Introducing Abstract into the catalog of Gilded Modernism®

I’m asked quite often, why I paint so many different styles of art and why I don’t focus on one particular style ie; Landscapes, Figurative, Still Life or Wild Life?” Actuality, I never really thought about it. I just paint what I’m in the mood for day by day. Over the years I’ve either had professional training, self training or crash courses in most, if not all, of the different disciplines and art styles. So, when I’m setting in to start a new piece, there are no real limits of what I expect of myself. To me that can be exciting. It can also be annoying. Similar to the days of going to the video store to pick a movie out of the multitude on the racks, which to choose? I now try to plan these decisions based on the collection that will be at a show or event, and what would give it a well rounded look.

 

Enter the aspect that I noticed was missing from my collections – the representation of Abstract works.

 

Now, before you close this page thinking that I’m going to start throwing the obligatory handfuls of paint, or maybe shooting dye filled balloons out of a cannon at a canvas, fear not. While I have colleagues that do so very successfully, I wanted to bring something different to the table in the realms of abstract. Something that would augment the look and feel of Gilded Modernism®. A good friend once said to me, “I don’t want to just observe or read about great art, I want to add to the dialogue” this stuck in my head and dramatically altered my view of my own art creation process and its trajectory.

 

I started to experiment and contemplate what an abstract painting would look like in my style of Gilded Modernism®? The question was also the answer simply enough, it would be gilded. At that point I understood I wanted to feature a fully gilded final painting. Well, a painting that has no paint on it (Im not sure what to call that just yet) An artwork that features the ancient art of gilding exclusively. Now, I needed variations in colors and types of metal. I needed to build “the pallet” of my metals and available tinted metal options to chose from. I would start with larger areas and sizes of leafing and burnishes. Building the depth with contrasts through counter burnishes, light reflection, leaf colors and precious metal leafing. Using traditional hand cut and progressively smaller sizes, bringing the composition forward until I feel a cohesive depth, balance of colors and visual weight distribution.

 

This process is not quick, nor easy. There is no map to follow. There is no sketch to work from. There is only the first leaf laid down and the last leaf laid down. In between is solely a testing of patience, technique and skill. I would compare it to playing yourself in a game of chess and actually trying to win. Most of the abstracts I’ve made thus far have taken an average of two to three months, just to create one. I’m steadily learning from the process with each one completed, what to do and what not to do on the next.

 

I was recently asked, “how do you know when an Abstract is finished?”

 

The only way I have personally come to this determination is when I’m holding a square of leafing in my hand, and after twenty minutes or so, staring and squinting my eyes, trying to find placement  for it – if I can’t, that’s when I call it done and sign it. The best part about the new abstracts, in my opinion, is that they are one of one originals. Meaning they are not reproduced in any way. Actually, I’m not quite sure they will ever be able to, based on the final overall look. But never say never. As you walk past one of them, the burnishes and contrasts fire off at you as they gather light from many different angles, fluctuating with every different viewpoint.

 

I believe I owe it to the collectors and fans of my work as well as myself, to keep things moving forward. Working to steadily break new ground with Gilded Modernism®. Maintaining the highest level of collector expectancy, through continual experimentation with new methods and applications. Setting the pace, not following one.