It's All About the Paint, Isn't It?

Physical Geography, the show that Lynette and I have up at ArtSpace Maynard is nearly over. It runs next Wednesday through Friday and then we take it down on Saturday, 2/28. Both of us are pretty damned sick of the whole thing. We have had to be there the last 5 Saturdays in a row and next week will make 6 (although I bailed one Saturday and Lynette gallery sat by herself.) It is feeling more like work than pleasure because it's taking time away from being in the studio.

So now I'm thinking about the whole process of making art and all it entails: photographing, cataloging, proposing exhibits, hanging it, exhibiting it, marketing it, wrapping it, shipping it, etc. and how much it becomes about the physicality of the product, like moving iron instead of joyously expressing some component of your inner being. (A little sarcasm there, but you get the point.)

Our pal Sue Katz, fellow New England Wax member, came to our talk on Saturday and asked Lynette about the meaning of her work and/or her inspiration. Sue loves to talk about this subject and we have had many conversations about it. (She is also giving a participatory talk about it at the encaustic conference in June.)

Lynette Haggard: "Circa 013", 2008, encaustic on panel

Lynette was a little nonplussed because she had already spoken about some of the work in the show being inspired by trips to Europe and Cuba where she saw ancient (or at least old) walls that had been scarred by time and use into a patina of old paint, wallpaper, dirt and marks representing layers of human life. Beyond that, she wasn't ready to dig too deeply into her motivation or meaning since she thought her work was more about the process of making the thing itself than expressing some inner belief or need.


Nancy Natale: "Red Pearl", 2008, encaustic and mixed media on panel (alias the Nipple Piece)

Someone once asked me what a particular piece was about and I said, "Paint." When I make a painting, it is what it is, not what it represents. I am all about process and object making. However, as the process of making a piece evolves, it may suggest things to me; perhaps it reminds me of an old wall or a textile or an undersea world, but that's not what it's about - I am not trying to create that thing.Usually when you have to confront this subject of meaning in your work, it's because you have to write that dreaded (or dreadful) artist's statement. Some of that stuff is such high-falutin' blather that you could never understand any of it, and the less said, the more words it takes to say it in. Yet people (especially curators) love to read this stuff (which is a little silly because if they really get into your work and study it, they make up their own meaning anyway).

These days, when I write a statement, I usually say my work is about gardening: the structure in the painting representing the man-made elements in a garden (hardscape) with the paint and/or plant inclusions representing the organic components (planting). But often it is described as "quilt-like," which I guess it is, although this is not on my mind when I make it and doesn't occur to me afterwards. (A recent art writer said it was "a Willy Wonka take on Mondrian.")

So these are the two meanings I'm thinking about today: the meaning of making art (as in, what's it all about, Alfie?) and the meaning of art being made (as in, what the hell's that thing?).

A Demo Turns Up New Non-Family

On Saturday Lynette and I did an encaustic demonstration for Physical Geography at ArtSpace. We had a really great turnout of about 40 people who asked plenty of questions about the process and paid close attention to our presentation.

Show and Tell table with sample in-process panels, samples of raw wax and resin, handouts, etc.

We had a fun time with our tag team approach. First one of us showed something and then the other stepped in. If one of us forgot something, the other filled in the blanks. It worked very well and was much better than demonstrating alone - a lot more fun and less nervious-making.



Lynette at the Show and Tell table talking about supports.



Here I demonstrated fusing with a heat gun while Lynette prepared to show how to fuse with a propane torch.


Another shot of the tag team approach - Lynette overpaints with red while I think I'm rubbing off excess oilstick.



View from the back of the room.


We also spoke about the work that was hanging in the show and explained how various effects were achieved. I revealed the identify of many of the materials incorporated in my paintings and made everyone sign secrecy agreements before they left.

Here I'm showing that it's important to use only one hand for fusing so that the other will be free to gesture.

Probably the most important information we conveyed in this demo was that ENCAUSTIC IS NOT TOXIC when wax is kept at the proper temperature. So many people have misconceptions about this. We talked quite a bit about temperature, composition of encaustic paint, non-inclusion of solvents, etc. to counter people's previous ideas and showed them the R&F Paints handout about setting up your studio for proper ventilation.

An interesting thing that happened after the demo was that four people came up to me whose name was "Natale." (They pronounced it "Natalie" like the woman's name, whereas I say Natale with a silent "e" the French way, as in femme fatale.) They came to the demo because they had seen my name in the paper and wondered if I was a relative. They had a now-deceased sister named Nancy Natale who was also an artist, and while they sat through the demo, they were looking for resemblances between me and their family. They did see several physical points of comparison, but I had to tell them that it was just coincidence because "Natale" is actually an acronyn name that I composed and adopted about 20 years ago. It comes from the initials of my birth name, the last names of two ex-husbands and a final "e" for "end." They were very gracious about it and didn't seem too disappointed, but neither did I get the invite to the family Sunday dinner.

