The “tradition” of using non-traditional materials and found materials in art goes back awhile – from Braques and Picasso’s collages to Duchamp’s urinal. By now we are accustomed to seeing everyday things in the museums or galleries For me, the use of non traditional or found materials has to transform that material so that it becomes something else than the novelty of the material itself. A couple of artists came to mind when thinking about this today. I recently discovered and artist named Il Lee.
BL-069, 2006, Ballpoint pen on canvas, 48 x 42 inches
BL-070, 2006, Ballpoint pen on canvas, 45 x 60 inches
Someone living near NYC should go see them in person at Art Projects International http://artprojects.com/ for me and test out whether they are as beautiful as they appear to be on the web. I have seen a lot of ballpoint pen drawings, especially from my students. I have seen some great stuff, but Il Lee’s work takes ballpoint to a spiritual realm (dare I say).
Do you admire any artists who use nontraditional materials? Have you tried them yourself? How does it affect your artmaking process?
Wow, Leslie, these are really beautiful. Wish I could see them in person.
There are a number of artists I’ve admired who use non-traditional materials, including of course Jasper Johns and RObert Rauschenberg, as well as Jennifer Bartlett and L.A. artists Charles Arnoldi and Tim Hawkinson. What interests me about their work is not so much the materials themselves but what they do with them.
I’ve been working in linoleum since around 2001, and I’ve found the switch from painting to be very freeing. Actually, I tend to go back and forth, doing a series of linoleums, then a series of paintings, etc. What I love about working in an unfamiliar material is that is both imposes different constraints and offers different possibilities than the medium I’m most familiar with. It makes me think in new ways. And I bring those new ways of thinking back with me when I return to painting.
Like David, I think these are gorgeous. Very reminiscent of Japanese indigo-dyed cotton, which perhaps Lee knows of.
My favorite example of non-traditional materials at the moment is a local artist, Anna Visscher, who makes jewelry from various antique or other old items, from buttons to bits of glass or metal to whatever. Putting that material into a new setting does transform it, but at the same time preserves any real or imagined memories associated with it.
I tried trekking up there to see this but was stopped by the gateman outside this building telling me that the address is a private residence and I should get an appointment before coming here. The funny thing was that this fact was not mentioned on the Art Projects International website (maybe I missed that).
I do not use too much non-traditional methods – the only thing that I might say is non traditional in my oil painting is my use of MDF (medium density fiberboard) instead of canvas for my paintings (lately). Gessoed MDF has a much smoother finish than canvas and for some reason I find myself able to mash/mix the paints better on the surface of the painting. Of course completing multiple coats of gesso is back breaking and it takes some time to dry. The only hazard with MDF is that it contains urea-formaldehyde (may cause eye and lung irritation when cutting/sanding).
David,
I think they are beautiful as well. And I thought of your linoleum when I wrote this. I can see the dialogue between the materials and how they inform each other.It seems like it inspired a newer interest in flatness, or rather, the play between flat and deeper space. Whereas your oil paintings before were pretty much about illusionistic space, now you are in a realm somewhere in between. Does that ring true for you?
Steve,
Nice connection to dyed fabric. Lee is Korean born, grew up in San Jose, and lives in NYC now if I rememember correctly. I love the density of them (much like a piece of cloth soaked thorughly with ink), and if I look long enough I would swear they are pulsating.
Sunil,
Oh no! I led you astray, as it looks like his work is up in San Jose right now, not API. It is very confusing because he is on the “current exhibition” page. But I certainly would not have guessed they were an appointment only space by their website. Harumph! I had a nice e-mail exchange when I inquired about getting the catalog.
Is MDF the same as what used to be called masonite? It is a lovely smooth surface on which to paint. I favor canvas at the moment, but I can see how your chunky paint handling would sit on top of it and move much more smoothly.
Picture 2 does look like a play between flat and deeper space
…now you are in a realm somewhere in between. Does that ring true for you?
Leslie, it’s probably how most people I know would describe me :)
According to the website, the Il Lee show is currently up not at API’s New York spot but at the San Jose Museum at Art. Too bad, I’d like to check them out. An acquaintance of mine, Lynne Taetzsch, went to see them there recently. You can read her thoughts here.
