Archive for the ‘Larger Works’ Category

Fifteenth Cosmosaic

Wednesday, November 5th, 2014

“Curiosity about the unknown has no boundaries. Symbols, images, place and cultures merge. Time slips away. The stars, the cards, the mystic vigil may hold the answers. By shifting the point of view an inner spirit is released. Free to create.”
— Betye Saar

Cosmosaic was the word I chose in 1998 for a collage series that marked my first efforts at bringing to larger artworks what I had learned from creating numerous miniatures. They were intended as gifts for loved ones, with each focusing on the unique soul of the intended recipient. After completing fourteen of them over a seven-year span, I produced another in 2006 to exhibit with The Society of Layerists in Multi–Media. It relied on a more time-intensive technique than prior Cosmosaics, was more deliberate in conceptual development, was meant for no specific individual, and was more overtly metaphysical than any collage artwork I had done previously. As far as I was concerned, it was clearly a Cosmosaic, but it also stood apart from the series pattern and subsequently made the rounds of various exhibitions between periods of storage until we expanded our gallery space last year. Just as I had settled into the idea that this piece might always reside at my studio, it found a buyer this past weekend during the Open Studios ARTTOUR.

After looking through some old promotional notes, I was a bit surprised to discover the degree to which I had described the piece in spiritual terms:

“The largest composition in an eight-year series, this most recent ‘Cosmosaic’ represents my intensified concern with symmetry, proportion, and balance, both thematically and aesthetically. A spontaneous blending of found material — symbolic images, familiar icons, and mundane fragments — it shapes an interpretation of ‘the moving stream of life.’ The visual approach reinforces my sense of a profound interconnectedness, with eternal access to atonement, forgiveness, illumination, opportunity for soul attainment, and individual freedom through the Universal Christ.”
 

Fifteenth Cosmosaic ~ a mixed-media collage by J A Dixon

Fifteenth Cosmosaic
mixed-media collage by J A Dixon
17 x 21 inches

•  S O L D

“Oh, the Places You’ll Go”

Friday, June 20th, 2014

“Art is the only way to run away without leaving home.”
— Twyla Tharp

Places to go, ways to travel, and flights of fancy . . . A series of local exhibitions at the Boyle County Public Library’s Mahan Gallery has been an effective catalyst for me to create new pieces based on unifying themes. I have recently experienced mixed emotions about the ubiquity of vintage material in contemporary collage, but the topic of this show had me hunting through my morgue of old postcards and other relics to produce a pair of artworks on canvas. Yes, we all dig the instant “gravitas” of using old stuff, but will art historians say we copped out, if we do not accept the challenge of working with ingredients from our own present-day culture? I am just musing about the state of the medium, not any artist in particular. I see a hundred or more collage artworks posted online each week that rely exclusively on 20th-century material, and much of it seems stuck in a bygone avant-garde style. It is important for all of us to keep in mind that the Dada artists so widely emulated worked with material from their own time. Perhaps the opportune approach is to blend it all together, past and present. As post-centennial collage artists, we also owe each other a bit more constructive criticism than I currently observe. As the details below illustrate, I have absolutely nothing against using vintage material. I think that artists such as Hope Kroll or Fred Free or Matthew Rose (to offer only three examples) are creating some of the more exceptional work in the medium. On the other hand, there are many who seem to be using it as a crutch, over-relying on the antique impression of the ingredient material itself, rather than the juxtapositional synergy or overall aesthetic effect.

As the artworks for “Places” also demonstrate, I continue my effort to liberate a collage from the traditional glass barrier. To do so, it is necessary to find a proper level of protective sealant to balance visual appeal and durability. I prefer to avoid an overly polymerized impression with a finished surface. Because I primarily work with found material, I have had to learn which ingredients can handle direct exposure (for an effect similar to the painted surface). Nevertheless, some are simply too fragile and will always require a safe abode under glass.
 

