Beyond the Art Fair

Film Purists! Feh!

2011-04-16T08:28:00.001-06:00

Being an art fair artist means that I talk to a lot of people about art. A LOT of people. Literally thousands of people.

Some are knowlegable about art. Most are not. All deserve my attention. I believe we learn from every conversation -- even if I'm annoyed at the time.

A handful just want to impress me with their "superior" knowledge.

Those conversations go something like this:

Man (Sorry, but it's ALAWYS a man): I see you're using film. That's great. I only use film.

Me: Yes, this body of work uses a discontinued Polaroid film. I love the characteristics of the film, but I work in digital too.

Man: Oh, digital isn't real photography. I'm a purist. I only shoot film. Anyone can shoot digital.

Me: A purist? Really? (I'm getting annoyed by this time.) I would think if you're a purist that you would coat your own glass plates and not shoot film. Film is so 20th Century. A PURIST would shoot glass plates.

Man: (reaching for his cell phone) Sorry. I gotta take this.

For years I've been saying, rather sarcastically, that purists would coat their own glass plates. It's the arrogant photographer who thinks that his or her medium is the PURE one and rest of us are lazy hacks. It's the vision --and the ability to communicate that vision -- not the tool, that is important.

Imagine my surprise when I heard Webster Univeristy Photography Professor Extraordinaire and acquaintance Bill Barrett use EXACTLY THOSE SAME WORDS in a discussion about "purists" using the now defunct Kodachrome film during an interview on the local NPR show yesterday.

"Purists would coat their own glass plates," he said.

Now, Bill and I haven't had a chance to spend a lot of time together, and I don't think we're ever heard the other say this line.

My only conclusion: great minds think alike! Thanks for the affirmation, Bill!

And if you're in St. Louis, please go to the May Gallery at Webster to see the Kodachrome exhibit the university put together from the last batch of processed film shot by students and faculty. Buy the book. Support the next generation of artists who dare to work in photography. And support their teachers.

Where IS Feminist Art These Days?

2011-04-04T09:51:00.003-06:00


*Summer Garden*, 9x11 inches, Mixed Media, ©2011 Jeane Vogel, $75.

Beware. I drop the "F" word a lot. I grew up hearing it was a dirty word but I never understood why. It seemed to me to be the most natural thing in the world.

Feminism.

How could Feminism be offensive? It's a word that proclaims independence and equality and respect for all women.

Except to many people it doesn't mean any of those things. In the '70s it meant that women and men would have to share bathrooms. And women would have to go to war, or work, or not have a chance to be mothers and ultimately fulfilled as women. Oh, F.... Opps. Almost dropped that other "F" word. That’s generally how I respond when I heard those lies that we told to defeat the Equal Rights Amendment -- the Constitutional Amendment that would guarantee equal rights for women.

Instead, what feminism meant to my generation of women -- Baby Boomers -- was reproductive freedom, and equal pay for equal work, and access to education and jobs previously available only to men, and credit in our own names -- in fact the right to keep our own names. We hoped for the chance to go to work and not be sexually harassed. We dreamed of the day our minds would be respected, even if we had great breasts and long slender legs... or especially if we didn't.

The artists among us put these ideals into our art. The artists did what artists always do: they pushed the boundaries of "traditional" art to raise our consciousness and our hopes. Feminist art demanded reforms in the way we thought about women's abilities and women’s bodies. They lifted the veils of modesty that chained women to myths of helplessness and dependence.

It's 40 years later, and I'm left wondering what feminist art is now. Have we come very far?

I’m so grateful to have been able to attend the 2011 Women's Caucus for Art National Conference. It was a delicious orgy of women and art and ideas and challenges to push beyond individual limits. Breathlessly huddled over coffee or beer we asked: What can we do next? How can we do it? Who can we collaborate with to accomplish it? Where will it take us?

On the edge of inspiration was a nagging feeling that feminism, and feminist art, has lost its power and impact. What is feminist art now? What does it mean to women born after Roe v Wade gave women the right to control their reproduction?

We saw a lot of “feminist” art at the national conference. I saw some interesting work, some not. In 2011, is feminist art simply work that has been produced by women? Is it a way to rehash middle class injustices of childhood? Will it change the world? Will anyone ever notice?

Frankly, I was disappointed in the energy and spirit of younger women artists as they presented work they named feminist. Some explored the same themes that challenged their mothers and grandmothers. Do young women of today face the same misogynist obstacles that we did when Richard Nixon was President? Sometimes. But the 2011 responses seem to be turned inward and personal and mostly consumed with body image.

What have we done to our daughters? Feminism means it’s ok to look the way you look? Well, sure it does. But is that all?

A common feminist theme – reproduction freedom – was nowhere incorporated into new work I saw. Instead, there were throwbacks to visuals of the 1950s. What are younger women trying to tell us? Are they romanticizing those years of emotional and suburban captivation for women?

And when I turn the mirror on myself, I have to ask: Where is my feminist art? Am I championing women or I am falling into self-indulging visual self-stimulation too?

I’m challenging myself. I’m challenging you. I’m not part of that younger generation making feminist art. I’m part of the older group. It’s not my turn to lead the way anymore, but there are still too much for us to say in our art that can turn a head… or a heart… to benefit our sisters.

Let’s create art that will change our world.

This blog was originally published by Jeane Vogel in the March 2011 WCA-St. Louis Newsletter.

Working in Series

2011-02-21T10:23:00.001-06:00

Whenever I teach a photography workshop to more advanced students, I encourage them to work in series -- to create works with a common theme or subject matter.

Most think this is easy and silly. So what? Who wants to see 12 pictures of the same thing?

Then I tell them: write out your ideas and research your themes before your shoot.

What? We're photographers, they yell! We shoot what we see.

Ugh. What's wrong with this picture (pun intended!)? What's wrong is that the photographer is passive if she's only shooting what she sees or finds interesting. That's one of the reasons that some people don't see photography as "art" -- and are not shy about telling me so!

BE ACTIVE in your art. There are lots of ways to elevate a "snapshot" to the realm of art. One way is INTENTION.

Photography is communication, like any other art form. The artist has something to SAY. Before saying it, she needs to know what it is she wants to impart. That takes thought, time, research and lots and lots of work.

Whether the message is obvious and simple, or conceptual and complex, the best work in series will be thoughtful.

Last Friday, my newest work "Sacred Movement" was unveiled at Third Degree Glass Factory in St. Louis. It started about 10 months ago with a conversation. One of the owners of a belly-dance school and professional troupe approached me about working together to get images of the women dancing. I could use them anyway I wanted and I agreed to do some publicity stills for them. Win-win. I had no previous interest in belly dancing, other than it was beautiful and fun.

I started my research. I played with ideas in my head.

Within months, about the time we scheduled the shoot, some ideas had formed. The research jelled.

Belly dancing is a woman's dance for women. It's not supposed to be sexual. It's not supposed to be for men! It's for women. It's also mystical and holy. It reveals and conceals. There are layers and layers and layers of meaning.

There was my concept! I wanted to reclaim this dance for women. While I rarely use a lot of digital work, "Sacred Movement" needed layers and layers of textures and colors, which I could do with digital painting. The result is an evolving work I'm delighted with.

Not everyone gets it. Some just see pictures of women dancing. That's ok. I hope they see GOOD pictures of women dancing.

Those who do "get it" rewarded me with interpretations that added to my original concept and enhanced the series with satisfaction that comes from the sharing of ideas.

Artist statement:

SACRED MOVEMENT
A Tribute to Women, Dance and the Feminine Divine

 Like a curtain being pulled aside, revealing another world. That’s how Jeane Vogel’s work has been described.

In Sacred Movement, Jeane reveals the feminine divine through the fluid grace of the dancer -- specifically the belly dancer.

A uniquely feminine dance, belly dancing has been sexualized by the West. Originally, it was a tribute to the Goddess -- a prayer, a gratitude, a celebration.

In Sacred Movement, Jeane reclaims the intent of the dance and rededicates it to feminine divinity. These photographic images have been digitally painted to create layers and layers of texture and color, unveiling the secrets of the dance. The hand-deckled edges are suggestive of frayed fabric, fringes and baubles. The artist’s intent is to create images that are simultaneously light and complicated, intense and accessible, layered and simple. She invites you to approach the art as you would a relationship. How does it make you feel? Does it evoke a memory? An emotion? A call to action?

Many thanks to the professional dancers and advanced students of Aalim Dance for being partners in creation of this evolving work.

Unexpected Lesson

2010-11-11T09:02:00.000-06:00

When I teach, I never know what the lesson will truly be.

That's the gift teachers are given, I think. We plan, but the lesson might be something far more profound.

Last week I was in Atlanta as Artist in Residence for a national mental health organization. I teach on the Youth Track, 13-25 year olds. I'm there, techically, to teach a photography workshop, but it's really a three-part session on self-expression. The work produced each year knocks my socks off.

The first session is shooting. We find an area near the hotel that will provide the richest amount of content for the photographers. This time it was Centennial Olympic Park. Coming back from the park, I was in the rear of the 21-person group walking with a straggler. As we neared the hotel, we saw a loud, energetic picket line of workers protesting low wages.

"This is my first protest!" The student, a high school junior from Montgomery, AL, was beside herself with excitement. She ran to document it with the few shots left on her camera.

Flushed and animated, she returned. "Do protests work?"

"Sure," I said. "Peaceful, powerful protests work all the time. The ones that work are the ones that have clear goals."

"Huh?" She had no idea what I was talking about. I tried to make it more personal.

"Do we have Jim Crow laws anymore?" I asked. I thought a light bulb of instant understanding would go off in the head of this African-American girl from Montgomery. The civil rights movement was seminal to forming everything that I am as a person, as an artist, as a political being. It's a touchpoint. Sometimes I forget that not everyone thinks the way I do and that it was 50 years ago. Those events are history to this child. Ugly history. Maybe even boring history.

"Jim Crow? What are those? I don't remember."

Really? A girl from Montogermy, AL, didn't know what Jim Crow laws were? I couldn't decide if that was great or tragic.

I tried again: "Are there separate water fountains for blacks and whites anymore? Can you and I go to the hotel restaurant and have a meal together?"

She was starting to understand.

"Protests work," I said. "You are growing up in a different world than I did because of peaceful protests."

I got a look of "wow." We spent the next 10 minutes talking about the power of peaceful protests. We talked about the Montgomery Bus Boycott, the Freedom Riders who came from all over the country to protest Jim Crow, Dr. King, the sanitation worker's strike that cost Dr. King his life. We talked about what she might want to change in her life.

That a peaceful group can band together and work tirelessly to change a wrong turned out to be the lesson of day. For one girl. From one teacher.

Art Saves Lives.

Using Art to Change the World

2010-10-04T08:01:00.006-06:00

Is there a more versatile method of communication than art?

Art can tell a story, retrieve a memory, provoke an argument, inspire a movement.

Art saves lives. Art can change the world.

My dear friend and conception artist/sculptor Ilene Berman likes to say, "If art doesn't change the world, what's the point?" Indeed. Her project, NODhouse, is calling attention to inequities in art allocation resources in an area that is deemed "undesirable." Ilene's art will change this part of the world.

Dare to Touch the Face of God is another of those projects. It's my most ambitious project and, frankly, I need your help.

DTFG (it's too long to spell it out all the time!) is my response to the vitriol, hatred and fear mongering that seems to ramp up everyday because it's easy to victimize and demonize people we don't know or understand.

For a thousand years in Europe, if something went wrong, you could be sure it was the Jews' fault, or the Gypsy's. We know how that ended.

Today, it's the Muslim's fault. Yes. It's the same song. It's the same root cause. It's the same fear.

It has to stop.

But it's not just Islam that is feared and misunderstood. We don't really talk about religion. It's not polite. We don't know much about other people's faiths. We don't understand. Our prejudices are under the table.

Polygamists are creepy pedophiles. Catholics want a lot children and do whatever they're told by the Pope. Buddhists are godless. Pagans eat babies. Jews are rich and controlling. Amish are backward but quaint. Atheists are communists.

Muslims are terrorists.

Don't tell me you haven't heard this. I know you have. And worse. And we can reject every one of them... and still be afraid. Why? Because it's not the stereotypes that do the most harm. It's our inability to think of members of different religions as people. And then to respond to them that way.

Dare to Touch the Face of God is a project to put a human face on faith. The series is intended to capture to breadth of religious understanding among people, and to further the definition of God. My goal is to put a human face on faith traditions or practices we might not understand or know about. Put a person -- famous or not -- with a practice or an idea. My subjects will be people who are willing to work with me to communicate their faith through a photograph.

Simple. Human. Delicate. True.

The project has been accepted as a Kickstarter project. Kickstarer helps innovative art projects secure funding from ordinary people who want to support the arts.

That's where you come in. Your support of this project is essential to it's success. Thank you!

Have an idea for a subject? I'm looking for your input on that too. Send me a private message or use the comment section to start a conversation. A separate website, DareToTouchTheFaceOfGod.com will be live by Oct 6.

Oh Sure! Anyone Can Do This!

2010-07-03T08:00:00.009-06:00

Some art collectors like to denigrate photography.

"Anybody can take a picture," I'm told.

You cannot image how many times I've heard this. It's said to my face because the patron thinks I'm being paid a compliment! It's said as he or she is looking at my Polaroid Paintings, where I use the emulsion as a painting medium. Because I've altered the image by hand, the work has been elevated to the realm of "art." I'm no longer "just" a photographer, but an artist.

"You've almost made art here!" one woman gushed in appreciation. I took a breath. Yeah, I thought. I came THIS close!

Can anyone take a picture? Sure. Can anyone pick up a brush and paint? Sure. Doesn't mean it's going to be art.

It's such a narrow definition -- art. And made more complicated in the field of photography because of the easy availability of cameras. Everyone has one -- or three. Pull out a phone, and pull out a camera. People have stood in my booth at art fairs and scrolled through dozens of "great" pictures they took. They're saying to me: See? I can take good pictures too! We're part of the same club.

Maybe we are. It's a pretty big club and they're lots of room for everyone, but that doesn't mean all the work is the same.

I will agree with the idea that "anyone can make a picture." But that's not the same thing as creating a work of art in the medium of photography.

"Is photography art?" is an argument as old as the medium itself. Every generation takes it up again and makes new rules. In the digital age, there are some who call themselves "purists" who insist that if the image is not captured on film and developed in the darkroom, then it's not "real" fine art photography.

Oh, feh! I've seen plenty of crappy work come out of the darkroom. Honestly, if you want to be a "purist," then coat your own glass plates and make images on those. If not, then shut up with the arrogance.

It's not the tool or the substrate that makes the art (though please don't take iPhone pictures and call them art. I know -- that's my arrogance -- but please!!!!) Then what is it?

It's the ability to take a great photograph... and then do it again.

It's the courage to try something new, and learn from it.

It's the thoughtfulness to create an image in your imagination, then transfer that image to film or paper or sensor.

It's the knowledge of how to transfer your ideas to paper or film, without guessing or hoping for the best, but knowing.

It's the deliberate and purposeful communication of an idea or a feeling or a mood with an image ... without adding anything words or explanations.

It's the commitment to create a body of work, in your vision, that is recognizable as yours.

It's the confidence to let your work speak for itself, and allow the viewer to add his or her own interpretation.

Art takes time. Art takes thought. Art takes labor.

There's a reason it's call a work of art.

Arcadian Dreams #12, Infrared photograph ©2010 Jeane Vogel. All rights reserved.

If They Gave Awards for Art Fairs...

2010-05-19T07:56:00.006-06:00

If they gave awards for art fairs, then Marion Art Festival and Deb Bailey would win one.

What are we waiting for? Let's create one. Let's call it the Nancy Saturn Memorial Award and give it those art fair directors who care about artists only more than than care about art. We'll give it to directors who want to bring the best art to their community, who treat the artists with respect, who want more than to line their pockets... well, you get the idea.

I should back up a bit. Who was Nancy Saturn and why name an award after her?

Nancy was the owner of the American Artisan Gallery in Nashville. She died in March 2010 of breast cancer -- a cancer she thought she beat years ago.

Nancy and her husband Alan were well known as philanthropists and lovers of art and fine craft -- and artists and fine crafters -- far beyond their Nashville home. For the last 40 years, Nancy and her team hosted the American Artisan Fair in Nashville's Centennial Park on Father's Day weekend. An artist could apply to be in the show, but Nancy hand picked and invited the artists.

Once at the show, the artist was Nancy's guest. She visited each of the 200 or so artists during the 3-day show. On the first night of the show, she opened her home to the artists for a feast worthy of a wedding. She told us what she liked. She told us what to work on. She was generally right.

More than that, Nancy cared about the quality of the show, the quality of the work and the needs of the artist. She fed us, she encouraged us, she nurtured new artists, she commiserated with the old artists.

She knew the power of art. The show has donated more than $1 million to Gilda's Club of Nashville, to support people with cancer. Most of us donated work to be auctioned off for Gilda's Club to supplement the fair's contributions.

Nancy's daughter, Samantha, and her team continue the tradition. This year's fair, June 18-20, will be especially poignant. Nancy is gone. Alan died a few weeks before last year's fair. And Nashville has been devastated by spring floods. We miss Nancy and Alan and wish only the best for Nashville families who are recovering. We will come to Nashville and hope our art will hasten the healing.

So why give this award to Deb Bailey?

Deb, with her team, runs the Marion Art Fest, in Marion IA. It's a small town near Cedar Rapids. It's a gem of a show and Deb pulls together 50 artists from all over the country to share with her fellow Iowans.

Now don't be confused. Iowa is a not back-water flyover state, contrary to the opinion of some jaded city folk. It is a stated filled with some of the most educated and sophisticated art-lovers in the US. They know art, they like art, they buy art. And they count on Deb to bring the best and most varied work to their town. And she does.

But more, she cares about the artists. Her emails are personal and fun. Her directions are clear and specific. Her rules are minimal but intended to put on the best show possible and annoy the artists the least.

She markets the show. She brings in the right patrons. She feds us dinner and hands us a glass of wine. She makes artists feel valued and welcomed. Trust me, we don't get that very much.

Congratulations, Deb. The first Nancy Saturn Memorial Award for Excellence in Art Fair Management goes to you. And thank you for setting the bar so high for all of us.

Artwork pictured: Last Stroll, ©2010 Jeane Vogel, Polaroid Painting.

What If My Work is Boring?

2010-04-07T09:49:00.008-06:00

I had two fears heading to a recent trip to Costa Rica. One, was a fear of heights. I'll write about that later.

The second was that the work I would do there would be boring.

I traveled as a chaperon on an 8th grade Spanish class trip. I wanted to travel with my daughter (nine days, no fighting, personal record), brush up my Spanish a bit and, of course, shoot. A photographer always shoots.

But there was a nagging worry: what if I came back with dull, lifeless work? I was on a tour and not in control of my schedule. I had to shoot when I could, not hold up the group, and still find time to be inspired and thoughtful. What if my work looked like everybody else's - the same old shots of a Latin America country?

I had three goals:

1. Make some Infrared images, which are difficult under the best circumstances. Infrared requires a tripod, long exposures and often many, many shots to get it right. I didn't have much time.

2. Capture images that would stand alone as fine art, and some that I could copy onto Polaroid film back in the studio.
3. Take typical touristy pictures for fun.

I knew I could make the images, but how could I make them uniquely mine? I think every artist goes into new projects with deafening self-doubt. What if all that other work is a fluke? What if I have to be in my "safety zone" to make art? What if I'm a fraud?

These worries are the curse of the artist who tries to put meaning and soul into every piece. The artist who makes "pretty pictures" has not a care in the world. He already knows what he's going to do. He's done it thousands of times before.

Three days into the trip I knew what I wanted to capture. There's a saying in Costa Rica that means "no worries." You hear it everywhere. Pura vida. The bus is broken down. Pura vida. We'll get it fixed. It's raining. Pura vida. But's not cold. The ice cream has melted. Pura vida. Now it's like a shake.

Pura vida. Literally, it means "pure life." That simple idea dismissed the fear of coming home with boring work. How could it be boring? I put my soul into it. Pura vida.

