The Academy Blog

Beautiful Beast

by Claire Cushman, MFA 2015



“Artists have a limited amount of studio time, so we have to be selective about which shows to see,” says Peter Drake, Academy Dean and curator of Beautiful Beast.
“I envision going to shows as part of an artist’s studio practice – and seeing shows that don’t inspire you is like losing time in the studio. With any show at the Academy, it’s important that the work presented gets people back to their studios wanting to make art.”

During the February 3rd opening of Beautiful Beast, it was clear from guests’ reactions that this show had succeeded in inspiring artists. I overheard more than one guest remark, “This is THE BEST show the Academy’s ever put on.”


Beautiful Beast brings together 16 of the most compelling and influential figurative sculptors of our era. With wildly different visions, materials, and processes, the artists in this show slip back and forth between the beautiful and the grotesque. The works, which range in material from carved wood to stainless steel, foam rubber to video installation, ask audiences to question the meaning of these two paradigms and all that lies between.


During the Opening

Last week, I sat down with Peter Drake to discuss three of the pieces that caught my eye and left ME itching to get back to the studio.

Lesley Dill – “Rush” metal, foil, organza and wire (size?)
Although Beautiful Beast is a sculpture show, Lesley Dill’s 2D wall installation, “Rush was the first piece Drake thought of for the show. “Often sculpture shows can feel monotonous, because there tend to be a lot of works of roughly the same height,” he says.  “This piece, which covers the whole wall, activates the space so that anything happening in the rest of the room becomes part of a spectacle.”

In “Rush” a small metal cutout of a seated figure occupies the left corner of the wall. Hundreds of different cutouts pour forth from his back, overlapping and flowing into one another in a cloud of swirling imagery. Dill grew up in Maine, and says the vastness and grey luminosity of the sea has stayed with her and influenced her work in metal.

Dill sees the small figure as one of us. The work deals with the limitlessness and wonder of the creative impulse, and the need to just get ideas out of one’s system. She based the piece around a Kafka quote:

“The tremendous world I have in my head. But how free to myself and free it without being torn to pieces. And a thousand times rather be torn to pieces than retain it in me or bury it. That, indeed, is why I’m here, that is quite clear to me…”

“This figure needs to have this purging experience in order to live and survive,” says Drake. “There’s a rush of cultural activity exploding out of him –Indonesian art, European art, American art, Mexican art – all these different icons of creativity.”

The overall effect of this piece is one of overwhelming beauty combined with frustration and confusion at this cloud of ideas. Just as the viewer can’t parse the imagery out into discrete units, as artists, we often don’t know quite what it is we’re trying to make or say, just that we need to get it out.
Folkert de Jong – “The Piper” 2007, polystyrene, plastic, pigments and adhesive, 80x40x40

In the far corner of Wilkinson Hall stands Folkert de Jong’s “The Piper.”  Its placement in the corner is no accident – with playful, candy colours and an enticing variety of materials, The Piper is incredibly seductive from afar. “It acts as a magnet and pulls people into the space,” Drake says.  

De Jong creates an entire world out of cheap materials such as polyurethane and Styrofoam. “Many of his pieces are anti-war themed,” Drake explains. “He does something that few people can do – he makes very powerful social statements, but you don’t feel like you’re being preached to.”  

The pipers de Jong refers to are the musicians employed to encourage soldiers into battle. “The piper is both musical and beautiful, but for a very destructive purpose,” says Drake. “The head of this sculpture is based on Abraham Lincoln – a strange contradiction, considering that Lincoln was a crusader for peace.”

While this piece immediately draws you in, up close, it’s downright frightening. The range of textures is at once gorgeous and repulsive, with wax that depicts flesh peeling away in some areas. The body is the size of a human form, but the swollen looking head is larger than life, and leans forward toward the viewer. If you stand right in front of the sculpture, you feel as though it might to topple over onto you, invoking a harrowing physical experience.

