Industrial Revelation : rants

Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts

Monday, 1 August 2011

A total lack of Art and Coffee on the Rocks Part 2 - A Bad Aroma

Labels: Aroma Coffee Festival, Artist in Residence, Millers Point, miniature, Opera House, Overseas Passenger Terminal, painter, plein air painting, Pyrmont, rants, Sydney Harbour, Sydney Harbour Foreshore Authority, The Rocks

I started to paint a quick oil sketch of a group of Indian dancers and was spotted by Channel 9, who were looking desperately for something to film before the festival opened. They dragged me off to a spot in front of the Opera House where they were going to film the weather report. Not a spot I would have chosen as it was looking directly into the rising sun, but I started a tiny study of Sydney Harbour, as they mentioned the Rocks Pop Up Project and 47 George st. I thought I had done a good job of being an ambassador for the Arts and the project.
There were few people passing by. Most were clustered around the tents several hundred metres away. I decided to finish my little Harbour study and then roam around in search of festival highlights to paint.
The study worked out quite well and a couple of people walking past made admiring comments. Then a group of people who had been friends of mine since my days in Pyrmont, stopped to chat.
All hell broke loose.

Society of Hatred For the Arts

I was bullied and harassed by the mindless goons operating as SHFA Rangers.
I was told not to paint in public.
I explained who I was and that I was the official Artist in Residence appointed to do exactly what I was doing and was not engaged in selling my work or harassing the public. Only people who stopped to admire my work and expressly asked for more information were spoken to.
One of the Rangers demanded that I put my wet oil paintings inside my trolley luggage so that they weren't 'on display'. They were not 'on display'- they were drying next to each other on my easel. Oil paint stays wet for up to a week, especially in winter, however sunny.
My 3 little paintings were scarcely blocking anyone's view as the largest canvas was only 30 x 15cm.
These two orange vested morons made a flurry of phone calls to their head nazi, who was apparently sitting in the penthouse suite of the Museum of Contemporary Art getting his jollies by watching the whole debacle unfold on his video screen. As a gigantic grudging concession I would be permitted to finish the little harbour view, providing I didn't let anyone watch me paint and that I packed the 2 wet oil paintings underneath my belongings in my bag.
Which of course smeared them, ruining the day's work.
They so didn't care.
I was told I had a studio at 47 George Street and I was to get back to my studio and stay inside during the festival.
I had an expensive French box easel and trolley luggage with things I had been planning to put in the studio later. Because of the festival my car was parked a long distance away. I was exhausted from coping with their haranguing and wanted to leave.
Could they stand by my easel to make sure nobody stole it?
No.
They were happy to stand there bullying me for a couple of hours, but they didn't have enough time to safeguard my belongings.
Creating art is a much more serious and dangerous crime than robbery.
I had no idea.
Obviously I'm a danger to society and have to be stopped at all costs.

They'd never seen a plein air artist before, and wanted to make sure that they never saw one again.
They won't.

Maximum points for irony - we were standing in front of the Museum of Contemporary Art. As I returned from the long trek to my car to pick up as much as I could from my former 'studio' I noted a busker occupying my spot, completely ignored by the rangers. He was singing. And very badly, too.
The rangers argued that the busker had a licence.
But then so did I.
"Artist in Residence", remember?
Why appoint an Artist in Residence and forbid them to paint?
I complained to the Rocks Marketing Authority Manager as soon as I reached the studio.
She said that she probably wasn't going to be of much use. She more than lived up to that expectation. While offering to "talk" to her troop of standover men, she could give no guarantee that the same thing wouldn't happen the next time I picked up a paintbrush outside the 'safety' of the studio.
She said something that made my blood run cold.
"People were in the Rocks to see the coffee not to see art"
Well that puts the nail in the coffin for so-called "Creative Sydney" doesn't it!
This attitude explains why Sydney doesn't have the cultural ambience of Melbourne or Adelaide, never mind aspiring to the standards of Paris or Rome.
As an Australian Artist I am used to being treated like dirt - it's part of the job. Imagine an Australian sportsperson being treated with this amount of disrespect. See, you can't, can you.
But what utterly disgusts me is the shabby pretence of "fostering creativity" while doing the utmost to stifle it.

As far as I can tell, these are the 10 rules of the City of Sydney:

Don't be an artist.
Don't be creative.
Don't produce anything. ( And if you do - don't let anyone watch you. Ever.)
Don't be eccentric.
Don't be sensitive.
Don't be unusual.
Don't be interesting.
Don't be unique.
Don't think for yourself.
Don't stand out.

Just don't.