New work pictured:
Pura Vida #6, Infrared Photograph, ©2010 Jeane Vogel
Bailarina #1 (Little Dancer), Polaroid Painting, ©2010 Jeane Vogel

Art is Great, But Is it a Profession?

2010-01-13T09:39:00.005-06:00

I was supposed to be something important when I grew up... a constitutional lawyer, actually. That was my dad's plan for me. He starting educating me and grooming me for a career as a civil rights defender when I was about 10.

That's also about the time I drew the little mouse that I found on the ad on the back of a matchbook and sent it in to the correspondence art school.

Whoa! You should have heard the yelling when my dad was called by the school and asked to pay for the art lessons I had "qualified" for.

Art is great, but it's not a profession.

I didn't go to law school (was two weeks away when I came to my senses and just couldn't go). I never gave up art, but it took me many, many years to become a full-time studio artist.

Art is great, but it's not a profession. Or it's a profession for somebody else. Somebody with money ... or access to it. Lots of it.

Why is this still haunting me? Why does it permeate a lot of our thinking?

Why? Because we don't really value art in our culture. We certainly don't value artists.

A couple of weeks ago I was at a party talking to someone I didn't know. The room was filled with people who had committed their lives to improving the world. Some are nationally known for the causes they have championed.

This stranger turned to me: What do you do, she asked.

I felt myself getting sheepish. That's a new experience for me. But still, I was a little embarrassed.

I'm an artist.

Really? She was impressed and wanted to hear about all it.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm proud of my work, but at that moment, I felt intimidated by the power in the room. Lots of those people I knew well and they don't think I'm an idiot or unimportant. At least they don't say that to my face. Many of them collect my work.

So why did I react that way?

Because in a dozen ways, every day, we get this message: Art is frivolous. Art is a hobby. Art is not important. Art is not a profession.

Don't believe me? How much education funding has been cut from art departments in the last 30 years? How many schools have art education (or music or acting) as part of the core curriculum? Any? How many parents want their children to grow up to be artists?

Well, art is important, art is a profession, art is not frivolous. I can't do anything about art education and I can't change people's attitudes, but I can make art.

I can make art with an intention to keep it meaningful, expressive and thoughtful. I can strive for excellence in craftsmanship. I can be willing to talk about the inspiration behind the work.

Art is important. Artists are important. As a culture, let's try to value both.

Savannah Breeze, Polaroid Painting, ©2010 Jeane Vogel

Screw Up Your Courage & Get Your Work Out There

2009-12-30T12:27:00.005-06:00

Working artists, inspired artists, hungry artists produce a lot of work. Some of it is wonderful. Some of it is not.

How do we tell the difference?

I use a time-honored technique. I ask my husband, of course, and my daughter. They love everything. Even if they don't, they tell me they do. My ego gets stroked.

Sadly, that's where lots of artists stop. Amateur artists, even professionals, don't ask for real critiques. Maybe they don't want to know. Maybe they know and don't want to face it. Maybe they don't want to do the work to get better.

Maybe they are just afraid.

Submitting work to be judged against the work of others is a frightening prospect. The fear of rejection is a poison dart to creativity.

And the fear of rejection can be boiled down to one simple component: you don't like me! That's what we do to ourselves. Our work reflects ourselves. If you don't like my work, you must not like me. I'm worthless. I'm stupid. I'm bad.

Oh good grief! No wonder therapists have such full schedules.

SNAP OUT OF IT! It's not personal.

It's the work, not the person, that is liked or not. And art is subjective. The same work can receive multiple rejections and acceptances in the course of a year or two.

And when you think about it, it's not the rejection that's so difficult, but the fear of it. The thought that we MIGHT fail that stops us from submitting work to a juried exhibition or seeking out a new gallery.

What's the cure? It's simple. Just do it. Gather your best work, write the check and submit to a juried show. Do it again. And again. And again.

Talent, vision, execution -- these are all vital parts of being an artist. But they are worthless if you don't exhibit your work. And, unless you own your own gallery, you cannot exhibit your work without submitting it to the judgment of others. Art isn't a pretty picture -- it's communication. It has to been seen. It has to be discussed. It has to be examined.

Will you get rejected? I can almost guarantee it.

Will you get accepted? If it's good enough, yes.

Will you learn from the experience? If you're brave enough, you will.

Art Saves Lives -- Again

2009-12-05T08:45:00.003-06:00

I was in my 20s when I was thunderstruck with the idea that art saves lives.

It's not an original idea. It predates writing; probably predates languages. It's uniquely human.

And being uniquely human, art has an impact on every part of our lives. Every minute. Art saves lives.

I'm not talking about art therapy, which is important. I'm talking about ART. Creation. Imagination. Using materials at hand to communicate an idea so complex or personal or elegant, that common speech will fail.

This week I was privileged to be Artist-in-Residence at the national conference of the National Federation of Families for Children's Mental Health in Washington. I led a photo workshop for the Youth Track, teens and young adults who attended with their parents or alone. They are advocates for proper education and treatment for young people with mental illness. They work every day to remove the stigma of mental illness.

My job is simple. I introduce the materials. I suggest some techniques. I encourage them to think deeply about what they want to say in their finished piece. We have one day.

It's during the shooting phase of the workshop that I get to know them a bit. If the group isn't too big, I can work one-on-one, helping each get the kind of images they want. After the film is developed, the real creativity begins. The materials are basic: glue sticks, scissors, mat board, colored paper, tissue paper, whatever is at hand. They get one instruction: create your story.

Every time I do this workshop, I am blown away by the results. Without limitations, each artist creates something spectacular! I watched commentaries emerge: peace, how teens seem to have no control of their lives, living in shadows, dreaming of freedom. One artist used the actual film negatives to frame his work. It hurt me, an old film photographer, to see negatives damaged, but I got over it as I watched the power of the piece emerge.

We installed the work in a public place at the conference the next day. It would have taken me 5 minutes and no drama to install the work alone. I asked the group to do it instead. It took an hour. There was drama. The final installation, like many installations, was a work of art in itself. It was far better than I would have done.

Art saves lives. For this group, art inspires lives too.

Cleansing My Palate

2009-09-15T08:10:00.003-06:00

At least once a day, someone comes into my studio/gallery at Crestwood Court and marvels: "ALL this work is yours? You did all this?"

Well..., yes. But I didn't do it yesterday. I agree it's varied: hand-altered Polaroid photos, Infrared photos, mixed media pastel paintings, everday ceramics, silver jewelry, and most recently, votive candle scupltures from hand-made paper.

The work in my studio represents years of work. I work everyday. EVERYDAY. Hundreds of thousands of hours of work. The good art goes in the gallery or an art fair or, I hope, someone's home or office.

The bad work goes in the trash. My critics may disagree, but I am ruthless in examining my work. I toss a lot. A lot. One day, I'm worried someone will find the cache of rejects and marvel with distain: "YOU did all this?" Yuck. My reputation will be ruined!

I think one of the things that people are surprised about is the variety of work in the gallery. Many artists have one style, one body of work. They are known for it. That's what they do. It's successful. They stay the course.

I have a couple of bodies of work that I'm known for -- mostly notably hand-altered Polaroid photographs. I love that body of work. It continues to evolve and grow. As long as I can find film, I will work with medium.

Sometimes I have to break out of it, though. Ten years ago, frustrated that I couldn't thrown a clay pot, I took up ceramics. I love the mud. I'm not great, but it's a medium I can use when I need it. I've been heard to say that as a potter, I'm a very good photographer! But my berry bowls and ikaebonas are very popular and I'll be putting new items in the gallery this fall.

I'm working on a special new project that demanded hand-made paper. Sure, I could buy it, but it's so much more special if the papermaking is part of the completed piece of art. Most recently, I've picked up silversmithing. I'll make jewelry, sure, if just to feed my own habit. But I want to incorporate silver into mixed media pieces. So I have to learn it.

Most of us artists have visions far beyond our abilities or talent. If we're brave, we will try to give those visions life. The more and varied skills the artist has, the greater the chances that the vision will materialize in a vibrant piece of work.

Sometimes working with a different medium -- making paper or throwing a pot instead of making photographs, for example -- is like eating a light sherbet between two dinner courses with strong flavors. It's like cleansing the palate. Creating a different art form is a way of clearing out the creative dust and making room for new ideas.

Working with more than one medium broadens my artistic vision and keeps work fresh and exciting. That means constant learning and experimenting too.

So yes, all this work is mine. It's okay for an artist to do more than one thing, isn't it? It's okay for ALL of us to be more than one thing.

Looking at Old Work with New Eyes

2009-07-14T09:10:00.005-06:00

Photographers want instant gratification. Even as we used to toil for hours in a darkroom, we wanted to see our work right away. In the film days, if it took a day or more to process the five rolls of PlusX we just shot, it was much too long. We ran from the shoot to the darkroom. We wanted it NOW! And that was before the days of 1-hour photo kiosks!

That's probably why Polaroid, then digital, was embraced so quickly. Instant gratification.

Serious photographers shoot hundreds and thousands of images per month. We edit the images we shoot shortly after. We process and print the ones we like. We shoot some more. We move on.

Once in a while, I look back over old images. And every once in a while, looking at the old work with new eyes, I find exceptional work that I rejected. It's as if I've created new images!

In spring 2008, I started working on a series of introspective Infrared photographs I call Peace Luck Love. The Infrared heightens the mood of the work.

Last weekend, I decided to revisit the discarded images and process a few. I found four additional images in that series that once looked ordinary. With a bit of time behind them, the images popped at me.

Instant gratification ... all over again.

What Kind of Disgusting Person Does This?

2009-05-19T08:22:00.005-06:00

It's true: I'm not a great business person. I'm an artist. I don't want to trick or coerce someone into collecting my work or scheduling a wedding. I want my business model to be a partnership, to fulfill a need, to inspire a smile or a thought or a memory.

I try to be a strong businesswoman, but I'm not aggressive or impassive enough. I can't bring my self to justify any action with an "it's just business" attitude.

Sometimes I wonder where our business ethics have gone. I know most people are honest and hardworking. Some just aren't. Some are willing to toss people aside to get their buck.

When we see a gross violation of human decency in business, what should we do?

Here's the situation that has me so steamed: A photographer volunteers to be part of a group that offers infant bereavement photography for families.

I'm a volunteer for this group. We are professional photographers who volunteer to go to hospitals when a baby has died or has been stillborn. When we get a call, we drop what we're doing and race to the family's side. These may be the only images ever made for these families. The images are retouched and are quite beautiful and moving. We provide prints and CDs and DVD slide shows with music for the families. Each session is emotionally challenging and requires up to 15 hours of shooting, processing, retouching and creating the final presentation. It's a labor of love. Everything is provided free of charge.

Why do we do it? Because we can. We have a skill. The gratitude we get back from the families is priceless. It's a gift to a family that has suffered an indescribable loss. It's a way to mend a tiny tear in our broken world. We're not special. It's just what we do.

We certainly don't do it to get more business. That's sick and cynical.

Back to this new volunteer photographer. She works during the day for a company that has contracts with hospitals to photograph all the newborns. They photograph the babies -- flash, flash, here's your pics, give me your credit card. They are very aggressive with families and hospitals. They're making a lot of money. Fine. They aren't taking money away from me. I'm not a "hit and run" photographer.

This woman volunteers to be part of the infant bereavement group. Before she can go out on a session alone, she has to shadow a more experienced photographer to learn procedures, learn the best way to talk to families and handle the babies.

As soon as the two photographers get to the hospital, the new volunteer -- the one who works for that aggressive company -- pushes the other photographer aside, declares she's works for this other company and takes the pictures. The kicker: when she delivered the pictures the next day, she CHARGES THE FAMILY for the work!

Mind you, this is a family who's baby has just died. They were told they were getting beautiful fine art portraits that they could cherish. For free. Instead they get regular old snapshots and they have to pay for them. They pay. They want these photographs. Only later will they feel betrayed and abused.

What kind of disgusting human being does this? What kind of person poses as a volunteer to get her foot in the door to get more business? What kind of person pretend to care about people just to get their money?

This woman lied and cheated and stole - all in the course of 10 minutes -- for money?

To take money from a family with a dead baby? Seriously?

This behavior is worse than unethical -- it's repugnant. Is the economy that bad that we have to stoop to exploiting a family's grief to earn a living?

Do I know her name? You bet I do. We know who she is and we know what she did.

So I ask again. When we see a gross violation of human decency in business, what should we do?

(The infant bereavement organization is Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep. It's a great organization and worthy of support.)

How Long Did That Take to Make?

2009-04-28T08:46:00.005-06:00

Spring Break, Mixed Media Painting, 20x20, $335

I understand the question. "How long did that take to make?" Artists and craftspeople hear it all the time.

I remember the first time I asked it. My family was traveling in the southwest US and we stopped to visit Navajo tribal land. A woman displayed her handmade silver and turquoise jewelry on a colorful, woven blanket. My mother, who collected silver jewelry and was trying to avoid getting her ears pierced, was searching for clip on earnings.

I was 12 and didn't have much money. I was looking at the less expensive beaded necklaces.

I picked one up. "This is pretty," I said. "Did you make it?" She nodded. "How long did it take you to make it?" "Oh, a long time," she said.

My father took me aside. "You shouldn't ask that question," he said gently. "It took her a long time to learn how to do this. Maybe she learned from her mother or her aunt, who learned from their mothers and aunts. Her work isn't about hours of work, but her skill and talent."

I think I understood. A little. I understand a lot more, now.

Much of our work in this country is paid for by the hour. We value the TIME it takes to make something-- sometimes more than the skill and talent and education and heritage of the work. Oh sure, we appreciate those things, but often the value of the work comes down to the TIME required for creation.

I realize now that the beaded necklace might have only taken 15 minutes to make. If she had told me that, would the value had been diminished? Probably. I might have focused on the time the item took to make, instead of the value of the skill, the history, and the practiced hands that made it for me. I might have compared the price to the amount of time I had to work to earn that money.

When asked, some artists respond with their age: 'It took me 52 years to paint that. All my education and experience went into its creation."

It's a cute answer, but not satisfying. And it reinforces the idea that the value art or craft is measured in TIME. It's not. It's measured in emotion. It's measured in the viewer's connection to the work. It's measured in excellence.

As an artist, I don't punch a time clock. I have no idea how long it takes to create a particular piece. When asked, a try to give a quick answer: "Oh, I don't know. Sometimes hours, sometimes days. I don't pay attention. I work until it's done."

That generally satisfies. What the person is really asking is: "Please tell me more about this art." So I do.

I bought the necklace I found in the desert that day. I still have it. It's value has stood the test of time.

ArtSpace Grand Opening May 2

2009-04-06T08:00:00.011-06:00

Jeane Vogel Studios at ArtSpace in Crestwood Court

Part of the gallery, a mixed media painting in process, and studio front

It's taken me three months, but I'm finally happy with the way the new studio is feeling and working. Yes, I moved from a small 12x12 studio to one with more than a 1000 square feet, but the new space is already starting to feel a little small! It's it amazing how fast space can fill?

I was one of the first to sign a lease at the new ArtSpace in Crestwood Court, a dying suburban mall that is transforming into an art destination. Already, 65 artists, theatres, dance studios and arts groups are buzzing about -- creating, teaching, selling art. Still, this is temporary space. We will lose our leases when the mall redevelops in two or three years. For now, the space is glorious!

I'm not a Pollyanna, but there is something special happening here. First, a company -- Jones, Lang, LaSalle -- found a creative, cooperative solution to their dead retail space. Leasing Manager Leisa Son conceived the idea and her bosses, especially General Manager Tony Stephens, supported her. How cool is that?

JLL are putting money, energy, time and resources into creating a true art community where mall walkers now reign. The mall walkers will stay, I hope. But they will be joined by art patrons.

Our grand opening is May 2 from noon - 9. Family activities are scheduled from noon to 5. In the evening, the event shifts to an exhibit opening event.

The artists are stepping up too. Most of us know that there is no true competition in the art world -- except to strive toward excellence. Art is subjective. You like it or not. Since competing for sales is a little silly, we might as well cooperate. And that's what we're doing at ArtSpace.

A community is growing. It's going to be interesting to watch.

Burned Out Austrialian Artists Need Our Help

2009-03-25T14:43:00.000-06:00

Dear fellow & sister artists,

In February we all watched in horror while much of the Australian province of Victoria went up in flames. While that was horrible enough, it got worse: the town of Marysville, Victoria, is an artist's haven. Every gallery, studio, wooden sculpture garden, brush, canvas, oil, pen -- everything went up in flames. Hundreds of thousands of pieces of art and every art space is gone. All. Gone. In a blink of an eye. There was no time to save anything.

We have a chance to help. A sister artist, Wyn Vogel (no relation) and I have joined together to create ART - "Art Recovery Together" Wyn lives in Brisbane and has lots of contacts in Marysville. She has contacted the local art group, the Yarra Valley Arts Council (YVAC) to find out what artists need. They need EVERYTHING. The YVAC is helping us coordinate.

For three months, from April 1 to June 30, Wyn is turning over her website to collect art for sale, the proceeds will help buy art supplies, replace equipment, anything they need that helps artists start working again.

We need your help and your donations. The donating artist will email me with a jpg, sale amount, how much of sale amount will benefit ART, (at least 50% please!) and the estimated shipping cost (to US and to AU). We will put them on the web site and publicize the on-line event. If your piece sells, we will contact you with information on shipping. All family-friendly work is requested.

Basic info:

1. Jpg files should be about 900k
2. Send up to 5 views of each work. Fewer is better but send what you need to show the work
3. Include your name & contact information, website, size and medium of work
4. Short bio (no more than 3 normal sentences). You can include your picture.
5. Send all information to jeane@vogelpix.com

This project has been backed by the Regional Arts Council of St. Louis and by the Yarra Valley Arts Council in Australia. Both Wyn and I are putting our reputations behind it, for what that's worth. Wyn's work can be seen at http://www.wynvogel.com.

This has taken Wyn and me a couple of months (mostly Wyn!) to jump through hoops and get permissions to proceed. It's not too late! Thanks for any help you can give our fellow and sister artists who have lost everything -- including their art. Let's get them creating again.

Please send this to EVERYONE who can help. Feel free to contact me with any questions.
Thank you!

Buying Handmade

2009-03-23T09:07:00.005-06:00

I finally did it. I opened the Etsy shop.

If you don't know about Etsy, I encourage you to explore it. Etsy provides artists a venue to display and buyers to discover small hand-made treasures. Most of the work there is inexpensive, ranging from $10 - $100.

It's the place to go for a special gift. It's the place to go to support an artist. It's the place to go to buy hand-made.

I'm happy to see our culture returning to an appreciation of fine hand-made things. I've given hand-made gifts for years: note cards, pottery, knit scarves. Most people appreciated them -- some didn't. The ones who didn't thought I was being cheap. The ones who did loved that I spent time creating something just for them.

When I want a gift, I love buying finely crafted hand-made gifts. Of course, not all hand-made is created equal but the best hand-made

is fair trade. I'm buying from the artist or the artist's agent.
often is local. Not many resources are spent in shipping. Lots of the materials are local too.
supports a fellow artist. Lots of us support ourselves our families from the work of our hands. We appreciate our patrons.
preserves the craft and allow us a glimpse of other cultures and other peoples.
introduces me to the artist. There's something special about owning or giving a gift when there's a personal connection to the maker -- even if the connection is a short email or phone call.
reminds us of our values. Integrity of work, quality materials, customer service. No one's work is exploited in my studio. (Ask my intern. I think I'm fair. If not, I'll correct it!)
is special and comes from the love of the work. That shows in the items created.

Every other generation or so, as a people we return to our roots. We pick up the basket reeds and clay lumps amd charcoals and needles and begin to create for ourselves again. I'm sorry that sometimes it takes an economic downturn for us to reject all the over-packaged, grossly-advertised store-bought, but I'm glad we're getting there again.

Hand-made is special. Hand-made is holistic. Hand-made is sustainable.

You Know What You Should Do.....?

2009-03-16T07:44:00.003-06:00

Is there a connection between artists being told what to do and the banality of most art seen in public places in the US? Bear with me here.

The connection might be called Unsolicited Advice.

I seem to get it all the time. Strangers walk into my studio, look around. "You know what you should do..." Then it begins.

