Thursday, April 24, 2014

Would Anyone Want a Free Painting?

If I were to offer my paintings for free and I mean free, no shipping, nothing!

You could only choose one.

Would you take one? If so, which one?

Thursday, April 10, 2014

What Lies Between

30" x 30" x 1.4"
mixed media on canvas
$225 + shipping/packing

Painting Worlds to Explore

Tuesday, April 8, 2014


About a year ago I bought tons of photography gear, hoping to go into photography as well as continue with my abstract art. I sold all of that equipment because it was, quite frankly overkill for what I needed to do. I bought a very high end computer.

Fast forward to about a week ago.. I sold my computer to ...wait for it...... to buy another camera.  I know, I'm funny like that!

In short, I will be coming out with my own YouTube channel, showing my struggles, and victories behind my abstract painting process.

With a higher mega-pixel camera I'll be able to offer prints of my work as well. I will be photographing all of my work again, at least what I have available.

So rest assured, I haven't quit... just kind of re-gearing.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

New Series - Returning Home

I wanted to return to the style of abstracts I used to paint when I started out. This series is going to be about simplifying. I see it even moving toward minimalism. I want to return to building shapes, interlocking shapes. Shapes with value changes, hard edges and dramatic colors. Painting worlds to explore.
Brian Sommers

Returning Home #1 (04/2014)
22" x 30"
acrylic on paper
no mat, no frame
$165 + shipping/packing
(click on image to enlarge)

Why do an art series?

I found this somewhere one day surfing and I unfortunately don't have the source...
Reasons for Artists to Make Art in Series
Advantages to Bodies of Work Over Single Pieces

