Why are conceptual artists turning to painting?

I don't know. I didn't write this:

The dominant models no longer satisfy. It makes no sense to melodramatically invoke the "end of painting" (or any other medium-specific practice for that part) when the continous emergence of fascinating work obviously proves apocalyptic endgame scenarios wrong. (I WAS THINKING THAT THIS PAINTING WAS THE LAST PAINTING) Yet, to pretend it were possible to go back to business as usual seems equally impossible because the radical expansion of artistic possibilities through the landslide changes of the 1960s leave medium-specific practices in the odd position of being one among many modes of artistic articulation, with no preset justification (PAINTING IS A NEEDLE IN A HAYSTACK, BUT WE LIKE IT). How can we describe then what medium-specific practices like painting or sculpture can do today (THEY CAN BE AN OBSTACLE FOR A CONCEPTUAL ARTIST TO GET OVER AND THEY CAN BE PUT ON A WALL AND THEREFORE EARN SOME CASH)?

Likewise, it seems, that we can still not quite convincingly describe to ourselves what Conceptual Art can be: An art of pure ideas (ABSOLUTELY. ALSO IT IS REALLY FUN TO HAVE BIG IDEAS AND NOT HAVE TO DO ALL THIS WORK)? As if "pure" idea art were ever possible let alone desirable (UH)! An art of smart strategic moves and puns? We have advertising agencies for that (AND THEY ARE STAFFED BY ARTISTS WHO LIKE TO GET PAID). The social and political dimension of Conceptualism has been discussed, but often only in apodictic (A type of law, commandment, or prohibition that is unconditional, as in “Do not kill!”) terms, not acknowledging the humour, the wit, the existential, emotional or erotic aspects, as well as the iconophile, not just iconoclast motives, that have always also been at play in the dialectics and politics of life-long conceptual practices.

THAT WAS A STUPID BLURB FROM AN EMAIL TITLED 'WHY ARE CONCEPTUAL ARTISTS TURNING TO PAINTING?' AND I READ IT BECAUSE I WANT TO KNOW WHY. BUT I DO KNOW WHY. FOR ADAM.

I will finish this thing.

"I am so obsessed with this"

Meet Adam, the soon to be father of the post, post studio practice. He was quoted as being 'so obsessed with the blog' when I was attending Chrissy's (friend and patron) birthday party this last weekend. I find happiness in that.
I found myself talking about the painting a lot. I think it was a slow night for me, where it was best to stick to the facts. What do you do? 'Oh me? I am painting a still life for that guy over there sitting on the couch.'
Things got frisky when someone was courageous enough to access the blog on their iPhone. All bad feelings about Steve Jobs aside (besides, I have to be reasonable-- he stepped down, so he might have NOT RECEIVED my emails, mail art, and invitations, and thus THAT was why he hasn't responded) I felt like a celebrity having my bad renaissance painting all up in the party's digital landscape!


So, to all you empty walls out there, soon there will be an end to this loneliness and monotony! We will all find something beautiful and we will pound it into our surfaces, and we will be full. This might just be one painting, but to me it is a start of a revolution!

Details of progress

High Pressure Situation

Two days ago, Ms. Chrissy, patron and friend, attended a dinner hosted by me for her at my house. This evening was planned for purposes of 'catching up' as well as to show her my progress on the painting.
I was concerned about how she would receive my very slow and unpracticed painting style. I feel like I am painting every part of the painting like it is the first time I have ever painted that thing. Each grape is a revolution in representation.
One thing Chrissy saw that I thought was a very sensitive observation was that 'each brush stroke looks like it could change the feeling of the whole painting.' That's what makes painting really hard and really fun.
The good news is that Chrissy does like the painting so far. I feel that I have far to go, but I can never really tell, since I never really finish anything. Not so long ago a dear friend called me 'the girl who never finishes anything.' I really took this to heart, and it is the kind of thing that wakes me up in the middle of the night and makes me feel really really bad. But luckily I still finish my night of sleep. I can do that. And I always finish my dinner. And I even make my bed. But as art goes, for me, everything is an infinite process. I carry all my projects with me wherever I go. So, this project is great. I hope it is something I can finish and hand off with a sense of completion. This has been somewhat of an experiment on myself. If I can do this, I might be able to do everything else.This is Chrissy, as she self consciously salutes the painting. It is her birthday next week, and for the record, Vermeer is her favorite painter.

