My Last First Post of the Quarter

MAnd then I am no longer in school!

These classes will be an excellent way to wrap up my education. They are challenging, yet fun, and scary, yet exciting. I'm in my last English class of my life-- World Mythology-- which, so far, has been especially entertaining. Our book, "The Friendly Guide to Mythology," has short explanations of stories passed down in cultures across the globe and over the centuries. Some of them are surprisingly crass. Here is a short excerpt that had me laughing:

"The Narrinyeri of Southern Australia, an irreverent group, say that the Creator used excrement to form human beings. Afterward, he tickled them until they laughed and thus he brought us to life."

Now, is that how he did it? Funny we don't smell worse...

Anyway, not too much to show yet for my other two classes. In Getting Published (where we have actual clients and compete for the assignment), I have yet to be picked, but I do have a few sketches to show.


















Worcester Sketch 1, 2011.


















Worcester Sketch 2, 2011.

These were two different concepts (with the masthead mock-up) for Worcester Magazine's poetry contest special cover. The first is of the concept "word garden." The second is playing off of the idea of the metamorphosis of poetry. Neither were picked to take to final.

Charleston sketch, 2011.

For this piece, we were told exactly what the client (Charelston Magazine) wanted for their story on a trip through Italy: a spot of a couple walking down a path Wizard of Oz-style, holding a basket with salami and bread, and also some wine. The Italian hills would be clear in the background, and the path would be lined with Cyprus trees. Where they are stepping, the path turns into a map of Italy, with their destination of Spoleto clearly marked. It was a challenge! Even though I wasn't picked for this assignment either, I was pretty happy with my sketch.

And in Self-Promotion, we have only completed our Artist Statements (logos are in progress), so here goes:

Many people are bound to simply dream of exploring a career they are truly passionate about. I chose, a long time ago, to take the risks of pursuing that fantasy, and at this point, I could never imagine myself doing anything but illustration. Living through eyes trained to see aesthetics is a privilege that makes the world instantly more sentimental and filled with magic. My goal is to bring that sentimentality to others, that simple beauty which four years of art school has trained me to capture from my everyday life. More practically speaking, my goal is also to live a modest, comfortable, cozy, and colorful life creating illustration that, to be put most simply, makes people happy.

As I create any illustration, I always try to keep in mind my inspirations and references. I am continually looking to art created by illustrators in the 1950s and ‘60s, such as Disney concept artist Mary Blair, taking note of elements of the work that are still pleasing today. I also often reference current artists inspired by the same era, including Matte Stephens and Peter Brown. Following the research, my creative process moves quickly from start to finish. During the sketching stage, I hammer out important aspects of the work, such as composition. The character of my illustration truly lies in the color selections and handling of paint, however, where I spend the majority of my time. These are things that grow naturally as I work, and if I see the development as unsuitable for the assignment, I will likely start the piece over again. It is a priority of mine to not overwork a painting, because doing so diminishes the lively quality I am attempting to achieve. I want the work to appear effortless and simplistic, and never “trying too hard.” This is a partial cause of my love of dry-brushing techniques. The natural quality of a brushstroke is something I believe many people find comfort in. It is a subtle reminder of human hands at work, and creates beautiful imperfections that reflect life itself. I believe that art needs to be ever so slightly quirky to have a heartbeat, and I have always strived to create illustration that shows a steady pulse. My color choices are also a large part of my work’s energy and emotion, and with every piece I entertain complimentary selections. This is another area where I draw from “retro” illustration, finding color palettes that are instantly comforting because of their nostalgia. For me, the best tool to create perfectly opaque color is gouache paint. I use it with much less water than traditionally suggested, and paired with a perfectly destroyed brush, it creates texture faintly reminiscent of chalk pastel. This style of painting allows me to focus on a composition of shapes, rather than lines. Although sometimes challenging to achieve, I believe a successful silhouette is key to a thriving piece. All of these intricacies mixed with the childish nature of half my mind form an appropriate recipe for young and old viewers alike.

My purpose is to touch people through my creations, and I find that children are especially attracted to way I paint. If I can produce work that captures a moment in their life, whether that be through a storybook they cherish still as an adult, or a pattern on the baby blanket they cannot leave home without, I will feel complete. After spending enough time solidly in this style of illustration, I feel that my work and I are stepping in time with one another, neither dragging the other behind them. My relationship with my own illustration is much like the message I attempt to convey through it: relish the small moments, savor the silly, and find comfort in your own life. It is very much a truth that the years pass by too quickly, and I hope my work can slow the momentum down enough for some people to savor a few sweet moments.