A fellow artist walks into my studio. "You know what you should be doing ...?" No, you do that. That suggestion has nothing to do with my work.

I'm not saying that I don't like input and advice. In fact, I often ask for it and get terrific responses. Sometimes I don't like the suggestion, but it might give me pause and force me to understand why I'm not heeding it. (As an aside, if I need my ego fed, I ask advice from my husband. He seems to think everything I do is wonderful. How cool is that?)

What I truly don't understand is why do people insist on telling me what I should be doing. Do I look incompetent? Do I seem confused or aimless? Did I ask for advice? Am I your student?

Unsolicited Advice. It makes you question your judgment, censor your thoughts, keep your work safe.

Or, are you telling me what art to produce because you don't like my work? Don't understand it? It's not what you expect? Ok. Tell me that instead.

A Buddhist friend tells me that I get so much unsolicited advice because I'm always giving it. Well, that should stop, shouldn't it? OK, I'll work on that, but there's something more.

Do we really want all art to look alike? Are we so narrow or limited or lazy or stupid that we have to be spoon fed only paintings of little girls holding a bouquet, or a sailboat on the sea, or a field of sunflowers. I've created art with all these things, but this is all we can do? Can't we create something that forces a viewer to spend more than 5 seconds with it before moving on?

Art should spark a conversation, link to another idea, inspire an action, even just solicit a smile. I'm not saying that every work produced has to be important or controversial or political. Our art should not just fade into the wall.

Take a look around at your bank, your hotel lobby, your dentist's office. Do you notice the art? If not, ask why it's there. I don't think we really want everything the same. We don't want to be told what we should be doing.

f8 & Be There

2009-03-09T08:03:00.006-06:00

Those of us who began studying photography in the dark ages (read: darkroom ages) had this adage drilled into us. f8 and be there!

It means that the photographers who get the "best" pictures are those who have their camera set on a medium aperture (f8) to compensate for focusing errors (no auto-focus in those days), and are there -- at the spot they are supposed to be.

What it really means is, "be prepared." There's also an element of luck involved. Now, I've was a Girl Scout until I was kicked out at 13 (another story) and I've been a GS leader for 8 years. I'm a mom. I know all about "be prepared" and the value of "luck!"

I started thinking about what "f8 and be there" could mean for all artists today. It struck me that "f8 and be there" is the old photographer's shorthand for daVinci's 7 Virtues of Life for Artists.

Note that DaVinci didn't call these the "virtues of artists" but the virtues of LIFE for artists. I think what he is telling us is that talented artists who do not live in the world, experience the world, interact the world, comment on the world and struggle to fix the world are artists who are wasting their talent on self-indulgence and ego.

I've had daVinci's 7 Virtues, with my interpretations, posted in my studio for years:

Curiosita -- an attitude of curiosity of continuous learning. It's the "what, when, where, why & how?" of living.

Dimostrazione -- an ability to learn and to test by knowledge by experience. Have an experimental nature.

Sensazione -- a development of awareness and refinement of sight and other senses. Be alert. Be aware. Use all the senses to experience the world.

Sfumato --think the way you paint. Overlay. Blend. Have a tendency to embrace and accept uncertainty, ambiguity and paradox. Be a free thinker.

Arte/Scienza -- a develop a balance between science and art, logic and imagination. Use the whole brain. Think. Create.

Corporalita -- have a calculated desire to achieve poise, fitness and ambidexterity. Be physical. Take action.

Connessione -- recognize that all things are connected. Life, art, politics, people, nature, commerce, faith.

Thanks, Leonardo.

Let's Bring Back the Patronage System

2009-03-02T07:32:00.003-06:00

Anyone who has been to Florence or Rome, or who stayed awake during the Art History class slide shows, has seen the splendor that was created during the height of Europe's golden age for artists. The 15th and 16th century in Europe was awash with money and princes and aggrandizement. The work was bold and new and demanded to be seen and discussed.

Ever wanting to best their peers, the elite hired hired artists, kept them on the payroll and commissioned grand work that still takes our breath away 500 years later. I haven't set foot inside the Medici Chapels since 1982, but given the chance I will gush on for 20 minutes about the detail and beauty and exquisite workmanship of the floor-to-ceiling mosaics.

It was an era of full employment for artists. Patrons paid, artists created.

Not that all was good, of course. Your patron had to like the work you created for him. Many a tortured artist was forced to produce pedestrian art to please the master. If not, you might be discharged -- permanently.

Diego Rivera experienced the pain of the displeased Patron in the '30s when Rockefeller destroyed the commissioned mural because it was too revolutionary. Rockefeller knew who Rivera was, right? Did he think that Diego would paint a mural of the benign industrialist? Or maybe dogs playing poker?

There are some who believe that we have a patron system in place right now: it's called the University. Artists teach and produce work. Some are no more satisfied with the new Patron system, than with the old. Though few art professors lose their heads if they get a negative review.

So here's my challenge. Let's bring back the Patronage system. Let's be active in seeking out matches for artists and collectors, companies and institutions. Let's be generous with our knowledge of each others' work. Let's encourage businesses to take down the anonymous, boring, beige mixed media abstracts and pretend-watercolors of sailboats, and replace them with work that will make people stop and look -- and want to come back to the business to look again.

The Patronage system filled 15th century Europe with beauty and majesty and work worth of comment. It's time we do the same in 2009 everywhere.

Phoning It In

2009-02-23T09:02:00.004-06:00

Everyone body does it once in a while: phones it in. Creation become mundane. Even work we love can become boring. Maybe I'm feeling sick. Maybe I'm feeling bored. Maybe I'm burnt out. Maybe I'm resentful of the work the client wants.

Maybe I'm just lazy.

I know that sounds harsh, but let's call it what it is. It hits all of us once in a while. We let it slide. It's good enough. We hope it doesn't show.

Of course it shows. All of us are judged by work. Our most recent work. There's truth in the old saying that we're only as good as our last effort. The old stuff might be great, the new stuff is lackluster, but nobody will notice because we're successful or well-known or ... whatever.

I recently read an interview that drove this point home to me. A local reporter, long relieved of duties by layoffs, produced a freelance piece for a small paper. I know this person and the writer is competent. The article I read was not. The questions were common, the writing was lazy. The reporter phoned it in. It was good enough. When I thought about it, I realized that everything I've read by this writer lately has been far below what we used to except. Maybe the writer thought no body will notice.

I think lots of people notice.

As soon as the thought "it's good enough" pops into my head, I know I have to resist the temptation to believe it. As soon as I realized I'm "phoning it in," I know it's time to look at why.

Why is it "just good enough?"

Is the concept not good enough? Start over.

Is the client not paying enough? Learn from that and restructure the pricing -- next time.

Do I think I'm not talented enough to deliver the work I imagined or promised? Try it again. "I can't" generally means "This us too hard. I don't want to try."

Am I bored? Too bad. Do it anyway.

We all can't be the best, but there's no excuse for laziness. There's no excuse for phoning it in.

Game Series

2009-02-09T09:46:00.005-06:00

Photographers aren't taken seriously as artists by many people.

My work often doesn't look like photography, so patrons confide in me: "I don't really like photography. Any body can take a picture." Sometime they add, trying to be complimentary: "But YOUR work. That's art. You really had to do something."

I don't like pitting my work against other photographers or artists. I'd rather try to broaden the patron's view of art to include traditional photography.

It's true, anyone can take a photo. Seems that everyone does. An artist, though, creates a comprehensive body of work. An artist creates a distinctive style and captures his or her vision on film or sensor. An artist communicates. One or six nice pictures does not an artist make.

That being said, I like to push my medium a bit beyond the obvious. Most people think that photography captures a moment in time. I disagree. A snapshot captures a moment in time. A photograph captures a mood or emotion. It tells a story. It evokes a memory. It provokes a discussion. The moment in time is almost irrelevant.

I am especially fond of photographic processes that expose a part of our world that we cannot see with out eyes. I want to produce work that asks for a relationship -- demands a few minutes of your time and maybe even gives you something new every time you approach it.

My newest work -- the Game Series -- combines both goals. The set-ups take a long time, so I'm shooting each one in hand-altered Polaroid and in infrared. I'm delighted by how different each is, even with the same subject matter.

Does the Games Series demand your time and give you something new? You tell me.

George Bailey, meet Darwin

2009-02-02T09:07:00.007-06:00

"Potter's not selling. He's buying! And why? Because we're panicking and he's not."
George Bailey, It's A Wonderful Life

A room full of scared people trying to get their money out of a rickety, broken down, old Savings & Loan before all hell breaks loose. That's the image that comes to mind as I prepare for Art Fair Season --2009.

Imagine the room filled with art fair artists. Imagine we've lost faith in ourselves and we fearful of what we face in the next months as we travel to fairs, set up displays and desperately, hopefully look to each person who comes by.

There's a different feeling this year, isn't there? The last couple of years have been rough sometimes, and that was before the bottom dropped out of everything.

As bad as things are for some people -- and I truly believe that we have to do everything we can to help each other -- it's not bad for everyone. Sure, the media is hyping us in to a disaster frenzy, but let's put things in perspective: There's always a market for good art.

As I head into this new season, there are a couple of things I'm going to keep in the front of my head:

I refuse to go into "survival" mode. I will continue to be confident in the quality of my work.
I will not cut corners with my materials. I might cut costs, but not quality.
I paid attention in high school biology class. The fit survive. The weak won't. I will be fit.
I will not slash my prices. I will not give my work away.
I will not be greedy. When other artists sell, it's a good sign for all of us.
I will be gentle but firm with hobbyists who are selling their work for nothing: undercut me if you want, but I do not consider you a peer. If you want to be treated like a professional, a colleague, you must act like one.
I will not grouse about poor sales. Negative energy brings everyone down!
I will focus even more on customer service.
I will continue my practice to send a personal thank you note to every person who shares their address.
I will continue to resist the temptation to copy the style of a more successful artist.

Will this be an easy season or a challenging one? Who knows? Not every artist will have the same experience. I've had terrific shows when my neighbor didn't make expenses. This year, we have to use all the skills we have.

Being a working artist is a lesson in Darwinism: The strong survive. The survivors adapt. The ranks thin and produce better offspring. In our case, our offspring is better art.

I'm not prone to "Pollyanna-ish" sentiment, but I think we have a great opportunity this year. My plan? I'm focusing on my core values: quality, integrity, attitude, graditude.

No Shortcuts to the Artist's Life

2009-01-26T09:11:00.004-06:00

George Clooney is coming to town. More than 4000 people filled the shopping-mall-turned-art community this weekend, hoping to be cast as one of the extras in his new movie, to be filmed in St. Louis. My studio is in the old mall, and I got to watch the spectacle.

Since the casting call would bring so many people to this new art space, we were asked to have our studios open. I complied. And spent the day bursting dreams.

Well, I probably didn't, but that's what it felt like.

First, let me say that I am a believer in sharing information and encouraging people. There are so many people who helped me -- are STILL helping me -- and I want to return the favor.

What I cannot do is give someone a short cut. Sometimes folks don't want to hear the truth.

There were no fewer than two dozen young people -- under 30 -- who walked into my studio on Saturday and wanted a job, wanted an intership, wanted to know the secret of success, wanted to know why they couldn't sell their art, wanted to know --- well, you get the idea.

Don't be mistaken -- I'm not a art guru and I certainly don't look like I know the secrets of life. I was just there -- and apparently approachable. I was certainly happy to stop what I was doing to talk to them.

I was shocked by a number of things:

Not one of these people was prepared with any information about themselves. A couple seemed put off when I suggested that they email me their resume and samples of their work.
There was a lot of negativity in their attitudes: it's hard to break in, I don't have any money, no one will give me a chance. Did they mistake me for their mother or their girlfriend?
They really didn't want to hear my answers.
They wanted quick fixes.

I know times are tough. I haven't forgotten that when you're young and starting out, times are always tough. And I might be wrong, but I got the distinct impression that most of these people were used to be given what they wanted... until now.

Here's what I told each one of them:

There is no quick way to life as an artist. You have to work at it. All the time.
Get the education you can afford. Learn from everyone. Learn from everything.
Teach what you know.
Be willing to take chances.
Show only your BEST work.
Enter your best work in juried exhibits. Find out if you're really as good as you think you are.
Don't be afraid of competition. There's always somebody who's better than you. Learn from them.
Achieve the excellence you admire.
You might not be able to have everything right now. There are decisions to make: cable or art supplies?
Don't copy somebody's else's work or style. Find your own vision. Find your own voice.
Come to grips with the fact that you might have to support yourself with other work while your art evolves.
Don't assume you the world owes you any recognition. There are LOTS of talented people out there.
Be responsible for your own success.
Be grateful to people who help you.
Be generous to people who need your help.
It's ok to complain and gripe about how hard this is. My friends hear it from me all the time. But stop it there-- with friends. That's what they're for! To the rest of the world, show your confidence, and your willingness to work hard and take risks.
Failure looks like failure. Success looks like success.

There are no short cuts to a successful artist's life. There are no short cuts to any successful life.

The Muse of Change

2009-01-19T21:53:00.007-06:00

In classical Greek mythology, there are nine Muses -- the sisters of creation.

Artists, especially women artists, are part of the larger sisterhood that is guided by these Muses.

There is no identified Muse of Change or Muse of Hope or Muse of Promise, but those women visited me in the studio. Not surprisingly, they came during the rebroadcast of Martin Luther King's speech at the March on Washington in 1963. I'm old enough to remember it. I'm old enough to believe in it.

I was working on a new series of "game" images. Games are important in our lives. Children learn from playing games. Adults work out frustrations or find new solutions to problems from games. Like art, games might seem frivolous, but are vitally important to our mental health.

As I was working on setting up the first image I planned, the Muses took over. Just so I could have some control, I decided to shoot in Infrared --spectrum of light the eye cannot see -- and hand-altered Polaroid.

The set-ups are similar, but the messages are different.

The hand-altered Polaroid uses the new film, which has very different qualities from the old but is still wonderful. The color balance is skewed a bit, but I can make it work. The dark lines on the image represent the barriers to success -- we are not naive to the difficulty of what needs to be done.

The second image is an Infrared photograph. In this image you can see the unplayed tiles. What will happen next? Those tiles are in darkness. We don't know what comes next, but we have hope and power. The edges of the tiles are lighted brightly. There are possibilities here.

We never know when the Muses will visit. All we can do is listen. And respond. And create.

No more excuses. Let's get to work.

Teach Me, Don't Sell Me

2009-01-16T07:46:00.003-06:00

In the business world, this is classic marketing advice: get bodies in the workshop seats by promising to reveal the secret of quick bucks, mete out just enough information to entice your mark, er listener, then close the deal with the sale: "Everything you need to know -- and more! -- is in my book/DVD/day-long retreat. Only $199. But wait! There's more!"

It's come to the art world in the last few years in the form of tele-seminars and workshops. And it's giving all of us a bad name.

I know I don't know everything-- in fact I hardly know anything at all. When it comes to art, I know where to get my instruction. When it comes to the business of art, I'm struggling.

Daily I get three or four reminders to sign up for workshops or webinars or teleconferences that will "jump start my art," "connect to the best galleries" or teach me the "secret of selling to the best collectors." This year the hook is "how to survive a recession."

Yeah, yeah.

Every once in a while, I bite. I'm still annoyed by an hour I wasted this week on a "preview webinar." The idea, of course, is to give the listener a taste of the full session and hope I'll pay for the full thing scheduled for a few days later. Apparently a lot did. I cannot imagine why.

First, I cannot stand "perky." The marketer of this session interrupted every few minutes to make her pitch. And she was WAY too perky. I'm sure somebody coached her to sound that way. It sounded fake and disingenuous.

But the part the really repelled me was the way the hour-long webinar was handled. THERE WAS NO INFORMATION GIVEN! Nothing. Oh sure, there were little tidbits tossed out, but those nuggets were followed by: "I really don't have time to explain it all here, but I'll get into depth on Tuesday night." I looked at my watch. We have 45 minutes left! So what she was really saying was "You're not paying for this so I'm not telling you."

Instead of enticing me, I came away doubting whether this person really did have something useful to share. Honestly, I expected her next sentence to be: "This little bottle of Dr. Brown's Elixir will ignite your muse, clear your desk clutter, wash your studio floor and finish your taxes. Why, I even knew one little lady who sold paintings to five major Chelsea galleries after one little sip!"

Yep, I felt like I had spent an hour with a snake oil salesman.

I'm not saying that all of these mass seminars are bad, but if someone is selling something at the end, the build up better be useful and practical.

Lots of artists teach. I do. I love teaching -- not as much as creating art, but teachers learn so much from the act of sharing. Every time I lead a workshop or class, even if it's to 5 year olds, I come away with a new understanding of my medium -- and more ideas for new work.

Sharing our knowledge with each other doesn't diminish us -- it enriches us. We don't have to share it for free -- my workshops cost money too -- but we don't have to sell something at the end, do we?

Teach me. Stop selling me stuff.

Peace Corps for Artists?

2009-01-01T10:27:00.003-06:00

There's been some buzz that President-Elect Obama wants to establish an Art Corps -- sort of a Peace Corps for the arts within the United States.

The idea is a great one -- but with a huge flaw that perpetuates the idea that artists don't need to make a living.

I get ahead of myself.

The Art Corps doesn't exist yet, but there's talk that visual and performing artists would be recruited to volunteer their time in schools and communities to fill the gaps left when arts are eliminated from budgets because of funding emergencies. Now certainly is the time for that. From what I've seen first-hand, arts education in our schools is just awful. It seems that too many teachers are uninspired, overwhelmed, or don't care anymore. And why should they care? There's no money, and art and music are considered "electives" -- fun courses. They don't really mean anything, do they?

Some arts teachers are bad artists themselves, or don't bother to continue to work on their craft. I'm still seething over a teacher my daughter had who "corrected" the students' sculptures if she didn't like some of the elements! That's appalling! The students went home defeated, not accomplished.

We need more art and music -- from working visual and performing artists -- in our schools and communities at all levels. In fact, I would be first in line to sign up.

So where's the flaw in this plan? Asking artists and musicians to volunteer -- again -- continues the myth that art is not a worthy profession, able to sustain a family. There was an opinion poll released recently that suggested that 90 percent of people polled supported art and wanted art in their lives, but only about 10 percent of those people valued artists -- they thought art was not a valued profession. In other words, they wanted the result but not the people that create it.

Huh?

Art isn't something artists do in their spare time -- or it shouldn't be. Art isn't frivolous. It's a driving passion. Art and music add to the quality of our lives. Art enriches, inspires, entertains, bemuses and makes us think. Art makes us grow. Art saves lives.

Then why delegate it to spare time, trust-funders or people who are supported by a spouse with a good job? Why do we assume that artists should be "starving?" Artists are asked to volunteer our time and energy and talent -- and the fruits of those efforts -- a lot! And we do -- a lot.

I've worked in schools, hospitals and community settings for little or no money. I've seen children and adults discover the joy of creation, and revel in accomplish they didn't know was possible. I watched students surprise their teachers with work that the teachers thought was impossible from these " bad kids." I've seen very sick kids smile with pride, forgetting their pain for a moment.

Art saves lives. It's not frivolous. In a school, it's as important as math. In a hospital, it's as vital as the right treatment. In our community, it's as useful as good streets.

I think the Art Corps is a great idea. But while we're at it, let's remember validate the work of the volunteers who will be going into the schools and communities. Let's add those artists' works to our public collections, commission visual and performing work from them that we pay for, and elevate their status in our communities.

Working visual and performing artists are vital contributors to our humanity. Let's treat them like we believe it.

Night Light

2008-12-21T13:41:00.005-06:00

Cibachrome print

There is something special about night light. It changes with the seasons. Cloud cover, moon phase, even air temperature can change the quality of the light after sunset.

Shooting at night means long exposures. I hate setting up the tripod, calculating the exposure, adjusting the tripod and camera to get the right composition, re-calculating the exposure because this process has taken so long that the light has changed and I have to start over. Ugh. It's not very magical.

I love the results, though. Anything that is moving during a long exposure takes on quality that the eye cannot see. Water become silky. People or leaves or animals moving look ghostly and other-worldly. Light sneaks in from places you didn't think was possible.

