the devotional act of sustained observation

For many artists, a passion to record a selected natural object – how it moves, or is moved by, light and circumstances – and to do so repeatedly, forms the substance of their practice.  Consider Georgia O’Keeffe‘s flowers: “When you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it’s your world for the moment.”   Claude Monet painted water lilies, haystacks and cathedral facades over and over, always looking deeper and seeing more profoundly.  And how many times did Paul Cézanne return to paint his beloved Mont Sainte-Victoire? The high priestess of education in the creative arts, Corita Kent, would instruct her students to “Look at things until identity, value and description dissolve.”  
This is my idea of devotion.

As I pondered this post introducing the work of Scott Morgan and his page at the artisans’ gallery, I was almost overwhelmed.  Scott’s creative output is enormous, and it covers all manner of activity; he’s a creative director, designer, artist, writer, poet, photographer and film maker…  What to choose as a sampler of his work?  To my mind however, the thread that runs through all his projects – in addition to exquisitely clean, fresh design –  is a sense of quiet awe and devotion.  I finally decided to share photographic images he gathered by standing in the same place and simply recording what was showing up in that moment – and doing it again and again.   Just like O’Keeffe, Monet and Cézanne.
 

Scott Morgan, One Hundred Days

 
Scott calls this project One Hundred Days and writes:

The basic premise of the project was simple: Photograph the exact same image; same spot, same angle, same camera, same lens, same proportion of water and sky, for one hundred days. Positioned on a hilltop 800 ft. above the water, facing due south, without the familiar sunrise or sunset poetry of east and west, create a series of images that record the elegant yet minimal transformation of the threshold between two worlds, sea and sky, and the focused ritual of doing it one hundred times over a two year period.

After being landlocked for almost seven years in New Mexico and Toronto, the One Hundred Days project was conceived as a process of my being reacquainted with the vast presence of the Pacific ocean and a return to the fundamental practice of seeing; slow down and be present.  Document the process.

The images purposely contain no reference points. The elevated vantage point removes the waves and sand leaving the surface of the sea, which could be any large body of water. This strips the images of the specifics of place and sets them free to engage the viewer on many levels both real and imagined.

 

Scott Morgan, One Hundred Days

 

Scott Morgan, One Hundred Days

 

Scott Morgan, One Hundred Days

 

Scott Morgan, One Hundred Days

 

Scott Morgan, One Hundred Days

 

Scott Morgan, One Hundred Days

 

Scott Morgan, One Hundred Days

 
You can see more works from this series here.

At the artisans’ gallery: Scott Morgan – from silence to symphony

Images and quoted text copyright Scott Morgan.


websites:
scottmorganart.com
scottmorganstudio.com
thissimplegrace.com


 

a certain kind of presence

I’ve been wondering lately how to better share the rich resource of information hiding on pages in this site. For its first decade, the awakened eye was a self-hosted website, and it seems that the content enjoyed much higher page rankings then than it does now, hosted (freely) on WordPress. I have come to understand that blog posts, being interactive, tickle the toes of the search engines in ways that static pages do not.

My new plan is to present much of the material published on static pages, as posts. These will not simply be replicated pages; they will link to the original pages but/and also contain fresh material. I hope this strategy works to introduce both old and new subscribers to more information that may be of interest, and that it throws a hook to the robots so that the artisans and writers who have contributed to the site will feature more prominently in search results.

Usually when a new artisan is added to the artisans’ gallery, a blog post is published to introduce them and their work. However there are a few who were added years ago when the site made its quiet entry into online orbit, who missed out. Let’s start with them.


Vija Celmins:

 

Vija Celmins - Night Sky 3

Night Sky, 2002

Made, invented – it is not the image experienced in life, but in another reality. – VC

Influenced by Ad Reinhardt’s Twelve Rules for a New Academy 1953, Celmins started to consciously strip away elements in her art and rejected gesture and composing. Returning again and again to ocean views, lunar surfaces and star fields she depicts vast expanses and creates depth through her investigation of the image and her chosen material. Most of her images are painted or drawn very close to the edge of the surface she is working on and seem to extend beyond the canvas and into the space occupied by the viewer.

The focal point is the small compressed image in front of you; the illusion of space from the image stays on it. As the artist describes it, the image is ‘pinned down, in your mind it wants to expand out. Reality (the art) makes it stay where it is on the wall.’

As I was working with the pencil, I got into some of the qualities of the pencil itself. That’s how the galaxies developed.

Although Celmins has been associated with several art movements during her career she seems always to have operated outside the dominant trends of the day. The rigour and the intuitive nature of her process has restricted the volume of her creative output and in turn limited displays of her work. Celmins works at her own pace and has likened herself to the spider for its precise and industrious constructions.

Maybe I identify with the spider. I’m the kind of person who works on something forever and then works on the same image again the next day. 

 

Vija Celmins - Web #1

Web #1, 1999

Tedious [work] for some; for me it’s kinda like being there. 

For Celmins a work of art doesn’t represent anything but itself. Through the photographic source material of oceans, night skies and deserts she relentlessly explores the image and the richness of its variation. As subjects they are united by their depiction of boundless nature and suggestion of the infinite.

I’m not a very confessional artist, you know. I don’t ever reveal what I’m feeling in my work, or what I think about the President. I use nature. I use found images.

In Celmins’ work however, the subject matter is secondary – her primary interest is that of making.

Sometimes I’m convinced that there is nothing else but the physical act of making the art.

The reason I think I do images that require so much time is that I feel the physical work itself lets some other thing that came through, letting something unconsciously seep through, some subtlety that my brain was not capable of figuring out…

 

 

I do like kind of impossible images. I mean images that are hard to pin down. That aren’t like a tabletop and an apple, but images that are really almost like mind images. Images that are space but they’re hard to grasp. But then they’re very graspable here, I mean, I make them accessible through another way, through manipulating the paint.

And from the video, a comment that will strike deep into the heart of those engaged in a contemplative art practice:

I really do like a lot of solitude. It’s impossible to do anything without it.

More: Vija Celmins at the artisans’ gallery

 


Sources: PBS Website and National Galleries Scotland
More information at Wikipedia and Here

Images © copyright Vija Celmins


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