Monica Cook – “Snowsuit” wax, pigment, fur coats, aqua resin, fiberglass -28x30x40

Monica Cook crafted“Snowsuit” specifically for Beautiful Beast.  It began as a smaller figure, but grew to life size as she worked. “She had in mind the idea of shedding the skin, the rebirth and renewal that you must do in order to grow as a person,” says Drake. “But she was adamant about not leaving the skin behind looking like some discarded thing – she wanted to construct it in a confident posture.”

At first this piece, with its furs and zippers, reminded me of a piece of clothing I might see in a winter couture show. However, after spending some time with it I began to feel a bit sick. Cook incorporated flesh coloured pigment into the resin, which reminds the viewer of human skin. The scale of the piece makes it impossible not to think of our own bodies while viewing the piece, and the large chunks of the legs, arms and torso are cut away to reveal what looks like a layer of viscera and organs. I couldn’t help but think of “Silence of the Lambs” suit made of skin.

Monica Cook was originally thought of as a painter, but has undergone massive transformations as an artist. “She started making sculptures for stop action animation, so she had to learn all these new techniques at the same time,” says Drake. “This piece is about her journey as a creative person – she’s constantly learning and trying on new things, becoming expert at them and moving on.”


While the opening certainly succeeded in inspiring Academy students and viewers alike to get back to the studio and make things, it also provided a fantastic opportunity for the artists in the show to meet each other. “Many of them have had work in shows together or followed one another’s work over the years, but have never met in person,” says Drake. “So there was a really nice energy in bringing them together.”

Beautiful Beast is on view daily in Wilkinson Hall until March 8th, 2015.




Beautiful Beast

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Beautiful Beast, a group exhibition 16 acclaimed sculptors, explores the relationship between beauty and abjection through the lens of the grotesque with works by Barry X Ball, Monica Cook, Gehard Demetz, Lesley Dill, Richard Dupont, Eric Fischl, Judy Fox, Folkert de Jong, Elizabeth King, Mark Mennin, Evan Penny, Patricia Piccinini, Rona Pondick, Jeanne Silverthorne, Kiki Smith and Robert Taplin. Connected by their use of distortion to create fearless depictions of humanity, the work of Beautiful Beast runs the gamut of human emotion, often teetering towards the uncanny. Highlighting a wide range of work made over the past 20 years, the exhibition encompasses a variety of materials including foam, wood, steel and digital projections.

Curated by Peter Drake and organized by Elizabeth Hobson.
The exhibition is generously sponsored by Cadogan Tate Fine Art.

Exhibition/Artwork Inquiries: Elizabeth Hobson, Director of Exhibitions exhibitions@nyaa.edu (212) 842-5966

Media Inquiries: Folake Ologunja, PR Director fologunja@nyaa.edu (212) 842-5975

Artist-in-Residence at Moscow 2015

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During the summer of 2014 Sarah Issakharian (MFA 2015), Amanda Pulham (MFA 2014), James Raczkowski (MFA 2015) and Gabriel Zea (MFA 2015) participated in a month-long Artist-in-Residence Program in Moscow, Russia.

The Academy’s Residency Program is made possible by the New York Academy Travel Fund and the Villore Foundation. The Moscow Residency has been made possible through the efforts of Stephan Korsakov and Nikolay Koshelev (MFA 2014).

A View From The Studios (Roll 2 / 2)

A View From The Studios

Roll 2 / 2


By Maya Koenig

The New York Academy of Art operates like a family home, with many bedrooms (studios), 
and living rooms (classrooms) where siblings (MFA students) spend a majority of their life for the 
next two years making their work. 
Here is a second glimpse of that world, taken with an Olympus OM-2 35mm film camera, 
and a roll of Ilford HP5 Plus (ISO 400) film.
Caleb Booth
MFA 2016
Tamalin Baumgarten
MFA 2015
Gabriel Zea
MFA 2015
Jaclyn Dooner
MFA 2015
Max Perkins
MFA 2015
Eric Pedersen
MFA 2015
Erich von Hasseln
MFA 2015
Alyssa Smith
MFA 2015

