Liam's Choice Artists quotes
Monday, November 9, 2009
Just a Painter Passing Through
My mom passed away in late September. I haven't been painting much lately. Everyone has to go through it at some point, I guess, but right now it's my turn. If your mom is still around, give her a hug.
This horse painting was completed recently, it is currently available for $2500.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Liam's Choice Artists: Serafino Catallo
This fellow is a young artist in my home town of Toronto. His work is serious, bold minimalist abstract in multimedia, I think he's awesome, and a total inspiration.
To check out more of his work, go to:
www.leonardogalleries.com/serafino
Friday, July 24, 2009
Liam's Choice Artists: Rachel Ovadia
I stumbled upon this artist's work, in Toronto. I think her work is amazing, and I had to post a blog about it.
Here are some links:
Rachel Ovadia at Gallery133 Toronto
http://www.gallery133.com/
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Latest Abstract Paintings
To find out more, or to purchase these paintings, go to Liam's eBay store: Liam Jones Fine Art: eBay
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Seeing Beauty in the Everyday
That, to me is the point of an experiment that took place in a Washington DC rush hour, when one of the worlds greatest violinists busked in front of a subway.
Here's the link to the article with the videos I'm talking about:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html?referrer=emailarticle
I've looked at the videos and read this article many times now, and I can't get over it. This is the best part for me, as taken directly from the article:
"...THE CULTURAL HERO OF THE DAY ARRIVED AT L'ENFANT PLAZA PRETTY LATE, in the unprepossessing figure of one John Picarello, a smallish man with a baldish head.
Picarello hit the top of the escalator just after Bell began his final piece, a reprise of "Chaconne." In the video, you see Picarello stop dead in his tracks, locate the source of the music, and then retreat to the other end of the arcade. He takes up a position past the shoeshine stand, across from that lottery line, and he will not budge for the next nine minutes.
Like all the passersby interviewed for this article, Picarello was stopped by a reporter after he left the building, and was asked for his phone number. Like everyone, he was told only that this was to be an article about commuting. When he was called later in the day, like everyone else, he was first asked if anything unusual had happened to him on his trip into work. Of the more than 40 people contacted, Picarello was the only one who immediately mentioned the violinist.
"There was a musician playing at the top of the escalator at L'Enfant Plaza."
Haven't you seen musicians there before?
"Not like this one."
What do you mean?
"This was a superb violinist. I've never heard anyone of that caliber. He was technically proficient, with very good phrasing. He had a good fiddle, too, with a big, lush sound. I walked a distance away, to hear him. I didn't want to be intrusive on his space."
Really?
"Really. It was that kind of experience. It was a treat, just a brilliant, incredible way to start the day."
Picarello knows classical music. He is a fan of Joshua Bell but didn't recognize him; he hadn't seen a recent photo, and besides, for most of the time Picarello was pretty far away. But he knew this was not a run-of-the-mill guy out there, performing. On the video, you can see Picarello look around him now and then, almost bewildered.
"Yeah, other people just were not getting it. It just wasn't registering. That was baffling to me.""
That guy was aware of what was going on around him, and let it affect him. Where I, most of the time in my day to day life, don't pay attention to what's going on, don't listen, don't look, I realize that I'm missing out. Maybe you are, too? What I know for certain is that I want to be like John Picarello.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Pearls Before Breakfast
Here's a fantastic story with some great video to boot. It's an article from the Washington Post, from a great journalist (in my opinion) named Gene Weingarten.
Here's the URL:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html?referrer=emailarticle
Or click this link:
Pearls Before Breakfast
Joshua Bell is one of the world's greatest violinists. His instrument of choice is a multimillion-dollar Stradivarius. If he played it for spare change, incognito, outside a bustling Metro stop in Washington, would anyone notice?