And that's all I have to share for now! Keep checking for updates, because things will be changing quickly in the next 8 and a half weeks.

adios,
Caitlin

What is Art?

I have always worked at my full potential in my classes, despite my enthusiasm level for the assignment. Performing at my best is always the goal, and I am usually well recognized by my professors for this effort. Perhaps I've been spoiled to mild critiques, but a couple weeks ago I received the harshest response to my work I've experienced since my freshman figure drawing classes.

The professor I am taking Photographic and Digital Applications for Printmaking with is the same I took last quarter during Intermediate Lithography. We have always had a friendly relationship, and she seemingly enjoyed my work and dedication to the classes. I can strongly say that I am one of the more responsible students in nearly, if not all, the courses I have taken, and printmaking has been no exception. The technical issues are always difficult to slog through, but I never cut corners or give up, and I always turn in progress work, as well as the final, with all points checked off the list. Two Tuesdays ago was no exception, as we were having a progress critique on our newsprint proofs. Most of the class was absent, and of the few of us there, only about four including myself, had something to hang. I was the only student to hang three proofs, having success with all of my plates in printing. Naturally, I felt confident about the seemingly informal critique that day. At my turn, I briefly explained my piece, saying that I wanted to make something for a dear friend of mine who is having a baby soon, because it is exciting and the first person of my age I've known well to have a child.

My professor proceeded to delve into a lengthy explanation of distaste for not only this piece, but my entire body of work to-date. In front of the attending class, she unleashed an interrupted monologue discussing why "client-based" work is not "real" art. She told me that she would keep cutting me off when I tried to respond because she did not want me to defend myself. There were so many points made during those long, shocking minutes that I could never manage to repeat them all, but the general message was clear: I was not creating art because my work had a client in mind. She told me that I needed to create "selfish" work, that then it would be truly mine, and I had never successfully done anything this way. Apparently, if the outcome of the work is dictated by another person's taste, then its legitimacy is called into immediate question. The only words I got in edge-wise were to explain that the "client" never expressed any opinion on the final outcome because she was completely unaware of the project at all, seeing as how it was meant to be a surprise gift, and I had chosen everything on mine own, from the color, to the image and the concept. She said that did not matter, because the work was for someone else, and finally wrapped it up by glazing over the fact that my technical abilities were fine, and moved onto the next student.

After the critique was over, I attempted to move on by accepting her statement and continuing to work. I went into the hall to pick up supplies from my flat file drawer, and my professor followed me. She asked if I understood what she had said. Finally able to express myself, I said that I understood her point (which is true, I do agree that an artist should be getting something personally from their work), but I did not understand that I was not doing so in my own. I love creating work for other people, it makes me happy, and I have never felt incomplete in doing so. I argued that illustration is different because we have clients, to which she heatedly delved back into the same points once more. She told me that she once created work for others, and did not realize how unfulfilled she was until she stopped creating commercial art. She referenced the piece I made for my father, which was the closest I had gotten to success. I told her that ironically, I felt that the piece she mentioned was probably one of my least favorites visually, and she seemed to find that either pathetic or saddening. In an attempt to seem supportive rather than attacking, she told me not to be afraid to create "ugly" art, to stop playing it safe, and that she would not be telling me these things if she did not care (she told another student this almost verbatim in a later critique about the same issue). At this point in the conversation, I felt so confused and off-track that I became emotional, making my professor take the "uplifting and supportive" approach even more. The conversation ended on a accomplished note for her, and a defeated one for me. She tied it in a nice little bow by telling me that "in addition to illustration, [I] can be an artist." As if I am not one.