A View From The Studios (Roll 1 / 2)

A View From The Studios

Roll 1 / 2


By Maya Koenig

The New York Academy of Art operates like a family home, with many bedrooms (studios), 
and living rooms (classrooms) where siblings (MFA students) spend a majority of their life for the 
next two years making their work. 
Here is a glimpse of that world, taken with an Olympus OM-2 35mm film camera, 
and a roll of Ilford HP5 Plus (ISO 400) film.
Self-Portrait on the 5th Floor

Jess Leo
MFA 2015

Moses Tuki
MFA 2015

Marco Palli
MFA 2016

Ciara Rafferty
MFA 2016

Gabriela Handal
MFA 2015

George Rue
MFA 2016

Kathryn Goshorn
MFA 2015

Stay tuned for Roll 2/2!

One Sweet World – Will Cotton Master Class

By Claire Cushman (MFA 2015) 

Coconut Cake, 2013 

Will Cotton stands before a medium sized canvas, blank but for a few brown marks he’s laid in for measurements. He lazily wipes his paintbrush on his apron, which was once white but is now splattered with brown and red paint. “This is my rag,” he tells us. His voice is clear and his manner relaxed, and although it’s Saturday morning, students hang on his every word. The apron, plus his thick-framed glasses and leather combat boots, lend Will a hipster-butcher look.
But Will is more of a baker than a butcher. He has created a world of dream-like, candy-confection-landscapes, often inhabited by human subjects, and is best known for his highly rendered oil paintings. However, his world extends far beyond the canvas. Over three weekends in November of 2009, he installed a pop-up French bakery/art installation at Partners & Spade, where he baked and sold confections that often serve as visual reference for his paintings. In 2010, he directed Katy Perry’s “California Gurls” music video, (again based around imagery from his paintings, which Perry was attracted to). In 2011, Will created “Cockaigne,” a scrumptious-smelling performance piece employing both ballet and burlesque to celebrate whipped cream and cotton candy.
Initially, Will strove to make art that came out of an awareness of the commercial consumer landscape we live in. He studied at the Academy in the late eighties, (when it was still on Lafayette Street), and after graduating began to develop a language in which the landscape itself – filled with candies and cakes – became the object of desire. In the early 2000s, nude or nearly nude figures began to populate these scenes. “These paintings are all about a very specific place,” he says. “It’s a utopia where all desire is fulfilled all the time, meaning ultimately that there can be no desire, as there is no desire without lack.”

Will in his Studio 

DAY 1 – DRAWING
Although his paintings seem “photorealistic,” Will always paints from life, so we work from a model for the duration of the two-day Master Class. “Life drawing seems to communicate to people more,” he says, as he begins his demonstration. “Even if I don’t get a likeness, it’s just more powerful. I always, always have a subject in front of me.”
He starts sketching out the model’s face and chest in raw umber, which he prefers as a drawing color because it dries quickly and is relatively transparent. “I like to compartmentalize,” he continues. “I put the structure down first, and then allow myself to move on to color… I think about John Singer Sargent, how he’d just kinda slap it on, and maybe be smoking and chatting while painting… I’m certainly no John Singer Sargent.”
“I begin with just the paint and turpentine because I don’t want it to get all slippery at the start,” he explains. At this early stage, he focuses on light, shadow, and contour, and is careful to point out that “contour includes the contours between light and shadow.”
As he draws, Will takes measurements and constantly corrects his work. “Drawing is all about being honest and not making assumptions. I’m always comparing between what I’m seeing and what I’m doing, and asking myself “what’s different?”” He pulls out a makeup sponge – “These things are great for erasing,” – and wipes away the lines of the model’s mouth. “It’s easy to think of the mouth as a flat structure, but we have to remind ourselves it’s curved.”
Most of Will’s paintings are very large, so a student asks how he draws out his compositions for larger pieces. “Usually I use like a 22×30 piece of paper and draw it out… and then I take a slide to project it,” he answers. “I cheat as much as possible…” He pauses. “Actually, I don’t think there is a cheating – the only thing that bothers me a bit is when I see people painting over photo printouts. There’s something I find a bit off-putting about that. But short of that, throughout all of history people have done whatever they can to get that image up there.”