Oh, I see he has an upcoming show at the Queens Museum. That I’ll go see.
Leslie:
Medium Density Fiberboard is a kissin’cousin to masonite, and a fine cousin it can be.
Here’s one. For some years now, I have been making paintings with Foamula, that pink stuff that comes in sheets and is used to insulate. A lot of the faux stone carving that one sees on building facades is a form of shaped Foamula covered in something called DryVit. I don’t carve, but I model the surface and then apply plaster, colors and varnish. If you are interested, you might visit my site by Googling The Mouth of Jay. There’s a section there about the foam.
Leslie,
Thank you for this look at this art. It is indeed beautiful.
I’d like to know if you have tried what you call “non-traditional” materials. You ask your students to (or you allow them to) but what about yourself?
And as for me — well, I stitch on backed and batted textile paintings and fabric piecings — some would call the end products quilts (and then, perhaps, sniff a little). It’s a funny little language problem — I’m either a quilter using traditional art techniques or an artist using traditional quilterly techniques. Actually, the latter is more accurate; the quilters have to stretch to allow me into their guild.
Leslie,
It is amusing to think of the ballpoint pen as non-traditional.
I have seen Lee’s work. They are nice. I remember being impressed by the important drama to every line, especially those that wandered beyond the mass.
Leslie:
I just erased an entire short essay about Il Lee’s drawings: it just didn’t feel right. It’s a tease because something lurks just out of reach in this person’s work. The pen describes orbital trajectories in an illustrative way as though we are looking at printouts of some unknown process. But the effect is not mechanistic as such, but rather seems to be tracing out some human element that can only be approached elliptically.
These buzzing hives of ink form together into patterns. You may feel differently, but I cannot recognize in these larger organizations the sense of something primal that exists in the separate units. It feels that the requirement to make a nice image prevails at this level.
Jay,
I am familiar with the foam you are working with. Fun stuff! I did a project in undergrad in which we had to try to duplicate something from nature as closely as possible. I did this impossible geod, one that you buy in the store that was polished super smooth and then had jewel like jagged parts inside. I started with a similar foam. it was a painful experince for me, not being 3D oriented at all. But I can see the appeal of the foam and using it as a surface.
As far as your essay, or what remained after it…I am not sure what you are saying here exactly. Are you frustrated that the artist keeps you at an arm’s length with this work, that he prefers to make something beautiful over something with any other meaning or connection for you? It is quite possible I missed your point…
June,
Yes, I have used non-traditional materials -as slippery of a term that is – I am simply referring to materials outside the verrry traditional “academy” – paint, photo, pencil, etc. I realize ballpoint pen is not revolutionary, but it has different connotations than say pencil.
A piece I made a few years ago in grad school was made with hospital scrubs with vintage alphabet flashcards stitched on them and images monotyped on top. 26 indiviually stretched units hung in a grid. hard to explain. Not revolutionary, but it opened up a whole new subject matter for me. And the piece itself is interesting. Maybe I will dig out images of this piece and post it later. As david wrote, working in a medium other than what I usually do gives me new restrictions, new freedoms, a new vocabulary of marks. I spent my first semester of grad school painting on children’s bed sheets. I stretched them on puffy bed like structures so they looked like mattresses hanging on the wall. It was hell, technically and conceptually. But it spurred me into new wonderful territory in which I am still working today. And it made me appreciate good ole oil on canvas that much more :) I am constantly impressed with how much the physical experience of art informs the intellectual part!
Leslie:
It was late when last I commented and that may have had an effect.
Here’s what I think I was getting at. For me the essential aspect of Il Lee’s work is the line, produced at a marginally big-muscle scale, by a small-muscle medium, the ball point pen. The drama is at that level and is certainly enhanced by the contrast between the isolated lines, in their open out-and-back movements, and the clotted effect of their coming together. Makes me think of ant hills. And what may Il Lee have been thinking as she/he ran through reams of pens? Did the artist imagine being an alternative form like an ant? Was there something of a meditative process here? The lines take on a consequence and a mystery if they are describing an interior state.