I cringe when I hear people say that photography captures of moment in time. It doesn't. And long-exposures prove it. Photography captures an essence of the moment. A feeling. Often, it captures life that simply cannot be seen.

Today is the Winter Solstice and tonight is the first night of Hanukkah. Both events are about the value and wonder of night light. It's interesting that they coincide this year. I don't remember that happening before, though I'm sure it has -- sometime.

The Winter Solstice marks the shortest day of daylight -- and the longest of night light.

Hanukkah comes every year when the sky is darkest. Our candles burst through the night light and beckon back the day light.

It's a time of wondrous light.

Film vs. Digital

2008-12-16T07:44:00.007-06:00

Summer Storm on the Current River,

I got a shipment of Polaroid sepia film yesterday. It's rare and when I found it, I jumped at the chance to use it again. I have no idea what I will do with it or where it will take me. It will wait until it knows what it wants to be.

I also found some 120 medium format Infrared film. That's even rarer. Grabbed that too. I absolutely know what I'm going to do with that.

I'm a little sick of the arguing, but is there really a difference between film and digital? Most people can't tell the difference in the final product unless the photographer over-saturates the colors or over-sharpens the image. Why do they do that? It's awful!

But a talented photographer, one who has mastered both film and digital, and works everyday to master it just a little more -- the images from that artist don't show the materials or the equipment. You just see the art.

"Purists" claim they can see the difference. Sometimes, just for fun, I challenge them. They can't tell the difference, not if the image is processed properly. It's arrogance and a sense of nostalgia that drives their purism, I think. These are the "my camera can beat up your camera" folks who think that best camera and the best lens and the best technique and the best Photoshop plug-in will create their perfect image. Or they tell me that film is just superior and nothing will replace it. Are they trying to hang on to the "good old days?" Do they think that their brand of photography is best? Don't they realize that film was dismissed as "not pure photography" when it replaced coated glass plates?

We say it all the time. It's not the equipment. It's the vision. I'll say this out loud too: I am very tired of self-proclaimed purists' superior attitude about film. You can drag around a 100-pound view camera and process your own film, but you can still take bad pictures.

So if film and digital are the same, why not just dump film? It's expensive. It's time consuming. It's not very "green."

Ah, but it's not the same. The results might look the same under a practiced hand, but part of the creation is the creating.

I want to use everything. Sometimes I use film. Sometimes I use digital. Sometimes I use Polaroid. Sometimes I shoot in black & white and hand-color it. Sometimes I shoot in color and convert to BW.

The point is, it's all good. Can we stop arguing about it now?

It's Baaaaaaack!

2008-12-08T08:16:00.004-06:00

Polaroid Film. It's back!

I don't know for how long and I don't know how good it is, but a company in Austria is making it again for artists. Small batches. Hand crafted.

Oh, yippee!!!!!

For those who don't know, here's the backstory:

In the late '60s and early '70s, Polaroid made this terrific film, SX-70, for instant cameras. You took a picture and watched it develop. It was all the rage at my boy-girl parties in high school. I understand adults at the time liked it too!

It had a flaw, though. Touch the film too harshly before it hardened -- about two hours -- and you got nasty black marks. It didn't take artists long to figure out that the soft emulsion could create some wonderfully impressionist results.

Polaroid changed the film and got rid of the flaw. We artists begged them to bring back the old version. They did. They they went belly up. Twice.

In December 2005 they stopped production forever, four full months BEFORE they said they would. Last June, all Polaroid film went away.

As my stash of film dwindled, my collectors bemoaned the loss. Surely someone will start making it again, they said. We hoped.

If not, I guess this work will go up in value! We hoped again.

Truly, I wanted the film back. Some artists have tried to reproduce the results in Photoshop, but it's not the same organic, fluid results you get from this film.

So when the film's return was announced, I ordered some. Got some sepia film in another Polaroid format too. If the film has good qualities, I will produce new work. And start teaching it again.

Oh, oh, oh -- the possibilities!

We Have to Fix This

2008-12-01T08:08:00.003-06:00

I know I'm not the only one who was sick to learn of the death at Walmart on Long Island when the doors opened at 5 a.m. and frenzied shoppers trampled a man to death so they could get $9 CDs and $700 plasma TVs.

I know I'm not the only one who was disgusted to hear that some of the shoppers groused about the store closing because of the death and kept shopping anyway.

I know I'm not the only one who tired of being told that I'm a Scrooge if I don't buy the best and newest for everyone I know.

Who sucked the joy out of giving?

I'm not "silver lining in every cloud" kind of person, but I do see an opportunity when it hits me upside the head with a two-by-four. This economic downturn is trying to tell us something: stop buying crap you don't need for people you don't like! Stop doing it, whether or not you have money in your pocket.

I don't mean that I think it's a good idea that people are losing jobs and homes. That we have to stop. Today. But I do mean that sometimes we need a reminder that shopping frenzies are not worth dying for. Or killing for. And we don't have to listen to the marketers every minute.

The typical response to this buying free-for-all is "make your own gifts!"

That's great advice for those of us who can. Not everyone wants to. Or is good at it. Oh sure, everyone can bake a plate of cookies, but that gets old too.

There is another answer. Buy local. Buy free trade. Buy from independent artists and crafters. Whether on-line halfway around the world or in your neighborhood, there are artists who have the perfect gift for someone special. Please support them.

Let's put the joy back in giving. Give something unique. Give something special. Give something made with a human touch.

We can fix this.

Gratitude

2008-11-24T08:33:00.004-06:00

This is the week for blogs and articles and broadcasts about how grateful we are - or should be.

Ok, I'll add mine.

I'm grateful for people who want art in their lives.

Does that sound self-serving? I don't mean it that way. Sure, I like making a living and I'm very grateful to be able to feed my kids and pay the mortgage every month (mostly) with money generated from my work. But that's not what I mean.

I'm grateful that people want art in their lives because that means they are willing to think. To be challenged. To see beauty in raw materials. To invest in something so original that they might look at it differently every time they see it.

It means they want more from life. That's a world I want to live in.

Pushed

2008-11-17T08:43:00.004-06:00

Lots of serious amateur photographers tell me they would NEVER take pictures for a living because they love photography so much that they don't want to turn it into a job -- into a chore. They pity me for my labors.

I ask: do you love your day job as much as photography? No! They love photography more. It's more gratifying and satisfying.

I know what they are trying to say: it's a hobby, it's fun, it's a diversion. They don't want to push beyond the fun.

Ok. Although I can't imagine doing work I don't adore, they are right. It is work! Whether I'm shooting a corporate headquarters or a family portrait, it's work. When I'm painting, it's work. Eking out a living as a working photographer and studio artist is a challenge, no doubt. And worth every minute.

The serious amateurs are right about one thing, though: generally I don't shoot for fun. The shooting has a purpose. Whether for art or commerce, it's work! I don't make the time for the fun. Unless I'm pushed.

This weekend I shot for fun. Dear friends Hildy and Dimitri were swinging through town on their three-month tour of the US giving workshops and consultations about how to revive our communities and fix the world. You HAVE to read about them and learn about their amazing work with nonprofits. Both are serious amateur photographers and wanted to get out into the city and shoot.

The day was cold and gray but, hey! Let's go! The first stop was Tower Grove Park in St. Louis, a mid-1800s Victorian park that is too beautiful to describe. The trees were past peak, but I looked down and focused on this green leaf among the red and yellow. Until I processed it, I didn't even SEE the purple one! I didn't enhance this image (except for the painted frame). This is what was there.

I would never have seen it unless I had been pushed.

2008-11-10T07:54:00.003-06:00

I'm going to be listening to Miriam Makeba all day today.

She collapsed and died last night after a concert in Italy to help a journalist who had been receiving death threats for reporting on organized crime. At 76, she was still singing and inspiring and working for change.

World activists sat up and listened when she addressed the UN in 1963 to call for an end to Apartheid in her native South Africa. She lived in exile for 31 years --banned from going home because she spoke the truth.

A human rights activists, singer/songwriter, inspiration.

Miriam Makeba was a living example of how art saves lives. She will be missed.

End of the Season

2008-11-06T09:11:00.004-06:00

The country and I wrapped up two seasons this week. The connections between them gave me pause and even made me well up a couple of times.

I finished my part of the 2008 art fair season in Memphis this week. Minute by minute, we were getting closer to electing Barack Obama president. It was almost too much.

My booth was two blocks away from the Lorraine Motel, where Martin Luther King, Jr., was killed in 1968. I was in 7th grade. It was a profound moment in a new adolescence. It seemed that my world was falling apart. Lots of other people's worlds certainly were.

My parents did not tolerate bigotry around them. My mom was 19 when she was arrested in Mississippi for collecting money from people on the bus she was riding to visit her new husband in basic training. The people on the bus were black and not allowed to go the restaurant where the bus stopped for dinner. She thought that was stupid and she did something about it. She had annoyed the bus driver a couple of hours before by not moving from her favorite spot in the back of the bus to the front when they entered Arkansas. The food was the last straw -- the bus driver turned her in.

This was the woman who literally threw my head under the bathroom faucet and jammed a bar of soap in my mouth when a yelled a horrible expletive at a black woman walking in front of my house. I picked the word up from my grandpa, apparently. It was something they fought about all the time. I think I was four or five at the time. I didn't know what the word meant, but I knew I would never utter it again.

I was thinking about how all those life experiences have shaped my life and my art -- and what it meant to be exhibiting my art on the street in Memphis last weekend. My phone was busy with almost minute-by-minute Twitter updates on the election from NPR and BBC. I was a little tense!

The Memphis art public is knowledgeable and generous. They were buying this weekend. Thank you, Memphis, for seeing past the fear of the day and wanting art in your homes and offices.

I think the people I met this weekend were excited for the possibilities to come. There is so much work to be done and one election doesn't fix anything. But it's a start and I'm glad I was in Memphis last weekend. A lot has been written over the last couple of days about the realization of Dr. King's dream.

Maybe. My 7th grade daughter doesn't really understand why a whole room of white people screamed and cried at 10 p.m. Tuesday night. We knew it could happen -- we desperately wanted it to happen, but we weren't really sure that white America would really put a black man in the White House.

A little bit of healing has begun. A lot of work awaits us.

I'm ready.

Exhibition XXIV - Art St. Louis

2008-10-30T08:01:00.006-06:00

Juried into Art St. Louis' Exhibition XXIV, Nov. 3-Dec. 30, 2008

Often an inspiring artist comes into my booth and wants advice about how to get started. I'm happy to share any information I've acquired but most of them really don't want to hear it.

They want shortcuts.

They're aren't any.

There's one thing I always suggest and not one young artist has thought it's a good idea: submit your work to juried exhibitions. A lot. Find out what's passes the juror's test. Dare to have your work compared to the best artists out there.

Entering a juried exhibition takes courage. You have no idea what the juror is looking for. You don't how what else has been submitted. You don't know how many works will be submitted and how few can be accepted.

Exhibitions teaches an artist to develop a self-critical eye. My husband tells me everything I do is great. We all need supportive, encouraging people around us, but they can't tell us if our work is good. Blind jurying can.

Rejection can be the hardest part of the jurying process. Nobody likes to be rejected, but artists don't know if their work has been rejected because the work was bad, that particular juror didn't like it, it didn't fit the juror's vision for the show, it didn't work with the other pieces already selected or there were too many good pieces to fit and choices had to be made.

The rejection is important though. When a piece of mine is rejected from a show, I have to look more critically at the work. Were there flaws that could be corrected? Did I misinterpret the theme?

Of course, acceptance is much better! Fewer than 1 in 10 of the works submitted to the Art St. Louis Exhibition XXIV were accepted. I was delighted that "Windswept, #1" an Infrared photograph, was among the accepted works for ASL major annual exhibit.

Submitting work to juried exhibitions is time-consuming, costly and exhausting. And it's the best way I know to push my work forward.

Routine

2008-10-27T06:45:00.003-06:00

I think the worst advice I ever got was "Stick to a Routine."

It goes like this: Develop a good work routine. Make your routine part of your life. You won't have to think about it. Exercise. Be at your desk. Perform your hated tasks first. Take your vitamins. Drink your milk. Read the paper.

Your routine will become so natural that the creativity will just leak out of your ears.

Oh, wait. That last part wasn't supposed to happen. But it does. Every time.

A routine is comfortable. It's dependable. It's mind-numbing.

It will make your my brain stop. Cold. That's the whole point of a routine. Do something often enough, in the same order, over and over. It's a part of you. You don't think about it. You don't THINK!

I'm not saying all routines are bad. It's probably a good idea to set a bill paying routine, for example. But most of the time, a routine will stop me from trying something new.

A routine starts with: "I will do it this way." It eventually turns into "We've always done it this way."

See? Creativity leaked right out.

So here's the new advice: at least once a week, try something new or unexpected.

But don't make it routine.

Discipline

2008-10-20T07:43:00.003-06:00

I'm the bad mom this morning. Last night, our 7th grader went to her first concert. She went with a friend and a friend's dad. She met the band members, got them to sign her Ipod and tickets and even exchanged a penny for a personalized guitar pick! She rocked out for four hours.

She had achieved nirvana!

The downside was that went didn't know it was a school night when we agreed to the concert. The deal was that she would have to go to school the next morning -- no excuses. (Apparently her friend gets to sleep in.)

Of course this morning I heard: "I'm sick." "My throat hurts." "I'm just going to the nurse and come back home."

Fine. But you are going to school. This is as good a time as any to learn that there are some days you have to do what you don't want to -- even if you feel sick. You just have to do them. And you have to be cheerful about it.

I feel that way in the studio a lot!

It takes discipline to work on something because the deadline looms. It takes discipline to finish a commission you didn't want to do - but you needed mortgage money. It takes discipline to start new bodies of work, strike out in new directions -- especially when there are no guarantees of success.

It takes discipline to finish the boring stuff before we can get to the fun stuff.

I have a few of those projects hanging over me right now. Guess it's time to get to work.

A New Patron

2008-10-13T11:09:00.004-06:00

20x20, $250 framed

I was at the Highland art fair this weekend. Highland is a sweet rural Swiss town in Illinois about 25 minutes from St. Louis. It's not a huge fair, but it's fun and local and I generally do OK there.

To be honest, there weren't lots of sales this weekend. People are a little scared and holding their wallets tight. For some, art is a luxury. For others, art is life saving and feeds their souls.

For still others, the art journey is just beginning.

Like many fairs, the Highland fair has a children's section where kids can purchase art for $5. Artists at the fair contribute work and children can shop on their own and begin their art collection. It's a great idea and I always contribute two or three pieces. The art we donate is worth far more than the $5, but it's priceless in the hands of a child.

About an hour before the show closed on Sunday, a young boy --maybe a 3rd grader -- approached me with one my images, Living Bouquet in his hands. He had just bought it and it wanted to meet the artist.

His parents, obviously proud of him, stood a short distance away. He chose a rather sophisticated piece for a child and he wanted to tell me what it meant to him: it's peaceful, he said.

Wow! My work is inspired by the Impressionists and evokes a lot of emotions and interpretations. Most adults don't understand modern Impressionism, but kids view art with their heart and souls -- not their heads. They don't care if someone else thinks the work is "important" or "vital." If they respond to it, it works for them. If not, they move on.

I removed the work from the plastic and inscribed the back for him. He left as if he had met a rock star. He made my day.

It was my best sale of the day. And I didn't make a dime from it.

When Art and Values Clash

2008-09-29T06:34:00.009-06:00

24x30, $325 matted

It was bound to happen. I meet a lot of people at art fairs and we basically have one thing in common: we both like my art! Or I like my art and they are being polite. Doesn't matter. We're just strangers to each other, finding something in common.

Sometimes a reaction to my work will be strong and a patron will share some very personal information, as if I were a girlfriend or a confidant. Like the woman who's husband was deployed to Iraq and they were both on my website and liked the same piece. She found me and bought it. It made them feel closer, and safer. Wow!

Or the little girl who almost sobbed as she clutched one of my images, it so reminded her of her beloved home, now 1000 miles away. (Her mom got it for her.)

When a piece of art is the centerpiece of the conversation, people can feel close quickly.

It's a nice feeling. A personal connection, a sharing of intent, a common purpose.

Then suddenly, I'm pulled up short.

A collector of mine, someone who has purchased many large pieces for herself, as gifts, even commissioned a special work -- sent me some rather disturbing political materials recently.

Really? You believe that?, I thought. I guess she thought I did too.

Most artists I know are politically liberal. Some more, some less. I'm not ashamed to say I fit into the "more" camp. I try not to to talk politics at an art fair or exhibit, but it's burned into my DNA. If someone makes a comment, I'll engage them - in the most polite, civil way I know of if we disagree; enthusiastically if we're of the same mind.

But what does it mean if someone, a collector, is so drawn to my work but we're poles apart on major issues that affect our lives?

It truly jarred me at first. Oh no, I thought, I really like you! You have my work in your home! How could you think THAT!

Then the flash of the moment passed. We had found something in common. The art. It's not much, but it's a start. Part of my values, through my work, were finding a kindred voice. In this contentious climate, where disagreement too often means that the opponent will be demonized, attacked unfairly and lied about, I'll take what common ground I can find.

Maybe it's another example of how art can heal the world.

Redesign!

2008-09-25T08:07:00.003-06:00

In August 2001, I opened my first art website. Since then, I've added, subtracted and tried to tweak it.

Mostly I ended up with a mess. I knew I had to start from scratch.

I finished that daunting task this morning. WHOOHOO! Ok, well "finished" is not quite right. There are tons of things I need to change and fix -- not the least of which is adding a real shopping cart. But I'm getting there!

Please click around and tell me what you think. Comments are always welcome! I want the site to be easy and friendly. Tell me if it's not.

Stuff That Art is Made Of

2008-09-23T07:21:00.003-06:00

"Maple Leaf," public domain, artist unknown

I found this leaf on my walk yesterday. First fallen leaf of fall.

Taking time to see the remarkable amidst the familiar: This is the stuff that art is made of.

Don't Be Afraid of Art

2008-09-17T15:45:00.007-06:00

Rhymes With Orange, (c) Hilary Price,

Used with Permission of the Artist

When I laugh out loud at the funnies, it's often at Rhymes With Orange (I've been know to cry at Funky Winkerbean and For Better and For Worse too.) Hannah, my 12-going-on-24-year-old, rolls her eyes. What is so funny NOW, Mom?

I admit to be being a huge RWO fan. In five to 10 words and a cartoon drawing Hilary Price nails the idiosyncrasies of relationships, mothers, food, cats (and the people they chose to tolerate), dogs (and the people they live for), God, politics -- you name it!

This one, The Working Artist, hit home. There's a sad little joke among artists: if you want the perfect picture -- the one that people will knock down your doors to get -- just paint a clown holding a bouquet of flowers, standing in front of a barn. Why? Because those are the safest images that everyone seems to want.

They're pretty. They're universal. They won't cause a fuss.

Ok, maybe it's the tanking economy or the rampant government corruption or the notion that it's OK to lie if we say it often enough and don't back down -- but I'm ready to cause a fuss!

"Safe" art isn't getting us anywhere. "Safe" art matches your sofa and picks up the colors of the accent pieces in a room. "Real" art matches your soul. "Real" art takes you beyond yourself. It can be pretty too, but it will won't let you just glance at it without demanding something back.

What does that have to doing with "making a fuss?" Art is life. Period. If we need "safe" art around us, it stands to reason that we might be afraid of what's out there. We might not be ready to demand what we deserve: decent health care, honest public servants, jobs that pay a living wage, challenging education for our kids, safe food and water and air.

I'm not ready to get rid of the flowers and waterscapes and still lifes in my body of work, but I'm glad to have a reminder that art is, primarily, a method of communication. Everyone has something to say, and we have an obligation to say it. And we have an obligation to hear what others say, without belittling or demeaning or demonizing them in the process. But that's a two-way street too.

I have a bumper sticker on my van: "Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes." The whole quote, from Gray Panther Maggie Kuhn, is "Stand before the people you fear and speak your mind, even if your voice shakes."

Now THAT was a woman who knew how to raise a fuss!

