Gina Brezini

Earliest known copy of Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa found at Spain's Prado Museum

2012-02-02T08:48:00.000-08:00

A copy of Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa that was painted at the same time as the original in the same studio is displayed at the Prado Museum in Madrid Wednesday Feb. 1, 2012. Spain's Prado Museum says the copy it has of Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa was painted at the same time as the original perhaps making it the earliest replica of the masterpiece. A museum spokeswoman said the work was painted side by side with the 16th century original that hangs in the Louvre in Paris and was done by one of Leonard's key students.

By: Daniel Wools, Associated Press

AP Photo/Paul White

MADRID (AP).- A "Mona Lisa" copy owned by Spain's Prado Museum was almost certainly painted by one of Leonardo da Vinci's apprentices alongside the master himself as he did the original, museum officials said Wednesday.
The stunning find of what the Prado now says is probably the earliest known copy of La Gioconda will give art lovers and experts an idea of what the Mona Lisa looked like back in the 16th century, said Gabriele Finaldi, the museum's deputy director collections.
"It is as if we were in the same studio, standing at the next easel," he told reporters.

The copy has been part of the Prado collection for years and displayed occasionally but no one paid much attention to it because around the woman in the Mona Lisa was a stark black background, not the pretty landscape seen in the original.

Two years ago, to get the copy ready for a da Vinci exhibit later this year in Paris, where the original hangs in the Louvre, tests were done and this gave restorers a hint that something lie under the black coat, which was added in the 18th century for reasons not fully understood.

When the black covering was removed, a Tuscan landscape very similar to the one in the original emerged.

And X-ray tests which allow experts to peek under a painting's surface to see how it developed as it was composed showed that changes made in the copy were similar to changes made to the original as it evolved.
Varnish has also been removed from the Mona Lisa's face, making it look brighter and younger than the face coated with cracked, darkish varnish at the Paris museum.
"You can imagine that this is what the Mona Lisa looked like back in the 16th century," Finaldi said.
Miguel Falomir, the Prado's director for Italian painting, said the copy gives art lovers and experts a chance "to admire the Mona Lisa with totally different eyes."
He and Finaldi said the museum's best guess is that the copy was done by a da Vinci apprentice named Francesco Melzi, because of the style observed in it.
Besides the black background, one other difference from the original is the woman in the copy has eyebrows and the Mona Lisa in the real masterpiece does not.

There are dozens of the surviving replicas of the masterpiece from the 16th and 17th centuries.
The Louvre supports the Prado's new evaluation of the painting, Finaldi said.
The Prado plans to put it on display later this month before it travels to France for the da Vinci show.
___

Ciaran Giles contributed to this report.

Copyright 2012 The Associated Press.

Amazing Paths of Life

2012-01-27T05:12:00.000-08:00

Courtesy of Siddharth Mukherji

This one is my favorite.

Beauty in every grain

2012-01-19T20:19:00.000-08:00

Beauty in every grain: For the first time remarkable photographs reveal hidden charms of ordinary SAND

By Daily Mail Reporter

Viewed at a magnification of over 250 times real life, tiny grains of sand are shown to be delicate, colorful structures as unique as snowflakes. When seen well beyond the limits of human eyesight, the miniature particles are exposed as fragments of crystals, spiral fragments of shells and crumbs of volcanic rock.

Professor Gary Greenberg who has a PhD in biomedical research from University College London said: 'It is incredible to think when you are walking on the beach you are standing on these tiny treasures.

Magnified:The grains are shown to be delicate, colourful structures each as unique as a snowflake.

Some of the rock is soluble, but other bits remain and as they are slowly rubbed down over time they get smaller and smaller until they become what we know as sand.

'Every time I look through my microscope I am fascinated by the complexity and individuality created by a combination of nature and the repeated tumbling of the surf on a beach.'

Prof. Greenberg, who searches through thousands of tiny rocks with acupuncture needles to find and arrange the most perfect specimens, then uses a painstaking technique to create his images. He has spent five years searching the globe for remarkable sand grains like these to photograph.

Colourful: The miniature particles are exposed as fragments of crystals, spiral fragments of shells and crumbs of volcanic rock.

HOW SAND IS MADE

Sand is tiny fragments of rock that have been worn away over thousands of years. Contrary to popular belief, sand is made as rocks crash and break in rivers and streams on their way to the sea, rather than the ebb and flow of the tides. Deposits left by breaking rocks in the sea turns to silt and is much lighter so is dispersed over a much wider area out to sea, rather than on the shore line.

Prof. Greenberg says: 'Extreme close up photography normally gives a very shallow depth of field so I had to develop a new process to make the pictures that I wanted.

'I take dozens of pictures at different points of focus then combine them using software to produce my images. Although the pictures look simple each grain of sand can take hours to photograph in a way that I am happy with. The beach nearest my lab is Haiku, Hawaii but my pictures show sand from all round the world from Japan to Ireland.'

His pictures are available from his website sandgrains.com and his book 'a grain of sand' which is available on Amazon.

Incredible: We are walking on 'these tiny treasures'

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-2011471/Pictures-sand-Close-photographs-reveal-incredible-beauty.html

This article fascinates me.

Тексаски вълнения

2012-01-17T05:09:00.000-08:00

Творческа командировка в Тексас. Като че съм имала нужда от усамотение и смяна на географското място. В следващата седмица домът ми ще е един малък, невзрачен хотел—без блясък и лукса, който обичам, но чист и по американски удобен. Даже има кухня в стаята, пералня в коридора и известна доза уют. Не видях нито един мъж в хотела—даже the bus-boy е жена! Почти срамежливо буташе количка натоварена с куфари, които отвеждаше в нечия стая. Усмихна се притеснено, когато се разминахме и я поздравих. На рецепцията—дружелюбно младо момиче, заменено от другa също толкова млада жена в следобеднта смяна. Няма тържествени мъже в костюми, обучени в хотелските дела, лъскави фоайета с импозатни букети и тълпи от туристи.

Вечерях в мексикански ресторант декориран с огромни картини с тематика от живота на маите, метални завеси с гигантски и почти кичозни “диамантени” черепи в иначе доста съвременния интериор—огромно пространство с неприлично високи тавани, тухлени стени и модерен бар, закрита градина и нарисувани китари по полираните дървени маси. Храната беше изумително вкусна, трътлестият сервитьор-педерас от мексикански произход—приятно усужлив и професионално сърдечен. Не допих прекрасната маргарита, не доядох огромната порция вкусна храна, не дочух тексаски акценти. Тръгнах си тъкмо когато ресторантът започна да се пълни с прииждащи младежи, влюбени двойки и групи от млади жени.

Утре ме очаква важен ден—“опитомяване’на галерийното пространство, което ще приюти картините ми в следващия месец. Важно е как ще ги разположа в пространството, за да има най-въздействащ ефект. Опитът ми от театъра е безценен—справяла съм се и с по-големи пространства. Гледам на галерията като на сцена, която ще трансформирам и оживя с визията си.

*****

Помня когато за пръв път се изправих пред празната сцена на хасковския театър. Рядко съм се плашила така. Стоях в тъмната зала и недоумявах как точно ще “запълня” това огромно пространство. Бях току-що завършила и малкия ми опит в професионален театър се свеждаше до проектиране на костюми. А сцената има други закони. Справих се тогава, ще съумея и сега. Галерията е просто едно сценично пространство, което ще трябва да “опитомя” и трансформирам с картините си—да го направя “мое”. Вчера беше първата ни среща. Харесвам пространството и енергията в него, а това е важно. От своя страна—собственикът на галерията, красивата галерина, с която живее, осветителя и гаджето му, трите им деца, художника от предишната изложба и няколко случайни посетители харесаха прясно разопакованите ми картини. Това е добър знак -- взаимно се харесваме. Днес ще трябва и пространството да ме хареса. Не мен, а картините. Аз само ще трябва да намеря ключа към него. Убедена съм, че пространствата също имат душа, скрити защитни механизми и характер към който винаги има ключ. Ще го намеря. Ще се споразумеем. Ще се заобичаме. Просто друга сцена—на тексаска земя. После ще дойде и публиката. И тя ще трябва да се приласкае и опитоми. Не че ще се опитвам да им се харесам—отдавна съм се отказала от това. Аз съм си аз. Картините ми са това, което са. Вписването им в пространството е важно, но вписването в душите на тези, които ги гледат е нещо, което не зависи от мен. От тях зависи. Аз само ще си свърша работата—ще дам най-доброто от себе си. Останалото ще се нареди. Вълнувам се. Като на първа среща—срещата с тексаската публика...

Казват, че една картина е завършена, когато художникът я подпише. Аз вярвам, че картината е завършена само когато другите я видят. Именно затова творците се чувстват толкова уязвими, когато излагат произведенията си—те рискуват да оголят душата си. Свикнала съм вече с уязвимостта. Има нещо прекрасно в нея—смелостта да си си ти, кавото и да кажат или мислят другите.

Днес ме очаква друг вид творчество—сценични решения, технически детайли и сработване с хората—неща, които умея. Ще осигурят и асистент, така че очаквам всичко да протече леко. Пристъпвам с любов и смирение към това, което носи тази седмица. И живота ми напред.

Умберто Еко: „България?! Там тези които мислят за бъдещето емигрират.“

2012-01-13T05:35:00.000-08:00

Във връзка с излизането на българският пазар на последната му книга „Пражкото гробище“, известният писател даде интервю за Дарик радио, в което между другото прави неприятни констатации относно родната действителност:

- Г-н Еко, след доста дълго забавяне на българският пазар ще бъде излезе вашата последна книга „Пражкото гробище“, която предизвика доста разгорещени реакции в редица западни държави. Защо се забави толкова издаването и в България?

- На този въпрос би трябвало да отговорят българските издатели, но аз лично не се учудвам. Наблюдавам вашата страна отдавна и знам, че тука нещата се случват или с голяма доза закъснение или изобщо не се случват.

- Какво имате в предвид, като казвате, че ни наблюдавате?

- Интересни сте ми. Виждате ли, навсякъде около вас ври и кипи, светът се променя. Свидетели сме на революции и протести, като започнем от арабския свят, минем през Щатите, Европа и стигнем до Русия. Хората се обединяват в опит да задават въпроси, да търсят отговори и да предизвикват промени. България е една от малкото страни в които някак си тези неща остават извън кадър и обществото не реагира или, ако го прави то е вяло и апатично, да не кажа безлично. По скоро някак си по задължение, а не с истински хъс и емоция.

Не градя впечатленията си само от последните години, но и от времето когато Източна Европа, преживяваше това, което сега преживява арабския свят. И тогава във вашата държава промяната премина някак си спокойно, лежерно, да не кажа, че това което трябваше да стори обществото, бе сторено от комунистическата върхушка. Вие бяхте и си оставате прецедент, властимащите свалиха сами себе си, пребоядисаха се и отново поеха управлението, докато обществото им ръкопляскаше по площадите, имитирайки някакви опозиционни митинги, дори не и протести.

Обществото ви прилича на подритван от тълпата човек, човек оказал се не по своя воля в центъра на протест, опитващ се да си пробие път през множеството, но вместо това понесен от него. Този, човек не знае на къде го водят, не знае какво се случва, не желае да участва в този протест, но не знае как да излезе от тълпата. Единствената му цел е да се отскубне и да намери сигурно място, откъдето да може да наблюдава ставащото, но не и да участва.

Ако погледнем държавата ви, като цяло, то тя привлича внимание именно със странното сокойствие царящо в нея. Независимо, какво, къде, как и защо се случва, това сякаш не оказва особенно влияние върху България. Реакция няма. Прилича на смъртник, чакащ примирено съдбата си, такава каквато бог му я е отредил.

- Не сте ли прекалено черноглед? Не мислите ли, че България всъщност е в ролята на мъдреца наблюдаващ от висотата на своето познание, случващото се в света, осъзнал, че всичко е суета на суетите?