Without rules in painting, it’s easy to look around and wonder, “What do I paint?” So it’s incredibly important for artists (of any sort, really) to give themselves constraints to work within. Constraints can be physical (like limiting your palette, tools, or surfaces), or conceptual, wherein you limit your subject matter somehow. Will does both, and the end result is highly specific and unique.
I’m curious about how Will sets the rules for his world, so when he makes his way over to my canvas, I inquire about it. “Well,” he says, “The world I create is probably not a healthy one… It’s made of sweets, and humans live there, and probably die there, too.” Currently he’s gotten a little tired of painting nudes, so he’s been working on a lot of costumes. “I can’t paint people in regular clothes, because that wouldn’t make sense to me… So I’m painting costumes made of candy wrappers. I ask myself a lot of questions – would there be cellophane in this world? Yes, because candy wrappers are made of cellophane. Would there be cotton clothing? No. Burlap? Yes. I just make logical conclusions and follow a thread, and one thing leads to the next.”

He looks at my painting, and reminds me not to let the paint get sloppy. “Use less turp – just go straight in with the paint for now, don’t let it get all inky or it’ll be less controllable.”
After five hours of painting, before the final hour of the day, Will has us all introduce some lead white. “It’s particularly nice to add lead white under the flesh.”

Will’s Demo Painting

DAY 2 – COLOR
Will has a very limited palette, and Day 2 is all about how to use it. “These colors play well together,” he says, and he finds he can get pretty much any color he needs out of this group. “It’s a very obedient palette.”


Will’s Palette: (All Old Holland brand)
-Titanium White – for opacity and strength (usually for highlights) 
-Magenta – (Quinecridone) – Will likes it for its coolness and vibrancy
-Cadmium Orange – With this and Magenta, you can mix any red you like
-Cadmium Yellow Light
-Delft Blue – this is a “middle” blue, so you can take it anywhere you want (ie towards green or towards purple). Will hates phthalos (monster-weed colors, far too strong), and ultramarine is too purple
-Ivory black –Will mostly uses the black for background, to represent a kind of dead zone or nothingness. Also, black and yellow make much more natural greens than blue and yellow

For demonstration purposes, he mixes his colors right on the canvas, in blobs at top, using different brushes for light and shadow. “I mix on the fly, all with a brush, because most of my colors are “ish” colors. I have to adjust constantly, so it doesn’t make sense to pre-mix with a palette knife,” he explains.

