The expected, perfected.

My last post talked about spontaneity and planning. Spontaneity can be fun and exciting, or disappointing and discouraging. Planning can be exciting also, but the fun of it can be mired down into drudgery and result in lifelessness. To achieve a combination of the two is my ideal.

How does my creative process lend itself to these opposing forces? 

"Never Mind the Execution"

Susan V. Polansky,  2001

The best answer is to look at an overview of all my work. I never repeat the same thing. In fact, before I ever started using fabric, a college professor wanted me to work in a series. I just couldn't do it. Every painting I did was a "and now for something completely different!" I don't like templates, patterns, variations or the like. I don't get enough out of a re-do. There are many artists that hit upon a successful look, and they repeat that ad infinitum. They can streamline their technique, market the method, become known for their look. 

painted sneakers by 

Susan Polansky

God's Eye trials

Susan V. Polansky, 2006

Modern businesses have perfected the expected. Producing known outcomes is a safe business model. It probably started with production of the Model T, but post-war housing developments and fast food establishments took off and ran with the idea. A proliferation of uniformity creeps everywhere, even into areas where creativity and unique-ness thrived. We've all seen advertised: "Action Figure,"  "A.F. Returns," "A.F. Again!" and so on in the movies. And last I looked, I was surprised by how many adult book titles claim "(some number) of the (trilogy, series, saga.) Not that I haven't indulged in consumption of mass marketing! It's just not what I want for my art. However, having a guaranteed outcome is a much more reliable source of income! I am incredibly fortunate to have a supportive family, which allows me the freedom to spend time in my studio.

Composition: My Reaction to School Violence

Susan V. Polansky, 1999

Over the years, I've experimented with many mediums. I'm curious as to how other artists work. I bring what I've learned forward into each new piece. I can draw from my bag o' tricks whatever technique might serve the piece best. That is how I get lost in the "process." I'm constantly having a dialogue with a work in progress, observing what is working and what needs to happen. I don't feel limited by sticking with any one way of doing something. And I'm not afraid of change. My spontaneity is not a quick burst, but rather a collection of intuitive choices of what "feels" right at the moment. 

Muscle Memory

Let me first think about some smaller parts to this puzzle.

thinking about how the monuments will look

Here are some pages from my sketchbook, ones that I'm not too embarrassed to show. Drawing is like any motor skill. The muscles remember what to do long after learning the  skills, but practice and exercise is still needed for fluency. I'm a bit rusty. I like Prismacolor drawing pencils. I have a set that ranges from 9B to H. Pencils with a soft lead are B (the higher the number, the softer the lead.) This kind of pencil will make a denser, darker mark, while an H pencil leaves a finer, lighter line.  H is good for invisible guide lines, or very sharp detail. B is good for broader stokes and filling in areas. To force myself to use less detail, I have just bought a 2B graphite crayon, but I haven't used that yet.

I have never been much of a sketch artist - one who can put some quick ideas down on paper. I usually jump right into a project and get involved with details way too early in the game. Then I find that the of effort I put into details in the beginning is often wasted, because the final composition requires something different than I originally had thought. 

after a sketch, I made notes about what I liked or what to change

I also have not done a lot of pre-planning by way of drawings for previous quilts. Either I design as I go along or work with photoshop to compose a picture. In this case, because I have some very definite ideas that I want to express and I know that it's a lot to visually communicate, I know I've got to sort out things before I start with the actual quilt. As a writer makes an outline before delving into their thesis, so I also need to outline my points and be clear to myself what it is I'm trying to achieve.

how should I pose the people?

 

Some artists focus on "process." They get absorbed in working with their materials, taking direction for how to proceed with their work by responding to the outcome of their manipulations. Sometimes it's a "I want to see what happens when I do this or that.." or "I was just playing with (some medium, some idea) and look what happened: let me follow that direction.." It's a wonderful transcendent feeling, to not "think," to be so wrapped up in what you're doing. It's as if a piece is talking to you, saying, "I need this" or "hey, try this over here." It's muscle memory again! The brain is a muscle - it's got to be trained first before it can just work on it's own. Art can be created in a spontaneous manner when there is a grounding of knowing how to respond. Design, composition, balance, focus, perspective and all the other factors in creating art are all being processed in the background. If one weren't considering these elements, then their art is randomness - which may or may not turn out appealing. 

So, what's the problem?