Shameless Self Promotion

Saturday was the opening of Physical Geography, and Lynette and I had a great time welcoming friends, relatives and interested people who had seen the article about our show in the Boston Globe. People seem to be fascinated by encaustic and have so much misinformation about it. Exhibiting encaustic works really feels like an educational project - informing people that it is NOT toxic, NOT batik, NOT about to melt off your wall, NOT that difficult to use, NOT made from crayons, etc., etc.

A Soapbox Digression: The other thing is that it's frequently necessary to lead people away from the craft or technical aspect of encaustic toward the fine art direction. As pointed out by guru Joanne Mattera, I am not an "encaustic artist" but an artist who paints with encaustic - a big difference in focus. Encaustic is the medium chosen to make a painting, and learning the technical aspects of the medium just makes me able to achieve my visual ideas. This concept sometimes gets lost in the discussion of the work, and I have to keep steering in the fine art direction - even steering myself. Why is this important? Because the visual ideas and expressions transcend the medium. The medium is not the message, it is the vehicle. Otherwise we become ghettoized or limited by the medium as in "woman artist."

Back to the opening...When we arrived for the opening, we were very pleased to see the wonderful job that Jero Nessen, Director of the ArtSpace gallery (and developer of the whole ArtSpace building) had done in arranging and adjusting the track lights. Many of the 80 artists in the building dropped by the opening and introduced themselves. Talking about art with other artists is always enjoyable, and it was particularly fun to talk encaustic with New England Wax members who came to the opening. Thanks to everyone for being so enthusiastic about the work! (NOTE TO BOSTON-AREA ARTISTS: ArtSpace has an annual call for proposals for solo and group shows.)

Center of back wall (this wall is 40 feet long) showing my work to left and Lynette's to right.

Looking right - these are Lynette's works. From left: "Harmonium" 10"x22" (an outstanding piece - too bad I cut it off), "Matter of Two" 29"x27", "When It Touches" 16"x48" and "Ruminant" 36"x36".

And continuing around to the right. The two works on the right of this picture are mine - picture taken last week before the lights were arranged. They are "Clark" 24"x66" and "The Maze" 16"x32".

This is starting again on the back wall but moving left this time - four pieces of my quiet, contemplative work - "Happy Family" 24"x24", "Wrigley's Best" 24"x24", "Clark" 24"x66" and "Foreign Influence" 24"x24".

Continuing to the left - Lynette's work: "Reveal" 30"x20" (on the card), "Slight Blueness", "Small Paladin, "Woven", "Dark Paladin" - the 4 small ones, "Paladin I" and "Paladin II" both 16"x16" and turning the corner with "Salt-Rose."

A close-up of Lynette's beautiful "Salt-Rose," 2008, 36"x36" - such a fantastic, weathered-looking surface to this piece but hard to see in the photo.

This is taken from the other end of the left wall and shows my blue diptychs on the left - each panel 16"x16". (Love those black heating/cooling panels!)

Here we are way on the other side of the gallery showing the left side of the entry. These three are my pieces - "The Portal" 16"x32", "Abound" (on the card) 36"x24" and "Red Pearl" 24"x24".


The entry wall on the right - kinda dark - from left: my piece "Falling Water" 16"x32", then Lynette's "Only a Few" 20"x16" and "Dot Burst" 20"x16". and finally my "Forever Blowing Bubbles" and "Tongue Tied" both 12"x24".

These are the same pieces from the other direction - "Falling Water" on left.

And if that wasn't enough, we also had a 16-foot long display case that we filled with encaustic "stuff" - wax balls, an electric grille with pots and brushes, encaustic paint, etc. - I like the reflection of the paintings on the glass.

So, a good time was had by all. Tune in in a couple of weeks for the encaustic demo we're doing.

Early Returns

The good news is that the show is all hung, after working on the installation for two days, and it looks really terrific. Our work is very complementary because Lynette's is quite abstract and airy with worked, weathered-looking surfaces; mine is dense, more geometric, mostly solid-appearing colors with raised surfaces.

We decided that rather than splitting our work up by walls, we would hang groups of works together so that we each had work hanging all around the gallery. I think it was a good decision because the contrast works to the benefit of each of us and there is no question as to which work belongs to which artist - our two styles are very distinctive.

The bad news is that the photos I took are disappointing because the lights aren't adjusted in place yet so the work isn't really lit properly and there are glaring hot spots. The gallery director will put the lights in place tomorrow. So these are the early returns and I'll take more pix on Saturday before the opening reception. Or - you'll just have to come to the show.

How installation felt.

Part of the 40-foot long back wall showing our sign, our first attempt at putting up one of these vinyl letter signs. We actually managed to have my work on the left and Lynette's on the right as the sign indicates - with absolutely no forethought. Just shows where intuition will take you.