The Deferred Promise of Complete Satisfaction, 2014

Many of us were surprised by the lack of earth colors (oxides, umbers, ochres) in Will’s palette, because his paintings contain a lot of browns and flesh tones. “I use oranges, blues, and whites to create my browns,” he explains.
Will spends a lot of time looking at the subtle differences in color across surfaces of skin. “Light on flesh tends to get cooler and greener,” he says, “so I often go for yellow and blue when going for light in the flesh.”
Perhaps the most important formula any Academy painting student will learn during their two years is this: when the light mass is warm, the shadow mass is cool, and vice versa. However, what really makes a painting “sing” is the subtle temperature differences in “reflected light,” within the shadow mass.
“I love reflected light. It’s just my favourite thing… What happens in between light and shadow – that’s what’s really interesting, what pays off – it’s more important than the color of the light mass,” he says. “See how this shadow color changes from blue to orange on the breast?”
Considering how well-rendered Will’s paintings are, what surprised me most about him was his aggressive facture. “The great thing about doing an under-painting is that it preserves the drawing,” he says. With the drawing intact, he can absolutely attack the canvas when he introduces color. “I just put paint on and move it around until it looks right. I’m also not shy at all about taking it OFF.” He takes 3-inch wide bristle brush and pulls paint across the whole form. “I’m not a big believer in the sanctity of the mark,” he says, slashing through the paint he’s put down. He steps back to assess, and then lunges at the painting again, like a fencer. “You may mess it up by doing this, but it creates complexity. If you just blend along the line you get tubes and sausages. If you do it with a big brush, you get weird little skin-like things happening.”
Many times during my second year at the Academy I’ve been reminded to “cover my tracks” – that is, not let my viewer see how I’ve made a painting. A painting can lose some of its magic if the viewer can say “Here’s exactly how I would make that” and imagine themselves recreating the work. It was a treat to get an inside look at Will’s process, and to see just how he goes from blank canvas to his highly realized, dreamlike candy land. Will Cotton is a baker, a painter, and in this respect, a true magician.


See more of Will’s work and Greg Lindquist’s excellent interview with him

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Claire Cushman (MFA 2015) is a painter and Social Media scholar with a penchant for blogging. Check in on the Academy’s blog to read more entries from Claire throughout the year.

COPY/CUT/EDIT




There is a process in which the artist’s identity inhabits the work one way or another. The real presence of identity is often overlooked. The Student Curatorial Committee (SCC) opened “Copy, Cut and Edit,” an exhibition that unveiled, through the practice of portraiture, the identity of artists with three different but complementary elements.
Evidently, there is plenty of literature that states that identity is inherent in every person, but the search of identity is a process that is often belittled. In the process of creation, artists navigate, construct, imitate and tear apart systems of information. Sometimes, artists are not conscious of their in-born quest that leads to the sense of self; however, their search of identity naturally manifest in their work.


Curator Daniela Izaguirre stated that during the first month of classes she observed that many peers were finding personal insights through the use of techniques and methods assigned in class. For example, activities like analyzing our own facial anatomy that opened up internal dialogues with matters beyond observation. Then, realized there was a deeper story in the physical actions of creating artwork, a natural human narrative in making sense of who we are.
“All the world is a stage, and all the men and women merely players.” -Shakespeare
Daniel explains “When I think of art, I think Shakespeare said it all: Human nature is predictable. I observed as well that there is a continuous thread that ties the millennial artist, managing a social media account, and Egyptian funeral painters, that of “editing” our own identity and how others perceive it.” 
The purpose of the SCC is to allow students to broaden their experience in the contemporary art world. They are encouraged to conceptualize curate, and install exhibitions. The following are some comments from some of its members:
“During the selection of the work I did my best to put my own identity on the side and tried to read the artist’s identity in each piece. Being able to step into the world of others was a very enriching personal experience,” says Daniela


Richard Buchanan, a member of the SCC stated: “The student curatorial committee provides a wonderful platform for graduate students to engage with the curating experience. Being a part of this group has been a fantastic learning experience. I found Heidi Elbers’ (NYAA Manager of Exhibitions) input and guidance invaluable throughout the process.”


Curator Marco Palli reflects: “The best part of the curatorial process was to mingle with the student body. It was inspiring to see my peers’ work and to hear the stories and processes behind each single piece. I was honored that they let us enter into their studios. Unequivocally, I felt proud of belonging to this great community of artists.”

This exhibition is currently on view until late January 2015 on the 2nd and 3rd Floors at the New York Academy of Art. We invite you to experience it!

Artist-in-Residence Program at Leipzig 2014

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During the summer of 2014 Matthew Comeau (MFA 2015), Esteban Ocampo Giraldo (MFA 2015, Fellow 2016), Camila Rocha (MFA 2015) and Hannah Stahl (MFA 2015) participated in a two-month Artist-in-Residence Program hosted by Leipzig International Art Programme, in Leipzig, Germany.