- За съжаление не. Според мен България е една умираща, изчезваща държава, чието общество е загубило способността си да реагира адекватно на наглостта на подлеците, наметнали върху си наметалата на демокрацията и пазарната икономика, и представящи се за политици и бизнесмени. Нима е възможно в 21 век, в пределите на Европа, изграждането на пътища и метро да бъде считано, като огромно постижение, откриването на пречиствателни станции, обновяването и ремонтирането на различни сгради да бъде значимо събитие? Та това са нормални функции на държавата. Какво значимо достижение е това да асфалтираш път, докато другите строят космодруми, изследват космоса, създават иновации и развиват модерни технологии? Можеш ли да се хвалиш, че по улицата няма дупки, докато по тротоарите не можеш да вървиш? Че строиш църкви, а закриваш болници? Че прокарваш пътища, докато се обезлюдяват градове и села?

Не е тайна, че вие се топите. И то не бавно и полека, а със скорости огромни в исторически план. Вие сте единствената държава в Европа, която действително е заплашена от изчезване, и дори наименованието България да продължи да съществува, то хората населяващи тази територия надали ще имат нещо общо с българите, или ако имат то ще толкова, колкото общо имат българите с траките. Такъв процес на изчезване на дадена нация е рядкост да се наблюдава, особенно в съвременният свят, затова и вие представлявате интерес за редица изследователи и за мен в частност.

- Нима наистина смятате, че обществото ни е неспособно да излъчи хора, които да променят това апокалиптично бъдеще, което описахте?

- От това, което виждам, не бих могъл да ви обнадеждя. Обществото и не само вашето се дели на три части: Такива, които са забили поглед в миналото; Такива които живеят изцяло в настоящето и такива които гледат в бъдещето. Тези които са се втренчили в миналото, се гордеят с постиженията на предците си, но са неспособни да им подражават, именно защото живеят с миналото и не осъзнават реално протичащите промени около тях. Те дърпат страната назад, искат да върнат това което е било, но нещата се променят и това което е вършило работа вчера, днес я спъва. Ако вашият княз Борис бе като тях, то надали щяхте да имате азбука и собствена писменост.

Тези които живеят в настоящето, те се интересуват само от себе си, ден за ден, всеки ден. Едни заради бедност – душевна и материална, други заради алчност! Едните са обзети от страх, стрес и апатия, а другите от корист, завист и жажда за плътски удоволствия! Те смятат, че парите са основното средство което ще реши проблемите им, ще им даде сигурност и стабилност. Те са жертва на промените и вярват, че с пари могат да си осигурят един остров на спокойствието, където спокойно и блаженно да изживеят дните си, без да се налага самите те да се променят. Те живеят в безвремие, в едно безкрайно тягостно настояще, вкопчили се в днешният ден, страхуващи се от утрешния. От тях не можеш да очакваш нищо, те не могат да се борят, защото не знаят за какво.

Тези които живеят с мисълта за бъдещето, те са хората които движат света. Те осмислят това което е било и това което е в момента, и чертаят пътя на бъдещото развитие. Те са откривателите, мислителите и идеолозите на обществото. Те са строителите на новите обществени взаимоотношения, на хуманизма. Те са тези които търсят смисъла на живота.

За съжаление, при вас тези които гледат към бъдещето, са подложени на убийствен натиск, да бъдат претопени в останалите две групи. На тях не им се дава поле за изява, нямат възможност да развият и реализират идеите си. Тези хора обаче, не приемат и никога не са приемали с примирение наложените им ограничения, и не са се поддавали на натиска на апатичната маса. Те търсят място, където могат да осъществят мечтите си, без да се страхуват от неизвестното, без да се задоволяват с илюзорната моментна сигурност. България не е това място – Там тези които мислят за бъдещето емигрират! А тези които останат, биват смазани.

Пагубното за България е, че нейните управници са само люде, принадлежащи на първите две групи. Те дават за пример миналото, без да имат поглед върху бъдещето. Те следват, чужди указания, чужди напътствия и служат на чужди интереси, в името на собствената си настояща моментна облага. Те са празни, кухи, безидейни. Те сочат грешките на миналото, за да оправдаят настоящето, докато се страхуват от бъдещето. Това е вашият елит.

- Това ли е единственото което виждате в България, нима няма оптимистична теория?

- Всъщност има. Може би България е първата глобална държава. Тя ще е първата която ще се разтвори в новия свят, и нейните чеда гледащи в бъдещето ще станат водачи на земното население. Виждаме, че доста българи и хора с български корени, заемат престижни политически и научни постове в целия свят. Един ден светът ще бъде обединен в една общност – планетата Земя и можеби българите са тези които поставят началото на този процес, давайки пример на целия свят със спокойното приемане на смъртта на националната си държава. Българите няма да умрат, не и тези които гледат в бъдещето, те просто ще се наричат земляни.

Posted by chergar in Политика, култура, образование, общество, философия

http://neverojatno.wordpress.com/2012/01/12/eko/

Pазтърсващо писмо на Бетовен

2012-01-11T06:49:00.000-08:00

Откриха разтърсващо писмо на Бетовен

http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=1791926273794293848http://www.standartnews.com/lyubopitno-lyubopitno/otkriha_raztarsvashto_pismo_na_betoven-129454.html

Снимка: Интернет

Берлин. Институтът "Брамс" в германския град Любек получи като дарение разтърсващо писмо, написано от Лудвик ван Бетовен, съобщи Ройтерс. Писмото е от шест страници. То е подписано от композитора и носи неговия печат. По същество е написано, за да намери купувач на известната "Тържествена меса", която е завършена през 1823 г. В него Бетовен моли арфиста и композитор Франц Антон Стокхаузен да му помогне да я продаде.

Най-голямо впечатление обаче правят подробности за живота на композитора - за финансовите му проблеми и за очна болест, както и опитът му да открие зъболекар, който бил почитател на музиката и му написал писмо.

"Ниската ми заплата и болестта ме карат да правя усилия, за да имам повече пари", пише Бетовен. Тогава той е на 53 години. Буквите са наклонени надясно. Почеркът е неравен. Писмото е с поправки и задрасквания.

"Пишете ми "До Л. в. Бетовен във Виена". Така получавам всичко", завършва той. Писмото е пожълтяло от времето и трябва да се съхранява при специални условия. То е било собственост на учителката по музика Ренате Вирт, която е наследничка на първоначалния получател.

"Дарението е с изключителна историческа стойност - истински късмет за института "Брамс" - каза неговият директор Волфганг Зандбергер. - Цената му е над 100 000 евро."

Бетовен умира през 1827 г. във Виена, четири години след като пише писмото.

****

Eееееех, значи много не се е променило! И той - Великият - имал проблеми с финанси и здравеопазване! Не съм сигурна дали тази мисъл ме тревожи или утешава...

Сигурно един ден ще събират и номерират и нашите писма, апликации за грантове и молби за парична помощ, в опит да възстановят детайли от битието на един отминал живот.

Solo exhibition

2012-01-10T02:49:00.000-08:00

Both Sides of the Window

new paintings by Gina Brezini

January 21 - February 18, 2012

Opening reception for the artist on Saturday, January 21, 2012, 7-10 PM

Lytle Pressley Contemporary Gallery in Austin, TX.
1214 W 6th Street, Austin TX 78703
+1.512.469.6010

The Face of Forgiveness 3' x 9'

Please forward this to friends and people you may know in Austin. Thanks.

I’m ending this year with love

2011-12-31T05:45:00.000-08:00

As Tama Kieves says—there is no New Year without a blessed year before it. I would like to part with 2011 with the following words:
“I bless this year of my life. I bless all that it offered me. And I bless all that I received. I am grateful for this year of my life. I thank myself for everything I tried, regardless of whether it worked. I thank myself for the times I believed in myself, even if I couldn’t sustain it for as long as I would have liked. I thank myself for the times I got it right. I thank myself for the times I stretched. I thank myself for the times I was generous with myself and others. I thank myself for the times I invested in my dreams. I thank myself for the times I spoke my truth. I thank myself for the times I hunted for my truth.”

I thank myself for allowing myself to love, and for allowing others to love me. I thank myself for allowing myself to receive what I desire. I thank myself for the risks I took and for the promises I kept. I thank myself for investing in my Self, in my art and in my passions. I thank myself for relentlessly following my path and continuing to move forward. I thank myself for bravely stepping over obstacles and building the life I truly love. I thank myself for making more courageous choices. I thank myself for opening my heart and for taking care of my body and spirit. I thank myself for allowing myself to feel and express freely. I thank myself for being honest with myself, yet treating myself gently. I thank myself for learning to communicate in more effective ways. I thank myself for trying new ways of being. I thank myself for adopting new beliefs. I thank myself for learning and growing. I thank myself for continuing to side with my own strength and light. I thank myself for learning to trust myself, my life and my spirit. I thank myself for choosing to live an inspired life. I thank myself for the way in which I respond to the people and circumstances in my life. And I thank my family, my clients and friends for offering so much love and support and for being such a wonderful part of my life. I thank the people and resources that showed up, even if for an instant. I thank myself for everything I have accomplished, but most of all -- for who I have become.

I’m ending this year with love. For how we end this year is how the new one will begin.

Изпращам тази година с любов

2011-12-30T03:56:00.000-08:00

Както казва Тама Кийвс--не може да пристъпиш в Новата Година без да благословиш отминалата. Искам да изпратя 2011 със следните думи:

Благославям тази година от живота си. Благославям всичко, което тя ми донесе. Благодарна съм за всичко, което се опитах да направя -- независимо дали беше успешно или не. Благодарна съм за моментите, в които вярвах в себе си -- даже когато не успявах да ги задържа толкова дълго колкото ми се искаше. Благодарна съм за всичко, в което сполучих. Благодарна съм за всеки път, в който разширих границите на възможното. Благодарна съм за всеки път когато успях да съм щедра към себе си и към другите. Благодарна съм за времето, което вложих в осъществяването на мечтите си. Благодарна съм за моментите, в които изказах това, което е важно за мен. Благодарна съм за времето, в което търсех своята истина.

Благодарна съм, че си разреших да обичам и позволих на другите да ме обичат. Благодарна съм, че си разреших да получавам това, което искам. Благодарна съм за рисковете, които поех и за обещанията, които удържах. Благодарна съм, че инвестирах в себе си, в изкуството си и в мечтите си. Благодарна съм, че преодолях препятствията, следвах избрания от мен път и продължих да вървя напред. Благодарна съм, че съумях да направя смели избори. Благодарна съм за това, че отворих сърцето си и продължих да се грижа за тялото и духа си. Благодарна съм, че чувствам. Благодарна съм, че съм честна със себе си и с другите, без да се оправдавам или виня. Благодарна съм, че се научих да комуникирам по-успешно. Благодарна съм, че опитах нови начини на съществуване. Благодарна съм, че замених старите модели с по-подходящи. Благодарна съм, че научих нови неща, които ме правят по-добра. Благодарна съм, че продължих да се съюзявам със силата и светлината в мен. Благодарна съм, че се научих да вярвам на себе си, на живота и на духа си. Благодарна съм, че избрах да живея вдъхновен живот. Благодарна съм за начина, по който реагирам на хората и обстоятелствата в ежедневието ми. Благодарна съм и на моето семейство, колеги, приятели и клиенти, които ми дават толкова много любов и подкрепа. Благодарна съм за хората и ресурсите, които се появявиха в моя живот -- дори ако е временно. Благодарна съм за всичко, което постигнах и осъществих, но най-много съм благодарна, че ставам такава каквато съм.

Изпращам тази година с любов. Защото начина, по който завършим отминалата година е начина, по който ще започне новата.

2011

2011-12-28T05:06:00.000-08:00

2011 was very generous to me. It brought me new love, abundant opportunities, a wonderful assistant, profound shifts, many new friends, exhibitions and awards. It taught me about risk, trust, vulnerability, loving and living from my true Self. It brought much joy and opened up my heart to give and receive. It taught me what happiness is and how to experience it daily. It dissolved old ties that were no longer healthy and it formed new partnerships instead. It was a year of release, valuable learning and new beginnings. It was a year of making bold strides forward and manifesting my dreams. It was a year of releasing old fears and replacing them with faith. It was a year of cleansing mental clutter, deep emotional healing and seeing the world through new lens. It was a year of new and exciting experiences.

I am grateful for the numerous gifts that 2011 brought to me. I am ready and willing to receive and enjoy the expected and unexpected blessings, opportunities and miracles that 2012 has for me.