Wednesday, 11 May 2011

Irons in the fire - Part 6 -Better than a poke in the eye with a burnt stick

Labels: art, artist, blacksmith, Eveleigh, Eveleigh Railway Workshops, exhibition, forge, foundry, gallery, industrial, industrial heritage, interior, painter, painting, paintings for sale, plein air painting, rants, wharf

A Tale of 2 Prizes

Just returned to Australia from my exhibition in Seoul, South Korea, to find a little box of acrylics, sketch books and other art paraphernalia that had been sitting on my doorstep unnoticed.
As well as winning actual money as 2nd prize at the Royal Easter Show, some kind sponsor had thrown in some art equipment as well.

I could easily go through all the paint in those little tubes in a single afternoon, but all donations gratefully received!

E83 'Blacksmith forging '2011
ink pastel acrylic on paper 9 x 10cm
WINNER 2nd Prize for Miniature Painting
2011 Royal Easter Show
Sold
PRIVATE COLLECTION : SYDNEY
Enquiries : janecooperbennett@gmail.com

When you add the cash amount to the cost of the box of paints, this tiny little painting actually won more than double its price in prize money ! I wish I could keep that standard up for every painting!

'The Blacksmith' 2011

oil on canvas 75 x 100cm
PRIVATE COLLECTION : SYDNEY
Enquiries : janecooperbennett@gmail.com

However, my other equally worthy contenders for prizes got nowhere.

A thorn in my side has been the so-called "Plein Air Painting" Prize. I doubt that I will ever bother entering again.

As I am one of the very few genuine plein air painters in existence, who doesn't just paint small studies but lugs giant canvases around wharves, demolition sites and foundries, to the bemusement of hundreds of surprised wharfies, blacksmiths and demolition contractors, I consider this art prize a farce. The trouble is that after decades of painting swiftly in adverse weather conditions in front of workmen and passers-by, my works just don't have that clumsy slapped together look demanded by the organizers.

My works rarely have much 'studio intervention' other than simple repair work ( bird dirt, insect,twig and dust removal ; and removal of grubby fingerprints from carrying them awkwardly) They have been painted quickly, but as these might well be the only records of a particular event or even an entire location, they have to look as though time were not an issue, or the lack of time an excuse for bad painting. In other words, they have to compete on their merits.

Ironically, the same works entered in the Plein Air Painting Prize (not the ones shown here by the way) had won art prizes elsewhere in which the painting process was not an issue.

Now I've had good works chucked out of countless other art prizes and just laughed about it - I take a philosophical attitude.

The funniest occasion was when my rather nice watercolour of the Spit Bridge got thrown out of the Royal Easter show, and, wanting to get it out of my lounge room, I put it in the Wynne Prize for Landscape for a bit of a laugh. It promptly won the Trustee's Prize for Watercolour and the Pring Prize - the joke was that if it hadn't been chucked out of the Royal Easter Show I would never have thought of entering the Wynne.

In all my years of winning prizes and selling paintings at the Royal Easter Show, getting my painting thrown out was the biggest favour they ever did me!

So why does this particular art prize stick in my throat? Because it is a Plein Air Art Prize.

I have never had a work hung in this particular art prize where I am quite possibly one of its few genuine practitioners. And I probably never will.

I have been told that my works don't have the 'look' of having been painted 'en plein air'. Yet they are. To be regarded as 'credible' my paintings should be messier, more thickly painted, more indecisive,dumber, clumsier, more unfinished, with less ambitious perspective and simpler composition and design. I have paid the penalty for my painting skill.

The works should be smaller as well- this art prize has the strange size restriction of being geared towards vertical work, with a generous vertical height limit of 2m but a horizontal one of only 85cm.

Because "nobody paints large canvases 'en plein air' !"

The predictable result is a bias towards a vertical grid of little studies. Fine, but one of the valid aspects of landscape painting has always been the "sublime"- the feeling of being overawed and overwhelmed, even physically threatened by the landscape. In this art prize there is no room for the heroic.

In short you mustn't challenge their preconceptions of what a plein air painting is. And I have no use for work that toes the line and does the 'expected'. I have been punished for my temperament as well as my skill in painting.

I've seen artists (usually amateurs) paint outdoors in parks, gardens or the rural environment. But in all my decades of painting I have never seen anyone except Tom Carment tackle the urban environment we all mostly actually live in, 'en plein air'. I can't help feeling that artists indulge in escapism by going off for expensive weekend retreats to the bush for 'inspiration' instead of noticing the hidden beauty closer to home.

So today I will take my unloved and unbelieved paintings from the art gallery loading dock, back to the wharf, construction site or foundry where they were created. At least the truck-drivers, wharfies and security guards who watched me paint them, know how to appreciate them.

And they certainly do.

These works have now all been sold.