The Academy’s Leipzig residency is made possible by the New York Academy Travel Fund, the Villore Foundation and Trustees Gordon Bethune and Eric Fischl.

Cecily Brown in Conversation with Claire Cushman (MFA 2015)

By Claire Cushman (MFA 2015) 

People often tell Cecily Brown that she paints like a man from the fifties. Her response? “Well, somebody’s got to do it.”
Her large-scale, remarkably tactile oil paintings hover at the intersection between abstraction and figuration, and are often compared to Abstract Expressionist works. Based on the aggressive way she puts down paint and her star status in the art world, one might assume Cecily Brown would be a little intimidating in person. 


And you can see why I might be intimidated.
(Cecily in Vanity Fair, 2000)
However, when Cecily arrived at the Academy two days before Halloween, I immediately felt at ease. She has a warm smile and kind way of speaking, and carried a shopping bag filled with her five-year-old daughter’s Halloween costume. As we rode the elevator to the fourth floor, I asked her what her daughter was going to be – “A fox,” she answered. “My husband and I are dressing up as the parent foxes… My daughter’s been talking about it for the entire year.”
Cecily came to the Academy to conduct critiques as part of the visiting critics program. Critiques are just what you would imagine – other artists entering your studio and giving you feedback about your work. Sometimes the process is inspiring and encouraging, and sometimes it’s downright deflating. Every critic has something unique to say – some inspire new ideas, others help resolve specific technical issues, and some leave an artist feeling confused and overwhelmed. It’s not unusual to receive back-to-back critiques that completely contradict one another. Although critiques can be frustrating at times, critiques help artists clarify their direction, because they force us to choose what advice to listen to and what to tune out.

***

After looking around my studio for a few seconds, Cecily asks me was what kind of paint I use. I show her my paints, which include a variety of brands, and some large tubes of Winton, Winsor Newton’s student grade brand.
 “Okay,” she says. “First thing – don’t use Winton. Ever. It’s so shit. It’s just waxy and awful and ruins everything. I think it might be impossible to make a good painting using Winton.”
She then zeroes in on a large painting I’d done in my Painting 3 class of a nude model sitting with a dog, (a life sized German Shepard stuffed animal, to be exact). “What’s that red there? And this green thing?” she asks, pointing to an area behind the model. I explain that this is a painting of meat, (by Academy third year fellow Shangkai Kevin Yu), which we’d set up behind the model. The green is a cactus. “Hmm. This is my favorite part,” says Cecily. “The most interesting part is the most obscure part, where you can’t quite tell what’s going on.” She pauses, and then continues. “I would just paint right over the figure… But of course, I would say that,” she laughs.
Brown creates a unique aesthetic reality by working with a constant conflict between her desire to paint the figure, and her refusal to allow the figure to remain. “I never want to be saying “this is the way it is” – when I feel like I’m naming something in too final a way, or it’s too pinned down, that’s when I feel I have to say “but is it really like that?”
She moves on to another painting, a work in progress that had begun as three figures in a forest but is starting to resemble a cow. She points to an area at the bottom right, a purpleish blob that I hadn’t really considered. “This is like Francis Bacon’s rabid dog,” she says. “Go with that.”
As Brown paints, she both imposes her will upon the painting, and lets the painting tell her what it needs. “There’s always another story going on that’s not the main story – look at the way these marks are coming together,” again, referring to the dog.  “It’s subtle, but may be more important than the rest.” She urges me to squint, and look at the painting in a “gentle” way. “What might be there that you’re not immediately seeing?” 
Don’t Bring me Down, 2011
 I ask her about appropriating from other artists. “Oh yeah, I take figures from art history and use them… Like I’ll take a Goya figure, and then a Bacon figure… But it’s important to mix it up between artists so it doesn’t become too derivative,” she says.
The old adage goes, “good artists borrow, great artists steal,” and Cecily Brown has no shame in stealing. “I have been looking at Munch and Beckmann,” she says. “I find as I get more assured of the fact that I can paint, I don’t mind letting my influences show.
Brown is most drawn to figurative paintings from the past. Her influences are mostly very old dead male painters – Brueghel, Bosch, Goya, Titian, Rubens… “These are people who I’ve loved for years, and I get so much out of – they seem very much alive to me,” she has said. But of course, she also tends to paint like a man from the twentieth century. She loves Beckmann, Bacon, Baselitz, de Kooning, Guston… and many German painters. “I consider myself an honorary German painter,” she says. Much has been made over the fact that Cecily Brown is a woman working in this aggressive, male way of painting, but she’s said this isn’t really of much importance to her. “Inevitably it’s got a feminine point of view because I’m a female, but studio is one place I’m not really conscious of my gender… I’ve never set out to do x as a woman – you just do your work.”
I’m curious about Cecily’s process, so ask her about how she begins a painting. “I just start,” she answered. “I never do any kind of prep – I just go right into it. Sometimes I make drawings about halfway through… but not usually.” Cecily doesn’t start with a clear idea of what a painting will look like, and usually begins by laying down a wash of colour. A form is suggested very quickly, and then she responds to what the painting is giving her. “I don’t have the angst that some people do in front of a white canvas, the problems for me start later. I begin, I don’t know what’s going to happen, I see what’s going to happen based on first few marks. It’s a very organic process.” She recommends working on several canvasses as a time, and seeing how they influence each other. “I’m more focused when I’m more spread out.”
Brown in her studio