And then one steps back to find that something else is going on at a larger scale, and that something sometimes doesn’t seem to be in the same conversation. BL-069 would indicate an organic process perhaps, where a molecular interchange is going on and BL-070 posits a single attractive entity around which the lines congregate, and these register as right to me. But the gallery view shows pieces that appear more arbitrary in their organization as though the single entity and the interconnected centers motifs were not enough and some decorative impulse established itself. I begin to do my compulsive thing about the one on the left with its row effect and can imagine Da Vinci”s “Last Supper” and how so much is made of who is sitting where. Is that kind of thing inappropriate here? Chances are that Il Lee explains all of this in statements, but at this remove minds will wonder and wander.
Jay,
I think I see your point now. I guess I feel like Lee’s piece’s are so connected by the ballpoint pen that the hanging of the show could almost not go wrong, unless they were crammed together or soemthing. I see them as evidence of both an intensely physical experience – how many pens does he go through? – as well as a spiritual one. And I don’t toss that s word around lightly. It sounds like you are thinking along similar lines with the meditative quality they have. So no matter what product comes out in the end, for me they have such connection to each other just by virtue of seeming to come from such similar experiences, with only slight variance in state of mind perhaps.
I don’t mind the decorative approach to hanging them either. Because they are also on the most superficial level, beautiful in a decorative way.
Leslie:
They work very well on the wall. It just feels to me that such a meditative process should be connected to another set of formalisms. Just dawned on me: the internet. Perhaps you have seen diagrams that lay out the structure of the internet in a hub-and-spoke kind of way. Sort of like that first picture. I know I’m being obtuse again, but I don’t think that the overall shapes chosen in these pieces are in keeping with the basic activity.
Leslie/Jay:
I remember when my Dad took up TM back in the early 70s and paid some Guru some money for a mantra. When I, only a boy, asked why? he thought for a moment and said: I don’t know.
I think Jay has a very insightful point here: the gestures, though independently very nice, also feel somewhat insincere, determined by preconceived decorative patterns.
I also would like to say that it is nice to read a more probing critique; discussions here have felt… too kind and predictable: the Artworld disappoints but your work is swell. Even friends can offer more.
Jay,
I actually went to the gallery site, but found absolutely nothing substantive there that would help answer your question.
Perhaps we can think of the blobs as people or much simpler organisms. They’re defined by a huge number of probings/interactions with their environment, represented by the pen gestures. For one alone, the lines return to the self (2nd picture), but when there’s a group they mostly reach out (1st picture). They don’t seem to actually contact though, but are prickly as if protecting personal space. Perhaps the different pictures explore different types of groupings, such as community, individual, family/clan, two clans (bottom picture, L to R).
Pure speculation, of course, but I found it somewhat amusing and it’s consistent with what I have seen so far.
D,
Just saw your comment, I think you’re right that discussions could use more “edge.”
D.
Point taken. I would suggest that there are at least two kinds of posters here: those that do it and those who talk about it. I would suggest as well that those who do can be “pointed” as they have cred. Those who talk might need to post some of their own work and join the stick-one’s-neck-out crowd.
I’m kind of new here and perhaps haven’t come across your things.
Pointed enough?
Jay and D.,
Interesting points – I get where you are coming from now. Although I realy disagree with you D. that having preconceived patterns makes the work insincere. If you have ever done walking meditation it can take on a very distinct pattern. Now some of Lee’s patterns work better than others in my mind, but I think being aware of the end result during a process does not make it insincere. Either that, or I am a complete hoax :) Hope not…
All kidding aside, I think there are days when you can lose yourself in process better than others. Perhaps the ones you respond to more favorably are the ones in which he got “lost,” and was not as self conscious. Art doesn’t lie, right?
And I think we all jumped to the idea of meditation or spirituality without knowing if that is even his intent. I can’t remember if I read his artist statement or if there was one. I will check, but what if his intent is to make pretty decorations?
Steve,
I think the interconnectedness is part of what this work is about – webs, nets, amoebas. I didn’t go to human relationships, but I can see how you could.
Jay,
Huh?
Leslie,
Yes I overstated.