Tough Year for Art Lovers

2008-09-15T07:35:00.003-06:00

This is a tough year. The economy is tanking. The weather has been deadly. Gas prices ... well, let's just say most of us don't get a share of those huge oil company profits.

There's a trend in times like these: people want beautiful, inspiring things around them, because everything else seems so bleak.

That's certainly been my experience this year. Collectors, patrons and "everyday" art lovers need that one special piece -- that oasis of beauty or inspiration or personal connection that our art represents for them.

Art isn't a luxury anymore. It's a sanity-saver.

It's been a tough year to go to art fairs too. I'm grateful for every single person who comes out in the rain and nasty weather. This year of art fairs has seen more than just rain. Microbursts, tornados and straight-line winds have destroyed hundreds of thousands of dollars of art at fairs this season.

This weekend I was at Lakeside East in the Lincoln Park neighborhood of Chicago. We set up after dark - in the rain. We finished setting up Saturday morning - in the rain. There was a record 7 inches of rain in Chicago. They cancelled the show for Sunday, so after close on Saturday we torn down and packed up in the dark -- and the rain. The urban streams were flowing in the streets and basements. Still people came to see and buy art.

Thank you.

And Now for Something Completely Different...

2008-09-08T07:32:00.008-06:00

My friend Hildy Gottlieb (desert dweller, fixer of non-profits and talented photographer -- and many other things too numerous to mention) introduced me to this web-based comic. I've become rather addicted.

What does this have to do with art? Aside from the fact that it IS art, work like this makes me laugh and gives me some balance. I need that right now. A lot of it.

If you go to his site, (www.xkcd.com) don't forget to roll over the comic with your mouse. There more here than meets the eye!

The work comes with a warning: "This comic occasionally contains strong language (which may be unsuitable for children), unusual humor (which may be unsuitable for adults), and advanced mathematics (which may be unsuitable for liberal-arts majors).

Hey! I resemble that remark!

A Family In Progress

2008-09-02T06:53:00.006-06:00

I know people get tired of hearing this from me, but it's my litany:

Art saves lives.

Art can save the world.

How do I know? Because I've seen it. I don't mean to suggest that ONLY art saves lives. That would be silly. It's equally silly to think that art is just pretty or angry or useless.

Want an example? I have lots, but let's start with this one. Missouri Adoption Heart Gallery Project.

The Heart Gallery has affiliates all over the country. The Missouri project was started three years ago by photographer Dana Colcleasure, who truly is my hero. She worked for a couple of years to cut through bureaucratic red tape, appease obstructive egos and recruit photographers. I bugged her for months when I first heard of it -- long before she was ready for photographers -- because I wanted to be part of this project.

Heart Gallery photographers are professionals who take fine art portraits of children awaiting adoption. We try to show their personality, their life-spark. The portraits then tour the state in galleries and shopping centers and community centers, hoping a family will be inspired to inquire about adoption.

It works. Hundreds of children in MO have been adopted in the last three years. I know of at least two children I have photographed who have found "forever families." Thousands are still waiting.

This year I photographed 12 children! Every one of them is beautiful and fun and perfect and loveable. Every once in a while I check the gallery to see how they are faring. WHOOPPIEEE! Xavier, Jordan & George Michael have a family in progress! Taking on three boys is a challenge, but this family will be the best!

So you might be thinking: I don't know if I can do that. These kids are older. Some have "issues." Some have disabilities.

Yep. That's right. But we ALL have issues. And I don't know if you can do it either. But I know we have to do something! Each one of us who is successful stood on the shoulders of others. We were lifted and coached and encouraged. That's what these kids deserve too.

Now, let's see what we can do for Blaine, Willie, sisters Tiffany, Tierra and Sharda, James, Felicia and twins Kantriel & Keron. The Missouri Heart Gallery has been touring the state since May. It opened in St. Louis yestereday and will be in various locations throughout the month of September. See the whole schedule here. Please visit it and spread the word.

Can art save lives? I made a simple piece of art in March and three boys will celebrate Christmas with parents and their "forever family." I know I just had a small part in it, but it's a part I'm humbled and privileged to do.

We can't fix everything, but we can fix something. Art saves lives. Art can change the world.

An Opening

2008-08-18T07:00:00.006-06:00

"Memento Chai," my solo show of Judaica, opened on Saturday night.

A solo show is a gigantic responsibility. When an artist is part of a group show, curators manage everything: art selection, invitations, atmosphere, hanging the show, getting people to the opening, wine and food, labels. Every little detail is managed. The artist just delivers the work and maybe invites collectors and friends. The artist doesn't even think about whether people will come. Of course they will.

Hang the art and people will come.

A solo show rests entirely on one artist and her reputation. Oy! That's a bit of pressure!

Before I could even worry about who would come, I had a thousand details to consider, not the least of which was selecting the art, framing and hanging it. Fortunately I had lots of help. Husband Steve Sorkin managed the PR for me, getting press releases out and making the necessary contacts. Daughter Hannah worked on my mailing list. Friend and artist Ilene Berman listened to my endless, annoying rambles, and gave me advice (which I didn't take, but I appreciated) about the invitation design. She also ran last minute errands for me and offered endless support and encouragements. And thanks to Ilene, we had lovely cups for our wine and didn't have to swig straight from the bottle.

My friend and rabbi, Susan Talve, talked up the exhibit at every opportunity -- and my talent seemed to be more grand with every telling. If your spiritual leader is going to talk about you, it's nice that she exaggerates in the positive! Susan even modeled for one of the images, Hagbah.

Friend and neighbor Arlene Kerman catered the whole event with the most fabulous desserts. HaShemesh, a klezmer band, filled the exhibit with joyful, inspiring music.

And the people came. Art cannot exist in a vacuum. It needs an audience. It needs a relationship.

Thank you to everyone who came! It was an art opening I will not forget!

Solo Show

2008-08-12T07:35:00.005-06:00

Aron Kodesh, Digital Photograph, 2008, 29x22, $350

My first solo show of Judaica opens with a reception at my home congregation, Central Reform Congregation in St. Louis, on Saturday, August 16, 7-10 p.m. It will hang until Sept 28. If you are nearby, please come. It's an artist's reception, so of course there's food, wine and music by HaShemesh, a fantastic local klezmer group.

The show contains work that was commissioned for this year's national Art Calendar published by the Women of Reform Judaism. Each year, the WRJ choose one artist to feature, and I was so honored to be selected. Some of the work is on my website now, but most will be added after the show premieres on Saturday. (Don't want to spoil the surprise!)

The show's title, Momento Chai, is a combination of ideas from Jewish tradition and 16th century portraiture.

The 16th century master portraitists spent a lot of time thinking about their relationships to God, and they were a bit fascinated by death -- probably for good reason! Many put a "Momento Mori," or reminder of death, in each of their portraits. It might have been a human skull, a rope or a knife. (Remember this from Art History class?) It was supposed to remind people of their mortality and ultimate obligation to God.

That's a bit of a foreign concept to me, but I like the idea of multi-layered concepts in my work. I combined that notion with the Jewish tradition of Chai -- LIFE (remember Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof? L'Chaim!) Every idea in Jewish tradition is centered on preserving, appreciating and treasuring life.

The result is Momento Chai -- each image in the exhibit will have a reminder of life and the joy of living.

Memento Chai will travel to several area venues this fall and is available after November for installation. (Just email me at jeane@vogelpix.com for details.)

Death of a Film -- Part II

2008-07-29T07:27:00.008-06:00

Sunflower, Mixed Media Painting/Photography, 30x30, $750 SOLD

People are aghast when they learn that my Polaroid film has been discontinued. The hand-altered Polaroids are popular and they mourn the loss of new images. So do I. There are five packs of film in my fridge right now. That's it. The film on eBay hasn't been handled properly, I've found, and it's damaged. I'm not buying more.

"So what will you do?" they ask. "Are you out of business?"

A one-trick pony is out of business. An artist moves on.

I have several bodies of photographic work -- traditional color, traditional black & white, the new Infrareds (that I LOVE!) My favorite still is the Polaroids. They are interpretive and organic and fluid and emotive. Nothing else does that.

Except painting.

So that's where I'm going. This year I've starting extending the image of the finished Polaroid onto the mat. I'm using soft pastels, which are so tactile and expressive that they match the mood of the original photograph perfectly.

I was at the Geneva (IL) Fine Art Fair this weekend. It's a great show with some of the best artists in the country. The level of work here is exceptional. For the first time I showed a 30x30 Sunflower that I just completed. Maybe I priced it too low, but it sold within the first hour! The patron wanted others to see it and asked if she could leave it in my booth until Sunday. Sure!

Three other patrons were upset that they couldn't have it! They can commission one!

I love the Sunflower, but my favorite is Dragon in the Clouds, below, finished just hours before I left for the show.

This body of work has a piece of my soul and I'm not letting it fade away. It's getting a new life as mixed media painting.

A Dragon in the Clouds, Mixed Media Painting, 16x16, $395, (framed)

Dealing with Loss - Update!

2008-07-19T11:52:00.004-06:00

Good karma prevails! The equipment has been recovered. I'm not asking any questions. I have all of it back!

On the other hand, I had to replace it quickly and now have some duplicated equipment. The insurance company was dragging their feet, so there's nothing to return to them, thank goodness! I did upgrade some lenses and I'm keeping them. I needed them for a while. Sometimes the universe tells us what to do -- but I would have appreciated a less stressful message!

Telling the Truth

2008-07-17T07:25:00.003-06:00

“Even a dog distinguishes between being stumbled over and being kicked.” -- Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes

I got myself in a bit of hot water this week.

I won't go into all the gory details, but let's say I pulled out of an important art event in St. Louis, hosted by a respected art institution, because I thought the space that the artists were asked to use was worse than substandard and disrespectful to the art and the artists. When I saw the space I asked myself: would this group ask a visiting artist to use this space?

When the answer came back "of course not!" I knew what I had to do. And I did it publicly -- but as respectfully as I know how to do -- because I wanted to start a discussion of how art and artists should respect themselves and each other.

Apparently we don't so much.

Within moments of my post appearing on a St. Louis listserv for visual and performing art, I was getting private emails and phone calls of support.

"I wish I had the balls to do what you did," I heard on more than one message.

But the public responses called me ungrateful and whiny, insisting that I was "biting the hand that feeds you."

Really? Artists are lapdogs who gobble up any scrap thrown from the big art table where the master sits and then wag our tails in gratitude? Or are we servants who dote on the master and do his bidding, accepting his blows with a "thank you, sir"? Or are we children who are to be seen and not heard?

When did this happen? Artists are supposed to enlighten, entertain, enrich and inspire. But mostly we're supposed to tell the truth! The hard truths. The ugly truths. The uncomfortable truths.

To do that, artists must be equals at the art table.

I demand to be an equal. Artists and art institutions and collectors all need each other. We have to understand and respect and try to meet each other's needs. Without artists, the museums are empty. Without collectors and art institutions that will show my work, I will starve. I get that.

Without artists, our lives are empty and bleak and hopeless. And pretty damned bland.

I AM grateful for the opportunities, but I have to tell the truth. I, and my sister and brother artists deserve respect. We have to respect ourselves and our work. We deserve a place at the table.

We are not lapdogs.

P.S. Thanks to one of my public supporters for the quote above. It sums up the discussion perfectly!

Dealing with Loss

2008-07-07T10:58:00.005-06:00

Taken June 24, 2008, in a little cave on the Current River

From the picture you'd think I'd be dealing with the loss of my youth or dignity or my svelte self (bad angles here!)

But really I'm dealing with the loss of equipment. The equipment I'm holding that was in the yellow waterproof case peeking out at the bottom of the picture. My daughter Hannah took this picture of me -- I hate pictures of myself, but it's the only one of me with my trusty, wonderful Fuji S2Pro and Nikon 28-105 lens.

What? Did it drop in the river? No. It but it is gone, apparently snatched from my house when I was away at an art fair. Nothing else seems to be missing except the equipment in that yellow case, which I think was on my dining room table, in full view of the front windows of our house.

It wasn't my best camera -- in fact it's a back up that I don't use that often but I do love it. I have three 35 mm film cameras, 2 medium format film cameras, a dozen or more Polaroid cameras, and a film APS camera thats just for fun, a Canon digicam that fits in my pocket and a couple of digital SLRs. Each has lenses and filters and flash units and gadgets galore.

Apparently, I'm more attached to my equipment that I thought. One of my film cameras is one of my first -- a 35mm Canon Ftb. It's a work horse, worth about $5 now, but it's not going anywhere! I started to learn my craft on that camera! (I probably COULD drop that one in the river and shoot with it later!)

Lots of people -- amateurs photographers and students, mostly -- want to know what equipment that pros use, hoping to duplicate results if they just had the right equipment.

I always say that it's the eye and vision of the artist -- not the equipment - that makes a difference.

Apparently the equipment matters too.

A Trek

2008-06-26T08:20:00.006-06:00

We celebrated Hannah's 12th birthday with a 3 night, mom-daughter camping and canoe trip on the Current River. I used to know this river well, but I haven't been on it in 20 years. I wanted Hannah to see all it's wonders. It's one of the most beautiful spring-fed rivers in the country, and most of the springs are only accessible by water.

It's a cold river too, because of the springs, and the recent wet weather means that the springs are flowing strong and the river is deep and quick.

Perfect.

And, as long as we're going, I might as well shoot! I decided to photograph infrared because it's beautiful and different. But shooting infrared can be challenging. It requires long exposures because it's capturing a spectrum of light not visible to the human eye. Long exposures means tripods. And to get the right angle I needed to be in the river.

So there I am , waist deep in 65 degree water (at it's warmest), a quick current, several thousand dollars of photography equipment and 10 second exposures.

Hannah was even braver. She shot underwater video! This is definitely my kid.

An Amazing Thing Happened Today

2008-06-05T07:49:00.007-06:00

Got Game, (c) 2004 By Jeane Vogel
22x30, $350

Girls Want to Play, from the What Girls Want series, (c) 2005, Jeane Vogel
22x30, $350

An amazing thing happened today -- Mamie "Peanut" Johnson was drafted by the Washington Nationals. This amazing pitcher, virtually unknown, is the only woman to have played professional ball with men.

She played for a short time in the old Negro Leagues. With and against some of the best players in the game. Of course, most baseball fans never saw any of them, because they weren't allowed to play with whites. Most people pick up the story with Jackie Robinson in 1947.

But long before Jackie, there were men and women who played. If the black men were discriminated against, women of all colors didn't have a chance. Except Peanut. She was that good.

Maime "Peanut" Johnson and 29 other living players from the Negro Leagues were ceremoniously drafted by major league teams today.

It's about time.

There's a scene in the movie "A League of Their Own" that makes me cry every time I see it.

The "girls" of the All American Girls Baseball League are playing. A ball get away and rolls in front of a young black woman who's watching the white women play. The black woman fires the stray ball back to Geena Davis. They have a moment of understanding -- the black woman announced her power and skill, the white woman acknowledged that the black woman should be in uniform with them. The story line doesn't allow for much more and you might miss it if you didn't know the whole story, but It's a nod to Peanut. There aren't many directors who would have bothered to include the scene, but it's part of our story as women, as baseball fans and as a racially divided country. Kudos to Director Penny Marshall for reminding us that even something like baseball, as frivolous as it might seem, as annoying commercial as it has become, is still a reflection of our values and dreams.

Oh yeah, and the Democrats nominated Barak Obama for President. Wow! What a week!

Hype

2008-05-19T07:01:00.004-06:00

There's a lot of hype in this world. "We're the best!" "New and Improved!" "We're #1!"

Blah, blah, blah. It hardly means anything anymore.

You can believe it when the organizers of the Belleville Art on the Square fair proclaim themselves #1. They are!

I was privileged to be one of only 5 St. Louis artists (of 100 artists from 30 states and 8 countries!) chosen to be part of this fair. It did not disappoint. Part of the St. Louis metro area, Belleville is a historic town in its own right. The people are amazingly friendly. The town is grateful to have the artists there and the artists are grateful to be there. It's a win-win!

The patrons are art-savvy. They understand art and want to collect it. It helps that the show is so competitive that only the best art gets in. There's no "junk" art here. Anything you see at Belleville you will see in a gallery. That can't be said of most shows.

The Art Fair Source Book, the reference for fair artists nationwide, dubbed Belleville #1 in 2007. The rankings come from artists ourselves. We judge fairs on sales, hospitality, ease of set up, etc. We love this life, but the art fair business is hard -- physically and emotionally -- and a fair that respects the artists, pampers us a little, and makes our lives in their town a little easier gets high marks.

Lots of fairs are good. Volunteers are helpful. The food is generally pretty good, even if it's just bagels and coffee in the morning.

So what makes Belleville Art on the Square different? Part of it must be the community. Everyone, it seems, is part of this show. And everyone in town wants the artists to be there. The shop keepers aren't grumbling that the artists' tents are blocking their streets. The community leaders go out of their way to introduce themselves. I got personal visits from the Fire Chief and Chief of Police, both stopping by to let me know what their departments had planned to do to protect the artists. The Chief of Police even babysat my booth for 20 minutes while I attended some business with fair personnel. Who else does that?

This show is so dedicated to art (instead of making money, like many shows), that they have year-long artist-in-residence program that puts artists in area schools, and they sponsor a regional high school art exhibit that displayed student work that was so exceptional, it could have been displayed with the professional art in the booths.

And the fair buys art itself. The fair buys art for the town square and for city hall. That level of dedication to displaying art publicly is rare -- and so refreshing.

Patty Gregory, the show's founder & chair, and co-chair John Rule put together an amazing team. (John didn't even yell at me when I drove in the wrong way!) It's a long, exhausting show that brings 85,000 people to a small, four-block area of town to see some of the best art in the country. As exhausted as I was Sunday night at the show's end, the volunteers worked even harder.

I'm not being modest when I say I was thrilled to be part of this show. Thank you Belleville! You are deserving of every accolade sent your way. Please, please, please, invite me back!

The Art of Photography

2008-05-12T06:49:00.006-06:00

Find Me a Good Seat, (c) 2008 Jeane Vogel
From the So Mama Don't Take My Kodachrome Away series of Abstract Photographs
Pigment Print, 22x30 inches, $350 framed

It happened again a couple of weeks ago. It's been brewing since.

A woman who identified herself as a watercolorist approached me and told me that she doesn't think that photography is art.

Ok. We photographers get that a lot. Some are. Some aren't. Some watercolors aren't art either.

But blanket statements that photography isn't art are getting annoying. All the more so because why I happen to hear them.

She continued: But you work IS art. I can see the stroke of your hand in your work.

Really? That's too bad. I want people to see the work, the intent, the interpretation, the vision. I don't want them to see my hand. She was referring to the hand-altered Polaroids. They are alternate process photography but the sculpting of the emulsion elevates them above "mere photography" in some people's minds.

When I tried to engage her premise (that was stupid -- I should have just nodded and moved one), she pressed: But this is a compliment. She was implying that she was bringing me in the exclusive fold of artists. I could leave those icky photographers behind and be a real artist.

Uh-huh. It was more like you-move-pretty-fast-for-a-fat-lady like of compliment.

First, I'm not interested in getting praise at the expense of other artists. Second, there seems to be this lingering, elitist, self-important attitude that "anyone" can take a picture, so it's not art. This women actually said that to me too. "Anyone can take a picture, but you do something with them."

Ok. Let me get this straight. Cameras are common, lots of people have them. All you have to do to take a picture is point and shoot. No art there. If that's the definition of art, can anyone be an watercolorist? I have watercolor brushes, tubes and cakes of paint. If I dip the brush in the water and then in the paint and pull it across the paper, did I make "real" art?

In that context, doesn't it seem a little silly to say that "anyone can make a photograph"?

Art is NEVER about the tools. Photographers get trapped by the temptation of the new toys all the time. We think: if only I had THAT kind of camera, I could make THAT kind of picture. Let me say it again. Art is NEVER, EVER about the tools. A camera is a tool. Nothing more.

Give a good photographer an oatmeal can, a piece of film, a pin and a piece of electrical tape, and she will make a wonderful photograph. Give most people a $35,000 Hasselblad and you'll still get a snapshot.

