A New Patron

Living Bouquet, (c) 2005 Jeane Vogel Photography

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

Searching for Time, Infrared photograph, (c)2008 Jeane Vogel

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!

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

"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

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

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...

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

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

Candle Lighting Time, Sandwiched photograph, 30x24, $350, (c) 2008 Jeane Vogel

"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

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.)