This shook me up. Most people who've seen it comment that it's a shame so many people didn't take notice. I have a different take: I became emotional (cried happy tears, actually) when I saw someone recognize that what they were hearing was something special. A child cranes her head repeatedly, A man stops, bewildered and walks around aimlessly, then drops some change in the case, embarrassed. That stuff just messes me up, in the best way. The reason? I think that I'm surrounded by beauty most of the time, I just don't see it. It doesn't have to be a brilliant piece of music bya brilliant musician, I've had similar experiences by noticing wind through trees in a forest. I was 12 or so, and I remember it well, as though it was yesterday. I think that beauty is God's fingerprint on the world; His signature that reads "You are fearfully and wonderfully made, made in My image, and this gift is for you." When I do notice, it's often like I've been living life in an old black and white T.V, and suddenly stepped out to Blue Ray. I connect to God on a very deep level. You know, it's like that saying: "Today is a gift, that's why it's called the present." Just my take. Wow, I wish I was this enlightened more often. :)
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
The Good Painting
Like a great speaker who speaks slowly, one topic at a time.
The painting has one beautiful moment, a focus that is simple and bold, that looks at first glance like something anybody can do, but one can tell the mark of a master, because everything around it compliments, doesn't compete, doesn't distract. It's like saying the perfect thing at the perfect time, in the perfect way, but that perfect thing is real and flawed, beautifully so. It's a single sentence by a small voice in the perfect acoustics of a vast, empty auditorium: a triviality, an indulgence, and maybe even futile. But somehow that moment is captivating. Captivating and valuable, like the kind of thing they make documentaries about. That humanism is an affirmation of being alive and experienced, of being human.
There is a blank canvas that will one day be that good painting.
The Creative Spark
Here's some golden nuggets I value:
The key to being a great artist is to know yourself. Oh, there it is. You bored yet? But it's true, and it's profound. If you don't know who you are, your work never really has an author! Why sign it? Who wants to buy some angst-ridden art from someone who doesn't know who they really are? Great artists are like great wine: We need time to mature. Of course, maybe I'm just speaking about myself? Hmn. Practically speaking, if you know yourself, it manifests as personal vision, as confidence, as a stronger mark, as a consistent body of work and not randomly creative.
Great art is like great writing or great music. It takes lots of practice and skill, but you don't always have to have something important to say, sometimes it's just the love of form, the act of painting or drawing that, with time and practice before it, produces something beautiful.
Great painting takes a great eye. Design and composition will destroy a painting that otherwise may have been drawn beautifully, or conversely can save a painting that has been drawn poorly.
Sometimes you don't know what your major masterpiece is going to be. Francis Bacon, for instance, started this one painting called "Painting 1946" for which he is quoted is saying:
"It came to me as an accident. I was attempting to make a bird alighting on a field. And it may have been bound up in some way with the three forms that had gone before, but suddenly the line that I had drawn suggested something totally different and out of this suggestion arose this picture. I had no intention to do this picture; I never thought of it in that way. It was like one continuous accident mounting on top of another."
Bacon's "Painting 1946" is generally regarded as his masterpiece. The guy just knew how to make a great painting, albeit in his own brilliantly twisted dark vision. He made it work, making it up as he went. That takes more than technical skill, that takes an accomplished sense of vision, the ability to improvise, and a great eye. The creative spark.
The creative spark is that energy that a creative artist has. It's the enegry that is restless, pushing the artist to shoot for something new and different, even if it's only new to the artist. Something challenging, maybe risky. Something of personal vision. The pursuit of a vision is found in the great moviemakers, who will taylor their amazing technical facility to make each scene work to the service of good storytelling.
Again, The creative spark is like a jazz musician who will sacrifice ego to create a performance that doesn't showboat individual ability, but makes the song work. Vision is the key. The big picture, where thought and idea are all, and technical abililty is only is a means to an end.
Artists with the creative spark are not technically minded, though they have technical ability in spades. They'll do whatever it takes to make the painting work. Sometimes that means plenty of time and effort while drawing on that technical facility, and sometimes that means throwing that technical facility to the wind. The important thing is that the painting "works".