So, if it's not about the tools, what it is about? Like every other art form, it's about the vision and the statement. The best tools in the world won't guide your vision. Only an artist can do that.

Matching Your Soul - How to Buy Art

2008-05-08T07:42:00.000-06:00

Bring Me My Kitty Treats... Now, © 2008 by Jeane Vogel
22x22, $300
See it at the Soulard Art Market Photography Invitational, opening May 15

It happens every once in a while. A woman will walk into my booth or my studio with paint chips and fabric samples.

"What do you have that matches this?" she asks.

Every artist cringes a little when she hears that. It means that the art is a decorator accessory, not a statement. It's not that we artists mind that much, but we want our work to be so much more than a pretty picture that picks up the color of the cushions.

This year I added a line to my artist statement. Most people ignore it but a handful have made it a point to cheer. It reads: "Art should match your soul, not your sofa."

Art doesn't just hang or your wall or sit on a shelf. Art demands a relationship. What do you bring the work? What does the work say to you. Does it make you think? Does it make you remember something? Do you have some sort of reaction? Are you inspired or repelled? Does your impression change over time? Can you have a conversation about it?

Next time you're walking around an art fair or gallery looking for something new, pay attention to the work that speaks to you. THAT's the one that will match your sofa, because it matches your soul.

Cherokee Triangle

2008-04-29T07:20:00.005-06:00

Even if you don't think you'll be interested, if you have a chance to be in Louisville, KY in late April, you MUST go!

The last weekend in April kicks off 10 days of Derby festivities. Yes, THAT Derby. There's a balloon glow and race, a marathon and mini-marathon, tons of public and private parties, and a general air of mirth and joy.

A parade broke out in the middle of the fair Saturday morning!

Oh, yeah. And there's the Cherokee Triangle Art Fair. This was my first year there and was thrilled to be invited. I was at the St. James Court show in Louisville last October, so I knew that this is a town filled with people who know and love art. I enjoyed an energy and enthusiasm in my booth that I don't see very often. People here are just plain bubbly and happy!

And they seem to like my work. My new work was especially well received. THANK YOU! We never know if our new work will be embraced or rejected.

One woman, who I just adored, just could not decide! So she got comfortable, spread out her favorites, and started deciding! She whittled it down to three, but she kept going back to a few other. Don't worry. I'll be back in October!

Next week: Artfest on Walnut Street in Springfield, MO.

A Different Direction

2008-04-21T07:29:00.008-06:00

The biggest complaint heard at art fairs is "there's nothing new. It's all the same old stuff."

Sometimes that's legitimate. There are artists who find a "formula" that works for them and every piece they produce looks the same. There are painters who brag (to other artists -- not to the buying public) that they can paint a 4x6 foot panel in about 2 hours. They paint the same thing over and over. It's production art.

I hate to say this of my colleagues, but there are a handful of photographers who haven't updated their work in years either. It's the same images, over and over and over.

Hey, we all need to make a living, but doesn't that get boring after a while?

We all struggle with keeping our work fresh, vibrant and meaningful -- and attractive to patrons. But we have to experiment, grow and stretch if our work is to have any consequence over a lifetime.

This year, I'm starting down another path: pastel painted mats for my hand-altered Polaroid images. I'm showing these mixed media originals for the first time in Louisville next weekend, April 26-27, at Cherokee Triangle Art Fair.

Unlike my limited editions, there's only one of these. Each is an original pastel painting or drawing. I only have a few right now, so email me at jeane@vogelpix.com if you're interested in reserving one before the show or to see thumbnails of the whole (limited) collection.

Slow Down

2008-04-09T07:07:00.005-06:00

Plein aire painters have a huge advantage over photographers. They sit in one place for hours, studying a composition. Removing elements, adding elements. The artist is immersed in the scene.

Photographers used to be like that. Strap 100 pounds of tripod and large format camera on your back, find a composition that appeals to you, set up the tripod, load the sheet - yes, sheet -- of film, dig out the focusing loupe, move the tripod a bit, take a light reading, adjust the focus again, set the aperture, open the shutter for several seconds to several minutes -- all to realize that you forgot to remove the black slide and nothing was exposed. Start over again.

Now, everyone and his talking parrot with a $150 digicam snaps and moves on. It's nothing.

I can be the same way. I'll shoot dozens of shots to get the one I wanted. If I slowed down, I might only need three shots.

To slow down means to think through every step. To slow down means to envision the image before it's exposed. To slow down means to make fewer mistakes.

All art benefits from a more leisurely pace. Infrared photography absolutely demands it. Infrared is a spectrum of light beyond that seen by the human eye. Because chlorophyll in plants reflects that spectrum, an infrared capture on film or a special digital sensor gives haunting look to plants, leaves and grass. The effect is ethereal.

When shooting infrared, a infrared-blocking filter is used in front of the lens. It blocks out almost all the visible light, which is the point, of course. The infrared spectrum remains. But that means that composing and focusing takes extra time -- remove the filter, set up the shot, replace the filter, expose the image.

The exposure times are long, which can add to the mysterious appearance of the image -- flowing water, moving people, fluttering leaves are blurred in the 5 to 30 second exposures. Of course, long exposures require a tripod.

A tripod forces a photographer to slow down. To think. To be deliberate.

Infrared photography has the added advantage of pushing the artist's eye beyond what can be seen and back into a realm of imagination.

A Play of Art

2008-03-24T08:22:00.006-06:00

Sometimes I will engage a person looking at my work and it's suddenly clear I have misunderstood. I thought they were looking at my work in awe, but apparently it was confusion -- or worse!

The person doesn't seem to know what to say to me, and they fumble. Occasionally that fumble turns to "Gosh, it looks like you have a lot of fun with your work."

Well, that's pretty neutral. Doesn't sound too bad.

Oh, yes, I love this work! I gush. Then I realize -- they're really trying to get away because they don't find the work compelling at all. They might not understand, or they might not like it, but they want to be polite -- so they unwittingly downgrade my work to something frivolous, frolicsome or lighthearted.

Hey! I want to yell: It's called a WORK of art, not a PLAY of art. I put some serious effort in here!

Then I realize that the work we do in the studio or in field is supposed to look effortless. I don't want the technique to show. I want the ART to show. It should look as if I'm having fun.

Maybe it should be called a play of art.

Ding!

2008-03-18T06:45:00.010-06:00

I've been hearing bells lately.

Ding!

That's not Southwest Airlines telling me I'm free to move about the country.

That's the sound of rejection.

Ding!

It's a fact of life of artists -- and most everybody else, I suppose. Rejections happens. What you do with it determines how successful you are and how much character you have.

I must have character in droves these days.

Ding!

All year long I apply to juried exhibits, galleries, residencies, art fairs. I get accepted to quite a few. I have two exhibits hanging right now, one a solo show of selections from the St. Louis and
White series hanging in the Board of Aldermen's meeting room at St. Louis City Hall. Still, like most artists this time of year, I have dozens of applications pending. I'm being quite selective with art fairs this year and have eight excellent shows already booked.

It works like this: I decided to apply for an exhibit or art fair. I select what I think are my best three or four images and send them off, either on slides or digital images. 500 - 2,000 other artists are doing the same thing. For the same show. That has only 100 or so spaces available. There are thousands of us competing for a few dozen spots. Most of us are pretty good. My competition is a little steeper because there are more photographers than other 2D artists. Sometimes there are 50 photography applications for every available spot in an art show. There are hard choices to be made.

Outstanding artists are rejected. Bad ones too. Can't tell the difference from the letter, though!

Ding!

Honestly, I don't get rejections every day, but I got three in a row last week. That pinched. Lots of times I get acceptances.

For three years I've been hearing from patrons and other artists that I should be in the Belleville art fair in May -- Art on the Square. Well, sure I should! So should every other good artist. We all think we should be in the best shows.

Almost since the day it opened six years ago, it has been consistently ranked the best in the country. No kidding. Everybody wants in this show. Lots of people get dinged. From all over the country, the best artists come to display and sell.

Every year I apply and wait for the rejection, all the while hoping that this will be the year.

Oh my gosh! This IS the year! I was so thrilled to get into Belleville. I am psyched! I read the letter three times. Brilliant art connoisseurs, those Belleville jurors!

So.... if I can get into Belleville, maybe I can get into Prairie Village outside of Kansas City.

Ding!

I still had hopes for Clayton -- one of the best in the country. I gripped the Belleville acceptance letter like a talisman.

Ding!

Well surely I can get into Art and Air in Webster Groves. I did that show the first three years. The Belleville letter had been filed away by this time.

Ding!

Acceptance is fleeting and rejection lingers. How much character do I need?

A little more, apparently. The life of an artist is about tenacity, inner vision, confidence and the support of friends and family.

Oh wait. That's everybody's life!

You Can't Do THAT!

2008-03-03T08:41:00.002-06:00

What do people need so many rules? Especially artists? Are we supposed to be the ones who are allowed to think beyond convention?

Ok, sure. Don't poke your studio mate with an Exacto knife. That's a good one. Don't drink the glaze. Don't mess with any body's else's art... EVER. Good rules.

My daughter has an art teacher who is constantly telling her that she's doing something wrong. Don't use that color. This element belongs over here. If you shape the ears like this it'll look better. Apparently this teacher believes that every project in the class should look the same. Talk about sucking the life out of learning! How many kids in THAT class will need therapy during college?

Art should be about expressing and experimenting and creating. Rules? Bah!

My dear friend and amazing sculptor Ilene, an MFA candidate, is preparing five pieces for a crit. Working in concrete, she needs to make some plates as part of a much larger piece. She could use a mold, but she wants them to look thrown -- more organic, more natural. She asks: can I throw concrete on a wheel?

Why not?

I need a new plate rib though, so she heads to our friendly neighborhood clay retail studio. She tells them what we're planning. You can't do that!

Oh please. It's my favorite thing to hear. Tell me I can't do something and I'll find a way. It's not that I'm stubborn or obstinate (HEY! I saw those eyes roll!!!), but I love finding new ways to do things. Actually, I love working with new media, seeing what can be done.

We humans tend to put people in little boxes: he's a lawyer, she's a soccer mom, they're gay. The assumptions build from there. Most people are so much more. Can't we be more than one thing? Can't artists work in more than one medium?

So we threw the concrete. We took a more experienced potter's suggestion to throw a plate of clay first. After drying it in the sun for a couple of hours (it didn't even crack! How did that not happen!) we poured in the concrete and threw! She made me wear gloves and I HATED that sensation. I need to feel the texture of the medium on the wheel. I was pretty sure my skin would grow back.

Ilene emailed me this morning that one of the two we threw turned out beautiful! One was a little thin and cracked. We learn. We do it again.

See, you CAN do that!

Watching the Death of a Film

2008-02-25T09:13:00.005-06:00

I spent the weekend in the studio, working on new images. I have exactly 32 fresh pieces of Polaroid film left. 32. From that I might get 10 new images to add to my body of work. Maybe.

I used up 15 pieces this weekend.

The film I use for hand-altered Polaroids, my medium of choice, is SX-70. They stopped making it in December 2005. Like lots of other artists, I started stock-piling. The price soared but I bought as much as I could afford.

Sure some is still available on EBay, but film is finicky. Treat it wrong and it turns on you. The good film I have has been handled right, kept in the fridge until needed. It'll last forever there. I have some other film that has heat damage. I might never be able to use it professionally. I don't trust EBay film at all.

I used to go throught 10-12 pieces to get an image I was happy with and with worth adding to the body of work. Like most artists, I'm very picky and harder on myself than any critic or juror. I see every flaw. I want it to be perfect. Let's shoot it again! It's easy to make a mistake when working in this technique. I'm working directly on the emulsion of the film -- that very thin, delicate, light sensitive layer that makes photography possible. Get distracted for a minute and your image is torn and ruined.

I don't mind when someone looks at the work and casually suggests that I just "smear" and "smoosch" the emulsion to get the look I want, like some kind of primitive finger painting. Many people seem to think that I just spread the emulsion around and see what I get. Instead I try to explain that I use different tools for different effects, and some effects have to be obtained at specific times of the developing process. The process is very controlled and deliberate. I know exactly what effect I will get.

It doesn't matter. Either you like the impact of the image or you don't.

I love it. Sure you can try to get this effect in PhotoShop, but you won't. The film is too organic and subtle. PhotoShop will not get these results.

Besides, the result is only as good as the process. In this case, the process for me is transformative.

Polaroid announced a couple of weeks ago that all of it's film will be discontinued. All the Polaroid alternate process art forms are going away.

I get asked what I will do next? Develop another body of work, of course. The tool might be going away but the vision is still there. Fortunately, that can't be discontinued just yet.

PS. The Palms, Variation #2 is in honor of dear friends Renata and Jerome. These are date palms, and I shot them outside their front door. I've been working on the image for a while now, and finally finished it this weekend. Instead of being in the studio, I was supposed to be at their house in Palm Springs, but ice and snow canceled all flights and made the trip impossible. I also missed seeing equally dear friends Hildy and Dimitri, who were driving up from Tucson just to see me. I miss them all. Next time.

Your Artist Statement is WRONG!

2008-02-19T07:49:00.006-06:00

Excuse me?

He repeated it: Your artist statement is wrong!

Wrong? It's an artist statement! It's my interpretation of my own work. It's my opinion! The only way it could be wrong is if I were lying!

No, he said. I disagree with it.

How can you disagree with an artist's statement? But he did. He took issue with my premise: Photography does not capture a moment. Photography captures the essence of the moment.

I have to explain this a lot. Of COURSE it captures the moment, I'm told, with a look that continues: Are you an idiot? Perhaps. But I stick with my statement. A snapshot might capture a moment. A photograph captures far more -- more than we can see, sometimes more than we can feel.

Neil Young is Feeling Bad

2008-02-11T08:04:00.000-06:00

Neil Young is in a funk. Last week he announced that music can't change the world and we were silly to think it could.

Here's what he said:

"I think that the time when music could change the world is past," he told reporters. "I think it would be very naive to think that in this day and age." Young added: "I think the world today is a different place, and that it's time for science and physics and spirituality to make a difference in this world and to try to save the planet." (from Huffington Post)

Neil, Neil, Neil.

You must be feeling so despondent lately, to abandon all hope of making a difference. OF COURSE music can change the world. It already has. Music is art. Art saves lives.

Where you do think inspiration for advances in science and physics and spirituality comes from? Artists, silly.

Art-- the ability to create -- is the one thing, the ONLY thing that truly separates humans from every other being on this planet. We use tools, other animals use tools. We communicate, other animals communicate. We rear families and build communities and homes, other animals do the same. Sadly, we murder in anger or punishment or fear. Animal behaviorists surprised us with evidence that other animals are just like us. Or we're like them.

Art is the difference between us and the rest of creation. Birds sing, but they can't compose. An elephant with a brush in her truck can smear paint on a canvas, but it's not a deliberate communication.

Art inspires change. Art encourages growth. Art offers a way of communicating when -- or because-- words cannot express our grief or joy or hope or despair.

Sure, the inspiration might be just one person at a time. It might take years. Music and art are not shields to protect us from the horrors of this world, but a way to celebrate the beauty and inspire action to fix what's wrong.

If we give up on the idea that that music or art will not repair what's wrong in this world, then we have lost our world.

It's not naive to think that art will change the world, Neil. It's naive to think we CAN'T.

Best of Missouri Hands

2008-01-31T08:11:00.001-06:00

I got the phone call last Friday, but the official letter came yesterday: I'm now a juried member of Best of Missouri Hands! It's the art group that sets the standard for excellence among Missouri's artists and craftspeople.

When I applied a few years ago, I thought it would be a slam dunk! I had a nice body of work, thought I was well respected among other artists, I had won a few awards, my craftsmanship was above average, even my mother starting liking my work!

Rejected! I was shocked. Dismayed. Deflated.

Ok. Really I was just a little annoyed and embarrassed. I thought my work was good enough. I think it didn't help that one juror didn't understand that my work was an alternate process photographic art form. Oh well. I blew if off.

All right. I didn't blow it off. It bothered me. And I wanted to improve the body of work enough to be juried in. And I started getting questions over the last few years from other artists: why aren't you juried into Best of Missouri Hands? The jury should love your work. Apply again!

I hesitated because I didn't want to repeat the rejection. Best of Missouri Hands IS the best. There are only 23 photographers in the state who have met the criteria. It's a lot tougher than I thought to get in. The artist ego is fragile. Rejection is not something that is missing in my life.

The jurors were tough. The scoring sheets showed that one juror had lots of questions about the originality and pizazz of my subject matter. Something else to work on! Fortunately, the other two jurors found enough merit, though all three voted my acceptance. The jurors are anonymous -- at least to me -- so I can only thank them publicly. Thank you!

Exposure

2008-01-22T09:48:00.002-06:00

People die from that, don't they?

That's the joke in the art world. A well meaning charity worker approaches an artist. We're raising money, she says, and we'd like you donate some of your wonderful artwork to the auction. It will be great exposure!

I'm a photographer. I know quite a lot about exposure. Too little, and nothing can be seen. Too much, and you're ruined -- overblown, blinded.

Exposure must be dead on. Composition and subject matter are nothing if the exposure is wrong.

The same goes for artists: too little exposure and only your mom thinks you're good (even if she doesn't quite understand it.) Too much exposure and you're not special anymore.

It's become very popular for nonprofit organizations to ask artists to donate work. The attitude seems to be that the group is doing us a favor! All these people will see our work! Baloney! The fact is, all this donated work doesn't bring the promised exposure -- it just devalues the work of the art.

With few exceptions, I prefer not to donate art to auctions because I'm not interested in giving my work away. I respect my work and I truly respect my collectors. Art is valuable and should be treated with respect. So should the artists.

We could debate for hours why art and artists aren't respected in this country. Really? You thought we were? Ask an artist for a honest opinion. Chances are more people think he or she falls into one of three categories: a trust-funder of independent means, a part-timer who married to someone with a good job, or a hobbyist. Art is still thought of as frivolous or inaccessible or unimportant. If it's not a "pretty picture," is it still art?

Art saves lives. Art makes us think. Art moves us beyond ourselves. Art changes the world.

As my dear friend, sculptor Ilene Berman often notes: If it doesn't, what's the point?

What's the point, indeed.

So what are the exceptions for donating art? Lots of art fairs ask for a donation to put in the children's tent, where children can buy fine art for $5 or $10. I think that's a great idea. Their parents aren't allowed in the children's art tent so the kids get to chose a piece for themselves. To empower a child and educate him or her about art is the best idea to come out of art fairs in long time. Kids often come back to my booth with the piece they chose, so proud and happy. They have learned the excitement of beginning an art collection of their own.

Also, I will donate to a group that I have a strong connection to. Or I might donate a gift certificate. If I don't know the organization or don't care about the issue, why should I donate? I won't. Make your case and change my mind, but don't expect me to give you work for the "exposure."

If I don't value my work, no one else will either. I won't just give it away.

(Image posted is Icy, (C) 2007 Jeane Vogel Photography)

Two New Exhibits

2008-01-09T09:25:00.000-06:00

It's great to start off January with two new exhibits, including some brand new work!

Let's Skip the Chrysalis has been accepted into the most recent Art St. Louis exhibition, which opens with an artist reception on Jan. 20. ASL shows are getting more competitive all the time and I am so pleased to included again. For this show there were 147 artworks submitted by 86 artists. Only 55 works by 53 artists were selected for exhibition.

The exhibit runs January 21-February 28, 2008 in the Art Saint Louis Main Gallery.

If Wishes Were Horses... appears in Magic Silver, a nationally juried photography exhibition at Eagle Art Gallery on the campus of Murray State University in Murray, KY. The exhibition also opens with an artist reception Jan 20 and runs through Feb. 22.

Happy New Year!

2008-01-03T08:23:00.001-06:00

I spent New Year's Day in the studio. What better way to anticipate a great year of making art than to work in the studio?

I never forget what a luxury it is to have separate studio space. Some of my work is done in a home studio, but it's not the same as having a studio in a separate location. Mine is especially nice because it's in Ilene and Scott's backyard -- where there seems to be an endless supply of beer in the fridge, coffee in the pot and friendship all around -- not necessarily in that order.