There are 39 pieces in the show and there is a 16-foot, glass-fronted case where we installed a display about encaustic - containing tools, paint cakes, an electric grill with paint pots and brushes, a Joanne Mattera bible, and samples of a lot of other stuff that I use in my paintings such as plant parts, crocheted cord, beads, etc. We also posted an information sheet about encaustic that I had written up as an attachment to our press release.

So all in all, I think we did a good job of presenting ourselves and the medium of encaustic. We'll be giving a demo (2/14 - noon to 2 pm) and a talk with closing reception (2/21 - 1 to 3 pm). The gallery is open Wednesday through Saturday from 11 to 3 pm, and the show runs from January 28th through February 27th. The opening reception is next Saturday, 1/31, from noon to 3 pm. If I were a southerner, I'd say "Y'all come to the reception!" But being from the Berry in Boston, I'll just say, "Getcha ass ta thuh openin'. Theah's plenty a pahkin'."

Getting Loaded

It's been a long day and this is how it started...

Three trips from the studio to the car with loaded shopping cart. Hey, that's no bag lady - that's my wife!

Soon the World's Greatest Packer had the car all loaded.

And - Voila! - it was done.


xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Then all I had to do was drive an hour and a half to ArtSpace in Maynard and unload the car - with Lynette's kind assistance.

And before I knew it, all the fun lay ahead of me...

Behind the Scenes - Doing the Show Housework

Lynette and I are getting ready to install our show, Physical Geography, tomorrow. We each are bringing between 17 and 25 paintings. That's a lot of work and probably too much to hang, but we'll put things out and decide what to include and what not. We're trying for an airy look with plenty of space between paintings. The gallery walls have a total of 135 feet - big gallery.

We have both been killing ourselves to get the work made and then we had to do the finishing - scraping the edges of the panels, taking off tape, painting the edges or not, installing D-rings and wire and bumpers. (I have the worst, cheap foam bumpers in the world and peeling the paper off them is excruciatingly tedious. Why don't I get something better?) Then comes the packing, which I've been working on for two days.

Packing encaustic paintings takes more care than any other medium because the edges are so fragile that if you knock them into something, you could break off a chunk of wax. My paintings are even more complicated because of all the embedded materials; I have to protect the surface so that nothing gets jarred or bumped. In addition, you can't put bubblewrap directly on the wax (well, you can but it might stick) so you first have to wrap the paintings in glassine or heavy wax paper and then in bubblewrap. If the surface needs extra protection because of ultra high dimensional elements, I have to build boxes from foamcore or insulating foam sheets so that they won't be crushed. All this takes a lot of time and making those boxes is not only time consuming but technically challenging. Luckily taping on extra pieces of foamcore because I cut something too short does work.

This is stuff you never think of when you walk into a gallery and look at the work hanging on the walls. How the artist (or an assistant) had to put in so much time and effort to get the work to the gallery in good shape. Then somebody had to hang the work, after spending who knows how long figuring out the order in which the paintings should be displayed.

It's the housework of a show, that stuff that gets done when nobody's looking, like cleaning the toilet.

So now, outside of packing the car to drive to Maynard, (a feat which my dear partner-wife, the World's Greatest Packer, will be doing for me) and then driving nearly two hours to get there, the fun of it all is nearly here. Figuring out how a show will all go together taxes creativity but is very satisfying once it gels, like reaching the solution to a difficult problem.

Breaking Into the News

Just imagine - Physical Geography: Explorations in Rich Surface, the upcoming show that friend and fellow encaustic painter Lynette Haggard and I are opening next week, received a wonderful write-up in the Boston Globe Metro West edition! Arts writer Denise Taylor contacted us after receiving our card and press release from ArtSpace Maynard's director. It seems that Denise was familiar with Lynette's work and remembered my name from about 15 years ago when I was very involved with Somerville Community Access Television (I was producer of the year for 1994). Wow!

Denise wrote a wonderful article with a description of the encaustic painting process and she also described Lynette's work and my work. Here's what she said about mine:

"Natale's quilt-like abstracts piece together patterned rectangles of varying sizes outlined by thick, licorice-black whips of wax. Bright, cheerful, and chewy-looking, the more vibrant among them look like a Willy Wonka take on Mondrian. Others, using subdued mossy greens and murky blues, are quieter meditations. With curving strings, buttons, and plants encased in the wax, they seem to strive to order nature's unpredictable forms into neat sectioned panels that can't quite manage to hold them."

I like that "Willy Wonka take on Mondrian." I think that she's talking particularly about this piece, Happy Family, since that's the image I sent her.

Denise is very perceptive to note that I do think of my work as a garden, where the geometric borders struggle to keep the wild, organic components in line. And isn't that a metaphor for all of life? - that continual struggle for control that we are bound to lose just by the nature of things.