in the studio

Painting, working from the model, wrestling meaning from a puddle of paint, the paper resists, the brush seems particularly uncooperative, and where is that foot coming from? My ego is alternately blushed by the success of a wonderful mark, then crushed by the clumsy blob that might have been a hip or thigh? I have to put that 'mad' ego voice aside if anything is going to happen.
I want to be a good painter. NO, that is a lie.. I want to be a magical, genius painter. I want to see poetry float above the surface anchored by the rigor of knowing everything about the figure and then ignoring it, allowing the paint and light to do its job.
But all this talk must wait until the work is done. I can't paint if the mind is grabbing for approval.I will let the paint speak and tell me its secrets, for that, I must shut up.
I look into the mark I have made to see what it has to offer. Something begins to emerge and I follow it. There is nothing right or wrong, something is beginning. At least there is more paint on the paper and that is something. There is too much water and the paper is behaving badly. I wipe a lot off and suddenly there is more. The drying pigment is a shadow of the gesture and though not articulated, it is the heart of the figure, and only a little more is needed.
Thresholds of recognition, tolerable limits of reality, the least amount needed to know, the image asks the viewer to come in and finish it.
It is what is most elusive, mysterious... the art of engagement.
Carl Belz, past curator of the Rose Museum at Brandeis came to my studio in the early 80's. I had hung a bunch of paintings about the place. He said nothing. He walked over to a pile of collages. What are these? I answered, "Studies for the paintings".. Well, these are interesting...
After he left, I looked at the studies and then the paintings. The studies were the questions and the paintings were the answers.. hmmm.. he was right, the questions engaged curiosity, struggle and not knowing....where the paintings were competent execution of some painterly - ness. mess. Decor. Easy on the eye..

In the figures, I ask, what do I see. The work is tentative. I put something down and wait to receive, tolerating the gap, staring into the silence... The model gives me the frame, the light is slower to give up it's poetry.

Questions my students ask.
How did you get to be a such a good painter? I was naive enough to think that it was possible, patient enough to keep painting when it seemed impossible, humble enough to live through painting many bad paintings to fill many bins, hungry enough to sell good and bad work to make it possible to keep buying materials, healthy enough to keep at it.

What do you mean good and bad work? Well, I didn't want to sell bad work because it was bad and I didn't want to sell good work because I wanted to keep the good work. So, I gave up thinking about that and sold what ever I could.

How long did it take for you to paint that painting? All my life.

When did you know you were an artist? When I was 5.

How do you know you are a painter? When I paint, I am a painter.

How long did it for you to learn to paint? I am still learning.

Who taught you to paint? Everyone, everything.

You are not really answering my questions, why wont you tell me what to do?
I can only tell you what I did, they are my answers, not yours.

So, what do I have to do? Keep painting.

Do you think you are a great painter? No, compared to the many great painters... it is enough to say I paint. Actually, I would not show a great painter my work.

Why not? Great painters have already done their work, to learn from them, all you have to do is look.

Would you like to be rich? Yes.

What would you do if you were rich? I would paint.

Finding Berringer. MOSES

 I received an email from a gentleman whose wife had purchased this piece from Clark Gallery in Lincoln MA.  He had also seen some of my early work  at Tufts New England Medical Center.  This is one of the first group of large scale monoprints that I made in the early eighties. In terms of my development as an artist, it is not too much to say that without the support and vision of Meredyth Moses my work could not have continued or matured.  The people who support emerging artists can see the trajectory, the momentum of an artist's energy and vision, sharing the hope of seeing the work through to its fruition. An artist can not work forever in a vacuum. Regardless of whether art is ever acknowledged by the public or the art pundits, it was made to communicate something. To make manifest an idea that could be expressed in no other way. Without some connection ideas float into the void, without the touch of being known, madness.