 “I think you need to bring some areas more into focus, and clarify parts of the abstractions,” she tells me. She looks at my most recent painting, of three figures on horseback in a landscape. “It’s a bit muddy at the front. All this green is the same, and the head of this figure is clear but then it kind of dissolves into mud. If you add something at the front to clarify it, maybe some red, that could help. Have you looked at Delacroix? He’s great at that.” She continues. “You don’t want the left and right to be the same.” She advises me to look at every corner of the painting and make sure it’s different. “And try bringing different tempos to your painting,” she comments. “Paint really fast one day, and then go back in and paint some areas slowly, more carefully.” Brown tends to paint quite quickly and frenetically, but that comes after a long time of sitting, staring at the paintings, trying to get clues as to how to proceed. “I spend a lot of time of looking slowly so that I can paint quickly.” 
***
The goal in the second year at the Academy is to develop a cohesive body of work to present to the world. I think a lot of people who don’t make art on a regular basis assume that a given artist has a natural “style” or way of making things, and that that’s just the way it is. In reality, though, the more skill you have, the more options you have available to you, and the more you might feel like you can be 50 different artists doing 50 completely different things. For example, I’m mostly doing abstract painting these days, but took a master class with Will Cotton last weekend and made a the most rendered portrait I’ve ever painted.
The “cohesion” factor comes from making conscious decisions about what to emphasize and what to let go of in one’s work. This semester, I’ve begun to realize that what I’m best at and most interested in is working in a fairly intuitive manner. When I start a painting with a rigid idea of how I want it to look at the beginning, and follow this program through to the end, my work tends to look lifeless, or “choked up,” as my thesis advisor commented. As trite as it may sound, I am learning that my strength comes when I am able to let go, and follow my intuition. I found having Cecily Brown come into my studio incredibly helpful, because she had specific formal ways to approach this sort of painting. Cecily is an inspiring example of an artist who works in this way, but whose work still demands a tremendous amount of rigor. Her decisions are still highly formal and aesthetically based. Although she certainly throws paint around, she isn’t just throwing it around for the sake of it. She may not have a map when she begins, but trusts that she’ll be able to figure out the painting as she goes along.



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Claire Cushman (MFA 2015) is a painter and Social Media scholar with a penchant for blogging.  From time to time check in on the Academy’s blog to read more entries from Claire throughout the year.