I spent the rest of the week feeling completely conflicted and generally off. It was such a struggle to first believe I was completely wrong in all my years creating art, or rather, not art, and to then realize that I am doing nothing wrong, and my professor is simply a person with an opinion. I had never experienced first-hand the looking down upon by fine artists onto illustrators. We are selling out and hopelessly uninformed in many of their eyes (I say many, not all, as I have plenty of painter and printmaker friends who have been entirely supportive about this situation). The hardest point to come to was understanding that a professor's word is not gold. They are here to help and teach, but because art is so subjective, they are not always right. I am creating art for myself, because making other people's hearts warm makes mine even warmer. So, I wrote this response in my artist's statement that was handed in with the final work:

" Nothing makes me happier than to see someone who has been moved by the art I create, especially if I create the art specifically for them. In general, nothing makes me happier than to make someone else happy. I do not see this as neglect for myself, but rather a selflessness that I can be proud of. Or perhaps it isn’t even selflessness, because I do get much out of my work. I have a passion for creating art that others can relate to, cherish and love. My work feels whole, exciting and new to me, and when I make art for someone I am close to, they share that feeling. That is why I chose to create a piece to give to a friend and soon-to-be-mother.
As well as always loving to show my warmth for others, I have also, since I was quite young, been fascinated with the connection between a woman and her child, and pregnancy in general. My friend Michelle is the first person of my generation that I have known well to carry a child, so it was very moving and monumental for me to observe her transformation. I wanted to create a work that she would forever be able to look at, with her baby Henry, and know the love and excitement I have for them. I feel I do not need to create deep-seeded symbolism in my art to express this, but instead pour the energy into the piece as I create it. If I care about the work, it is clear in the work. The imagery is straightforward, light, and jovial; a celebration, if you will, and an opening of arms. Michelle will know this, due to the way our lives are connected through friendship, and nothing fulfills me more than to solidify that by my craft. Perhaps any other onlooker would simply find the piece emptily “cute”, but that does not matter, because the work is not for them, but rather for Michelle and Henry, for me, and for us.
This piece is something I care about, just like the rest of my work, as I am always finding some source of excitement for every assignment I complete. I can feel the steady rhythm of my art, regardless of its purpose, and I feel whole because of it. I am confident in myself as an artist, illustrator, and printmaker, each of those titles being synonymous with the next. Aside from forever growing technical skill, I know I am doing everything the way I need to in order to be my happiest. My art is for me, and it is also for the people I keep in mind when I create it. This work, “Happy Birthday,” is no different than the spirit of my art previously, presently, or in the future, and it couldn’t make me a happier artist."

The next class I arrived early to finish up a few things that were due, and my professor found me. She said that my artist statement seemed really defensive. I told her that it was more of an explanation of the work, since I never had the chance to really express how important it was to me, and she went into the same discussion one final time. Thankfully, I was much stronger in my viewpoint by this time, because, despite its shorter length, this conversation was even harsher than the first two. She reiterated that she had created work for other people before, making "home decor, and [she'll] admit, it pleased [her] for a while," but then one day she realized she was not making real art, because it was not being selected or sold in galleries. She just wanted to tell me what she wishes someone had told her. I then realized that this issue was hardly about me at all.

And that, in her opinion, what defines art is its purpose and where its sold. Selfish gallery work is art, commercial work for other people is not. Therefore, I am not an artist.

Never before had I been scolded about not being selfish. It is such a baffling concept to me. I feel like it should be a good thing that I get as much joy as I do from pleasing others.

Never before had someone questioned my identity or career choice.

Never before had I been essentially told that I am not a successful artist.

Now I am stronger in my passion for what I do. Is this not paint on my desk? Are those not brushes in my box? Have I not been praised for the images I create by people who understand their purpose? Do I not create beautiful things with my mind and hands?

Does this not look like art to you, with its color, brushstrokes, and pattern?


"Happy Birthday," Lithography, 2011.

Does this girl not look like an artist, sitting at a desk full of fresh paper and supplies?



I think she does. I know she is. And I know that all things creatively made are art, whether that be paintings hung in a gallery, buildings on my street, the movie coming out this weekend, fabrics we wear every day, the book you are reading at night, or illustrations on a billboard advertisement. The purpose of the school I attend is to prepare creative careers from artistic skills. Your goal here is to be able to pay the bills doing something you love.

Be passionate about what you do, and never let someone tell you that it is invalid. If you create something, you are an artist. Just not a snob.

That's all for now,
adios
caitlin

And so we wrap up 2010.