Laying in the fruits of my labor.

I started to sketch in the fruit today, a part of the process that I had been subconsciously afraid of. How do I know? It took me an hour of reading the news to get started on that part today. I was definitely procrastinating my pants off to avoid feelings of failure and the frustration of getting back to painting something recognizable. It isn't so bad so far, eh?

Fruit mash.

Truth be told, I have no interest in still life, but I am starting to figure out what I do value about them, even if it is all on a very small scale. I do not like Vermeer type rendering, I much prefer the Cezanne peaches at the bottom or the really plastic statue of a painting directly below. Does that make sense to say it looks like plastic? I like how static it is. It look like that fruit has been there forever, and it was always made out of rubber.

Back in the game.

That does not describe my general state of being, but more so the attempt that I am ready to make at being in a game of some sort. I am going to try to paint in some foreground stuff today. As usual, I am working on many projects at once, and so I feel a little uneasy just focusing on one thing at a time. I need more hands and more brains. However, it is very helpful to have something purely aesthetic and physical to work on today.
I alerted Chrissy, my patron, about the existence of this blog last Saturday when I began it. She has not responded with a resounding note of support or disgust. I bet she is busy, but I would think she should come see her painting-to-be before too long so any problems with the painting can be ironed out before they are burned in for good.

Day one of painting.

I don't have a palette set-up so every step is kinda nuts. I just ended up dumping out the silverware. It can live elsewhere.

And so here is the canvas. Primed linen bought in LA on sale. It is really nice and it makes a great sound when it is painted on. It is pulled so tight it is more like painting on heaven than fabric.
It took a while to put a brush in the paint. Scary.
This is the inaugural project of my new studio in my new house. This is where it will be born.

First I thought I would just lay down the background. Not because I want to be logical, but because I needed to start and I always found that painting fabric was pretty easy and instantly gratifying. The only problem is that I don't have any of my old tools. I gave them to an old roommate that wanted to be a painter because obviously I was never going to need them again. Now I realize I need a fan brush that is extra soft so that I can blend like a cuisinart on 2d mode.

I finished the top without much trouble, though I am sure I will have to go back into it once there are objects all up in it. The bottom white fabric was much more difficult. I think it looks like a shell instead of fabric. It is really easy for me to get all georgia o'keefe on this. Trying to keep it real renaissance.
Today I had one of the first actual experiences trying to figure out how to go back or remove this layer. No control Z on this bitch? Otherwise it's not so different from photoshop. It's just like a really really old version.

The still life.

I knew that working with lobsters was going to be a problem for me. I am pretty squeamish. I went to the pet store on Fulton in Bed-Stuy to borrow some little ones. I figured I could handle that. I got five. I named one Laser in honor of the late bat that kept me company in my college apartment in Madison. The others got names but that doesn't really matter now that they are back at the pet store.

It took me a whole day of shooting to get the photo I wanted to paint. The fruit kept getting foggy because it was so hot in my studio and the lobsters kept running away or getting dehydrated. I had to constantly rotate them out so that they didn't get cooked in the fluorescent light.

Art is such a gift.

Thank god for art. Without it, how would I give value to all the really important things I do?
I have been called a post studio artist. It isn't that I don't like to make things, but it is pretty easy to avoid it in honor of really courageous ideas that take up less space in storage. I have been talking and thinking a lot of art for the past few years, but have spent a fairly small amount of time in a studio making stuff, though I knew I really wanted to. I guess I never felt the excuse to. That is, until now.
In late May I received a challenge from a friend and art patron- we will call her Chrissy. She wanted to commission a painting by me (!?) for her boyfriend, who we will call Adam. It is now September 6, and I have just officially begun the painting process.
Chrissy had very simple requirements. She wanted a still life. The order went like this: a pineapple, apples, grapes, pears, and a lobster. Low, dramatic light. Realistic rendering. High renaissance in style.
I hope I can do it. I love to please. I love to make a deal. I need the cash. I needed an adventure.
This blog will chronicle the progression from verbal contract into art on the wall.
I dedicate the process documented on this blog to Adam, who shall be forced to receive this painting and to live with it until he chooses to relieve himself of it. May more than guilt hold the painting up on his walls.
Cheers!