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Tag: photo realism
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R.I.P. Chuck Close
Remembering the great self-portraitistAlmost all of Chuck Close’s paintings were based on photographs he took himself. In the mid-1980s, when I was a curator of photography at the Art Institute of Chicago, I contacted Close with the first museum proposal he had had to do an exhibition of the photographs. He was at the time in a New York hospital convalescing from the collapse of an artery in his spine. He was nevertheless responsive to the idea, so I went to see him in the hospital, and the exhibition came to fruition some months later.
Close’s most recent portrait paintings had been based on photographs that were life-size made by an enormous Polaroid camera. Close could stand inside the camera while each exposure was made so he could make an instantaneous decision which one to print as a basis for his painting of the subject.
These were the photographs – a mix of portraits and some nude studies – from which the exhibition was primarily drawn. The impression this may have made that he was recuperating along with his art work was misleading, however, for he was now permanently paralyzed from the his shoulders down. Yet he managed to overcome even this tragedy by having a brush taped in his hand and then wielding it by a combination of physical therapy and sheer grit, until he had restored his painting to the point at which the massive stroke had interrupted it.
Chuck Close, Self-Portrait, 2005 Around a decade after the exhibition of life-size Polaroids, I got Close involved with making photographic images that were the opposite in both size and history. They were modern-day daguerreotypes, a 19th-century portrait process creating a unique image on a chemically treated metal plate only a few inches in size. This became yet another process Close reinvented as signature images all his own.
Since then I had stayed in touch with Close, visiting him in his Soho-adjacent studio whenever I was in town. The most recent visit, in the fall two years ago, was a melancholy one. The first thing he told me was that his first wife and oldest daughter would no longer speak to him, nor would his recent, second wife who had also, now, divorced him. Among the reasons for all this rejection were recent advances he’d made toward young women who were the models for nude photographs he was now making, and who had also rejected him.
While such bad behavior on Close’s part cannot be forgiven or glossed over, neither should the fact that, despite his personal shortcomings, he was a genius who bent the history of art in all the media he adopted to his own, unique will.
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Eric Nash: Western Noir
“Western Noir,” an exhibition featuring Eric Nash’s newest paintings are currently on view at Skidmore Contemporary Art at Bergamot Station in Santa Monica. At first glance, his work brings to mind “Old Hollywood” featuring a youthful, yet noir-infused Los Angeles: neon signs from historic Hollywood symbols, road signs and classic images of gas stations. Day-lit paintings such as La Cienega (featuring a crisp blue sky with an exit sign suggesting a new destination) conjure up memories of childhood road trips; getting back on the road at the crack of dawn after a night of respite brings promise of a new day.
Nash started painting when he was just three-and-a-half years old. Raised by academic parents, his artistic talent was encouraged and he was enrolled in a Saturday morning art class at a local university by the age of four. I had the chance to sit down with the artist for an interview.
Eric Nash in front on his painting, La Cienega. Artillery: What inspired the road signs and gas stations?
Eric Nash: I was obsessed with lonely urban landscapes. I have always been fascinated with the open road and the freedom it implies, and I have always loved cities and highways. I wanted to recreate what I saw with the emotions that went with it. I wanted to tell stories based on places and moods and Iʼm still doing that. I can show you drawings of gas stations, signs or lonely street scenes going back to childhood. I did my first highly realistic gas station at age 12 in fact.
I have to ask, were you inspired by the work of Ed Rusha and his book Twentysix Gasoline Stations?
Yes, Ed Rusha has been a life-long inspiration. He is the definitive West Coast/LA painter and artist. His direct simplicity but open-ended approach has always intrigued me—both figurative and conceptual—a balance between idea and craft, a rare combination. His iconic vocabulary, use of words and clean Los Angeles color palette seemed like a modern day extension of Edward Hopper whom I consider to be my root artist. Ruscha’s Standard (of a Standard station) was to me a modern step from Hopper’s early use of the gas station and the open road. The gas station is an oasis, a crossroads and in some sense the ultimate American place or icon.
All Lanes Open, 2012, Oil on canvas, 48″ x 60″ When did the work of Hopper first attract your attention?
Edward Hopper was my first and biggest influence. His lonely urban street scenes and celebration of the ordinary as well as his use of light spoke to me very early, around age 12.
Tell me about your process as an artist?
I’ve spent a lifetime looking for the moments that speak to me. I like routine. So, for example, I drive into LA from Palm Springs, and I see the same things over and over again in a slightly different light or mood. I remember them. Usually I have a camera or iPhone, and I record them as a reference. But for me a photo is just a beginning. I have countless images that I comb through and those that stand out are put into a special folder. Once I decide on an image, I sketch it out in small scale to feel the cropping and proportions. Then I draw it on a canvas or a large sheet of paper. I like to jump right in with the first blocks of color or light and shadow to give it immediate life. I usually edit out unnecessary information and increase the drama or do something to make it “pop” in my mind.
Crescent 76, 2013, Oil on canvas, 38″ x 60″ What are your long-term goals for your art?
To create what I want to create. And if people like it, that’s even better. But as a life-long artist, I can say that it has to be true and soulful and about what youʼre interested in or it wonʼt work. So I just hope to remain soulful and honest and without pretense. Art is for the people and Iʼm one of those people.
Los Altos, 2013, Oil on canvas, 30″ x 48″ “Western Noir” runs through November 23. Skidmore Contemporary Art is located at Bergamot Station Arts Center (D-2) 2525 Michigan Ave., in Santa Monica. http://www.skidmorecontemporaryart.com/ http://www.ericnashart.com/
all images courtesy Skidmore Contemporary Art