Winter Solstice Incident

2011-12-23T00:20:00.000-08:00

I just witnessed a street fight. On the SW corner of Amsterdam and 81^st, a few meters in front of me four guys suddenly tangled their bodies into a single knot of aggression. At first I thought they were all fighting. Soon I realized that two of them were in conflict and the other two are trying to set them apart. A contemporary duel, in which two men were the adjutants and the other two were about to kill each other over some probably insignificant thing. I halted in my steps and I just stood there—afraid to come too close and terrified that they will hurt each other. Soon the guys were exchanging serious blows and banging each others' heads into the monstrous 4 wheel-drive truck parked by the sidewalk. It was raining heavily. As one of the guys charged to hit the other, he slipped and fell down in the slimy mud of the wet New York street. The other took advantage of this temporary weakness and pointed his aggression back at him. But he slipped too. Now they were both rolling on the ground, followed by the “referees”—their two friends who were seemingly trying to separate them, but got hit in the melee too. I had an instant image of gladiators’ fights—the contemporary ones, fighting in mud on television. I noticed the crowds beginning to gather at the corner across the street—all men—a mere spectators hesitant to cross the street and get too close. Perhaps, like me, they were afraid. Another group of tough looking men came out of the local bar to get a smoke and I hoped they would try to separate the drunken youths. Instead, they found a comfortable position under the awning and began to cheer—as if they were at a boxing match. Soon I heard the group across the street cheering too. There was quite a crowd by now, which, for my dismay, remained at a safe distance. Soon I saw the lights of digital cameras, videotaping the fight. But I saw no attempt to help the fighters stop. The struggle was getting vicious. The long-haired chap, now freed of his t-shirt, which the other clawed off his back, got on top of his opponent and began hitting his face with his fist—as he’d seen in the movies. There was no sound of special effects and I could sense the hesitation of his fists. He seemed unsure of how to do something like that—it was real life after all, and it was happening to him! Soon they were standing up again. The “adjutants” managed to separate them for a brief moment, pushing them apart from each other. The long-haired guy, bare-chested, all muddy and soaking wet by now, had regained his confidence from the recent fist success and violently pushed with both hands his own friend, using the weight of his entire body. This single gesture conveyed the clear message: Get out of my way, I’ll kill the guy. I couldn’t tell if this was his real intent, or simply the expected “manly” thing to do. They were tangled once again—this time with the renewed enthusiasm to prove who is a real man. It was getting ugly—I could hear the bangs of sculls on the pavement, cracking of bones and the heightened voltage of male ego in action. I was witnessing pure instinct at play—what I call “human animal”. I wondered if any of them knew at this point why they are fighting. Yet, they could kill themselves—the aggression was increasing with each blow. Now the other guy was “winning”. The spectators laughed, cheered, filmed and bellowed encouraging shouts at the four shadows in fight. I clung to my umbrella, with a hand over my heart. I had the powerful urge to call the police, but I realized that I had left my phone at home. Four people were hurting each other right in front of my eyes, and I didn’t know how to stop it. It was frightening and intense. A few times I let out a desperate “NO!!!” and a futile “STOP!” But my tiny voice was lost in the growls of male encouraging roars. Feeling helpless, I began to pray. “Bless them. Send them light. Please take them apart, dear God! DO SOMETHING!” A few moments later, miraculously, the fight stopped—as suddenly as it had started. Two of the guys withdrew behind the corner and the other two remained on that side. The “adjutant” took off his sweater and pulled it over his friend’s naked chest. The other did the same with “his” guy. Perhaps exhausted by now, and safely separated by the walls of the same corner, the main ”heroes” were examining their wounds...

What astonished me the most was the non-action of the quickly gathered crowd. Perhaps it’s a cultural thing, or just the times in which we live. In Bulgaria—all the men would have instantly gotten involved. But here, the well-exercised guys with bulging gym-pumped muscles just stood at a safe distance, watching and videotaping the incident. Why?

New Painting

2011-12-01T08:06:00.000-08:00

I just finished this new painting.

Leo Castelli's Cache Of Art-History Gold By DANIEL GRANT

2011-11-20T03:41:00.000-08:00

Leo Castelli's Cache Of Art-History Gold

By DANIEL GRANT

Washington

A little late, but here's the news. In 1960, Count Giuseppe Panza di Biumo, a renowned Italian postwar art collector, complained that the $3,500 price of Robert Rauschenberg's painting "Winter Pool" was too high. In a letter, the count told Manhattan art dealer Leo Castelli to "reduce your price," but Castelli would not budge, writing back three days later to say that the demand for Rauschenberg's paintings "is very great because, with Jasper Johns, he is now considered the best painter of the younger generation." Panza got the message, as he soon became a major buyer of Johns, Rauschenberg, Roy Lichtenstein and other artists Castelli championed.

Archives of American Art. Smithsonian Institution

The famed art dealer in 1978. Castelli Gallery's records can now be viewed at the Archives of American Art.

Don't thank Wikileaks for this insider tidbit. The Castelli's family donated the records of his gallery, which he founded in 1957 and ran until his death in 1999, to the Washington-based Archives of American Art in 2007, and after three years of organizing and sorting more than 400 linear feet of primary source materials—now stored in rows and rows of boxes, each categorized by subject and filled with chronologically listed papers in acid-free file folders—the Archives at last made them available earlier this year for researchers and the general public to examine.

Castelli was reluctant to throw anything away. Among the papers are sales records for every artwork sold by the gallery during the dealer's lifetime; correspondence with its artists (including John Chamberlain, Dan Flavin, Johns, Ellsworth Kelly, Lichtenstein, Robert Morris, Bruce Nauman, Rauschenberg, James Rosenquist, Ed Ruscha, Richard Serra, Frank Stella and Andy Warhol) and with collectors; published reviews of each of the gallery's exhibits; and photographs of anyone associated with the gallery.

From the late 1950s through the '70s, the Leo Castelli Gallery was perhaps the most prominent commercial venue for art in the world. "Leo Castelli introduced and supported a stable of artists—the Pop artists, the minimalists, the conceptualists, mostly American but also some avant-garde Europeans—who were the most important artists of that period and who changed the direction of art," said Rauschenberg biographer Calvin Tomkins. Castelli "had a good eye for art and, maybe more importantly, a good ear for listening to artists when they talked about the developing art scene."

The documents reveal that Castelli did a lot more than just promote his artists' work and stand up to discount-hungry collectors. The dealer, who was born Leo Krausz in 1907 in Trieste (he took his mother's maiden name to conceal his Jewish ancestry), tended to the smallest details of his artists' lives, at one point reinstalling Rauschenberg's telephone and renewing the insurance on his Jeep. "I hope the washing machine is in working order by now," Castelli wrote Johns in 1964. "I started taking care of the car problem a while ago."

There is correspondence of all types. In a 1971 letter, Stella firmly let collectors Murray and Ruth Gribin know through his lawyer that he was not OK with their cutting a 1968 acrylic painting in half so it would fit on adjoining walls in their new home. (The picture stayed intact.) In 1960, Dadaist Marcel Duchamp requested Castelli's participation in the "Arts Committee for American Chess" (the dealer wrote back that "I shall be honored and delighted to join"). Preparing for a gallery exhibition of his paintings in Tokyo in 1964, Johns wrote to Castelli that "my work has the misfortune of being very 'famous' without anyone ever having seen it."

In its own way, that comment reflects one of Castelli's most important innovations as a dealer, according to Mr. Tomkins. "He shared his artists with other dealers in the U.S., Europe and Asia, which helped them develop important reputations right away in other countries," he said.

The Archives of American Art were founded in 1954 by Edgar P. Richardson, then director of the Detroit Institute of Art, who was frustrated in his attempts to research certain American artists whose papers had seemingly vanished. The Archives now contain over 5,500 document collections, including those from artists Milton Avery, Romare Bearden, Isabel Bishop, Alexander Calder, Thomas Eakins, Jacob Lawrence, Louise Nevelson, Jackson Pollock and Grant Wood; in all, there are 16 million letters, diaries, photographs, audio and video recordings, scrapbooks, manuscripts and financial records of artists, critics, dealers, collectors and scholars. Papers are cataloged, microfilmed and stored.

In 1970, the Archives became a bureau of the Smithsonian Institution. (In 2005, when the Archives received a $3.5 million grant from the Terra Foundation, it begun digitizing its holdings.) There is a regional office in New York City, and copies of the Archives' unrestricted microfilm may be viewed at the Boston Public Library, the Amon Carter Museum in Fort Worth, Texas, the de Young Museum in San Francisco and the Huntington Library in San Marino, Calif.

The Washington office gets the most visitors (1,500 in 2010), and nearly two million individuals world-wide accessed material available in digital form through the Archives' website. The majority of users, Mr. Smith noted, are from academia, but "we are also heavily used by private collectors, art dealers and auction house staff. Strangely, we also have several genealogists tracking down family members."

The Archives' oral-history project currently contains over 2,000 interviews with artists, collectors and dealers. Castelli was interviewed in 1969, 1973 and 1997. During these interviews (transcripts of which are available online) he mentions how being inspired by someone's artwork led him to represent certain artists ("My enthusiasm for Stella was similar to that which I had for Johns"); his reasons for not representing certain artists (Lucas "Samaras never interested me. No, no. I found him sort of more fascinating as a personality than his work"); his artists' varying interest in the art business ("Stella, for instance, always wanted to be very independent and do his own thing. Others like Rauschenberg, he doesn't really want to make any kind of arrangement himself. . . . Johns also has been amazingly uninterested in doing things for himself"); and frank descriptions of his most avid collectors ("a tremendous stress occurred when the Tremaines got something that the Sculls wanted very badly. But again, there are some really very primitive compulsions there") and fellow dealers.

Castelli also discloses that "in the beginning, I must say I was rather ashamed of doing business. It didn't seem to me . . . even a gentlemanly occupation. I had some kind of a stupid attitude that you find in Europe. . . . Now I do a thing of business pretty well, like everybody else, and don't consider it anymore something that a gentleman should not indulge in. The whole concept of the gentleman seems to be very much in question these days."

Mr. Grant is the author of "The Business of Being an Artist" (Allworth)

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703960804576120434103905642.html

Gina Brezini: Art in Different Dimensions - magazine interview

2011-11-09T05:32:00.000-08:00

Gina Brezini: Art in Different Dimensions

The interview is lead by Maria Toneva

The contemporary art world knows you as Gina Brezini. Who was Gina before leaving Bulgaria, and who is she now?

I was a timid and curious child. I had very few toys and I learned to entertain myself while my parents were working. I loved to paint. I loved to dress in improvised costumes, then dance and sing. I loved change. But most of all I loved Sofia after rain. I could stand for hours among the hurried pedestrians and watch the magical stains of petrol changing their colors in the puddles around the parked cars. I feel that this is what I am still doing today—I notice the beauty in the muddy waters of life.

I believe that the artist’s purpose is to show others what is unnoticed by them. So I was not surprised when I found myself in the High school of Arts. Because my child’s specialty was The Magical, it seems natural that I later chose Theater as my major in the temple of the arts—The National Academy of Fine Arts in Sofia. I graduated in the class taught by professor Asen Stoychev. This amazing man was the first person who believed in me. He gave me the wings with which I continue to fly today, around the world. Due to him, still a student, I began to work in professional theaters and my projects were shown in the International Quadrennial in Prague. Again due to him, I designed the costumes for La Gioconda in Plovdiv National Opera House, in collaboration with his set designs. I feel that professor Stoychev’s support and his unyielding faith in my abilities gave me confidence in these important initial years and formed me as an artist. I always remember that who I am today, is to big extent, because of this incredible teacher and the first creative experiences, which I hold sacred in my heart.

Shortly before I left for the USA, I met the amazingly talented theater director Stavri Karamfilov for whose close friendship I am grateful till today. Together, we staged the plays Oedipus Rex and Antigone at the Blagoevgrad Drama Theater. We also collaborated on the musical Love’s Labors Lost, with music by Lyubomir Denev, in Camera Opera House in Blagoevgrad. These were my last projects in Bulgaria.

In the USA I am a visual artist.

I feel that there is no big difference—in Bulgaria, as well as in New York, I am making art. Regardless of genres and geography, my constant aim is to do what I believe in, and to give the best of myself.

What was New York’s first challenge for you as an artist? What is the recipe for success in a city like this?