So I spent the day throwing pots. Sometimes I get surprised looks: you're a potter too? I'm a firm believer that an artist should have more than one medium, but I do not claim to be a clay artist. Sure, I can throw a passable pot. You can drink from my cups, serve from my bowls and even pour tea from my teapots (OK -- those ARE hard to do!) But I throw more to stretch my ideas beyond the flat two- dimensions I normally work in. Since I do this for a living, I don't want my work to get stale or my art to become drudgery. It still has to mean something! And it has to evolve.

Besides, I love playing in the dirt!

It was after one of my recent throwing sessions I thought about some images I made last summer -- those I had rejected. After looking at them from a perspective of a different medium, Hidden emerged. It's the first new work for 2008. This image is all about perspective. The rocks loom larger than expected. Are those boulders or pebbles in the foreground? Where did that mountainous rock come from? Where is the sun that the sky could be lit from such an angle? Or is the rock just a stepping stone?

Hidden projects my primary resolution for the new year: to challenge the expected perspective and look from different angles.

Winter Light

2007-12-14T07:59:00.000-06:00

The Hanukkah candles burned bright at our house this week, with as many as four menorahs at time. The neighborhood is alight with festive bulbs. And last night -- for the first time after nearly 10 days of ice and rain and fog and gloom -- I saw the moon.

All of this got me thinking about winter light. The sun is not up when we put kids on the buses in the morning, and I exercise in the cold at dawn. The first few minutes are brutal, but the light is extraordinary -- pink and yellow, deep shadows, reflections off tiny ice crystals of frost.

The night winter light simply doesn't exist. Street lights barely make a dent in the shadows. The small crescent moon was bright in comparison to the deep winter dark.

The ice storms in Oklahoma -- just a few hundred miles southeast of us in St. Louis -- reminded me of the devastating ice storms here last year. Actually there were two, about five weeks apart, that knocked out our electricity for seven days each. One was in December, the next in January. The darkest times of the year.
The times of Winter Light.

I was in the midst of working on the White Series when we lost electric the second time. Alone in the 36-degree house at midnight, the kids were farmed out to warmer places and I was trying to keep the dogs and cat and fish and tortoise warm and the water pipes from freezing. I was also bored. I used the last of the D batteries in the portable radio-TV to watch Boston Legal and some moronic reports on the local late news about what I was supposed to do if I didn't have electricity! I tried reading by candle light, but the dark was so deep the light didn't extend very far. And candles flicker -- duh! -- which changes the light and makes it hard for me to read.

I watched the candles instead. The quality of the light and the blackness of the dark were stunning. There was no ambient light. No moon. No streetlights. No TV glow. No stove pilot light. Most of the houses in the neighborhood were empty so there weren't even flashlights beaming about.

Just the small glow of two candles on my kitchen table producing a flicker of winter light. It was too much to resist. That I found my equipment amazed me. I kept fogging up the viewfinder with my breath, but the results were good: White, Variation #11.

Picking Up a Pencil

2007-12-04T08:28:00.000-06:00

Do photographers need to know how to draw?

Well, yeah! If they want to be artists they do.

That was just part of the conversation last night among a few Women's Caucus for Art board members. A watercolorist and a fiber artist were bemoaning the lack of art education among art students, who seem to be told it's ok to use computer graphics instead of picking up a pencil.

OK, I know it sounds a like a bunch of old women complaining about the kids. (Yes, that's true, but we are really COOL old women!) Don't jump to any conclusions! Each of us at the table uses all the tools at her disposal, including computers. I have some Photoshop actions that I consider family!

No, the real issue, it seems, is that students aren't being taught to truly look at an object. Older artists learned to "see" by drawing the object. Over and over and over. Some of us are gifted. Some (hand raised) struggled through it. But we learned. We learned composition, then dynamics of light, then color theory. THEN we were able to use our skills to communicate our vision and craft an unique style. We old women could be wrong, but we just don't think we would approach our art the same way without that background in drawing.

Which brings me back to photography. Since it's my primary medium, I'm a little sensitive about it.

I've had other artists say to my face that photographers aren't "real" artists because all we do is press a button. I know photographers who diminish themselves with the same description. Maybe they are right. Maybe they aren't artists.

Some photographers are. What's the difference?

It's like the difference between a snapshot and a photograph. There are lots of people with cameras. Some are very expensive and some are cheap. Doesn't matter. Point the lens and open the shutter, take what you get, move on to the next activity. That's a snapshot. Doesn't matter if you're shooting the kid's birthday party or set up an 8x10 view camera to capture the sunset. It's still a snapshot. A pretty picture.

A photograph is a piece of art that is well thought out and communicates. It's not random, it's not happenstance, it's not Lucky. It was created.

Artists who use cameras know what they are going to shoot before they do it. Some of us make sketches or word maps of the image before we shoot. I don't share my sketchbook with other people, but it's invaluable to me to get work that's in my head onto the photographic paper. An added benefit of sketching the subject before I shoot it is the abiltiy to slow down the creation process. What are other people missing because they shoot and go? What else is there. What isn't there? What is hidden in plain sight?

Sure, I spend lots of time shooting subjects I didn't envision first. That's part of the joy of this medium. An artist photographer can go anywhere and produce work that is fresh. One of the reasons artist-photographers can always find interesting subjects to shoot is that they have learned to see differently -- and most of the time it's because they first learned to draw.

Thanksgiving

2007-11-22T09:30:00.000-06:00

It's corny and it's traditional, but as I look over this year in art and life, I am overwhelmed with blessings:

A family who is left to fend for themselves (sometimes they don't think this a bad thing!) for half of the year while I travel from show to show. It's wonderful to come home, whether the show was a bust, or I earned enough to pay the mortgage for two months. They don't care. They are happy to see me walk in door.
A husband who loves every piece of art I produce. I have plenty of critics around me. It's good to have a fan.
A daughter who has an artist's eye and Gandhi's soul.
A son who helps me see the world a little slower and a little kinder.
An extended family who are interested and patient and supportive, even though some don't really understand what or why I do what I do. It doesn't matter. They think it's cool.
Friends. They are generous and funny, thoughtful and critical, talented and brilliant. And they want to hang with me! They insist on buying my work when I'm happy to give it to them. They live here in St. Louis, and all over North America: Tucson; Palm Springs; London , ON, Lincoln, NE; Montana; Tornoto; Memphis; South Dakota; upstate New York; New York City; Chicago; Madison, WI; Tenneessee; Washington, D.C. All amazing people and all very, very dear.
A space to work. This is a big deal. The basement is still filled with older work and the dining room table is often covered and piled high... BUT a real studio is a gift. I was fortunate enough to find space last year. That space hasn't worked lately and a terrific friend, (see above!) has loaned me her studio while she's in graduate school. This is a little like loaning out a husband for weekly chores (no, not that kind!). A studio space is sacred; to share it is unbelievably generous. Thank you Ilene and Scott (and Noah and Gili, of course!)
A space to shoot portraits. One minute I'm working as a fine artist and the next as a portrait photographer. Or are they they same thing? Doesn't matter. The spaces I work in are different. When I went to Dana Colcleasure at Wombats and asked if I could rent some space to shoot portraits, she didn't even hesitate! She and Kanagroo Kids have been promoting me and welcoming me. Thank you!
My fellow artists who keep me sane and cared for when I'm on the road, who put me up when I need a place to stay, who offer constructive criticism that helps me improve and grow, and who understand without saying a word.
The ability to work and make a living as an artist. Wow!
Collectors and clients. Working an art fair is hard work. Long days, bad food, hotels, travel, setting up, tearing down. Why would anyone do this? The people, of course! My husband will tell you I'm lousy at parties. I hate small talk and trivial chatting. But I love talking to people who have something interesting to say. I get to meet the best people in my booth. I also get to meet some who only want to tell me they don't like or don't get my work. I ignore those folks. It makes my day when someone connects with my work and wants to tell me about it. Some people's whole lives -- dreams, disappointments, fears, accomplishments -- come spilling out while they stand inside my little white tent/gallery. That's a lot to be trusted with.
Gallery directors and owners -- the good ones. You know who you are. We are partners in the art world. This year I'm very grateful to Art St. Louis and Imagine on Main in suburban Chicago. But to the gallery who stuck my work in a closet for six months-- plllltt!
The ability to give back.
Did I mention my family and friends? Happy Thanksgiving!

It's a Play Date!

2007-11-14T07:59:00.000-06:00

"It sounded like a play date in there!"

That from a customer at Wombats last week during the first portrait session at the store.

I've teamed up with Dana Colcleasure at her upscale, designer fashion resale shop on 10090 Manchester Road in Glendale, to offer Heirloom Fine Art Portraits.

The boys were having a great time. If it sounded like a play date it meant they were "being themselves" and giving me a chance to capture it. That's my goal at a portrait session -- have a good time. I'll take care of the rest. I don't want to just show what you look like -- I want to show who you are.

I shoot a lot of formal portraits, but most of my clients come to me because they want something more. Any technician (and that's most most big box studio photographers are) can plunk you down, tell you to smile, push a button and shout "next!"

Instead, I add my artist's eye to the portrait session and capture personality, interaction, and relationships. These portraits take time. And are worth every minute.

I leave every heirloom portrait session thinking the same thing -- portraits are my favorite thing to do! And I never forget that these fine art portraits will be around for generations, so the work had better be good!

Isn't that why we want fine art portraits in the first place? Snap shots will be faded in 25 or 30 years -- some less than that. But heirloom portraits last for generations. I never forget that every portrait session is a gift to someone's great-grandchildren.

All the information about fine art portraits is on the website, or you can call me at 314.991.0143 for an appointment. Fine art portraits make great gifts -- for this year and in 2107!

Endings & Beginnings

2007-11-05T09:30:00.000-06:00

Yesterday ended my art fair season for 2007. I have to say this was a great year. Thank you to all my collectors!

Each year I wrap up the season at an private indoor show in Webster Groves, MO. Potter Judy Guerrero generously opens her beautiful Webster Groves home and about a dozen artists fill the first floor with pottery, baskets, photography, jewelry and glass. It's the most fun show I do every year.

For the last two years, this show has been part of the 63119 Art! gallery and studio tour, which was put together by two incredibly talented artists, Aimee Smith and Ryan Clyde-Rich. Aimee and Ryan will assume ownership of Krueger Pottery in the spring when artist and owner Dennis Krueger retires.

So as the year winds down, I should have tons of time for new work, right? If only it worked like that!

I have several juried exhibits coming up, including Art St. Louis Exhibition XXIII, which I was very pleased to get into. Lost of artists grumble about not making the cut. It's an honor to have one of the 69 images (of 656 submitted) to be exhibited. Of the five images I submitted, the juror chose my least favorite, but it's growing on me.

"Beach Comber, Variation #2" is part of my new body of work in Infrared. I'm excited about it, but it's challenging to work with. Please watch for more.

I have lots of other announcements, too, starting with a new studio and and a new partnership!

I'm moving my studio to Webster Groves this month. My old studio in Benton Park is great, but for lots of reasons it's not working for me right now. I needed to be closer to home -- and the studio simply cannot be at home! Email me at jeane@vogelpix.com if you want to get in on the studio sale later this month!

And I'm excited to announce that I've partnered with Wombats Resale to bring fine art portraiture to the store a couple days a week. More about that later!

A Civil Rights Protest -- at an Art Fair!

2007-10-31T07:06:00.001-06:00

Politics and art mix all the time at art fairs -- but generally it's about who knows the director and gets the best spot. Civil rights don't come up very often, unless you're honest enough to notice that they're aren't very many artists of color in most shows. But that's another topic.

I experienced three "firsts" at the River Arts Fest in Memphis last weekend. The first "first" was shortly after the show opened on Friday evening. Apparently the fire department forgot the street was closed -- or didn't care. Two full sized fire trucks tore down the street at 50 miles an hours, with lights and sirens, just inches from the packed art tents and patrons. After the emergency was over, they came back through an a more leisurely but no less treacherous 30 miles an hour! When those trucks almost nick the awing of your tent with tens of thousands of art in it, it's a little nerve wracking!

Then a patron wanted his picture taken with me! How cool is that! Guess he likes middle-aged, chubby bohemian types!

But here's the one that stuck with me: the art fair had a protester! And I can't say I completely disagreed with her.

The fair was set up on Main Street. Not a charming Main Street or a bustling Main Street. In Memphis, Main Street is struggling. The sidewalks are crumbling. The store fronts are empty.

The Lorraine Motel is a block away. For those under 50 or those who don't remember their Civil Rights history, the Lorraine Motel is place where Martin Luther King was assassinated in 1968. It's been preserved and now is the home to the National Civil Rights Museum. You must go there. But be prepared. It's not a happy place. I haven't been there in five years but I still tear up when I remember coming around a corner and being confronted by a burnt out city bus. Not a model of a bus -- but one of the actual buses that was burnt and destroyed with innocent people inside -- all because they asked to be treated like people.

I was a young teen was Dr. King was killed. A few months later, Bobby Kennedy was killed. Malcolm X had been dead three years. John Kennedy for five. It was Vietnam. It was Watts. My teen years were not peaceful ones. This stuff sticks with you forever and shows up in art and opinions and everyday life.

When the protester came around, I talked to her. She had a good point. The art fair had set up a music stage in front of the Lorraine Motel. That didn't seem right to me either. The stage is the place where fair goers drink and dance and enjoy themselves. The stage should have been moved.

But the protester didn't like that the artists were on Main Street either. I disagreed with that. Every artist there is a small business person. None of us is getting rich. We're not exploiting anyone. We're not polluting or destroying natural resources for our own gain.

We are people making our own way in the world and trying to support our families. If our art can make someone smile or think -- so much the better.

Art saves lives. If art can bring people back to Memphis' Main Street and help revitalize it, then Dr. King's memory has been honored -- not desecrated.

The Critique

2007-10-23T07:07:00.000-06:00

Last month I finally got up the nerve to submit my work to a professional art fair juror for a critique. If you've been to art school or a serious art class, you've been through a crit. (No, the local art club doesn't count. They're too nice.)

A crit can be exciting and nerve-wracking. You can walk out of there jubilant or crestfallen. If the crit is bad, you're probably crying -- even if you're a tatooed, 250 lb pipefitter who longs for a solo exhibit of his delicate oil pastels. You're certain you've wasted your life.

If it's good, your head will not fit in the door of the next gallery you present your portfolio to.

For most of us, it's in between. And that's fine -- when you're in school. After you've been doing this professionally for a while, you need the crit to fine tune your work or help you find a new direction -- but basically you want the art professional to tell you that you're wonderful and next month you'll be on the cover of the Times art section. You want reassurance.

Some friends wanted to know why I bothered: I'm getting into good shows, I've been honored with some nice awards -- what more could a crit tell me?

The problem with being an art fair artist is that we get a lot of compliments. "Wonderful work" is the currency most people use to get out of a booth without buying something. They are polite and an art fair booth is an intimate, small space. It would be rude not to say something!

Eventually, we start to believe it, regardless if the work is selling. We might even start to think we're the ONLY artist who hears these remarks.

The crit brings us back to reality.

The good thing about professional crit is that I get to chose my own judge! When else can you do that? I'm paying the judge for the crit (you didn't think it was free, did you?) so I get to choose. My decision was based on thorough research: I read the 200 word blurbs of the choices. Ultimately, I went with the one whose image and credentials were presented in a style that spoke to me. We go through the same process when buying art, so why not when choosing a judge?

Robert Watson is an art professor at Florida Atlantic University and offered me far more advice, feedback and inspiration that I could have imagined. First, he told me what I already knew but refused to accept: jurors hate florals. I have to stop doing them. I know. But they sell! He knows. I have enough of them. His favorite: Ferris Wheel. But he hates the title. In fact, he hates all my titles. I don't blame him.

What really surprised me is after the crit of the Polaroids was over, he went back and looked at all my work and pulled out images to praise that I can't get accepted into exhibits or shows anywhere. He selected images that I love too, but the general public or other art jurors don't.

It was a terrific experience. I learned a lot. I'm energized. I'm thinking and working.

Now, would anyone like to buy some lovely florals?

Highland Art Fair & Aunt Florence, 1908-2007

2007-10-15T08:23:00.001-06:00

I was watching CNN a few years ago when they ran a human interest story about a woman in Arizona who celebrated her 85th birthday by para-sailing. Oh my gawd! I called my mother. Guess what Aunt Florence is doing now?!!! My mother wasn't surprised. Five years earlier, my mother had celebrated her 50th by jumping out of an airplane. I come from a long line of very interesting, rather eccentric and quite bold women. Who would have guessed?

I took this picture of Florence at a family reunion in Highland, IL in 2000. She always had fresh flowers in her hair or on her hat. Her laugh was infectious and she was very proud of those gorgeous teeth. A few years ago she went in for some surgery and the nurse tried to remove her teeth. With a patronizing little pat, the nurse said that she couldn't have an operation with her teeth in, thinking they were false because she's so old! Florence threatened to bite the woman's hand if she stuck it in her mouth again. The teeth were real and connected to her face!

Aunt Florence was planning to celebrate her 100th birthday in May on a parasail. She missed it by 7 months. Her memorial service will be in Highland, IL today. Her brother and other family still live and have a business there -- Widmer Florist.

Florence was an amazing woman. Born in an era when women could be mothers or have a career, she chose the latter, as did several other women in the family. She had her own floral shop on North Grand in St. Louis until she was in her late 70s. She sold the shop and decided to marry -- for the first time. She had boyfriends before, but apparently the relationships were quite proper and chaste, because she told my grandmother Genevieve (who told me in whispers) that Florence really liked married life. She REALLY liked it!

Her first husband died and she wasn't ready to be old yet, so she got herself a younger husband. She was in her 80s when she married Norm, in his 60s! They were sweethearts until end.

I felt Florence's presence in Highland this weekend. I was there this weekend exhibiting at the Highland Art in the Park, along with 60 or so amazing artists, many of whom have become friends over the years. Sales were pretty good (Highland is small, but they love art and support the show), I was honored to receive an Award of Excellence.

Thank you Highland. And thank you Aunt Florence. You will be missed.

Next Generation

2007-10-05T17:34:00.000-06:00

Next Generation is a photograph I created this spring in response to the Katrina Diaries, an exhibit sponsored and produced by the Women's Caucus for Art, New Orleans Chapter. The WCA - St. Louis Chapter hosted the exhibit this summer, together with work that member artists created in response and reflection.

Next Generation is on exhibit this month (October 2007) at the Creamery Arts Center in Springfield, MO. If you're in the neighborhood, please stop by and view the entire exhibit.

A sister artist, Jennifer Weigel, paid me the highest compliment about this photo and those now on exhibit at Central Reform Congregation in St. Louis. She admitted to me that she doesn't much like photography (I get that a lot), but that my images are intimate without voyeurism. She feels drawn into them.

That's very high praise for any artist, especially a photographer. Thank you, Jennifer. (And I won't mention that it kills me that you were born the year I was a senior in college. Sheesh! When did I get so old?)

A Shelter of Peace

2007-09-27T07:02:00.000-06:00

Sukkat Shalom, a Shelter of Peace, opens Saturday, Sept. 29 at Central Reform Congregation, 5020 Waterman, St. Louis, MO with an artists' reception and gallery talk from 7-9 p.m.

I am so thrilled with this exhibit. We've never had a juried exhibition at CRC before and the varied artwork looks exquisite on the wood walls. More importantly, artists from a variety of faith traditions and five states interpreted the theme so broadly. I expect the exhibit to spark many conversations in the months to come.

This is one of my entries, A Place to Be, and I'm very pleased it was included in the show. An element of surprise, to see the ordinary a bit differently, seems to be a common thread running through my newer work.

Many photographers shoot what they see. Some photographers see what they shoot. I'm the latter. In other words, I envision an image, work through it, plan it. I can have an image in my mind for months, even years, before it works its way to the top and is finally ready to be put on paper. This was one of those images, which probably is why I like it so much. Very few of my favorite images are in color.

Birds love to nest around our home -- probably because the trees are untrimmed and the grass is high. I guess it doesn't look like anyone really lives here. Or maybe they realize we have other things to do and we won't whack off branches willy nilly!