2010 was an interesting year for me. It was straining and stressful, but full of growth and self-discovery. A lot of things I took for granted changed, and those changes made me open my eyes a little bit. I learned to accept people's faults, including my own, but also discovered when walking away from someone is the right choice. I shut down and woke back up again, I cried and laughed, I danced for days and woke up early. My art grew, my heart grew, and my body didn't. People helped me stand on my own feet, and I helped people stand on theirs. "Progress" would be the best word to sum up my year. 2010 was the conclusion to my life's Prologue, filled with love, laughs, pain, development, and a little foreshadowing. The changes most relevant to this blog, however, have to do with my artwork.
Here's a sample of what I made at the end of 2009:


"Big Fish," Digital, 2009.

I didn't even have a style yet! I will always be able to thank 2010 as the year of inspiration and finding an illustration identity.
Anywho, here's what I wrapped up the year with.
A quick piece for my old high school art teacher, Mr. Bates', Art for Life show to raise money with his class.


"Top Hat Cat," Gouache, 2010.

Sorry for the poor quality image-- we don't have a scanner at my parents' house.

The big project, however, was this:
An undertaking of epic proportions (something only I would be silly enough to take on)-- hand-painting each of our family Christmas cards. All 20 of them. In a matter of days. Let's just say, I felt a sense of accomplishment after I finished them. And some are quite cute! I made 4 each of 5 designs, to lessen the blow a little.



"Dove," Gouache and Sequins, 2010.



"Houses," Gouache and Sequins, 2010.



"Presents," Gouache and Sequins, 2010.



"Santa," Gouache and Sequins, 2010.



"Wise Men," Gouache and Sequins, 2010.

So yes, everyone got original art, and yes, I don't plan on doing that again. But I'm pretty pleased with the turnout, and pretty pleased with myself for doing it! And many thanks to my mom, who helped me glue those dang sequins on every card!

That's about all I've got for now. I hope everyone had a nice holiday, like I did. Spending time with my family is probably my number-one joy in life. Illustration is up there, too. :)

See you next year!
adios
caitlin

And so ends the most challenging quarter of my college career!

Hola!
Today was the last day of classes for the winter quarter of 2010. I can't believe I only have four more before I'm out of the nest and out on my own! What a scary and exhilarating thought... I'm really looking forward to the rest of school (this quarter I think was the beginning of the best classes yet) and looking forward even more to starting my life as an illustrator. I feel like all my little ducks are lining up just perfectly right now. It's official-- I'm going to New York this summer with SCAD for a week! We don't have a set itinerary just yet, but I will fill you in on all the juicy details as soon as I find out. I know we will be visiting big-name companies, meeting successful illustrators, showing off our portfolios, and seeing amazing artwork. It's going to be career and life changing! I can't wait. Also, I'm really pulling together my different styles now, and will be changing my website (yes, again) at the end of next week to fit those needs. I have about four styles going, but often they overlap-- printmaking (loads of patterns, usually relief prints), collage (strange papers and textures), flat qouache (vibrant colors and nice movement) and off-register qouache (pretty self-explanatory). I can't decide yet how I want to break up my website. Currently, it's by field of illustration, but I'm wondering if perhaps all my images should be on one page, or even broken up by style instead? Any thoughts?

Anyway, here's the last piece I did for the quarter. It's for a mock-up Rolling Stone cover. Mine is for Elvis Costello: Master of Wordplay. Get it, Scrabble is a word game? Har har. I'm so clever.



"Elvis Costello" 2010 gouache and ink

So I'm off for the week for some relaxing fun in this nice, new, warm and lovely weather! And when I come back, I'll have a brand-spanking new website, and three brand-spanking new classes.

NEXT TIME, ON JUST SOME ART, BY CAITLIN ALEXANDER:

WILL THE EIGHT-AM POSTER DESIGN FOR ILLUSTRATION CLASS BE TOO DIFFICULT TO WAKE UP FOR IN THE MORNING? UNLIKELY, CONSIDERING CAITLIN HAS HAD AN EARLY CLASS EVERY QUARTER.

AND WILL INTRODUCTION TO LITHOGRAPHY BE ANYTHING SHE EXPECTED? HARD TO SAY, SINCE SHE HAS NO IDEA WHAT TO EXPECT.

AND LASTLY, JUST HOW BORING WILL SURVEY OF ANCIENT ART AND ARCHITECTURE BE? HOPEFULLY NOT AT ALL, SINCE OLD STUFF IS COOL.

SEE YOU NEXT WEEK, ON JUST SOME ART, BY CAITLIN ALEXANDER.



Wow... time for bed.
adios
caitlin