The initial and utterly painful challenge in New York was the necessity to disconnect from the past. It was needed so I can survive in the new surroundings and adapt to a vastly different culture. I didn’t know anybody. During the day I worked in order to survive. I was going to bed with swollen ankles, exhausted by hard work and walking on foot. At night I read haltingly, but adamantly. With the help of a dictionary, I attempted to learn some simple phrases. Invariably, and in spite of grammatical mistakes and incredibly limited vocabulary, which made me feel like a moron, I forced myself to participate in primitive dialogues with the handful of new acquaintances. I sensed that only if I could manage to express myself with the ease with which my thoughts flew, I would be able to accomplish what I have come for. I was determined to learn to speak this language perfectly and to make my way through the frightening and unfamiliar jungle of my new fate. It took some time and a whole river of lonely tears, but gradually I began to think, and even dream in English. Step by step, I made new friendships, surrounding myself with interesting, intelligent and talented people. I believe that this initial acclimatization took about five years, although I am still expanding my knowledge and the circles of valuable friendships and connections. I was lucky—perhaps because I fiercely believed in myself, in my abilities, and in my capacity for success. I lived with the unwavering conviction that I have an important and unique mission to fulfill. I held my focus on these thoughts. I was grateful for everything that I have learned in Bulgaria and here I began to appreciate the education I have received in my motherland, and the invaluable support of friends and colleagues, which I was missing in America.

Shortly after my arrival in New York, almost by accident, I found myself in a mural painting studio. They hired me, even though I had neither documents nor a resume. But I had the courage to try. Instead of the obligatory portfolio, I timidly pulled out of my pocket a stack of black and white photos, taken back home with a borrowed antiquated Leica. My English was so non-existent that I understood neither what was expected of me, nor what my salary would be. During a few sleepless nights I have put together a couple of clumsy questions, with the help of the dictionary. But I was unprepared for the answers: all the explanations for the terms of the job and my responsibilities, sounded like a single endless word. I understood nothing. I was speechless, but my perceptions were impeccably alive. I trusted them because it seemed to me that I had no other choice. One of the few words I knew was YES. I said YES to everything. Perhaps this is the secret of success. I now trust my intuition unquestionably, and I consciously say YES to Life, to my Self, to my dreams, to the changes that frighten me, to everything new, which enters my life, and my art. I say YES despite the fears.

When I first came to New York, the city was exceptionally diverse mixture of various strange, picturesque, interesting and dangerous things. The contrasts were striking, the streets dirty, and the assortment of bizarre people and disquieting sights impossible to describe in short. But in the inimitable atmosphere of the city, there was a distinct and peculiar magic—a delightful sense of freedom, a promise for authentic personal expression and the enchanting mystery of the unknown. Added to this was the startling for me experience to talk to strangers who were driven by the notorious American ease for meeting new people and a child-like curiosity about Bulgaria. Almost effortlessly I found myself in the midst of the artistic circles. Suddenly I was in the center of unceasing and picturesque vortex of experiences, followed by introductions to interesting people. It turned out that it’s quite easy to share a glass of wine in SoHo in the company of world famous artists, over whose works I was daydreaming about, in high school, while leafing through the paint-stained pages of a forbidden book on contemporary western art. Here, all I had to do was to show up at the art openings in SoHo in order to meet effortlessly my old-time favorites like Jasper Jones, Frank Stella, John Updike, Dennis Oppenheim, Marina Abramovic, Motherwell, Raushenberg, Yoko Ono, Christo. New idols showed up as well, and the interactions with them gradually grew into friendships, which I value and maintain until today.

Today New York is not a city of art. It is a financial center, which doesn’t encourage and support its artists. There are no established traditions, which stimulate or support the need for art. Gone are the few programs funding the creative. The painters themselves have settled out of the city. The artist studios and former galleries in SoHo, which sheltered world-famous names of contemporary art were converted into restaurants and fashionable brand-name stores. The consumerism triumphs, giving up the arts for full stomachs and voluminous shopping bags stuffed with luxurious items—creating the illusion of satisfaction and filling the void of life lived without soul. In this reality, to continue making art and to preserve my authentic creative identity remains a challenge.

The challenges of Art never seize. With every accomplishment, the bar raises more and demands new skills and a new dose of courage. One of the many things I learned from my professor in the Academy was not to rest on old laurels. Creativity cannot be static. This turns it into mere craft. I believe that I will aim for new and different things until my last breath. I will relentlessly continue to turn my questions into art. Success is not in the accomplished, but in the road that leads to it.

How to succeed in New York? There is no formula for success. But when the chance comes, one must recognize it and ride it, without hesitation. It’s essential to continue making one step in the desired direction today, another one tomorrow, and every day. It’s important to believe in yourself and to keep going forward. One must sustain one’s faith. I trust that this is valid for every success. The only difference is that in New York the pace and the voltage are more intense.

In one interview you say that you don’t believe in the romantic myth for the Creative Muse. What are your rules for making art?

For me Art is a daily ritual, a sacred practice—like yoga, like the expansion of the intellect and the maintenance of a healthy physical body; like the zeal for the upliftment of the spirit. Art demands discipline and perseverance, but also flexibility, playfulness, the ability to listen to what is present, and to follow it. The Creative Muse visits those who are in the studio daily; those who are not afraid to try something new; to expand the boundaries of their own artistic and emotional comfort, and to step into the zone of the Unknown. The Creative Unknown. The Muse doesn’t come to the artist; the artist goes to her! This is a daily stride into the “zone”—like in Tarkovsky’s film Stalker it does not accept just anyone. There are no rules in the making of art. But there is a rampant necessity to create. I believe that the Creative Muse is that necessity.

In your works painting, sculpture, photography and installation are in direct dialogue. They create a new form of art, outside of the established modes and genres. Which are the main characters in it?

Even as a student I was experimenting with attempts to unite various and seemingly impossible to merge techniques, textures, materials and genres. In the theater I continued to mix the unmixable. There, in the theater’s magical and non-repetitive reality are the roots of the diversified expressions of my art. In theater I learned the skill of varying the means of expression—not for the sake of change itself, but because through one genre I discover the key to another. Each specific language of my art—paintings, photography, assemblage, dance, books, poetry—nourishes the other, breaks boundaries of genres and canons and assists me in rediscovering and recreating the familiar into something new. The Child in me continues to make up new toys and to enjoy new games. Life becomes a magical creative game in which there is no inertia; there are no predictable, mundane, boring, monotonous activities. I am guided by the desire to continue my expeditions into the Unknown, where there is always new stage, new challenges and new emotional enchantment. This is the passion of the wings, which long for constantly changeable spaces. Because the places that are already flown into, could become a cage… The main thing for me is that childlike playfulness, which transforms the reality into art—in the same way in which a little girl enjoys the rainbow colors in a city puddle. Because the mission of an artist is to recreate in a unique way this world, not just to live it and to reproduce it the way it is.

What are you working on now?

I am painting a series of small paintings, which are combined into a large installation with proportions based on the Golden mean. It’s a kind of study that unites impressions of different cultures I have touched upon during the journey called Life. For now the installation consists of 108 canvasses.

I have finally completed a book of erotic paintings and love poetry, which I hope to publish first in Bulgaria. To my surprise, the poems came in Bulgarian and that’s why I feel that they belong to the Bulgarian reader.

I am preparing a show named The Many Faces of Eve, which will open in November, and also—a solo exhibition in Austin, Texas in December.

And above all, I continue to work diligently on myself.

You’ve worked on murals that are in The Jewish Museum in New York, The Plaza Hotel, and in the luxury casino Trump Taj Mahal. What art appeals to the rich?

Depends what it means to be rich. Richness of the wallet differs from the richness of the soul.

A few years after my arrival in New York, I stopped painting murals and I devoted myself to making art that I love. I focused on what is exciting and interesting for me. It’s important to me to remain true to myself, to my artistic pursuits and to what incites me as an artist. I believe that when the art is genuine, it ingrains and preserves the energy present during the process of creating. Wealthy or not, people subconsciously sense it and respond to this energy, even when they are not always able to explain it.

What do you view as your important accomplishments? What is the biggest reward and acknowledgment for you until now?

Every exhibition is a kind of recognition of my art. My biggest reward is the opportunity to show my art everywhere in the world, without restricting myself to a specific country; even if it is the one perceived as a center of the artworld today.

My art is honored with few public acknowledgments: a gold medal Lorenzo di Medici from the Biennale in Italy, a First Prize from the Biennale in Austria and a nomination for a Grammy Award for best video of the year, when I still thought I would continue my work in the theater. Curiously, this was also the moment in which I realized that I prefer to be in the studio and paint paintings.

I hold tremendous gratitude for the awarded prizes and tributes, but the biggest success for me remains the process of getting to know my Self. My most cherished rewards come from the inner development of my character and from constructing a solid value system, which helps me to remain free in my choices, and to do what I love. The truest success for me is that I continue to make art; that I am following my heart—despite trials and challenges. I value my adamant Balkan determination, which doesn’t allow me to give up. My desire for success is motivated by the intention to evolve as an artist and as a human being. I consistently aim to be authentic and to preserve the humanness in me. This makes me more perceptive of myself and of others, and helps me to connect with them in an authentic way.

Last year you participated in the 13^th International Exhibition for Sculpture and Installation in Venice, Italy. The focus of your installation Prayer was the violin. Why?

It was a true miracle and a real madness that I initiated this project. I’m still surprised that I managed to complete it and to erect the installation in Venice—a playground for art and culture for centuries. This work is a peculiar accent in my art. It is a materialization of my creative intuition for the approaching crisis, which spread in the world. I believe that every crisis begins first in the human soul. This installation-meditation is a prayer for harmony, for peace, for preservation of the humanness, for a dialogue and love between people. The prayers that are most often answered are the ones offered through music.

I can talk for hours about what the violin means to me. The classical shape of this musical instrument is simultaneously feminine and phallic. For me it is a symbol of the balance between the primordial and eternal energies of the Masculine and the Feminine. Harmonized, these sacred energies create music. Music is the universal language comprehended by all. There are no dialects or language barriers for it. It is the direct way to establish harmony between the human and the Divine. Through music we come closer to the Infinite.

In your blog you publish The 25 Lessons for Creatives in Patti Smith’s book Just Kids. Which of them do you share with most emotion?

Although all of the principles listed by Patti Smith are valid and useful, the most valuable for me are the following:

Look for the magical.

Your life is a canvas.

The role of the artist is to see what others do not.

If you miss a beat, create another.

I shared this article with the hope that it will help others too. In the worrisome times in which we live, the question for survival is a question whether to make a compromise with ourselves. Now more than ever, these principles support me and help me to follow my true path. They provide guidance for my art, as well as for my personal life. I share them because they are valid not just for artists, but also for each one of us. It is possible to see motley colors even in the muddiest puddle of all. It is possible to live our lives with integrity and magic. It depends on us how to paint the canvas of our lives, and how to share ourselves with others.

What are your passions outside of art? To what do you devote your free time?

I have a colossal passion for traveling, for getting to know foreign cultures and for permeating new spaces. This is the most wonderful way for me to remain in flight. I practice yoga—I love to discover what the body can do in union with the mind. I am interested in psychology—deciphering the mystery of human character, responses and relationships with others fascinates me. I love poetry—what intrigues me in it is the opportunity to express powerful emotions in condensed, minimalistic form. I read all the time. I am interested in mysticism, transformation and personal development. At times I feel that my true profession is that of an alchemist.

I must clarify that for an artist there is no separation between goals, dreams and passions. The real life and the creative act blend naturally in a homogeneous magical osmosis. Impressive encounters and conversations, love stories, sublime experiences, as well as the listed here specific interests, nourish and inseminate my art just like the difficult moments, conflicts and challenges from daily reality are engraved into my canvasses. This unity between art and life makes the creative act solid, authentic and profound.

Japan and India are two of the countries with which it seems, you have a special connection. What is the reason for it?

Eastern cultures in general are more attractive to me. In them I unconsciously discover traces of the pagan roots of the Bulgarian culture with which I grew up. The wisdom, the value system, the rituals and the mystical spirit of these countries are very intriguing and inspiring for me.

Japan appeals to me with its reticence, the art of hint and clean aesthetics. I like that beauty is admired to a point of adoration. I am intrigued by the sight of men in suits kneeling at the base of a temple during their lunch break, or embracing a tree—to recharge for the remainder of their corporate afternoon.

