Death of a Film -- Part II

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!

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

“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

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

From the Current River series, (c) 2008 Jeane Vogel, Infrared photograph, $400

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

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

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

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

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

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.