I had hoped that I could grab some images, collage them together, and - Voila! - it would look great. No such luck. The photocomposition confirms how complicated my idea is, yet at the same time, is "proof of concept." The idea has gone from loose ideas in my mind to something definite I can see on paper. It's a good starting point. The photo presents too many insignificant details that interfere with really "seeing" what is going on in the overall scheme.

My eye does not know where to look. There is no clear focal point, nothing that grabs your attention and draws you in. A good composition has a flow to it, guiding your eye around - but this has no order to it.

something recognizable helps to show 

where you are looking from 

As the photos were taken from different angles, the perspective is not consistant. In the photoshopped image from my Monday 2/11 post, I am looking from above at the two figures in the foreground, yet I seem to be looking at the eye level of the seated man behind them. In any picture, for realism to work, there can only be one eye level.

The entire background is not clear - what is the size of everything? Is it close or far away? The flags do not add any information, they are just adding to visual confusion. If they went from large flags in the foreground to small ones in the distance, it would help define the amount of distance I'm trying to describe. It is understood that each flag is the same size, so if some are very tiny, they must be far away.

I wanted to have groups of people in this quilt, but there is no room for them. Already there is too much going on.

I need to simplify and better define my thoughts.

The monster of my doubt

Am I happy with the photo compositions I posted on Monday?

 Yes and No.

Yes - I like my idea. Seeing images and colors together works as "proof of concept." It starts bringing my imaginations into reality. Yes, this can all work together.

No - I'm too caught up in the fun of photo manipulation. I'm seeing details when that is not what I should be looking for at this stage. I've got all the pieces I need for the puzzle, but how to arrange them?

The monster of my doubt is looming. 

This is too complicated.

Stretching the truth

With Photoshop Elements, all of my images can be put on layers that can be handled independently. I can remove backgrounds, re-size, change location, or manipulate their appearance in any number of ways. Usually, I start by removing everything from a photo that I know I don't want. Then I might separate the photo into separate parts. Below are two versions having different layers visible. 

In this version, I 've enlarged the background structure and brought it a little bit forward. I've put some bank safe doors into the structures to see how that looks, along with the row of safes. I'm pleased with how the forms of these structures relate to each other.

Now in this version, I added a transparent layer of the man. Maybe he is a ghost? Could I make that happen with fabric? Possibly, but I wouldn't want to use a technique that would call undo attention to one area. Have to keep this in mind. I put in a bigger safe behind the man, trying it out as a monument. I can eliminate this, just doesn't make any sense. 

I want to have everything look as if it belongs where it is. Believable realism relies on how humans typically perceive their world. We expect a certain consistency. For example, if you are looking at a scene from above, you can't put in an item that shows it being seen from below - it just wouldn't make sense. If a scene occurs during a dull cloudy day, it wouldn't make sense to have a gleaming highlight or intense shadow. If something doesn't look right, it will ruin the atmosphere. The truth can be stretched, but only so far. 

How about the people?

How do you remember people? I want people in my quilt going about different ways of remembering - photographs, stories, thinking. Maybe groups of people; people interacting.

This is a pose I think would work well. Two seated people looking at a photo album. Their faces are not important. One person holds an album in their lap while the other cranes their neck to see.

                                                           

I love this group, especially the woman with her head thrown back in laughter. The body posture will be important to convey a dynamic conversation going on.

Another group, casually seated together, celebrating during Dios de Los Muertos.  Their postures are relaxed, and again a figure has their head thrown back, with what I imagine to be laughter.

I've started to remove the background from  my husband's photo of a Oaxacan  father and his kids. I'd really like to use the pose of the man.  He seems to be quietly resigned to his thoughts.  The folded hands and slight slouch help to give that feeling.  Something about him - his  weight, his posture,  something - reminds me of my brother also, so that would be good to put in this quilt.

Now that I've selected a lot of reference images, 

how are they going to look together?

set decorating

I've found some interesting photos and I've been playing around with them to see if any ideas gel.
This photo shows the colorful flags that I think will be good for adding the bright, festive tone. They also would be very useful for perspective. I could have them draping from foreground to background, with an extreme size difference. That would help describe the space that the figures are in, how close or how far back they are.

The structure of the building is a bit too block-y - the dark ached doorway is intriguing - but the rest would read only as a solid mass. (Guess I should expect mass from church!)

How about the shapes below for structures? They're quite complicated. I do want to keep in mind
that I will be constructing this from fabric.

Looking back at the photo I posted the other day, I see a part that captures my eye. I like the simplicity of the structures in the background, and they remind me of the church structure above. The attached crosses I could take out: what if I replaced them with keys, maybe the old fashioned skeleton keys? I like the color palette that is in this area also - have to keep this in mind.