Another try: I especially like BL-070. The loopy lines that radiate beyond the bound surface feel determined (gravitational?) by the object-mass. In a way, it created itself; the artist has sort of disappeared.
The others feel less like that.
Leslie:
Saw a sculpture the other year made up entirely of coffee filters: at least 100,000 clean white coffee filters all nested in a nice wandering snake. It didn’t carry much import outside of the fact that it was made up of 100,000 coffee filters. But that fact alone made me salute. Anyone willing to spend the time and money to do that was not making decorative art. I see Il Lee in that recollection.
D.
A little exercise in pointillism.
D.
I agree
Jay,
I need more than someone willing to buy thousands of coffee filters (was it Tara Donavan?) to salute them. That’s why I like Il Lee’s work. It goes beyond the materials with which its made.
Leslie:
Can’t remember. Tara’s stuff seems more compact and, while I see that she has exhibited in Cleveland, it wasn’t at the location mentioned.
One hundred thousand filters, five hundred dollars- assembling them into a nice snake, priceless.
And, yes, the snake was a bunch of coffee filters and I doubt that the artist had more to say about that. It may be me who is getting all fetish over this ballpoint thing, but since it is emphasized overall, I am obliged to factor it into my thinking. Il Lee’s things may work just as well with a Rapidograph for all I know. Gallery people will often emphasize an aspect for the sake of sales.
We could go on about this for a long time as the matter of ball point vs, Rapidograph, #2 pencil or quill pen can bear on the issue. My use of one utensil vs, another can lead to different results, largely because of feedback to my fingers.
Jay.
Credibililty comes from the Trenches? A resume?
Sounds like a Club.
D.
Commitment might work as a term.
I anticipated a critique-based site upon hearing about A&P. What I found was and is an ongoing conversation, mostly among artists, about the process, the activity, of making art. People look at each other, bring up what’s on their minds, talk about shows, reveal their issues, and in general open themselves to each other in a spirit that is more or less positive. I don’t see A&P as a soft place to fall particularly, but at least the dialog is polite.
I think too that we are all aware of the descriptive limitations of this medium. Sunil’s paintings came across one way to me at first, but very differently later when We saw them against a wall with his son standing in front of them. Their size caused me to re-evaluate. The fact that my screen may be registering a false color balance or otherwise distorting an image tends to make me leery about critiquing.
I hope I’m not sowing confusion…
D.
It seems you’ve issued a challenge — and a fair one. I think Jay has perhaps sorted out the kinds of things we do or could do here on A and P, and I think that occasionally we might critique rather than converse.
And so, I will weigh in about the art in question. First, D., I assume when you say “preconceived decorative patterns” I assume you mean “preconceived (_merely_) decorative patterns.” That is, that the decorative nature of the patterning isn’t in the service of some greater good? Am I reading you rightly? I sense something of the same thing with Jay’s remark, although I may be misreading. More about this in a minute.
Steve mentioned indigo-dyed fabric, and there are some similarities that one could find between indigo and the drawings, including the crocking that indigo will do — the color can sometimes rub off onto your skin for the life of the cloth. But the dyeing process results in soft, liquid lines, even when its combined with shibori and these lines are, well, lines.
I’m interested, like Leslie, in the unconventional tool and the way it interfaces with the obsessive patterning. When I think about doing this kind of work with, say, a pencil or a fine ink pen or a brush, it creates a very different impact on me. So I don’t think Jay is right that a rapidograph would bring the same impact.
This may be a personal reaction — ball point pens, I think, can be beastly, and perhaps because they are cheap, they aren’t reliable instruments. At odd times because of the pull of the moon or the heat of the day, they will blob unmercifully. They smear and, depending upon the ink, they never seem to dry, so you are in danger of smearing the ink months later. The ink gets all over the side of your hand and then you rub your face and it appears, indelible, on your nose.
In other words, my reaction to ball point pen is at least as visceral as my reaction to juicy paint.
Is this relevant? Well, almost certainly so in this case. Even if Il Lee has found more reliable pens than my bics, he must be depending upon us to have a reaction to it from our own experience — it is the Duchampian insistence upon the relevance of the ordinary and in order to read the art, in some ways one must recognize the ordinary tool.