If you make art for yourself and no one else, then make whatever you want. If you make art for the rest of us and you're interested in having us understand what you're up to, you better make it in ways that give us a fighting chance to figure that out. You understand your art perfectly because you're the one making it, and you know yourself and your motivations extremely well. The rest of us, on the other hand, either don't know you that well or don't know you at all, which means that we need help deciphering what your art is about. So help us.
Now the easiest way to do that is to work in series-- to create unified, cohesive, coherent bodies of work. Many artists aren't aware of the advantages to creating multiple works of art around the same idea, theme, philosophy, concept, topic or subject matter. Instead they produce what I call "onesies." Their typical approach goes something like this-- "I'll make one of these, now I'll make one of these, then I'll make one of these," and so on and so forth, resulting in a largely unrelated incoherent hodgepodge of work (not to the artist, but certainly to us viewers). To make matters worse, they often present everything together with little or no organization or contextualization, either on their websites or elsewhere, as if to say, "Here's what I do; you figure it out." But that's another article.
The problem with the "I make whatever I feel like making, whenever I feel like making it" approach to art is that when everything is different and there's no common thread; it's difficult for us to get a grip on where you're going, what you stand for, what your art is about. Viewers try their best to sift through everything and make sense of it, but if no clear order, pattern or intent is evident, they basically give up. Every new work they see is different from all those that preceded it, so what they end up having to do is pretty much of a start, stop, start, stop, start, stop process of figuring each piece out from scratch. That's not only labor intensive, but also confusing and ultimately exhausting.
When you ask artists why they create art this way, a typical answer is that they want to make sure they have something for everyone. The truth is that way more often than not, they end up with nothing for anyone. People are either unable to understand the art in its entirety, they don't have time to look at and analyze every single piece, they can't get a handle on what the artists' identities or purposes are, or they're so overwhelmed with options that they can't make up their minds about what they like. Far more often than not in situations like this, they end up confused, frustrated, and buying nothing.
Another common excuse artists give for not working in series is that they don't want to get repetitive or locked into particular looks or compositions, or end up in a rut. It's all about their artistic freedom, they say. But is this approach to making art really a rut or a loss of freedom? Not necessarily. The idea of working in series or in distinct purposeful directions is actually the opposite of condemning oneself to a life of sameness or repetition. The process is not about repetition at all, but rather about being able to explore, investigate, examine or address particular ideas, themes, compositions, concepts or topics in deeper and more meaningful ways and from a greater variety of perspectives than from just one or two. It's like looking at something under a microscope as opposed to giving it a casual passing glance. The closer you look, the more you see.
If you only do it once or twice and then move on to whatever you feel like doing next, then how much can you possibly benefit from such a brief encounter or experience? How much in-depth wisdom can you gain? How much can you benefit us? What do you ultimately have to share or communicate? Not much.
If however you produce a unified series or body of themed related works, you in a sense become the expert or authority on whatever thoughts, inspirations or ideas are embodied within that art. The knowledge and experiences that accrue from contemplating or considering a well-defined set of parameters from multiple perspectives allows you to nuance your compositions more thoroughly, accurately and in greater detail, and to thereby communicate the results or conclusions of your observations in more impactful, compelling and consequential ways. You're able to more convincingly get your points across and to more profoundly connect with your audience. People have an easier time understanding, appreciating and being moved by what you're up to when you make an effort to explain it to them in detail (through a unified body of work) rather than give some snappy answer (in one or two works) along with the impression that there's not much more to say.
At play also are the phenomena of strength in numbers, and of the whole as greater than the sum of the parts. In other words, there's a cumulative effect above and beyond that of each individual work in the grouping considered solely on its own merits. Most people don't get it the first time, whatever it is. They need to have it explained, approached or presented in more ways than one, from multiple perspectives. Simply put, redundancy works-- not the same exact thing done over and over again, but rather stated and restated in different yet interconnected ways. Your job is not done until viewers can say, "I get it; I see your point; I know exactly what you're thinking, where you're coming from, why this is important to you, and why it's worth my time to consider."
In a way, you can compare making art to writing a novel or composing music. Very few ideas can be adequately expressed in single paragraphs or musical stanzas as compared to how thoroughly they can be treated in entire books or symphonies. The same holds true for art. A single painting has no beginning, middle or end. It has no theme, no plot, no context or direction. It's a one-off and not much more. We can only guess at its greater purpose, story line or the meta-message that it's intended to convey (assuming it even has any of that). And in the overwhelming majority of cases, that deficit is decidedly unsatisfying for viewers. They need more-- a fuller context, understanding or build-out as to where the art comes from, why it exists, and where it's going. They want an experience, not an instance; they want to feel like they're on a journey, immersed or involved with something meaningful, and becoming enlightened or informed along the way.
Think about how galleries show art. Pretty much any established gallery showing the current work of any established artist presents a unified selection or body of art. It's almost like they're saying, "We have one product or idea or concept or commentary or philosophy or whatever in a variety of shapes, sizes or colors." And do you know why galleries do this? For exactly the same reasons stated above. They know that people need help understanding what they're looking at, and that an unclear, disorganized or disjointed show will confuse audiences really easily. They know that nobody buys anything they don't understand. They know that advancing someone to the point where they whip out the checkbook or the credit card to ultimately make a purchase takes an eminently complete, compelling and satisfying presentation.
The way our minds work is that we have a constant need to organize, order and make sense of our surroundings. If anything is unclear, we instinctively do whatever we have to do to resolve it, to eliminate confusion and gain some sense of control. We don't like uncertainty; we don't like not knowing what's going on. The same holds true for art. We dearly want to feel connected to it. We want to understand. And this is why a series or body of work is far more effective than onesies. The individual interrelated pieces experienced as a whole help viewers get to where they want to go and reward them with the satisfaction that they've been somewhere and have seen something worth seeing.
Last but not least, a well thought out and executed body of work demonstrates to all those razor-tongued critics, discerning five-star gallery owners and finicky hardcore collectors that you've got the moxie, you know what you're doing, where you're going, and what you have to do to get there. These professionals understand what it takes for artists to distinguish themselves above and beyond the morass of mediocre talent out there. If an artist makes only one or two of something, no matter how good they are, the pros often wonder, "Well, did they just get lucky? Or can they do it again.... and again and again?" It's the "again" part that counts-- the depth, the seriousness, the dedication and commitment manifested in a superbly conceived and cohesive group of works as opposed to only one or two. People who know art assess by numbers, not onesies; onesies tell them nothing. A body of work speaks to the breadth, scope and brilliance of an artist's creative abilities, the depth with which they can expound or elucidate on a particular subject, topic, concept, idea or whatever. A lone isolated work of art is nothing more than a start. So if you're going to start something, you better be prepared to finish it.
Additional pointers for working in series:
* Decide what you want your body of work to be about, either early on in the series or before you even start. The more specifically you're able to define, quantify and outline your intentions, the more focused and directed you become, and the more unified the works will ultimately be.
* If you're not sure whether you want to go in a particular direction with multiple works, rather than producing finished pieces right from the start, sketch out various ideas for compositions first. See whether they hold your interest individually or as a group, whether they're worth following up on, or whether you need to rethink what you're doing.
* For those of you who prefer or insist on making different kinds of art, work on several series simultaneously.
* Once you finalize the ideas behind your art, stick with them. This isn't always easy, but forcing yourself to maintain a high level of focus and discipline without getting distracted keeps you totally involved in the outcome. An unwavering intensity of engagement is always evident in a successful body of work.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

just thinking outloud...

i was thinking about the quote i came up with years ago when i was flying remote airplanes at the club field one day and my engine wouldn't start and it became very frustrating, especially adding in the hot humid august sun in sarasota florida. 

"Life in itself is simple, we choose in how we want to live it"

then I thought maybe I should share that with the minimalists blog
and I did.

we all start out by getting our rear ends powered but as the years the "stuff" gets to be more, only by our own choosing.

how would simple look as a painting series?

maybe I'll do some minimalistic drawings/paintings on 10" x 10" paper...

as always, painting worlds to explore...........