The cemetery
Hari Polansky, 2008


 

Googling around, I found some pictures of bank safes.  I have in my head that it's a visual I want to use, but just how will they fit in? They're symbolically interesting, but not too visually dynamic. They have to "read" as a safe and not just some clunky boxes, otherwise the symbolism won't work. Substituting a bank safe for cemetery vault is what I'm after. 

One of my favorite tools

My Wacom Tablet

As long as I'm finding images, maybe I'll photoshop a composition together. I use Photoshop Elements; it's more user friendly than the full Photoshop and has everything I need to do photo compositions and edits. I use a Wacom Drawing Tablet that I absolutely love! It has a pen type of tool that is way easier to control than clicking a mouse, although it does have a mouse too. I can easily change backgrounds or colors, merge parts of photos together, and do all kinds of fun stuff. It's easy to get lost in image manipulation and get sidetracked by what I started out to do!

Interesting visuals

Father and children, Oaxaca, Mexico

Hari Polansky, 2008

I need certain elements in the picture to portray my theme, and they have to be depicted accurately. If proportions are off or the perspective isn't consistent, it will affect the believability factor of the atmosphere I want to create. So I need reference images.

I've taken photos in Oaxaca, Mexico during their October Dios de La Muertes Festival. Amazing to be amongst the parades, decorations, and festivities meant to celebrate and honor deceased loved ones. The local cemeteries are crowded with friends and families who picnic, play music, or quietly reminisce, surrounded by flowers and bits of color. I want this feeling of joyous rememberance. I'll have to put in groups of people, and color; lots of color.

Mexican flags

Susan Polansky, 2008

Back to the idea of keeping things and memories, I've got ideas for this: keys and bank safes. Keys fit in so nicely with the theme. So important to us, and yet meaningless by themselves. And the bank safes - a personal image, but fitting with the theme also, if I can figure in a way to make them work. My dear brother, who passed away three years ago, had over a hundred safes (locked, without combinations)  in his horde of machinery and tools.  But more on that another day.

The cemetary

Hari Polansky, 2008

I do a lot of searching for pictures that interest me,  using Google Images and my own photos. And I start drawing...

I'm back and I'm ready

I'm ready to commit to an idea. That's a big step, knowing that I will be involved with this project for quite a long time. My last quilt was three years in the making! But that's not exactly fair, as I had little time or focus for creative work. During the dark period of losing eleven people through unrelated events, I was fortified by the hope that I would one day return to my art with more insight and resolve.

Barometer of Excuses
Susan V. Polansky,  2012

I was rewarded for my patience with the best piece that I have done. "No One but You" has been accepted into Quilt National 2013, a prestigious biennial show - sort of the Holy Grail for art quilters. The headline picture for this blog is an excerpt from that work, which I will put up on my new website.

Finishing a big piece always leaves me at loose ends.  It's a fragile period, being between projects. I battle doubts that I will never make anything worthwhile again or never come up with an interesting idea. The best cure is to focus on process, not end points. These things I make are souvenirs, it's the traveling to get where I'm going that is so fascinating. I look at the end product as a summation of how I got there, and see it as a roadmap to where I should head next. So while ideas were incubating, I completed some spontanious smaller works, and also had some fun with mixed media.

Does this mean anything?

Over the last several years I have had many occasions to ponder how and what we keep. Humans have a curious nature of collecting "stuff" and imbuing things with meaning. What becomes of all these precious possessions when the owner is no longer here? Do these things matter to any one else? Some objects are beautiful or interesting enough on their own, and there is little question to why one may have kept them. But how about the odd items? Was it a special keepsake, did it have significance? No one will know why I've kept a cracked blue marble necklace or the brick with white paint on it. Some things are just private, singular memory holders, they only work for the owner. Did my brother keep a broken lamp in a bank safe because it meant something to him? Mysterious unless someone holds the key to meaning. But sometimes a special thing becomes special to someone else, not for the same reason, but just because it was a special possession and reminds the next person of the original owner. Momentos and personal possessions can be so powerful, as if some energetic bond still existed.

I have experienced the passing away of so many people in the last few years, and gone through the awful passage of grief to remembrance. In the piece that I have started working on, I want to celebrate those lives. I've sorted, saved or discarded their physical possessions, and am left with questioning how to keep their memories alive. Do we lock things up to keep them safe or bring them out to share with others? My piece will be about life and death, celebration and reflection.
 
At least, that's what I thinking now.