Peachy Cloaked Amydon
collage on book cover by J A Dixon
8 x 11.5 inches
Purchase this artwork!
Posts Tagged ‘Dixon’
Peachy Cloaked Amydon
Saturday, September 28th, 2019Descending Node ChaCha
Saturday, September 21st, 2019
Descending Node ChaCha
collage on book cover by J A Dixon
8 x 11.5 inches
Purchase this artwork!
Quantum Entanglement
Thursday, May 16th, 2019“Einstein had no difficulty accepting that affairs in different places could be correlated. What he could not accept was that an intervention at one place could influence, immediately, affairs at the other.”
— John Bell
After a long dry spell, I’m pleased to be back tearing and gluing. The result is my contribution to the Art-full Affair, sponsored by the Arts Commission of Danville/Boyle County, to raise financial support for local arts scholarships. Quantum Entanglement has been selected for the live auction tomorrow evening.
Stay tuned for a look at what has kept me out of the collage studio since the end of February.
Quantum Entanglement
collage on canvas by J A Dixon
28 x 22 inches
• S O L D
Precursors have precursors
Tuesday, August 21st, 2018“We do not analyze works of art because we want to imitate them or because we distrust them.”
— Paul Klee
The other day the world learned about an unpublished Ernest Hemingway short story. If there had not been a Mark Twain first, would literature know Hemingway’s writings at all? Could there have been an Isaac Asimov, Stan Lee, or Gene Wolfe without a Verne or Burroughs? The J.K. Rowling body of work without an Austen or Tolkien? 
Similarly, all of today’s rock music can be linked to direct influences — to bands such as Ramones, Led Zeppelin or the Beatles, which, of course, had their own precursors. Would jazz exist in its current form without the innovations of Armstrong and all those who inspired him? Imagine a contemporary musician saying, “I really haven’t paid attention to any music that was recorded before I started to play.” And yet, not infrequently, collage artists will boast that they have little use for art history (all the breakthroughs of bygone creators who dug the swimming pools in which they now frolic).
It is argued that modern artists were the first to decide that visual art would be about art, rather than subject matter. Nonsense. Art has always been about art, because it always has been structured on prior foundations. The idea that any artist can burst on the scene as an original is absurd. Nobody who comes out of early childhood with any level of awareness has not built an inventory of perceptions — countless images from the culture around them. Each of these individual influences involved creative activity based on another bank of stimuli, and so forth, back to the first proto-human who picked up a piece of charcoal to make interesting marks on a stone (and was probably knocked on the head by another
who judged the action as irrelevant to group survival).
Perhaps I have belabored my point. Perhaps it is a point that anyone who reads this would not need emphasized in the first place. Isn’t it obvious to us that no art form is more about all these churning influences from untold visual decision makers — painters, printers, illustrators, photographers, designers — than the medium of collage itself? So, let us all continue to study the collage artworks of the explorers who came before us, to trace the direct lineage of their concepts and techniques, to recognize that valuable inheritance in the work of our peers, as well as in the composition taking shape on the surface before us, and then, fully informed, to push confidently into the second century of collage.
Tranquil Ode (to Merz)
collage homage by J A Dixon
9.5 x 11.875 inches
Purchase this artwork.
Mr. Kraler’s Distress
Monday, April 23rd, 2018“I don’t think of all the misery, but of the beauty that still remains.”
— Anne Frank
It has been a distinct pleasure to perform in the company of some accomplished dramatic artists. I felt like a novice throughout our local production of The Diary of Anne Frank. There were times when the angst of my character, Mr. Kraler, spilled over into my off-stage being. So, naturally, I fell back on my own art and made a collage miniature as a creative catharsis. After a bit of sadness when the Secret Annex set was struck, I found myself eager to spend more time in the studio.
Mr. Kraler’s Distress
collage miniature by J A Dixon
8.25 x 9.375 inches
collection of the artist
from the diary of a collage artist . . .
