The Rebellious Curator

November is always labelled a dark and dreary month, but in many ways, I like it because of that. Long dark mornings, and early evenings make for cozy inside time. I especially like the light coming from a window. It's warm and inviting, like the visible heart of a home. 

I experimented with this painting on a small wood panel and liked the way the oil paint soaked into the grain to create interesting effects on the evening sky and grass. 

Why do my painted 2D structures always look like dollhouses?

Made a few of these mountain triptychs in oil. These have been fun as they quick and easy and I can try out different colours to see how they might translate on to larger substrates. 

Misty(above)in the garden of her Rosedale home in Toronto. Misty is well-known in Canada as a painter and a performance artist. One of her recent paintings, Interring the Terrier, appears to show a small headless dog being stuffed inside a red armchair by two frogs and a sardine. The piece sold at auction for $21,000 Ca. 

A Little Lavish Leaping(above), acrylic on card and wall, preserved in situ, Toronto, Canada

Image left, working with very quick strokes, Misty lays down the pink tension areas first. 

Image middle, the dense black verticals are over layed to suggest a series of interconnected forms describing the path of the leap itself.

Image right - Misty insisted that the stool be placed in position so that she could complete the upper curved form to her satisfaction. Many of Misty's works go "off canvas", and some go completely off the wall and onto the floor. 

In part from: Why Cats Paint - A Theory of Feline Aesthetics 

Tiger in his garden at Konigstein, near Frankfurt 

Here, Tiger has just completed "Breakfast", acrylic on card and wall

Tiger's complex compositions consist of a variation of strokes and multiplicity of colours which is unique among other German Reductionists and Neo-Reductionist Cats. Tiger's work suggests juvenile play activity by "reducing" or destroying the work to reveal large areas of negative space. This has a serious purpose: The reduction of the completed work becomes the essence of its outer form, which is not the reproduction of reality, but rather, reality discovered through its reduction.

To see more of Tiger's process and completed works, please refer to: Why Cats Paint - A Theory of Feline Aesthetics by Heather Busch and Burton Silver, 1993

Despite the fact that Smokey uses Catnip or Catmint (Nepeta cataria) before painting, her work does not reflect a psychedelic element. She seems to use it more as a way of intensifying the harmonic resonance experience which acts as a stimulant to feline creativity. 

The a/c painting above titled Serious Ramifications, depicts the study of a ram. Its bold regularity and symmetry describe the undulate movement of powerful limbs trauncing through a field of dandelions.

WongWong and Lulu pose in front of their parts of the Wonglu triptych. This work sold for $19,000us at auction in 1993, one of the highest prices ever paid for a work of cat art. (Note: Wongwongs final two paw marks in the lower left quadrant, acknowledging that the work is the result of collaborative effort).

1 Malane, D. Exhibition Catalog, New York (While conceding that the central white motif does have strong emotive qualities, Ian Wordly, writing in the same publication, argues that it is more likely to be Tail Symbolist and therefore suggestive of the mercurial nature of their relationship.) 

From: Why Cats Paint by Heather Busch, 1993

Pepper is one of a small number of Elemental Fragmentists, a school of mainly Siamese and Rex painters whose work consists of economy of line and form conveying only the essential elements, or a fragment of a subject. Here, Pepper poses in front of Ridiculed Rodents, 1993, Ink on Paper.

(In part from: Why Cats Paint - A Theory of Feline Aesthetics by Heather Busch, 1994)

I've taught Classical drawing and painting for over twenty years and lately, some my students have requested to learn how to make abstract art. I usually respond by saying that it is not possible to teach how to do abstract art because abstract art is expressive and has to come from inside you. There really isn't a right or wrong way to do it. What is crucial though is - Did it work? Did your message get across? What are you even trying to say?

If I ask my students, What do they want to say, or what is in here?(pointing to my heart), they usually say, "nothing". Oh really? Nothing is in there? Well, nothing they want to share anyway..well then, I wonder if they are ready to make abstract art? So they look around on the internet and see these trending posts and videos of ordinary folks pouring paint, painting with mops, or melting crayons on a canvas. They think this is abstract art. I tell them, if you want to learn abstract art from me, you're not going to get parlour tricks or new slick ways to make an "abstracted" image. Instead, you are going to learn what it is to wreck canvas after canvas and make mistakes. You will learn to be vulnerable, to face a blank white canvas, and to boldly make marks when you think you can't make marks. That's how you do it, and that may take many many years. Yes, many MANY years.

So my best method(besides being brutally truthful), is to give them a deck of cards. They then gesso each card, either black or white. Then take one card at a time and make some abstract art. It is possible to do a few at once, or do not move to the next card until the previous one is complete. In this way, they will have completed 52 small abstract images. Smaller is manageable, not as intimidating, and seemingly not as wasteful when mistakes are made. After 52 cards, a person will know if they want to continue to pursue abstraction. If they do, they can move up to trying a larger format. In my experience, most people give up after only half the deck. That says something doesn't it? Only one or two will continue on to bigger substrates. I think it means that good abstract art is much harder to execute than it looks - especially when it comes from "here".

Falon paints her second portrait of Roger the dog