India fascinates me with the contrasts, the variety, the intense colors, the magical aromas, and the enchanting interactions with people. I love the almost theatrical magnificence of life, temples and clothing, and the way in which the sacred weaves itself so naturally into the mundane. In India it is believed that artists stand closest to the Gods.

The reason for my departure for India was my participation in three exhibitions, which opened almost simultaneously in galleries in New Delhi, Bombay and Bangalore. The project: Ten Goddesses of Art, Ten Creative Forces was conceived and organized by Ravi Kumar. It was accompanied by a high quality limited edition book with the reproductions of the art exhibited in the galleries. I accepted the invitation for this ambitious project, intrigued by the fact that all the participants were women—nine amazing artists from India, and I. It turned out that I was the only “foreign goddess” in this unique creative endeavor. Enthralled by the vivid presence of spiritual values, vitality and visual splendor, I remained in Asia long after my engagements with the galleries were complete. New projects materialized along with the opportunity to be initiated in the ancient arts of Reiki and crystal healing. In Asia, many of the questions I was asking were transformed into answers, which I began to understand and integrate with ease.

Do you come back to Bulgaria often and do you know of the development of the art and the artists here?

Although my visits are rare, my returns to Bulgaria are very precious for me. I have come back twice, and always with tremendous gratefulness for this land, for these roots of ancient cultures, which I feel inside me until today. I continue to restructure, to develop and materialize in various creative expressions the Balkan energy, now fortified by the new knowledge and experiences I have gathered around the world. Even from a distance, I follow the development of Bulgarian arts. I admire the heroic efforts of the Bulgarian artists to carry on their mission of ambassadors of beauty and soulfulness in these challenging times. I bow to their stoicism to preserve the Bulgarian culture and to develop it on all levels—in theater, film, literature, poetry, dance, and music. They continue to draw from the incredible energy of this sacred and unique place—Bulgaria.

I hope to have new occasions to come back more often. Because I never forgot the little girl, which sees how in the murky puddle an ordinary petrol stain transforms its colors and takes on magical dimensions.

Интервю в списание НАШ ДОМ

2011-11-06T03:23:00.000-08:00

Джина Брезини

Изкуството—в различни измерения

Интервюто води Мария Тонева

Съвременният артистичен свят Ви познава като Джина Брезини. Каква бе Джина преди да напусне България и каква е сега?

Бях стеснително и любознателно дете. Нямах много играчки и се научих да се забавлявам сама докато родителите ми бяха на работа. Обичах да рисувам. Обичах да се преобличам в импровизирани “костюми”, да танцувам и да пея. Обичах промяната. Но най-много обичах улиците на София след дъжд. С часове стоях сред забързаните минувачи и се взирах в разноцветните петна бензин, сменящи магично цветовете си в локвите около колите паркирани до софийските тротоари. Струва ми се, че това правя и до днес—забелязвам красотата в калната вода на локвите.

Вярвам, че работата на художника е да показва на другите това, което остава незабелязано от тях. Затова не се очудих, когато се озовах в Художесвената Гимназия. Тъй като детската ми специалност бе Магичното, струва ми се закономерно, че по-късно избрах Театъра като своя специалност в храма на изобразителното изкуство—Художествената Академия в София. Завърших в класа на проф. Асен Стойчев. Този невероятен преподавател пръв повярва в мен. Именно той ми даде крилата, с които продължавам да летя и до днес, навсякъде по света. Благодарение на него още като студентка започнах да работя в професионален театър и участвах с мои театрални проекти в Международното квадриенале в Прага. Пак благодарение на него проектирах костюмите за “Джоконда” в Пловдивската Опера, съвместно с негови проекти за сценография. Чувствам, че именно подкрепата и неимоверната вяра на проф. Стойчев в мен, ми дадоха самочувствие в онези така важни начални години и ме формираха като творец. Никога не забравям, че много от това което съм сега дължа именно на него, на тази първа българска закваска, която съкровено пазя в сърцето си.

Малко преди да замина за Америка се запознах с изключително талантливия режисьор Ставри Карамфилов, за чието близко приятелство съм благодарна и до днес. С него реализирахме пиесите “Едип Цар” и “Антигона” в Благоевградския Драматичен театър. Пак със Ставри поставихме и мюзикъла “Напразните усилия на любовта” на композитора Любомир Денев, в Камерна Опера в Благоевград. Това бяха последните ми изяви в България.

В Америка съм художник.

Струва ми се, че няма голяма разлика—и в България, и в Ню Йорк се занимавам с изкуство. Независимо от жанра или от географската точка, моят постоянен стремеж е да правя това, в което вярвам, и да давам най-доброто, на което съм способна.

Кое бе първото предизвикателство на Ню Йорк към Вас като творец? Как се успява в град като този?

Началното и крайно болезнено предизвикателство в Ню Йорк беше необходимостта да загърбя миналото. Нужно беше, за да мога да се адаптирам и оцелея в тази така нова и различна за мен култура и среда. Не познавах никого. През деня работех за да оцелея и заспивах с подути глезени, уморени от тежка работа и ходене пеша. Нощем упорито сричах с речниците, за да зауча с усилие някоя елементарна фраза. Неизменно, и въпреки притеснението и ужаса от граматични грешки и неимоверно беден речник, който ме караше да се чувствам като дебил, се насилвах да участвам в примитивни разговори с шепата нови познати. Знаех, че само ако съумея да се изразявам с лекотата, с която текат мислите ми, ще успея да постигна това, за което бях дошла. Бях решена да науча този език до съвършенство и да си проправя път през непознатата и плашеща джунгла на новата си съдба. Отне ми време и цяла река от самотни сълзи, но постепенно започнах да мисля и дори да сънувам на английски. Стъпка по стъпка, успях да си създам среда, обкръжавайки се с интересни, талантливи и интелигентни хора. Мисля че тази първоначална адаптация отне около пет години, макар че и сега продължавам да разширявам познанията си и кръга на стойностни приятелства и познанства. Имах късмет—вероятно защото неистово вярвах в себе си, в способностите си, и в това че ще успея. Живеех с непоколебимото усещане за това, че имам важна и уникална мисия. Фокусирах се на мисълта за нея. Бях благодарна за всичко, на което ме научи България и едва тук оцених и образованието, което получих в Родината, и безценната подкрепа на приятели и колеги, които ми липсваха в Америка.

Скоро след пристигането ми в Ню Йорк, попаднах почти случайно в едно ателие за стенописи. Наеха ме, макар че нямах нито документи, нито резюме-биография. Но имах смелостта да опитам. Вместо задължителното портфолио, притеснено измъкнах от джоба си шепа черно-бели снимки, направени в България със заета от приятел допотопна “Лайка”. Английският ми беше толкова несъществуващ, че не разбрах нито какво точно ще се изисква от мен, нито какво ще бъде заплащането. В няколко безсънни нощи бях скалъпила с помощтта на речника два-три несръчни въпроса . Но се оказaх неподготвена за отговорите—всички обяснения за условията и задълженията ми, прозвучаха като една безкрайно дълга дума, която не разбрах. Бях безсловесна, но интуицията ми работеше безпогрешно. Вярвах й, защото ми се струваше че нямам избор. Една от малкото думи които знаех беше YES. Казах ДА на всичко. Това, струва ми се, е разковничето на успеха—сега вече вярвам безусловно на интуицията си и осъзнато казвам ДА на възможностите, които се появават на пътя ми. Сега разбирам, че тайната на успеха е да казвам ДА на Живота, на Себе си, на мечтите си, на промените които ме плашат, на новото което идва в живота и в творчеството ми. Независимо дали се страхувам или не.

По времето когато за пръв път попаднах в Ню Йорк, градът беше изключително разнобразна смесица от най-различни странни, живописни, интересни, и опасни неща. Контрастите бяха поразяващи, улиците—мръсни, а многообразието и странните типове—невъзможно да се опишат накратко. Но в неповторимата атмосфера на града имаше някаква особена магия—неподправеното усещане за свободен дух, за автентичен персонален изказ, за омайващата загадка на неизвестното. Към това се прибави и неочакваното за мен преживяване да разговарям с добронамерени непознати хора, подтиквани от почти детско любопитство и прословутата американска лекота за създаване на нови познанства. Някак естествено се озовах в средата на художническото съсловие и в центъра на живописен и неспирен въртоп от преживявания и запознанства с интересни хора. Оказа се изненадващо лесно да споделя чаша вино в Сохо в компанията на световно известни художници, пред чиито произведения още като ученичка в Художествената гимназия в София тайно се прехласвах докато мечтаех над изцапаните с боя страници на някой апокрифно разлистван албум за съвременно западно изкуство. Тук само трябваше да се появя на откриване на изложба в Сохо, за да срещна без никакво усилие мои отколешни любимци като Джаспър Джонс, Франк Стела, Джон Ъпдайк, Денис Опенхайм, Mарина Абрамович, Раушенбърг, Йоко Оно, Кристо. Появиха се и нови кумири, и познанствата с тях постепенно прерастнаха в приятелства, които ценя и поддържам до днес.

Днес Ню Йорк не е град на изкуството, той е финансов център, който не поддържа художника нито с пейзажа си, нито с финасови субсидии, нито със социални осигуровки или атмосфера на разбиране. Тук няма утвърдени традиции, които да стимулират или подкрепят необходимостта от изкуство. Изчезнаха оскъдните програми за поддържане на художниците, а самите творци се изселиха извън града. Ателиетата и бившите галерии в Сохо, които приютяваха световни имена в западното изкуство се превърнаха в ресторанти и модни бутици. Консуматорството триумфира, изместило изкуството в подкрепа на пълния стомах и обемистите пазарни чанти, претъпкани с луксозни маркови стоки и създаващи илюзии за доволство, запълващо празнотата на живеенето без душа. В тази реалност, да продължавам да правя изкуство, и да съумявам да съхраня автентичната си творческа индивидуалност не престава да бъде предизвикателство за мен.

Предизвикателствата на Изкуството никога не спират. Със всяко постигнато ниво летвата се вдига и всеки път се изискват нови умения и прясна доза смелост, за да я прескоча и да пристъпя в следващото неизвестно. Едно от многото неща, които научих от моя преподавател в Академията, професор Асен Стойчев, е че “на стари лаври не може да се разчита”. Творчеството не бива да бъде статично. Това го превръща в занаят. Струва ми се, че до последния си дъх ще се стремя към нови и различни неща; че неотклонно ще превръщам въпросите в изкуство. Според мен, успеха не е в постигнатото, а в пътя който се извървява до там.

Как се успява в Ню Йорк ли? Няма формула за успех, но когато се появи шанса трябва да го разпознаеш и да го яхнеш. Без колебание. И да продължиш да правиш една малка крачка в желаната посока днес, а утре—още една. И така всеки ден. Най-важното е неизменно да поддържаш вярата си. Аз вярвам и искам. Вярвам в себе си и не преставам да крача напред. Струва ми се, че това важи за всеки град, за всеки успех. Просто в Ню Йорк темпото и “волтажа” са по-интензивни.

В едно интервю казвате, че не вярвате в романтичния мит за творческата муза. Какви са Вашите правила в създаването на изкуство?

За мен изкуството е ежедневен ритуал, свещена практика—като йогата, като развитието на интелекта и поддържането на физическата форма, като стремежа за извисяване на духа. Изкуството изисква дисциплина и постоянство, но в същото време изисква гъвкавост, заиграване и умение да се вслушваш в това, което присъства сега. Творческата муза посещава тези, които са в ателието всеки ден, тези които не се страхуват да опитват нещо ново, да разширяват границите на собствения си емоционален и творчески комфорт и да пристъпват в зоната на Неизвестното. Творческото Неизвестно. Музата не идва при твореца, твореца отива при нея. Това е едно ежедневно пристъпване в “зоната”. Като във филма “Сталкер” на Тарковски тя не допуска всекиго. В творчеството правила няма, но има неистовата необходимост да се твори. Творческата муза е именно тази необходимост.

При Вас живопистта, скулптурата, фотографията и инсталациите са в пряк диалог и създават нова форма на изкуство, извън рамката на формата и жанра. Кои са главните герои в него?