 

left: Here and There (detail)
right: Now and Then (detail)
two collage artworks on canvas by J A Dixon
12 x 12 x 1.5 inches each
available for purchase

Many Waters Under Heaven

Friday, June 13th, 2014

“Put stardom and success aside and just go out and do it. It’s like painting. Don’t talk about it. Or, like writing. Put it down.”
— Jonathan Winters

“Don’t think about making art, just get it done. Let everyone else decide if it’s good or bad, whether they love it or hate it. While they are deciding, make even more art.”
— Andy Warhol

After learning about a call for entries on the theme of “water,” at the new First Southern Community Arts Center in nearby Stanford, Kentucky, I leaped at the theme with a minimum of thought or calculation. I was overdue for the opportunity to create a larger piece, and it was good for me to push aside all the internal questions and mental gyrations which too often intrude on the genesis of a new work or new point of public contact. I mixed a batch of wheat paste, added a stabilizing measure of white glue plus acrylic medium, and dug into my stash of nature images. Hand manipulation of the surface with wet, rectilinear ingredients became an almost papier-mâché-like process that soon involved shapes of pure color. A sort of “low-tech pixelization” began to suggest the gentle clash of primeval and present — a Garden of Eden sweeping forward to the modern digital world.

When I delivered my artwork to the gallery and was assisted by a local artist and volunteer, Roni Gilpin, I could not have been treated better. Chasing my passion for collage, meeting pleasant people, and breaking into a new venue — I must remind myself from time to time that this is what it’s all about. I am excited about today’s artist reception, 4 to 7 pm (in downtown Stanford, adjacent to the superb Bluebird Cafe). Family is visiting from Davis, California, and everything is shaping up for an exceptional evening!
 

 

Many Waters Under Heaven
mixed-media collage
by J A Dixon
33 x 11.25 x 1.5 inches
 
Purchase this artwork!

Roni “Sister” Gilpin
volunteering at
First Southern Community
Arts Center

Brass 25

Monday, June 9th, 2014

“We need a little confusion.”
— Neil Gaiman

The Great American Brass Band Festival’s milestone 25th event is now in the archives. The finale was one of the most satisfying concerts in the history of the Kentucky festival. My appreciation goes to those who made it all happen one more time! I am pleased to have played a small part.

When I was first approached about lending my creative experience to the effort, I pitched the idea of a traditional collage to mark the 25th, using scraps from memorabilia of the last quarter century. A decision was made to go a different direction, but I could not put the idea aside. The result is “Brass 25,” a tribute to my community’s exceptional contribution to the American musical and cultural scene.

Is “commemorative collage” art? Perhaps not. Some might make the case that no example of the medium has approached “high art.” In my opinion, such a viewpoint fails to consider the 100-year impact that the medium has had on our visual landscape and the evolution of our aesthetic perceptions. It neglects the seminal role of Schwitters, Höch, Cornell, Kolář, and others. For me, the core relationship between mundane material and the art of collage transmits a unifying principle. When the remnants of ordinary life are physically re-purposed to resolve a unique compositional harmony, the culminating artifact can achieve a transcendent tone and offer a shared experience with each participating observer. If that is not art, stripped of elitist notions, then what is?

Brass 25
commemorative collage by J A Dixon
17.5 x 23.5 inches
available for purchase

Messages and Memories

Saturday, June 7th, 2014

 

Microcosmic Message
collage artifact by J A Dixon
14 x 17 inches

•  S O L D

Selective Memory
mixed media collage by J A Dixon
20 x 16 inches

•  S O L D

March Exercise  |  year nine, day thirty-one

Monday, March 31st, 2014

 

Triplet in Blue (right)
third part, configuration of three
collage miniature by J A Dixon
7.5 x 7.5 inches
view the full artwork

March Exercise  |  year nine, day thirty

Sunday, March 30th, 2014

 

Triplet in Blue (center)
second part, configuration of three
collage miniature by J A Dixon
7.5 x 7.5 inches
view the full artwork

March Exercise  |  year nine, day twenty-nine

Saturday, March 29th, 2014

 

Triplet in Blue (left)
first part, configuration of three
collage miniature by J A Dixon
7.5 x 7.5 inches
view the full artwork

Touchonic Rites

Monday, January 27th, 2014

When I was invited by Danville’s Community Arts Center to submit a piece for their annual “New Year, New Art” exhibition, I picked an homage to Cecil Touchon that I finished in December. Any observant artist who introduces cropped typography into a collage cannot be unaware of his significant body of contemporary work.
 