I think you have to take into account all the elements: the humble tool, the potential for the maddening failure of that tool, the obsessive shaping and pattern making that result in these large forms that flick toward one another but don’t seem to intertwine, the appearance they have from a distance as still forms but as they turn into ant hills close up — all these elements come together to form a satisfying complex of imagery and viscerality (if there is such a word).
I have trouble with the use of the word “decorative” because as Leslie and I would use it, it could be a term of approbation; as D. and Jay use it, it can be damning. “Beautiful” might be less fraught, but not much. And yet the result of the obsessive line drawing is beautiful.
I am reminded of chanting or certain kinds of singing, which, if you engage in them beyond what you feel is good or necessary or even possible, you reach through to another level. I can’t put my finger on what that level is — “understanding,” I would say, but understanding what I’m not sure. And then, I pull back and say, “with a ball point pen???” Go on….
So it’s the flawed instrument insisting upon being taken beyond any place we would imagine it would go, with a facility and grace in its use, making mysterious patterns that we can connect with. Pretty amazing stuff.
I like the work of Tom Friedman, or at least some of it. He is known for using highly unusual materials—for example a tiny self-portrait carved out of asprin. Often the work is constructed out of commonplace, modular units: pencils, styrofoam balls, toothpicks, and so on. Sometimes the work is abstract, others times he mimics the human form. The work is gimmicky, and you have to have a certain tolerance for that. Tara Donovan’s work is more minimal, but comes from a similar place.
June,
I waver, a bit like reading Gertrude Stein, an unfinished genius.
June:
This has to be the longest comment string EVER!(mimicking my grand daughter’s likely intonation)
The Rapidograph comment was me getting off the ball point bandwagon.
But I betcha Il Lee has a day job as a supply clerk in a company that buys really good ball point pens. That’s it. I’m done.
As Karl said about my comments some time ago….
It’s a flawed instrument, my mind. As well as my editing capacity.
Hey, I liked June’s long comment. It sertainly added to my sense of this work. I’d really like to hear more about it from Il Lee’s perspective, too, if anybody knows any sources. Apparently there’s a YouTube video of him drawing, haven’t tried it from my current slow connection.
Hey Steve, I took Jay’s comment as a compliment [insert snort]
Thanks for the You-Tube reference. It’s cool — well worth checking out.
Fascinating change of depth in the transitions between dense and wispy areas in the close-ups on YouTube!
June,
BTW: Have you considered the relationship between GStein’s work and Cubism?
Jay,
Believe it or not this is not the longest comment stream by far. Isn’t blogging for those of us who are verbose and beat topics to death until we have exhausted every avenue or just too exhausted to continue? I like the meandering that happens.
June,
I think the word decorative is full of connotations and politics, as many feminist artists have pointed out. I personally think its is AOK to “fall” (not that it needs to be a descent persay) into “mere” decoration, adn I would posit that soem artists who would shudder (or roll over in their graves) at the “d word” being attached to their work, in fact, make verrrry decorative work (how’s that for a run-on sentence). Matthew Ritchie comes to mind. A good topic for another post.
D.(and Jay),
I think you raise good questions about credibility on A and P. As far as I know, anyone can comment without identifying themselves or presenting who they are in any complete way. So each reader can evaluate for him or herself whether comments are worthwhile aside from the fact of who you are exactly, whether or not you are an artist, critic, housewife, show regularly, or make stuff in your garage for no one to see. That is the joy and the frustration of blogging and the internet in general, right? Those of us who make work and show it here also select what we choose to show, do not necessarily air all our dirty lanudry, mistakes, less than exciting work, etc etc. Should we? Sometimes that feels about as safe as walking into a bar and changing into my pajamas in front of total strangers. Ok, that’s an odd analogy, but maybe you get my point.
What is my point? I come and go from this blog as I see fit and as time allows. One of its strengths is that it is a completely voluntary activity. One of the interesting parts of the experience is that I really don’t know these folks who are writing. I am getting to know them somewhat by reading their comments and seeing some of their work. But it is odd that I wouldn’t recognize any of them if they came to my front door! Odd and strangely compelling…
Leslie:
At least once a year I dream that I change my pajamas in a bar.