Още в академията експериементирах и се опитвах да съчетая разнолики и на пръв поглед несъчетаеми техники, фактури, необичайни материали и жанрове. В театъра продължих да съчетавам несъчетаемости. Именно там, в неговата магична и неповтаряща се реалност, е корена на разнообразните проявления на творчеството ми. В театъра научих умението да сменям изразните средства, но не заради самата смяна, а защото чрез един жанр откривам ключа към друг. Конкретните проявления на моето изкуство—картини, фотографии, скулптури, танц, книги, поезия—се захранват взаимно, рушат жанрови граници и канони и ми помагат да преоткрия и пресътворя познатото в нещо ново. Дететето в мен и до днес продължава да си създава нови играчки и да изпитва удоволствие от това, че открива нови игри. Така животът се превръща в една вълшебна творческа игра, в която няма инерция, няма банална, скучна, монотонна дейност. Води ме стремежа да продължавам своите експедиции в неизвестното, където винаги има нов етап и нови предизвикателства, но и нова емоционална магичност. Това е страстта на крилете, които жадуват за постоянно променени пространства. Защото пространствата които са вече облетени, се превръщат в клетка. Главното за мен е онази детска заиграност със живота, която превръща реалността около мен в изкуство—така както прави едно дете, взряно в цветовете на дъгата в локвата. Същото онова дете, което дълго стрива два къса тухли, за да си направи глина, с която да пресътвори света наново. Защото мисията на твореца е именно в това—да пресътвори по уникален начин този свят, а не само да го обживява и да го репродуцира такъв какъвто е.

Върху какво работите в момента?

Рисувам cерия от малки картини, които се съчетават в една огромна инсталация-картина, с пропорции базирани на златното сечение. Това е едно своеобразно изследване и обединяване на различните култури по света, до които съм се докоснала по време на пътешествието наречено Живот. Засега инсталацията се състои от 108 различни платна.

Най-после завърших и една книга с еротични картини и любовна лирика, която се надявам да отпечатам първо в България. За мое очудване, поемите се родиха на български и затова смятам, че те принадлежат на българския читател—любител на поезия.

Подготвям и изложба със заглавие “Многото лица на Ева”, която ще се открие през ноември, а също така и самостоятелна изложба в Остин, Тексас през декември.

Но винаги най-усилено работя върху себе си.

Ваши стенописи има в Jewish Museum в Ню Йорк, The Plaza Hotel на Пето авеню, работила сте в създаването на интериора на луксозното казино на Доналд Тръмп Taj Mahal. Какво изкуство харесват богатите хора?

Зависи какво значи да си богат. И дали става дума за богатство на портфейла или богатство на духа. Няколко години след пристигането си в Америка престанах да се занимавам със стенописи и се посветих изцяло на правенето на картини, които харесвам аз. Фокусирах се на това, което е вълнуващо и любопитно за мен. Най-важното за мен е да оставам вярна на себе си, на артистичните си търсения, и на това което ме вълнува като творец. Вярвам, че когато изкуството е искрено, то вгражда и съхранява енергията, вложена в процеса на създаването. Заможни или не, хората подсъзнателно реагират на тази енергия, която неизменно се усеща, макар че не винаги може да се обясни.

Кое оценявате като свой успех? Най-голямата награда и признание до момента?

Всяка изложба е своеобразно признание за мен. Голямата ми награда е възможността да показвам изкуството си навсякъде по света, без да се ограничавам в рамките на една държава—дори тя да е най-голямата, или да е смятана за център на световното изкуството днес.

Удостоена съм с няколко обществени признания: Златен медал “Лоренцо ди Медичи” от Биеналето във Флоренция, Първа награда от Биеналето в Австрия и номинация за наградата “Грами” за най-добро видео на годината. (Това беше в първите години в Америка, когато все още смятах, че и тук ще продължа да се занимавам с театър. Любопитно е, че това беше и преломният момент, в който разбрах, че предпочитам да съм в ателието и да рисувам картини.)

С благодарност за получените награди и признания, за мен най-големият успех си остава опознаването на личния ми Аз—вътрешното развитие на личността ми и доизграждането на солидна стойностна система, която ми помага да съм свободна в изборите си и да продължавам да правя това, което обичам. Истинският успех за мен е в това, че продължавам да творя; че съумявам да следвам пътя на сърцето си—въпреки трудностите и изпитанията. Ценя моята неистова Балканска упоритост, която не ми позволява да се откажа. Желанието ми за успех е мотивирано от стремежа да продължавам да бъда себе си, да се опитвам да съм все по-добра и да запазя човешкото в себе си; постоянно да се стремя да извисявам духа си—като творец и като човек. Това ме прави по-истинска и по-чувствителна към себе си, но и към другите. Така се свързвам с тях на истинско, автентично ниво.

Миналата година участвахте в 13-та Международна изложба за скулптура и инсталация ОPEN 13, която бе част от 67-я филмов фестивал във Венеция. Във фокуса на Вашата инсталация „Молитва” попада цигулката. Защо?

Беше истинско чудо и лудост, че се заех с този проект и че успях да го завърша и да го издигна именно във Венеция—средище на изкуство и култура от векове. Тази творба е особен акцент в моето творчество, тя е своеобразна материализация на творческата ми интуиция за предстоящата криза, която завладя света. Вярвам, че всяка криза започва най-напред в човешките души. Тази инсталация е молитва за хармония, за мир, за съхраняване на човечността, за диалог и любов между хората. А изпълнените молитви са най-често молитвите, поднесени чрез музика.

За това какво означава цигулката за мен, мога да говоря с часове. Класическата форма на този музикален инструмент е едновременно женствена и фалична. За мен тя е символ на балансираното съчетаване на изначалните и всевечни енергии на Мъжкото и Женското. Хармонизирани, тези свещени енергии създават музика. Музиката е универсалният език разбираем за всички. За нея няма наречия и езикова бариера. Тя е директния път за осъществяване на хармонията между човешкото и Божественото. Музиката ни доближава да Безкрайното.

В своя блог публикувате 25-те урока по креативност на Пати Смит от книгата й “Just Kids”. Кои от тях споделяте с най-голяма емоция?

Макар че всички изброени от Пати Смит принципи са валидни и полезни, за мен най-ценни са следните:

Търси магичното.

Животът ти е платно.

Ролята на художника е да вижда това, което другите не могат да видят.

Ако пропуснеш един такт, създай нов.

Споделих тази статия, защото се надявам тя да помогне и на други. В тревожните времена, в които живеем, въпроса за оцеляване е въпрос дали да направим компромис със себе си. Сега повече от всякога тези принципи ме подкрепят и ми помагат да следвам своите истински пътища. Те са водещи за мен—и в изкуството ми, и в личния ми живот. Споделям ги, защото те се отнасят не само до художника, а са валидни за всеки един от нас. Възможно е да се видят пъстри цветове и в най-калната локва. Възможно е да изживеем живота си стойностно и магично. От нас зависи как да нарисуваме платното на живота си и да споделим пълноценно себе си с другите.

Какви са Вашите страсти извън работата, на какво е посветено свободното Ви време?

Имам неистовата страст да пътешествам, да опознавам чужди култури и да овладявам още и нови различни пространства. Това е най-прекрасният начин за мен да продължа да бъда птица в полет. Занимавам се с йога—обичам да опознавам тялото и на какво е способно то в съчетание с духа. Интересувам се от психология—обожавам да разгадавам тайнството на човешките реакции, характери и взаимоотношения. Обичам поезия—интригува ме възможността да се изразяват силни емоции в концентрирана, минималистична форма. Почти непрестанно чета. Интересувам се от мистика, трансформация и лично усъвършенстване. Струва ми се, че истинската ми професия е алхимик.

Искам да поясня, че за твореца няма разделение на стремежите, мечтите и страстите. Реалният живот и акта на творчеството някак естествено преливат в единна магична осмоза. Впечатляващи срещи и разговори, любовни истории, върховни преживявания, и изредените тук специфични интереси, захранват и оплождат изкуството ми по същия начин, по който трудните моменти от ежедневието, конфликтите и предизвикателствата се вграждат в моите платна. Именно това единство между изкуство и живот прави творческия акт монолитен, автентичен и въздействащ.

Япония и Индия са две от страните, към които струва ми се имате по-специално отношение. С какво е свързано то?

Източните култури по принцип са много по-привлекателни за мен. В тях неволно откривам следи от езическите корени на българската култура, с които съм захранена. Мъдростта, стойностната система, ритуалите и мистичният дух на тези страни са изключително интригуващи и вдъхновяващи за мен.

Япония ми допада със сдържаността, намека, и изчистената естетика. Харесвам това, че на красивото се обръща внимание и то е почти издигнато в култ. Интригува ме също гледката на мъже в костюми коленичили в основата на някой храм по време на обедната си почивка, или прегръщащи някое дърво, за да се “заредят” за остатъка от корпоративния си следобед.

В Индия ме привлича контраста, многообразието, наситените цветове, магичните аромати, съприкосновението с хората, почти театралната пищност на живота, храмовете и облеклото, и това как някак съвсем естествено сакралното се преплита с ежедневния живот. В Индия твърдят, че твореца стои най-близо до Боговете.

Повод за заминаването ми в Индия беше участието ми в три изложби, които се откриха почти едновременно в галерии в Бомбай, Делхи и Бангалор. Проекта, наречен “Десет Богини на Изкуството”, беше съпроводен от луксозен албум с репродукции на картините представени в изложбите. Това което ме накара да приема поканата за този амбициозен проект бе факта, че внимателно подбраните участници са само жени—девет утвърдени художнички от Индия, и аз. Оказах се единствената чуждестранна “богиня” в тази уникална творческа изява. Омагьосана от присъствието на духовни ценности, виталност и визуална пищност, останах в Азия дълго след като бях приключила ангажимента си с изложбите. Появиха се и нови проекти, както и възможността да бъда посветена в изкуството на Рейки и лечение с енергия и кристали. Именно в Индия, много от въпросите които си задавах се превърнаха в отговори, които успях да разбера и интегрирам с лекота.

Връщате ли се често в България и имате ли впечатления от изкуството и творците у нас?

Макар и редки, връщанията ми в България са много ценни за мен. Два пъти съм се завръщала, но винаги с признателност към тази земя, към тези корени на древни култури, които и до днес усещам в себе си. Продължавам да преструктурирам, да доразвивам, да материализирам в най-различни прояви на изкуството си същата тази Балканска енергия, подсилена от новите познания и преживявания, които натрупах за света около мен. Макар и отдалече, интересувам се, чета и следя с интерес развитието на българската култура. Прекланям се пред усилията на моите събратя художници и творци, които продължават да отстояват ежедневно мисията си на посланици на красотата и на духовното в тези трудни времена. Възхищавам се на невероятния им човешки подвиг—стоически да съхраняват и развиват българската култура на всички нива—в театъра, в киното, в литературата, в поезията, танца, музиката. Те продължават да черпят от неимоверната енергия на това свещено и уникално място наречено България.

Надявам се да имам повече поводи да идвам по-често в България. Защото никога не забравям онова малко момиченце, което вижда как в локвата цветното петно от бензина променя цвета си и добива магични измерения.

Повече информация за Джина Брезини можете да намерите на www.ginabrezini.com

Un upcoming interview for the magazine "Nash Dom"

2011-10-14T21:29:00.000-07:00

Last week I opened the email box on my website for the first time. Among the few notes from random fans, I found an invitation for an interview in the oldest magazine for interior design, architecture and lifestyle in Bulgaria—Nash Dom. It loosely translates into Home and Design Magazine. In her email the young woman introduced herself as Maria Toneva and offered to write about me for the rubric Portraits. She shared a story I have forgotten: I have painted a portrait of her when she was a girl and this painting has been an important part of her life ever since. Now she wanted to make a portrait of me. Touched by the story, I agreed—not knowing that this interview will open in me a lot more than I expected. Two days later Maria sent me her questions. The depth of the questions and her professionalism pleasantly surprised me. It was obvious that she has done a thorough and extensive research on my path as an artist. The questions offered a well-thought structure that obliged me to answer in kind. Some of them, however, reminded me of projects and circumstances in my life that I have forgotten or did not want to recall.