This nest fell from a tree, completely intact, in May. I knew I wanted to photograph it, so I saved it. I know it looked like I just laid it on the sidewalk near the front door and forgot about it for three months, but really it was there to remind me to think about the image. I did. For three months. Then I picked up a camera. This is the result.

Please come take a look at all the wonderful interpretations of shelters of peace. The exhibit runs through Dec. 1

Perfect Light

2007-09-14T19:09:00.000-06:00

Photographers notice light. All artists do, of course, but photographers are passionate about it. Everything we do depends on light. An image is ordinary or spectacular depending the light, how we manipulate it, bend it, filter it, see it, exposure for it, ignore it, paint with it. All of that means we generally take it for granted.

Not today. Today the light was extraordinary. All day.

I first noticed the light this morning on my way to my studio. A cold front was coming through and the clouds were moving fast. The sun was still low in the sky and lit the underside of the clouds while leaving the tops dark. Very dramatic.

Later in the morning, I was heading north on I-55, then I-39 toward Rockford, IL. The clouds in the distant north melded with the light blue of the sky. It was northern light.

As I set up my booth at the Greenwich Village Art Fair-- in 50 mile per hour gusts! -- I kept noticing the contrast between the intensely blue sky and the white clouds outlined in black. As the sun started to set, the underside of clouds were illuminated and the tops were dark.

All of this was beautiful and unusual, but I was unprepared for sunset. Between the dark blue of the early night sky and the orange horizon of sunset was a new moon, hanging in that space where blue meets yellow. It took my breath away. I couldn't take my eyes off it. A perfect two-day-old crescent in perfect light.

Perfect light.

St. Louis Art Fair

2007-09-09T07:43:00.000-06:00

Last night I did two things I hardly ever get to do: I went out with my husband (OK, we had an out-of-town cousin with us too, but we WANTED to be with him!) and I walked an art fair as a buyer. What an eye-opener for me!

First, for those who don't know about it, the St. Louis Art Fair is reputed to be one of the best in the country-- and one of the most competitive. More than 1500 artists vie for one of the 165 spots. The setting is ideal, too. It's set in the business district of Clayton, an upscale inner-ring suburb. The hours of the three-day show, which go to 10 p.m. on Friday and Saturday night, must be grueling for the artists. I've done those show hours and they can be horrible or exhilarating, depending on the crowd -- and the artists' attitudes.

After spending the evening at the fair, I came away with one conclusion: most of the artists there should be ashamed of themselves. Except for artists I knew, only ONE artist greeted me with an attitude of welcome and enthusiasm for her work. At least a quarter of the booths were void of artists altogether!

In fairness, it was a little rainy -- but rain is part of the deal when you sign up to be a art fair artist. It will rain during the summer, and it will rain in September in St. Louis, and -- if history tells us anything -- it WILL rain during the St. Louis Art Fair.

Also, in fairness, there were A LOT of people on the street Saturday night. The booths had people in them and I saw some transactions.

What I didn't see was artists' enthusiasm for their work. Maybe that was because some of the work just wasn't that good. Maybe there were tired and wet and crabby. I don't care.

Art is so subjective and I don't claim to be an intellectually gifted critic. I do see a lot of art and I think I can recognize an artist with vision, originality, and care of craftsmanship. I generally skip over the fiber and jewelry booths, (sorry) so I cannot speak to those.

First, the good: the quality of painting and drawing was exceptional -- the best I've seen for a while. There were glass and ceramic artists producing extraordinary and unusual work. There was some sculpture that was so interesting I wished I had an extra $500 to plunk down. I think my favorite by far was Cathy Broksi, a ceramic artist, whose figures spoke to me with such force that I woke up this morning thinking about them. I hope Cathy wants to trade work with me someday. She was the only artist who was energetic and welcoming. She and her assistant-friend even were friendly and open AFTER they found out I was a sister artist and probably wasn't buying anything. (I'm putting a bumpersticker on my van that reads: "Driver carries no cash. She's an artist.")

I'll let my friend Mary Beth Shaw, a mixed media artist and self-confessed "girl who runs with scissors," who exhibited at the St. Louis Art Fair this year, comment on the Mixed Media work. Some I thought was wonderful, but a lot looked mass-produced and gimmicky to me.

Now for the photography. Since I'm a photographer, this category always gets my harshest eye. Frankly, I didn't see anything that knocked my socks off. Chris Maher is doing some wonderful work with smoke, but most was the same-ole, same-ole. Some of these photographers are very familiar to me, and I don't see a lot of new work from them. One was such a disappointment. I've loved his work and wanted to see it in person. Not only was he not there, but the work looked haggard and the presentation was sloppy. I think it's time for a break for him.

I'm glad I took a weekend off from art fairs to be able to walk one with a customer's eyes. It was a good reminder of how customers -- at least this customer -- wants to be treated. And it was another reason to get back into the studio and produce new, fresher work.

Spoiled

2007-09-04T21:42:00.000-06:00

Hi! I'm Jeane. And I'm an Art Fair Artist.

Yes, it IS a bit of an addiction. We Art Fair Arists pursue that ideal fair -- NEXT weekend --that will bring the collector who just can't live without our work. At every show there are fellow artists who seem to unwittingly find each other and have an impromptu AFAA meeting -- Art Fair Artist Anonymous. I've almost got my 5-year pin. At the "meetings" we swap stories about the great sale, the stupid comments from that odd person who thinks it's sport to poke fun at an artist, the set up or tear down in the rain, the greedy promoters who treat us like like we have deep pockets and no sense. Ahhhhh, promoters. Don't get us started.

Then we talk about the shows that treat us like royalty. The show we can't wait to do again.

The art fair circuit is not easy. It looks glamorous: the travel, the adoring public, the "getting-up-at- 5-am-to-set-up-in-the-dark only to work a 15 hour day" -- but it's hard work. I'm not complaining. I love talking to people about my work. But it's a hard job. So we really appreciate it when an art fair staff coddles us -- even a little bit.

I thought I had been treated well at some shows in the past, but nothing -- I mean NOTHING - compares with the welcome we got in Sioux City's ArtSplash over Labor Day Weekend. It's a long drive from St. Louis to Sioux City -- about 8 hours (ok- I did it in 7.25, but don't tell!) It's also a long 3-day show. But from the moment I got there they fed me, kept me hydrated in the heat, bought from me and oohed and ahhed over me. They made me think I deserve to be pampered!

Thank you, Sioux City! The South may think then know hospitality. You really DO hospitality. I can't wait to come back next year!

And, if that weren't enough, I got to see my friends Michael Wyland and Margaret Sumption, who have a nonprofit consulting firm in Sioux Falls, SD, just an hour away.

Again, thank you Sioux City! I know the economy is hard right now, and dollars are tight. But thank you for making it worth my time and energy to discover your wonderful city and amazing welcome!

More New Work!

2007-08-21T08:44:00.001-06:00

Steve, the kids and I spent 10 days camping in the UP (Upper Peninsula of Michigan) on Lake Superior early this month. I have the most patient family. The best un-kept secret in our family is that we vacation where I want to shoot. And I LOVE the Great Lakes. I love the ocean, too, but Lake Superior is where I love to be most.

This year we camped on the Tahquamenon River, near beautiful waterfalls that empty the river into the lake near a town called (I'm not making this up) Paradise!

Lake Superior is cold to swim in (we call it "invigorating"), expansive and completely isolated. We couldn't even get cell service! You can drive for miles without seeing another car, house or -- as we were a bit panicked to discover -- gas station! You will see deer, an occasional moose and acre after acre of pine trees. You never know what exquisite cove or beach is just beyond the trees. The discovery is magical. I can't imagine what it must have been like 200 years ago, when people respected and cared for the land and water.

We had amazing weather (68 degrees when it was 105 in St. Louis-- sorry about that.) We were buying -- and wearing -- sweatshirts all week. There's also a wonderful little micro-brew pub in Tahquamenon State Park, and we found an excellent brew pub and grill in Grand Marais on the eastern edge of Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. Just because these places are isolated and underpopulated, doesn't mean they don't know how to brew good ale and cook vegetarian food! AND it's close to Canada. What's not to like?

On the way up to the UP we drove long the eastern shore of Lake Michigan (chasing beaches and lighthouses). On the way home, we spent a couple of days in Mackinaw City and a day on Mackinac Island (yes, they are spelled differently).

While it's great to be away -- and we all love camping (well, Steve puts up with it. Aaron, Hannah and I love it!), my vacations are working trips.

I'll be producing work from the trip all winter, but I'm happy with these first four Polaroid images. And I'm hopeful that I found a new source of film from the Netherlands. If it works, I'll teach classes in the technique again.

I also shot lots of timed exposures and infra-red on this trip, too. Lots to do, lots to do!

ADOPTED!!!!

2007-08-16T19:39:00.001-06:00

I hate it when people brag about their volunteer work, but I'm just going to have to -- because Shamon found a FOREVER FAMILY!!!!! I'm bound by my contract not to show his photo, but you can see it here: http://www.moheartgallery.org/Albumn/pages/Shamon%20H.htm

Two years ago, an amazing woman and photographer, Dana Colcleasure, founded the Missouri Heart Gallery Project. She organized about 70 fine art portrait photographers all over the state to volunteer their time to produce inspiring portraits of children awaiting adoption. The fine art portraits look SO MUCH BETTER than the snapshots of kids up against and brick wall, and truly show their personality. The exhibit travels the state and people see the photo, make a connection and want to meet the child. This year, already 39 kids have been adopted and there have been 1800 inquiries! How wonderful is that?

Last year I photographed two children, one who was adopted. I was so thrilled! This year Dana asked me to photograph 7 children, mostly kids with disabilities. Because my son has multiple disabilities, she knew I had some experience in that realm.

When I asked Shamon how he wanted to be photographed, he KNEW he wanted to be Batman. A studio fan got the cape flying and he took posing direction great (that is, AFTER he got over the disappointment of not wearing his Batman mask!

Now I can't wait to hear about the other kids!

Thank you, Geneva, IL!

2007-07-30T23:01:00.000-06:00

Geneva Fine Art Show: 168 artists. 4 2-D Awards of Excellence (instead of Best of Show, 1st, 2nd & 3rd place), and a nice little check. Wow! The prize patrol cart stopped in front of my booth Saturday afternoon. Really? Thank you!

Geneva residents responded too. Thank you to all of you who came by to chat, learn about hand-altered Polaroid photographs (no, they aren't digital - not that's there's anything wrong with that!), and collect one or two images.

My new work (Ferris Wheel, Horse in the Smokies and White Haven) were well received and purchased. I started on those images during the Open Studios tour last weekend. Apparently, having guests in my studio as I work is a good thing!

Thank you again, Geneva! Great town, vibrant downtown, and an art-loving public. And thank you to my watercolorist friend Mary Lou O'Brien, and amazing gourmet-husband Bob, who hosted me for the weekend (and fed me so well! No starving artist here!)

Open Studios Tour

2007-07-24T11:36:00.001-06:00

I did something I've never done before: invited people into my studio while I was working. What a terrific experience!

The occasion was the Contemporary Museum Open Studios tour. My studio was one of 40 or so open to the public last weekend. Despite being a little hard to find in the Benton Park neighborhood, I had a steady stream of people coming through. Thank you all who visited!

I was working on new hand-altered Polaroids and some pastels for a new body of work during the day. Most won't be added to the collection, but three will be shown this weekend in Geneva, IL for the first time. Ferris Wheel, above, is my favorite of the three.

A Girl and Her Bridge

2007-06-20T09:51:00.000-06:00

I exhibited at the American Artisan Festival in Nashville last weekend. It's a terrific fair run by Nancy Saturn, who owns the American Artisan Gallery in Nashville.

As soon as I drove into Centennial Park, I remembered an encounter I had there last year. It reminded me how important art is in our lives.

A little girl, about 11, came in to my booth. It was drizzling and I thought she was just coming in out of the rain. That's fine. She examined my work very carefully. She reminded me of Hannah, my daughter of the same age, who loves art and takes it very seriously. I tried to talk to the girl, but she didn't want a conversation. Lots of kids, especially girls, love my images of Horses, and I thought that's the one that attracted her.

She started flipping through the bins, found what she was looking for and took it to the next booth to show her mother. Mom was engaged in a conversation with a jeweler and not interested in the girl's selection.

She came back, hugging the picture. She tried for 10 minutes to get her mom's attention.

I asked her to show me the picture she liked so much. I was surprised that it was Adventure Awaits, one of my favorites but a pretty sophisticated image for a tween.

Does that remind you of some place special, I asked.

She was so solemn, almost in tears. She nodded. "Home."

Where's home?

"New Hampshire," she said. "And I'll never see it again." By this time, she was crying.

Obviously, the move to Tennessee had been hard. She had a $80 print in her hand but I was determined she was going home with that image, whether her parents would buy it or not.

Her parents did buy her a smaller version. I imagine it in her room, giving her comfort and easing her transition to a new place. It's an amazing feeling when my work can touch someone so deeply.

THAT'S why I'm an artist.

Inspiration Can Keep You Humble

2007-05-14T08:07:00.000-06:00

"The guys just love this picture! Especially the older men. It's so inspirational! "

That was from a woman who bought six or eight of my photographs to decorate a new office.

I was beaming! This is shot of Lower Gooseberry Falls in Minnesota is not one of my best technically, but it's ok. I'd like to get back there and reshoot it.

But hey! The guys like it! It's a construction firm and they are getting inspiration from the out-of-doors. My work is done!

She continued: "It hangs right over the men's urinal. The older guys find it very inspirational!"

I had to laugh out loud.

I try to do my part!

Amazing Weekend!

2007-05-07T09:13:00.000-06:00

Wow! What a weekend! ArtFest on Walnut Street in Springfield MO had the best weather in years. Normally this wonderful street show has rain for part of the show. The people come out anyway, but we're always a little wet. There were five straight days of rain before the show.

ArtFest is an unusual show -- not from the artists' perspective (wonderful fine art from all over the country. No "pretend" art in this show), but unusual in the traffic it generates. It's a tradition to bring your pet to ArtFest. Unlike other shows, it's ENCOURAGED to bring your pet. Dogs of all breeds are common, of course. But Springfield pet owners are far more creative than just dogs and cats. This year walking by I saw three monkeys, one small ape, a chinchilla, a parrot, a big white bird of some kind, a turtle and a snake. I don't think these folks were buying art, but they were entertaining.

Fortunately, other people were buying art. And this is a sophisticated art-buying public. They know art, appreciate it and want to collect it.

And, I have to say, the judges there are geniuses! Ok. And I don't only think that because I won an award: Best of Show 2D! I have won several awards, including a couple of 1st places, but this is my first Best in Show. Photographers don't often see Best in Show awards (have you seen all that amazing art out there?!!) and I'm very grateful for the recognition.

The prize money doesn't hurt either. Thank you, Springfield!

Outside the Comfort Zone

2007-05-02T10:08:00.000-06:00

Every once in a while a shoot outside my comfort zone. I know nothing about horses, but these two wild horses in the Smoky Mountains National Park caught my attention last March. I was on a shooting vacation, searching for the relaxing time with my family and a little exercise hiking up mountain trails in search of the perfect waterfall photograph. I found this instead. I think I got a good deal.

I don't know if it will ever see the lights of an exhibit and it doesn't fit into my current body of work, or even my new work, but I like it and I can share it here.

Franklin This Weekend

2007-04-24T14:06:00.000-06:00

I'm deep into editing, printing, matting and framing in preparation for my first outdoor art fair of the season. The show is in Franklin TN April 28-29. Last year a torrential thunderstorm wiped out about half the booths. Mine was fine, but the show closed early. The forecasters are predicting beautiful weather this year. Please stop by!

Franklin is a beautiful old town south of Nashville. I love my Tennessee customers. I have never felt so welcomed and appreciated as an artist as when I do a show in Tennessee. Talk about Southern charm and hospitality! Almost more than this Yankee girl knows what to do with!

Venus Envy, Concluded

2007-04-15T19:36:00.000-06:00

Absolutely wonderful show this year! Thank you to all the VE 07 Artists, Performers, Board and volunteers for making my job as exhibition co-chair so easy in such a challenging space. I won't belabor details (we got electricity a few hours before the Preview Party opened -- I was ready with flashlights!) The weather did not cooperate. Our cute little artist outfits were covered in coats. It was cold, but the community supported us. The art was terrific and the performances were amazing.

And my new work was well received -- and purchased. Again, thank you!

If you missed it, aren't you sorry? If you were there, please leave me a comment about your experience.

I have personal "thank yous" to Robin, Cathi, Rob & Sherri, Shane & Justin, Ilene & Scott, Jack & Florine (my fabulous in-laws who didn't know what they would see, but braved it anyway to support us), Harold, Nancy, Kim & Rick, Jessica & Elliana, Laura & Maryann, Walt & Sheila, Cindy, Jane, and Ilene & Scott -- many of whom are fabulous artists themselves. I've linked those who have sites. Ilene -- you need one! St. Louisans known Ilene's terrific public sculpture at CRC, Jefferson School and Adams School, among others. Thanks everyone for coming to the show.

I didn't have much time to take pictures, but snapped a few of my daughter Hannah with her henna, created by mehndi artist Suman Chandel. She'll be the coolest kid in 5th grade tomorrow. I hate to admit that her's looks better than mine. Fifty-year-old skin doesn't compare to 11-year-olds!

There were some amazing artists there. Of course, my friends Mary Beth Shaw (collage) and Rhonda Cearlock (clay) exhibited and sold tons! The paintings of Sukanya Mani are just beautiful, as is the work of Amy Van Donsel and Holly Gallaher. Sukanya and Holly had there first show at Venus, as did a few other young women.

Whew! Now, let's get ready for VE '08!

Venus Envy, Part II

2007-04-11T07:45:00.000-06:00

The space looks terrific! April Seager and I are Exhibition Co-Chairs again this year and we (and dozens of others) have been working up to 12 hours a day installing the work, lights and generally preparing the raw, donated space. (Thanks, Nick, for installing the beams for the lights!)

Yes, my daughter wants to know who is that woman who drags in, exhausted, late every night. She thought it was cool to have an artist mom (she gets to go to all the gallery openings and eat her weight in fancy cookies!), but now she knows it just means that mom keeps weird hours and weird friends. Good thing that dad is normal.

Venus Envy This Weekend!

2007-04-10T08:00:00.000-06:00

This is my fourth year to be selected to exhibit in Venus Envy. Each year I produce new work, just for this show. This year I will be exhibiting a series of 12 sepia photographs titled "White."
The series is 12 images of white found in the natural world, and representative of purity. The sepia is an ironic commentary on the nature of women and purity.

You never know what you'll see at Venus, but you know it will be interesting. There are more than 40 artists and performers.

Venus Envy St. Louis is an all-female art event showcasing painting, sculpture, installations, collage, music, and dance. The Venus Envy event is open to the public. The content of all shows is intended for mature audiences.

VENUS ENVY
Friday and Saturday, April 13 - 14, 2007 In the Locust Business district at 3001 and 3016 Locus
7 PM to midnight
Parking: Free lot at Garrison and Locust
$5 admission or $10 for admission plus two drink tickets

Venus Envy 2007 Visual Artists
Cate Anevski, Melissa Bales, Amy Lee Bell, Rhonda Cearlock, Brooke Center-Wise, Melissa Chasnoff, Joyce M. Cooks, Erin K. Cork, Stacy Davis, Renee Deall, Christa G. Denney, Holly Gallaher, Heather Haymart, Theresa M. Hopkins, Aunia Kahn, Courtney Kennedy, Connie Lambert, JJ Lane, Sukanya Mani, Rebecca McDonald, Sarah Elizabeth Miller, Sandy Miller, Deborah Moellering, Natalie Nauert, Kacie Nichols, Rebecca Orf, Elena Rodriguez, Mary Beth Shaw, Rochelle Steffen, Amy VanDonsel, Jeane Vogel, Lula Von Troy, Jennifer Weigel, Linda Wiggen Kraft and Michelle Zielinski

New Work

2006-08-24T09:45:00.000-06:00

Rain Delay
Shot in Ephraim, WI in early August 2006
and finished in the studio. "Rain Delay"
is a hand-altered Polaroid photograph,
and part of the current body of work.

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