Saturday, April 7th, 2018Opened by Customs was created in Lysaker, Norway, after Schwitters emigrated from Nazi Germany in 1937. Here he attempted to continue his Merzbau, or Cathedral of Erotic Misery, which he had begun in c.1923 in his apartment in Hanover. While living in Norway his work was exhibited in his homeland in the Nazi Degenerate Art exhibition. He left Norway for Britain in 1940 when Germany invaded the country. … The complex mesh of language and layers that comprise the work suggests a correspondingly complex web of ideas and emotions. The turmoil of the period (experienced by Schwitters as well as other German émigrés) is conveyed through the conflicting languages, both printed and handwritten, and the fierce red marks added using stamps, cut-outs and daubings. The titular German customs label, which takes a prominent position at the top left of the work, points to a lack of personal autonomy and compounds the sense that Schwitters is escaping ideological oppression. The lack of cohesion – the texts run in several different directions – may be indicative of the upheaval that both the artist and the continent were undergoing at this time.”
— Hana Leaper
When it was announced that the artwork of my friend and fellow collage artist Robert Hugh Hunt would be featured to promote the planned production of “A Diary of Anne Frank,” the long-dormant Thespian awakened inside of me. 
In a moment of pure impulse, I showed up at the audition and soon found myself cast in the Pulitzer Prize-winning play.
I admit to woefully underestimating the commitment of time and inward focus, not having been involved with theater for nearly fifty years. As a result, my studio work surface has lain fallow and my sense of personal priorities has been throttled. Perhaps you’ve experienced something similar to this — an abrupt, self-generated break in routine that causes the discomfort of withdrawal, but at the same time, a positive awareness that the impending return to creative output will bring a new, energized perspective.
An unforeseen synchronicity is the juxtaposition of performing a character in dread of Nazi abuse with my evolving thoughts about what it must have been like for Kurt Schwitters as he fled his homeland, or when he escaped peril a second time as Germany invaded Norway. I had no conscious regard for treading into this emotional process when I walked down the street to my local community theater. Weeks later, I have no illusions about ever being able to simulate the terror that people endured during those years.
I am gratified to be part of a fine ensemble in an exceptional play. If you happen to be in my neck of the woods, get a ticket for our show before the seats are filled.
Promotional items for our local production feature
the mixed-media artwork of Robert Hugh Hunt.
Mouse in the House
Saturday, March 31st, 2018“You can’t really make ideas, create ideas. You know, all ideas are the same. They just wander by. If your house has mice, you never know when they’re going to show up, or how, or in which room. and great ideas are the same. They’re like mice. Just a mouse. A mouse in the house. And you step on its tail and you go, ‘Hold it, buddy.’”
— Jerry Seinfeld
Ideas will suggest ingredients, but, as often as not, ingredients will spark ideas. Actually, I prefer the latter. In discussing the groundbreaking Merz pictures of Schwitters, curator Isabel Schulz asserts that his materials “surrender their original function … but not all semantic meaning.” Those meanings can generate layers of additional meaning when ingredients combine in synergy. Before long, if the exterminator is not on site, the house is happily full of mice.
Mouse in the House
collage miniature by J A Dixon
4.75 x 5.5 inches
Purchase this artwork.
The “Collagesmith” as Artisan
Saturday, March 24th, 2018“Even in the absence of inspiration and talent, I think that through sheer craft you can actually create extremely good work, all the time, reliably. Great work is something else. I think for great work you also need a lot of luck. You can only aspire to really good work. The great work either happens or it doesn’t.”
— Christoph Niemann
Sloppy collage artwork has never held much appeal for me. Individuals might define “sloppy” differently, so I’ll rephrase that. I have always found well-crafted collage artwork to be the most appealing. In practice, I have aspired to the highest level of artisanship to which I am capable. According to my peculiar notions, the very nature of collage as a “mash-up” of visual ingredients suggests that one resist all the inherent temptations to condone careless techniques. To do anything less is a disservice to the medium, and strikes me as being a bit lazy.
I have been at this long enough to contrast current activity with a study of my “early” work. I perceive it now as more crisp and aligned with my long stint as a designer and illustrator. I remain proud of craftsmanship that continues to challenge my present hand skills. Like everyone who sticks around, I have moved relentlessly toward a period of life when manual dexterity and vision are unlikely to improve. At any rate, clean, precise work is more about attitude and personal commitment than it is about facility. Lately, on the other hand, I have sought a more organic, less contrived look — the impression that a piece is naturally the way it should be, rather than appear too obviously composed and belabored. As I work, I try not to permit the goal of a somewhat softer and cohesive whole to suggest a relaxation of craft. In fact, I have gradually introduced steps in the process that demand extra time and attention: sanding the reverse side of ingredients for adhesive-saturated compression and eliminating white edges on printed scrap to enhance a seamless effect. I combine that with ample burnishing and some hair-dryer prep before curing time under weight, followed by multiple light-touch coats of matte sealant. I would rather be thinking about practical methodology or a musical playlist than what is literally evolving on the surface before me, allowing that to be as intuitive as possible.