I read the questions a few times before I encountered the panic. I sensed that this interview has another, karmic purpose. I realized that it was important for me to really access deeper places. I wanted my answers to carry the emotions of an intimate confession. I wanted to dare to be authentic and to reveal things I never talked about. This was a risk I was ready to take. I decided to ignore my worries of page restrictions and to simply allow the story to flow and take its own course. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that this interview urges me to clear some old stuff, which have been buried until now, but still chained me to outdated patterns. I realized that most of the questions revolve around the murky years in which I made the uneasy choice to leave my homeland and began a brand new life in the unfamiliar country I’ve chosen as my new home. The questions took me back into times and events of which I was most reluctant to talk about, or even—to remember. But I also recognized that this was the most valuable part of this interview. An experienced swimmer in the dark waters of Fear, I plunged into them and I gave it my all.

Writing this text turned into a challenging archeological dig that infused me with my own personal questions: “Why did I leave my country? What was my true motivation for making such a drastic change? Am I aligned with these deep motivations now? Am I continuing now to follow the dreams I had then? Did I deviate from them? Am I brave enough to genuinely share part of my story with people I do not even know?” These questions had a strong pull on me and I found myself sleepless and writing with obsession that caused me to lose sense of time. I tried to break away from the usual form of an interview and to unite my answers into a previously untold story. Two images emerged as if on their own—the Child and the wings, which my professor in the Academy has “given” me; the wings I continue to spread out today, in foreign lands. And then I got my answers—the motivation behind all my actions and decisions, behind my entire life, is the freedom to make my own choices—in my life and in my art. And to continue playing with the Unknown…

After the magazine comes out I will publish the full text of the interview. I will share it as it was born—without limitations of page space or edits that make it more fitting for specific magazine audience.

По повод интервюто в списание " Наш дом"

2011-10-14T21:00:00.000-07:00

Миналaта седмица отворих за пръв път пощата в моята интернет страница. Mежду кратките бележки от случайни почитатели открих покана за интервю от Мария Тонева. Тя се представи като журналист от “Наш Дом”. В писмото си Мария предложи да направи портрет за рубриката “Лица”. Сподели и забравена от мен случка: нарисувала съм неин портрет, който и до днес я съпътства като важна част от живота й. Сега порасналото момиченце иска да направи моя портрет. Развълнувана от разказаното, побързах да се съглася—без да знам, че това интервю ще отприщи в мен неподозирани емоции. Два дни по-късно Мария изпрати въпросите си. Бях приятно изненадаха от дълбочината и професионализма им—очевидно тя беше извършила сериозно проучване на пътя ми като художник. Въпросите като цяло предлагаха добре премислена структура и ме задължаваха да отговоря искрено. Но някои от тях ми припомниха проекти и събития, за които бях забравила или не исках да си спомням.

Прочетох въпросите няколко пъти преди да се сблъскам с паниката нахлула в мен. Усетих, че това интервю има друга, кармична задача. Разбрах, че е важно за мен да се докосна до по-дълбоки места в себе си. Исках отговорите ми да носят емоционалния заряд на интимна изповед. Исках да се осмеля да бъда истинска. Това беше риск, който бях готова да поема. Реших да пренебрегна притесненията си за ограничения в страниците и да оставя отговорите да се формират естествено и да следват своята собствена посока. Не можех да се отърва от мисълта, че това интервю ме приканва да “изчистя” от себе си стари неща, дълбоко погребани досега, но все още приковаващи ме към стари модели. Дадох си сметка, че въпросите се въртят около мътните години, в които трябваше да направя нелекия избор да напусна родината си и да започна нов живот в непознатата страна, която избрах за свой нов дом. Въпросите ме пренесоха във времена и събития, за които най-малко исках да си спомням и говоря. Но знаех, че именно това е ценното на това интервю. Опитен плувец в тъмните води на cтраховете, гмурнах се в тях и му се отдадох напълно.

Писането на текста се превърна в емоционална археологична разкопка. Погълнаха ме моите лични въпроси, отключени от въпросите зададени от интервюиращата: “Защо напуснах България? Каква беше истинската ми мотивация да направя такава драстична промяна? Следвам ли пътеката, за която мечтаех тогава или съм се отклонила от нея? Ще се осмеля ли сега да споделя сeбе си с хора, които дори не познавам?” Тези въпроси ме обсебиха. Пишех почти денонощтно, потънала в отдавна забравени събития и загубила представа за времето. Опитах се да изляза от рамките на обичайното интервю и да свържа отговорите си в несподелен досега разказ. Два образа се оформиха някак естествено и като че от самосебе си: образът на Детето и образът на крилата, които ми даде моят преподавател в Академията, професор Асен Стойчев. Същите тези крила, които размахвам и до днес в чуждестранни простори. И тогава разбрах: мотивацията на всички мои действия и решения, на целия ми живот, е свободата да правя своите избори—в живота и в творчеството си. И да продължавам да се заигравам с Неизвестното.

След като списанието излезе, ще поместя пълният текст на интервюто. Искам да го споделя така както се появи—без ограниченията за брой страници и без редакция, която го прави по-подходящ за специфична читателска публика.

New Painting

2011-09-09T10:32:00.000-07:00

Here is a glance in the making of a painting. It is a part of a larger format series of paintographs that you may have seen on my website. The format of this particular canvas is 45" x 60" (114cm x152cm). Once the other two panels are added, this medium format canvas will turn into a triptych of a fairly good size.

Day One - first steps

Day Two - composition

Defining elements and creating a flow

Deciding on the light center - creating depth


Knowing when to stop - done

Well, there are few more steps before the painting is completely done, but they would not be visible on a photo. They happened on Day Three: spraying with fixative and then pouring a thick layer of resin to create a slick glass-like surface. Then the painting is really finished and ready to be signed. However, it will be truly completed only when it is seen by others, so please take a look and participate in the completion of the painting.

Urban Rainbows

2011-08-03T12:57:00.000-07:00

This is the story that Danyell, my lovely assistant, sees in one of my newest paintings.

She was kind enough to write and share this impression as she perceives it. - Gina

Urban Rainbows, mixed media, 12" x 36"

"She feeds the birds in the park everyday. Behind her, the bridge cuts across the blue sky and adds another layer onto the thick, dense cityscape. The architecture towers towards the heavens, forever scaling upwards, for the city has long since run out of ground. The pigeons fight each other violently for the few scraps of bread, out of fear that there won’t be enough. It’s hard to tell whether they are starving or simply insatiable.

She stares blankly over a small patch of green: a planned park, where nothing grows by accident anymore—even the grass is imported, and the trees are adopted orphans from decades-old nurseries. Still, it is a welcomed departure from everything else around her that is either gray or blue. She closes her eyes and imagines all the colors that she misses. She tries to envision a city made of pinks and purples, of yellow, red, orange and green. Of course, there is still the occasional blue, but in her city the blue would be balanced with other hues, or mixed together to create new colors she could never even imagine.

She opens her eyes again and the pigeons, having consumed in a frenzy all the remaining crumbs, leap into the air and fly up. They fly over the treetops and become a collection of black dots across the blue sky. She closes her eyes again, trying to imagine this kind of freedom—flying over rainbows."

“What matters is the work”: 25 lessons for creatives in Patti Smith’s ‘Just Kids.’

2011-07-20T00:45:00.000-07:00

“What matters is the work”: 25 lessons for creatives in Patti Smith’s ‘Just Kids.’

by Nextness published June 16, 2011 posted in Creativity

Of all the speakers at this year’s Cannes Lions, the most inspiring is surely Patti Smith.
She’s a visual artist whose work has been shown in prestigious galleries; a punk goddess, performer and rock and roll star who was inducted in to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2007. And all her life she has been a writer. Her most recent work is her astonishingly beautiful story of moving to New York, falling in love with artist Robert Mapplethorpe, and their creative journey, together and apart, on their way to being real artists and no longer “Just Kids.”
Of course, you have to read it. But in case you need a refresher, here are 25 lessons, pulled in Patti’s words from her amazing book, about the creative process and living a creative life.

1. Never apologise for being an artist.

No one would see what [Robert] had seen, no one would understand. He’d had it all his life, but in the past he tried to make up for it, as if it were his fault. He compensated for this with a sweet nature, seeking approval from his father, from his teachers, from his peers. He wasn’t certain whether he was a good or bad person… But he was certain of one thing. He was an artist. And for that he would never apologise.

2. Look for the magic.

Robert would often use [the word magic] to describe us, about a successful poem or drawing, and ultimately in choosing a photograph on a contact sheet. “That’s the one with the magic,” he would say.

3. Your life is a canvas.

Robert “approached dressing like living art.”

Robert infused objects, whether for art or life, with his creative impulse… He transformed a ring of keys, a kitchen knife, or a simple wooden frame into art. He loved his work and he loved his things…

“He was the artist of my life,” Patti says.

4. Don’t fake being unique, you already are.

Robert took to describing himself as evil, partially joking or just needing to be different… “You know you don’t have to be evil to be different,” I said. “You are different. Artists are their own breed.”

5. Try not to let having to earn a living get in the way of your creative work.

Robert was increasingly despondent with his paid work. When he came home he was exhausted and dispirited and for a time stopped creating. I implored him to quit. His job and scant paycheck were not worth the sacrifice… I had no regrets taking on the job as the breadwinner. My temperament was sturdier. I could still create at night and I was proud to provide a situation allowing him to do his work without compromise.

6. The role of the artist is to see what others do not.

Robert trusted the law of empathy, by which he could, by his will, transfer himself into an object or a work of art, and thus influence the outer world… He sought to see what others did not, the projection of his imagination.

7. Don’t just be a mirror of society, transform it.

I didn’t feel for Warhol the way Robert did. His work reflected a culture I wished to avoid. I hated the soup and felt little for the can. I preferred an artist who transformed his time, not mirrored it.

8. Keep your head in the clouds but your feet firmly on earth.

The artist seeks contact with his intuitive sense of the gods, but in order to create his work, he cannot stay in this seductive and incorporeal realm. He must return to the material world in order to do his work. It is the artist’s responsibility to balance mystical communication and the labour of creation.

9. The work is what matters.

… what matters is the work: the string of words propelled by God becoming a poem, the weave of colour and graphite scrawled upon a sheet that magnifies His motion. To achieve within the work a perfect balance of faith and execution. From this state of mind becomes a light, life-charged.

10. Art might not always make you cool or popular.

We were a crew of misfits, even within the liberal terrain of an art school. We often joked that we were a “losers’ salon.”

11. Delight in a trusting creative partnership.

Both of us [Patti and Robert] had given ourselves to others. We vacillated and lost everyone, but we had found each other again. We wanted, it seemed, what we already had, a lover and a friend to create with, side by side. To be loyal, yet free.

12. Believe in the “blue star” of your destiny.

When Robert and Patti were young and poor, only one of them could afford to go into a gallery at a time. The other waited outside, waiting to hear about it.

He waited for me, and as we headed towards the subway he said, “One day we’ll go in together and the work will be ours.”

13. You might struggle to find your medium.

I was getting frustrated with writing; it wasn’t physical enough.

Her whole career, Patti switched between visual art, writing and music. Robert investigated drawing, painting, creating installations and collage, but found many media frustratingly slow until he found the Polaroid camera.

14. But you will find signs that point you on the right path.

Patti went to see the Doors and reacted strongly to seeing Jim Morrison perform:

I felt, watching Jim Morrison, that I could do that. I can’t say why I thought this. I had nothing in my experience to make me think that would be possible, yet I harboured that conceit.

15. You will experience low periods.

In my low periods, I wondered what was the point of creating art. For whom? Are we animating God? Are we talking to ourselves? And what was the ultimate goal? To have one’s work caged in art’s great zoos – the Modern, the Met, the Louvre? I craved honesty, yet found dishonesty in myself… It seemed indulgent to add to the glut unless one offered illumination.

16. You will question yourself.

I had a lot of thinking to do about the direction I should be taking. I wondered if I was doing the right work. Was it all frivolity?

17. You will get blocked.

I taped sheets of paper to the wall, but I didn’t draw. I slid my guitar under the bed. At night, alone, I just sat and waited.

18. Be suspicious of early success.

Patti did a very well-received poetry reading set to music, and the force of her presence and personality made her an immediate star. But she did not choose to follow up all the leads that came out of it at that time.

It came, I felt, too easy. Nothing had come to Robert so easily. Or for the poets I embraced. I decided to back off. I turned down the record contract…

19. Don’t pause to take spoils.

I thought of something I had learnt from earring Crazy Horse: The Strange Man of the Oglalas by Mari Sandoz. Crazy Horse believes that he will be victorious in battle, but if he stops to take spoils from the battle field, he will be defeated… I tried to apply this lesson to the things at hand, careful not to take spoils that were not rightfully mine.

