Blog

I love watching movies, especially biographical films, and even more narrowly...biographical films about artists.  Maybe I am looking for hints on how their choices in life determined how their work became known, or maybe I'm just curious about how they did that something special.  I was watching (again) the movie "Basquiat", the story of Jean Michel Basquiat, who began as a graffiti artist in New York City, and developed as a studio artist.  Jean Michel hung out, and collaborated with, Andy Warhol, gained recognition and sold his art in fine galleries, but sadly, his alcohol and drug use ended his life at 27.

One of the film's characters talks to Jean Michel when fame and all that went with it had arrived, but Jean Michel feels trapped. He is wanting to do something different.  The friend tells him a story about the ancient calligraphers in China, how they would change their names mid-career, and try something completely different. Start over fresh, and bring new techniques to their art.  I don't know if these Chinese masters did that, but it makes a good story. 

I'm reminded of our friend, Jack White, and how he made his fame creating art using gold leaf, only to leave it behind and become an oil painter.  Changing direction requires a time of learning, experimenting, and often sacrifice. Jack's hard work, focused attention and dedication led to a new, and successful, career.

So what do we do when we make a decision to do something completely different?  I have been painting lowcountry landscapes for over 10 years now - successfully.  I know that my work has evolved over that time, but I seem to have found my niche, and my work speaks to my collectors.  I enjoy creating these artworks, I have a great relationship with my gallery, and life is good.

And now, for something completely different.  I am working on a series of abstract florals for my local market with a local art representative.  The work is an exciting departure from the traditional landscapes I typically create.  I'm having fun, but I would love to build a following in my local, very contemporary market.   Will I spend more time and effort on this venture at the expense of what is familiar and comfortable and loved?  I like to think that my excitement in variety will be good for ALL the work I do.  Or is that every philanderer's argument -- ending badly?

I suppose we'll see.  I just hope that I am wise enough, and detached enough, to know the answer when it comes.