 

Touchonic Rites
collage on canvas
by J A Dixon
20 x 16 inches
currently on consignment
 
Purchase this artwork!

Cadenza Forte

Sunday, December 22nd, 2013

“Once you establish yourself as an artist, heaven forbid you change the formula too much. Paradoxically, this goes even for artists who ‘broke molds’ on the way up. The German powerhouse painter Gerhard Richter has gotten away with working in many different styles. But the case of 20th-century French chameleon Francis Picabia is a warning. He’s been dead since 1953, and he’s still paying for the fact that his art didn’t look the same from decade to decade.”
— Jen Graves

Pre-Christmas sales have accelerated, and there is enough time for local folks to surprise someone with a collage miniature under the tree. Cadenza Forte found a home after six and a half years. The buyer said he wanted an example of my “classic style.”

Hmmm… I need to turn that over in my mind for a bit.
 

Cadenza Forte
collage artifact by J A Dixon
16 x 20 inches

•  S O L D

this thing we all do . . .

Wednesday, November 20th, 2013

In response to an assertion that his environmental works are impossible to visually document—

James Turrell: “Well, someone has to make up for all the work that photographs better than it is.”
 

Mr. Turrell’s recent quip brings to the forefront a distinct feature of representing or documenting one’s artwork. Does it really look like the image being included with a call for entries, posted at an online marketplace, or shared on a social network? Of course, the photographing of artwork to enhance its appeal did not begin with digital devices or the World Wide Web. Most of us are familiar with the curator’s disclaimer that reserves their right to reject artwork which arrives substantially different than visually represented when proposed. Even non-artists know how easy it is to boost the contrast or color saturation of a digital image. Setting apart from our discussion works that are essentially digital from the outset, it is important for anyone working in the medium of traditional collage to squarely meet this challenge: How do we properly interpret the visual experience of seeing our artwork firsthand?

Needless to say, faithfully photographing or scanning conventional artwork is something that professionals face every day, but how can it ever be an exact science? What is the “true” appearance of anything? As the three examples below demonstrate, one of my recent collage artworks photographed differently under three different lighting conditions, before it was delivered. The more neutral version is closer to how it might “typically” appear, but perhaps the most faithful rendition would be an image made in the setting for which the piece was commissioned, under the unique lighting conditions of that particular environment, and then subsequently balanced for a reasonable match to the naked eye.

I review nearly a hundred collage artworks a day, as my eye passes over numerous online displays each week. What percentage of these creations actually look like the corresponding digital image? We all know what it’s like to see something and think, “I wonder if it really looks like that.” On the other hand, we also know what it’s like to scan a piece and think, “Wow. That looks better than I expected.”

All that any of us can do is establish a level of integrity about representing work to others. For those who routinely cheat or push an ethical boundary? Rest assured; the habit will eventually come back to haunt their studios.

And now, a few words about today’s collage example. I must first express my appreciation to Lee and David Simpson for the commission that resulted in this thing we all do, a mixed media and collage artwork on canvas. To infuse the composition with images that represent aspects of significance to their lives, this piece was personalized by using the clients’ own artifacts and memorabilia, as well as additional ingredients carefully selected from my morgue. Creating works with special meaning to those for which they were intended has always been some of the most fulfilling time I have spent as an artist.
 

   

this thing we all do (three different digitals)
collage with combined mediums on canvas by J A Dixon
15.75 x 27.75 inches (22.50 x 34.50 inches, framed)
collection of L and D Simpson

this thing we all do (detail)
collage with combined mediums on canvas by J A Dixon
(photographed and digitally balanced to match original)