My son Matt created and runs Sane Cavs Talk. com, a fan site about the Cavaliers. As the name would indicate, SCT invites thoughtful discussion without flaming and whatever else passes for communication on the web. This serves as something of a framework for my attitudes toward A&P.
Take your example about airing problem issues and work with the goal of eliciting comment. Most, if not all, of the people commenting here will take you seriously. But there are people, who, for the fun of it, are dying to call you five varieties of garden utensil and in-effect, dropping trou in your general direction. Think of the drunken patrons in that bar of yours.
That kind of stuff will happen. Matt kicks it off the site. Lord knows, at times I’ve gotten as high as I can on that horse I rode in on and appreciate your forbearance, one and all. Given, however, that we want things to be yeasty, let it at least raise the level of the loaf. If visitors sense that some norms of conduct apply here, then they may behave appropriately.
Leslie says it so well, I’m humbled as usual.
Except for the obvious spam, which I delete, I honestly can’t recall a real comment I would have considered removing (true, my memory isn’t the greatest). Even some that I might have considered out of line have advanced the discussion in some way. I’m really quite amazed. Maybe this is a good occasion say thanks to all posters and commenters. Thank you!
Jay,
Sorry about those pajama dreams :)
I like bread. I think you are talking about being basically decent to eachother, which we are. When someone gets a bit unruly, there are usually ten others willing to bite back and hold someone accountable for their comments. That said I think we need to allow for disagreement and conflict -without personal attacks, of course. I think it can get a bit dicey when one mistakenly equates blogging with life. It generates its own little world that can get all consuming!
Steve,
Shucks. Flattery gets you everywhere :) thanks to you for being such a great blog guru
Leslie:
Actually, I look forward to my yearly dream.
Good. That’s all I really had to say.
Looked at your site last night and was taken by the four panel of the mouth taking pills. Question: aside from the subject matter, does your experience as a past or present social worker affect the choices in your painting? I’m getting at this: I worked in fund raising and public relations for a number of agencies, including a stint as operations director for one of them. And I ran a small program. To me, the problems and issues that a social worker encounters on a daily basis are rarely, if ever, in the abstract. The dealings are face-to-face and often in-your-face. It appears to me that the focal point of many of your paintings is that same kind of social distance – somewhere around an arm’s reach.
Jay,
Tough question. I am working on a completely different series at the moment (my website is really out of date), so my head is elsewhere. I have too many thoughts about it to answer succintly, but here are a couple of thoughts:
Not being trained formally as a social worker, I had to learn that clinical distance concept on the job – I was “thrown to the wolves” and sometimes got chewed up pretty badly. I learned the value of keeping that professional distance eventually,and I think that shows up in my work. It has been pointed out to me before. What does not come through is my rather intimate relationship with pills, based on my family experiences with my mom’s illness. Psychotropic medications were literally the difference between chaos and sanity in my house.
The Unholy Ghost series is/was my attempt to get closer, more intimate with the subject matter of mental illness and childhood. The notion of hiding under these sheets and looking through them is very loaded for me, and I hope some of the experience rings true for others. It is a tough issue to get really close to, to get to heart of, but I’ll keep trying!
Hope that makes some sense. thansk for looking at my work – I always appreciate feedback!
Leslie:
Thanks for the insights.
Puts me in mind of the topic that Steve just brought up concerning the social and ethical impact of an artist’s work. Seen in the wrong context by the wrong person, your mouth-taking-pills painting could be construed as advocating some form of substance abuse. It could be that, or simply a description of a common everyday activity. It is actually something much deeper and more from within if I understand you. Now it is imperative to go back and look at your work with a fresh eye.
The screen that separates is a theme found in oriental art and I certainly am not alone in having burrowed into my bedding and finding a special space, one that is intensely personal. Your paintings that see through the fabric bring that up for me quite clearly. I especially respond to the interposition of the printed characters in the sense that they often serve as intermediaries between the child – and I assume that these paintings take the child’s position – and a big world out there.
I love these. I only like art that makes me catch my breath and makes my heart race. These work for me. I an brand new to the art world and I love to experiment with textures and colors.