That creative spark commands attention. It keeps people off guard, not knowing what to expect. There's a sense of excitement. The creative spark can take one to a place where technical skill is challenged. The improvization of a jazz musician like Miles Davis, for instance, may not always be a flawless performance, but it can reach brilliant hieghts unavailable to the trappings of technical proficiency alone, but wide open to the artist who knows who they are. An artist who can draw from personal vision and communicate that more essential humanism.
Robert Motherwell, that enigmatic and genius abstract painter, once said that even after a lifetime of painting, he could still do a bad painting. I love that. That's my kind of artist.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Latest Paintings
My latest installment in the "Voices In Harmony" multipanel series:
And my latest abstract painting, titled "Through It All"
Liam Jones Fine Art on eBay
Liam Jones Fine Art website
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Thoughts On Selling Out
I really hate small talk. Everyone has something unique and valuable, so why waste a potentially good talk on some random triviality. So through my socially trained head-nodding and "uh huhs", I started talking about painting. I said that I was concerned with selling out.
I commented that working a dayjob and being an artist as a hobbie are forms of selling out. I went on to say that "it seems like with great artists and musicians, there's two types: those who sell out and those who don't." To be honest, I hadn't really thought of it that way, it just came out. So this guy responded: "I'd say that there's actually about four different things that happen to professional musicians."
He went on to explain that some musicians, like one particular flute player he said was the best he'd ever heard-- took a dayjob but still practiced every day, and gigged on the weekends and that was not selling out. He was dedicated to his craft, just chose not to live off of it.
Then there were weekend warrior jazz musicians who treated it like hobbie. Then their were the people with a moderate level of expertize who practiced and played with various groups, and they were decent. Then then there are the musicians that are dedicated. That are hungry.
And that's when he said it:
"I've taken friends jazz club hopping and and they would see brilliant, seasoned jazz musicians. But they hadn't rehearsed. They'd just walk in the night of, on their experience, there for the $100 bucks, and the music wouldnt be tight. And then they'd see the young guys, not as skilled, but hungry. And these young hungry guys rehearsed all the time and that hunger and hard work came through in their music. These jazz fans said "I liked those younger guys more then the better, more seasoned musicians." Was it because the older guys had sold out? Well, no. They'd just stopped practicing and taking it seriously."
Man, it pays not to small talk.
So some thoughts on selling out: There are many ways to remain true to who you are, and produce great art, and there are many ways to prostitute oneself. There are those who get too caught up in the money, those who don't care about the money at all. There are those who have lost the love, and those who hold fast. Remaining true to your art means not losing focus, but being dedicated to making the best art you can.
So I'm not selling out. I'm hungry and dedicated, and hopefully that shows. Visit my website or eBay store to see what was and what's new and what's coming next, and see for yourself!
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Latest Painting: "Cathedral"
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Liam's Choice Artists: The Art of Marilyn Kirsch
She's not quite minimalist, but has been called a lyrical abstractionist, which is a little difficult to pin down, depending on which art critic you're listening to.
From my understanding, Kirsch's art is "lyrical" due to surrealist leanings, its spiritual, metaphysical and meaningful content, its exploration of the world, ideas and its mindstates.
She's been one of my favorite artists for some time. Visit her website at http://www.marilynkirsch.com/
Friday, May 8, 2009
Latest Paintings
Saturday, May 2, 2009
New Paintings
If you like these abstracts or hate these abstracts, let me know! Leave a comment.
There are more to come.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Liam's Choice Artists: Cecily Brown: Gifted, Rude Painter
Oil on Canvas, 254 x 279cm2000
Cecily Brown
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
New Paintings Available
Here is a new 12 panel abstract, it's called "Dante's Garden". A very modern multi panel abstract painting in reds, browns and golds, A "zen" decorative painting.
And this painting is my most recent horse painting. Equestrian art seems to really grab people. I think it's great excercise to sketch and paint horses, it keeps me sharp. The light, textured format meshes modern art with traditional subject matter. I call it "Horses Breaking Away".
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Art is something special. Like a parking lot.