And perhaps (just maybe), Lady Luck will smile.
Cosmic Crucifixion
mixed-media collage by J A Dixon
2006, 16 x 16 inches
available for purchase
Collage En Plein Air ~ third chapter
Wednesday, August 9th, 2017“Try to understand, not only the nature of what you’re looking at, but your own perception and the judgments behind what you’re looking at.”
— Nicolas Uribe
Are you still as interested in this subject as I am, my dear reader? I hope so. Permit me to begin this entry with an update on my evolving ‘Plein Air Collage Kit.’ After two more productive “art-outs,” minor refinements are still taking place. Protective feet were added to the base, a better diversity of colored and printed papers were organized, and, since it isn’t necessary to take much adhesive on location, I downsized the glue bottles for a better fit.
The PAACK group was welcomed to a home with lovely farmscapes in every direction. I picked a breezy spot to test my methodology and to capture one of our host’s flower gardens. I liked the sloping road and cornfield in the background and a central tree at its summer peak. 
The composition was complex enough that I would push the limit of the 50/50 ratio of location-to-studio labor before it was finished. I wanted to do justice to the impatiens in the foreground. Although I intend to get back to some strictly on-site studies, I decided to create a companion piece with the same ratio on my next venture into the countryside.
In my adopted area of the southern bluegrass region of Kentucky, there are many historic farm estates. Two of my favorites are Isaac Shelby’s Traveler’s Rest, which is partially accessible to the public, and pioneer surgeon Ephraim McDowell’s summer retreat named Cambus-Kenneth Farm, which is not. It was a rare treat for our group to be offered the opportunity to wander among the paddocks and historic structures of the serene Cambus-Kenneth on the last day of July.
It’s not as though I haven’t drawn or painted out of doors many times since youth, but the recent, more systematic approach has introduced me to aspects of the plein air discipline that are no doubt familiar to artists who have made the practice a ritual. Personally, I find that it is important to not spend too much time selecting a spot to sit, 
even though the entire enterprise rests upon the decision. It seems as though the act should be part of the overall intuitive process to which the day is pledged. It was tough to avoid squandering valuable minutes at Cambus-Kenneth, since there were barns, ponds, pastures, an impressive Italianate home, and many remarkably preserved 18th- and 19th-century brick outbuildings, including an icehouse, springhouse, and slave quarters. By using a viewing card with square “window,” I zeroed in on the old red-roofed quarters. I was able to complete enough of the design that day to stay within the 50/50 restriction when I finished the artwork in the studio a few days later. Folks, I may just be getting the hang of this gig. Please let me know what you think of the results.
Here are the intermediate stages of two plein air miniatures, after completing
the on-location work. I start with my finding an appealing composition with a
viewing card, then roughly sketch the layout before picking a color scheme
from papers available in my kit. These artworks required studio time equal
to what I spent in the field — a total of approximately nine to ten hours each.
Garden of Alice
plein air collage miniature by J A Dixon
6.625 x 6.125 inches
• S O L D
Old Quarters
plein air collage miniature by J A Dixon
6.625 x 6.125 inches
• S O L D
Sustained Diversion
Friday, February 21st, 2014“Works of art do not force meanings on their audience; meaning emerges, adds up, unfolds…”
— Robert Hughes
Today’s featured artwork is one of the most satisfying pieces I have created so far this year. It can be viewed in person at Ingredients Reclaimed, my solo exhibition that lasts until Friday the 28th. As we know, February is a short month, so it is no surprise to realize that the display is down to its last week. Fortunately, the Boyle County Public Library is open every day. Dana (a partner in all things and my most constructive critic) thinks that this is my most cohesive, best-looking show ever, and I cannot disagree. The Mahan Gallery is a fine space — an ideal, intimate setting for someone to study the progress I have made with my investigations over the past year. I hope as many people as possible in the geographic area are able to spend a bit of time at the show, and to let me know how they feel about my work. It is such a subjective medium. For me, the echoed response of an observer has always been at the heart of collage.
Sustained Diversion
mixed-media collage by J A Dixon
11 x 14.875 inches
available for purchase