They say that art is the defining characteristic of being human. I’d like to say that love is a defining characteristic of being human, but that would be wrong, since it’s obvious that animals love as well. Ever seen a mother with her young? It doesn’t matter what species they are, that bond is obvious. Unless they’re hamsters and they’re scared. But that’s a different story. Not a good story.
I would say love is a defining characteristic of being alive. It’s got something to do with whatever makes the world turn, the sun burn bright, and the stars connect to us so ineffably. But I'm not talking about love, I'm talking about art.
Art is something special. Something human. At least I think so. And great art begins with seeing. See what I'm saying? Seeing is believing. See here. (sorry, I can't help myself.) It's fundamental, like reading is fundamental to being a writer. But seeing can be the biggest challenge an artist undertakes. One of the greatest achievements an artist can aspire to is, in my opinion, the ability to see. Sounds deep, huh? Well maybe it is, but if you're irreverant like me, you might ask:
“What about a blind person? Can a blind person see? Can a blind person be an artist, too, Mr. thinking artist guy?”
Of course I say, you contentious rabblerouser, but you don’t need eyes to see beauty any more than you need ears to hear music. Really? Wow. Case in point: Beethoven. Stone deaf, writing some of the most inspired music of all time. Don't tell me that guy didn't hear music, he just heard it from within instead of from out.
Seeing is where the artist taps in to who they truly are, and what their place in the world is. Seeing is a unique way of seeing the world. Seeing is the intangible attribute of a great artist. It can be destroyed by convention, by imposed ideas, by insecurity, in short, by a loss of connection to one's sense of self. It flurishes with openness, acceptance and encouragement. Once it's attained, it can make one stubborn, individualistic, full of ideas, and turning out great artwork.
I was once on a hike in a local park with a friend. I remember it well: I was taking in the beauty of trees, of leaves, of the smell of nature, the running streams. Very beautiful stuff. But then we came to a parking lot. It was old, big and abandoned. There was a factory on the far side of it. My first reaction: I wanted to go back into the forest. But then my friend, in his punk-rock attitude, sat down in the middle of this old parking lot. I played along. I sat down with him and looked around. It was boring. It was hard. It was flat. It was an afront to the beauty of nature. He was really enjoying it. I mean this guy was weird. Anyone who knows him thinks he’s weird. But I also knew that he was a really gifted artist. I respected this guy. He didn’t say a thing. It was some kind of reverential moment, and it was real. There were no drugs involved. Okay, I’m lying, there were drugs involved. We were in art school, long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away. Get over it. My friend was asking in his silence: “we’ve been checking out nature for hours, and it was beautiful, but do you see what I’m seeing, here, now?”
I started looking around. I shut my brain off. As best I could, anyway. Okay, I admit, part of my brain is always shut off. Don’t bug me. But I was in the moment. (There's your pop-philosphy catch-phrase for the day). It was cool. I noticed the aged, cracked cement, the infinite variations of grey and black with the vibrant contrast of bright yellow lines. The earth beneath heaved the stiff concrete surface in areas, and sunk others. Through the cracks plants defiantly grew and nature was slowly, inevitably taking it back. Then there was the solitude of it… It was truly beautiful. And I'm a bona fide tree-hugger, so that's saying something. I’ll never forget that moment; that empty parking lot.
The point is that sometimes great art begins by looking around you with a different attitude. Maybe you could see it like a child: open to the idea that life is beautiful because you don’t know any better. Or like some wise old sage: you know so much about life and all it's trouble that you just choose to see the beauty anyway.
There’s a real peace to that. It doesn’t matter if you’re a child, a sage, blind, on drugs, an animal, or a scared mother hamster. Well, okay, maybe that’s stretching it. But art really is something special, isn’t it?
Friday, February 27, 2009
Here is my latest Christian painting
The subject of Jesus carrying the cross is something I'm exploring on an on-going basis. While I sharpen my technical skills, it's therapy, because He takes my troubles away with him. It's an act of devotion because it comes from the heart, not the intellect, though the intellect is engaged. I see him as a champion, not a victim. It's so much more than a guy carrying the instrument of His death. He embraced it. It was the culmination of His life's work and turned history on it's head.