20. Don’t look back.

Patti came back from a trip to France and found her landlord had appropriated a lot of her things. She reacted with equanimity.

I slipped an envelope with the black and white shots of Woman I that I had taken at the Modern into my pocket but I left behind my failed attempts at painting her portrait, rolls of canvas splashed in umber, pinks, and green, souvenirs of a gone ambition. I was too curious about the future to look back… I said goodbye to my stuff… There’s always new stuff, that’s for sure.

21. If you miss a beat, create another.

Patti was nervous to improvise while writing a play with Sam Shephard.

When we got to the part where we had to improvise an argument in a poetic language, I got cold feet. “I can’t do this,” I said. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say anything,” he said. “You can’t make a mistake when you improvise.”
“What if I mess it up? What if I screw up the rhythm?”
“You can’t,” he said. “It’s like drumming. If you miss a beat, you create another.”
In this simple exchange, Sam taught me the secret of improvisation, one that I have accessed my whole life.

22. The truly talented don’t need to show off.

Auditioning members for her bad, Patti found pianist Richard Sohl.

[He] was nineteen, classically trained, yet he possessed the simplicity of a truly confident musician who did not need to show off his knowledge. He was as happy playing a repetitive three-chord sequence as a Beethoven sonata.

23. Never sell out.

I thought it was funny that Robert was so concerned about the content of my work. He was worried that I wouldn’t be successful if my work was too provocative. He always wanted me to write a song that he could dance to. In the end I would point out that he was a bit like his father, wanting me to take a commercial path. But I had no interest, and I was always too crude.

24. Life is not simple.

Although they shared a lifelong love, Patti and Robert struggled with his homosexuality, and how to define the bond they had together.

I learned from him that often contradiction is the clearest way to truth.

25. Practise, practise, practise til you hit your stride.

As Patti gets closer to the debut of her band, you can see all the different strands of her life to that point coming together.

From the dead of winter till the renewal of spring, we grappled and prevailed until we found our stride. As we played, the songs took on a life of their own, often reflecting the energy of the people. The atmosphere, our growing confidence, and events that occurred in our immediate terrain… The night, as the saying goes, was a jewel in our crown.

Images in this post:

Patti Smith on the cover of her album Horses, a photograph by Robert Mapplethorpe.
Just Kids, the book by Patti Smith.
Patti Smith, a photograph by Annie Leibovitz.

"You don;t possess art, it possesses you." François Pinault

2011-07-16T20:40:00.000-07:00

Lunch With François Pinault

The elusive billionaire art collector refuses wine.

By Jackie WullschlagerPosted Sunday, April 10, 2011, at 12:50 AM ET

François PinaultVenice or Paris? Five years after I first asked him, elusive billionaire art collector François Pinault has agreed to meet me for lunch and even offers a choice of location: Venice, where his showcases at Palazzo Grassi and Punta della Dogana form one of Europe's biggest private displays of contemporary art; or Paris, where his home is a hôtel particulier or grand townhouse in the centre of the city.

The non-negotiable element is that our conversation be in French, so I opt for Paris and e-mail his office to apologise for not being entirely fluent. The reply, in English, comes back instantly: "Monsieur Pinault is very kind about these things, and I am sure will behave as a gentleman."
The fact that this needs saying is revealing. A self-made luxury goods magnate, Pinault is internationally acclaimed for his cutting-edge art collection, consisting of 2,000 works, many acquired directly from artists such as Damien Hirst and Jeff Koons. But in France he has never shaken off a reputation as something of a wide-boy who made his wealth through takeovers of ailing companies, aided by political friendships; he is close to Jacques Chirac and Nicolas Sarkozy. "French people ... look at Pinault as a pirate," Le Monde journalist Harry Bellet told Forbes Magazine, which last year estimated Pinault's fortune at $8.7bn—reportedly the third-largest in France.

When I arrive at Sormani, a Michelin-starred restaurant off the Champs-Elysées, Pinault is already there: a lean, silver-haired figure with crystalline blue eyes, mobile features and a questing, slightly sarcastic expression. He darts out from among a gaggle of waiters to greet me: exquisitely courteous but also restless and looking at least a decade younger than his 74 years. Soberly dressed in sleek grey suit, blue shirt, dark purple tie, he apologises immediately that he must leave early, for a funeral. So we begin lunch at once, with Evian water and a plate of succulent mortadella presented on the house.

Pinault says he has chosen Sormani for its Italian connection, since we are marking the fifth anniversary, this weekend, of the François Pinault Foundation's inauguration in Venice. Pinault is a regular here and the maître d', knowing he will not bother with a menu, suggests asparagus to start, then fish. Pinault requests coquilles Saint Jacques (scallops), and when I decline shellfish, recommends the turbot. We both refuse wine: "I only drink in the evening, otherwise it gets complicated," explains the owner of Château Latour.

Sormani appeals because "c'est pas trop snob": important for a man such as Pinault whose empire treads a tightrope between exclusive art and fashion—from Gucci, to Yves Saint Laurent and Christie's—and a defiant non-elitism. I think this is why he favours expensive conceptualists such as Hirst and Koons, whose work depends on branding but is also aggressively anti-bourgeois. By contrast, "in France", says Pinault, "people think art stopped at the end of the 18th century. Well, perhaps a few curators go on to the 19th, and the impressionists. But then there is un moment de blocage. They close the curtains."

At his Paris home, he has negotiated an "arbitrage" between new art and the ancien régime furnishings selected by his wife Maryvonne. Less successful was an ambitious, long-running project to build a museum on the site of the former Renault plant at the Ile de Seguin outside Paris, which was halted in 2005 by bureaucratic obstacles. With the parting shot that "eternity is for art, not for projects designed to serve it", Pinault took his money to Venice, where he was embraced as rescuer of the Palazzo Grassi, languishing since the death of its former owner Gianni Agnelli of Fiat. Within a year, he transformed the Grand Canal palace into a contemporary museum, designed by Tadao Ando; after a fierce battle with the Guggenheim Museum, he also won control of the Punta della Dogana, Venice's former customs house.

"Italy is plus gaie," he says, with a wave at Sormani's glitzy decor of red-painted chandeliers, mock-classical reliefs and crimson velvet walls. "The Italians live well. They have problems, like all countries, but they are well-dressed, the women are pretty." Italian artists, especially Rudolf Stingel and Maurizio Cattelan, are prominent in his collection; French ones are not. "I don't look at an artist's passport," he protests. "My mission is not to forbid French art. If the quality is there, I buy; if the quality isn't there, I don't." The French, he notes, "don't buy art—perhaps it is the Catholic religion, they don't spend money on things that are superfluous."

The exception is Pinault's rival Bernard Arnault, an even wealthier luxury goods billionaire, whose plans to build his contemporary museum in Paris did get the green light: his Louis Vuitton Foundation for Creation, designed by Frank Gehry, opens next year. In advance, international dealer Larry Gagosian recently launched in Paris, suggesting that the French capital will become an increasing force in contemporary art. Does Pinault now regret relocating?

"Je ne regrette jamais," he says. "I have no sense of nostalgia. Tomorrow is what interests me." His collection will tour to Seoul this autumn, Brazil in 2014; art from Asia, Africa and Latin America is influencing western artists and vice versa, he says. "We're on our way to globalisation, this is a vision I like. Everyone knows Venice. It's Italian but belongs to the world, it's open to the orient. And the presence of the old, Tintoretto, Titian, in confrontation with the [contemporary] Biennale: we see art continue here. We must die but life continues in art. During wars, the crisis in Japan, art always delivers this small hope, never despair. Artists have a capacity to anticipate the world towards which we are going. The glory of Tintoretto is that art is not dead, the movement hasn't stopped."

Two plates of fat juicy green asparagus arrive. Pinault methodically cuts the tip off each spear, dabs it in mustard vinaigrette, eats it at a measured pace and leaves the remainder. As a symbol of the self-made entrepreneur's flight to quality, it is comically apt. For Pinault "started with nothing—no money, no qualifications, no diploma".

Born into a peasant family in Champs-Geraux, a village in western Brittany, he was mocked at school in Rennes for his rural accent and shabby clothes, and left at the age of 15. "I saw a bit of art in churches, things like that," but never entered a museum. Then, when he was 30, "a friend in Brittany, a Sunday painter, took me to an exhibition in Rennes of the Nabis and Pont-Aven school. There was no Gauguin, the things were not well-painted but the colours were vivid. My friend said, 'Look! Look!' I saw nothing, understood nothing but I went a second time, I made him go back. To insist: that is the Breton character".

That tenacity was also responsible for the success of his initial business, in the timber industry. Then in 1980, in London, he stepped into an auction house for the first time. "I saw a small canvas by [Pont-Aven artist] Paul Sérusier, a Breton scene of a farm with an old woman. I bought it because she resembled my grandmother. That was my first significant purchase. Then I looked, I read, and I galloped through the twentieth century—Picasso and the cubists, surrealism." A landmark was Mondrian's "Tableau Losangique II", bought for $8.8m in 1990, which announced the rigorous, cerebral nature of his taste.

"At first, you want to show you can do it," Pinault admits, punching the air with his fist, eyes gleaming, when I ask about the pleasure of the chase (his holding company is called Artemis, after the Greek goddess of hunting). "You buy in the mainstream, then you develop your taste and you don't need to follow anyone."

In the 1990s, he realised that from the postwar period onwards, "one could still find major things". "Everything earlier was already in museums, it was too late," he says. "Then—voilà!—I arrived at the contemporary. Two things mattered: the first, to do with my character, my curiosity for knowledge; the second, to be able to buy artists who count."

Pinault is a formidable player. At the 2007 Venice Biennale, for example, he bought the installation of Sigmar Polke paintings in the Italian pavilion just before interested museum directors arrived "un peu après". Nevertheless, there have been complaints that his programme in Venice changes too slowly, and fails to attract the visitor numbers achieved under Fiat's reign. The new display of works beginning this weekend, however, is addressing some of the criticism; notably there will be a more clear-cut division between Palazzo Grassi, to be used for short-term exhibitions—The World belongs to You opens there in June—and Punta Dogana, where In Praise of Doubt, a long-term museum-style presentation opens on Sunday at Punta della Dogana. This includes works by Koons, Subodh Gupta, Paul McCarthy, Bruce Nauman, Cattelan and—significantly positioned at the entrance to the exhibition—Donald Judd.
"Mon propre goût," Pinault says suddenly, as our main courses appear, "is minimalism—Donald Judd, Robert Ryman, things assez mystique, big white paintings." He stabs at his scallops, pushing the accompanying spinach to one side as irrelevant. "But I didn't want to be a maniac, collecting just one thing, imprisoned in a sole period. So—j'ai enlargi la palette de ma connaissance [I widened the scope of my knowledge]. Also a spirit of tolerance made me look more broadly."

As I savour my buttery turbot, served with delicate morels and spring vegetables, I wonder what drives an entrepreneur in the desire to possess and then share works of art. Is it a penance for the ruthlessness of business, or a civilising veneer, or a balance to worldliness?

"There is certainly a form of equilibrium between the material life of business and the life of art," Pinault concedes. "The passion for art is, as for believers, very religious. It unites people, its message is of common humanity. Art has become my religion—others pray in church. It's a banality, but you don't possess art, it possesses you. It's like falling in love."

This is said without irony, and confirmed by anecdotes: consultant Philippe Ségalot, for example, recalls accompanying Pinault to see a Carl Andre floor sculpture; after half an hour of silent viewing, Pinault said, "I have no choice" and paid $7m for it. Like many collectors, he is particularly enthused by his newest discoveries—he mentions Algerian installation artist Adel Abdessemed and Leeds-born sculptor Thomas Houseago ("he looks like Rodin!"), both significant presences in this weekend's Dogana opening.

Does he ever make mistakes? "I can go wrong but not heavily. Collectors are like artists, there are days when you are less en forme, you are tired, it's not so good." It is a "fixed rule" that he sees everything he purchases, mostly at studio visits. I propose that he is too powerful to go wrong: his interest in an artist is enough to make a career soar. At this, the competitive streak, politely downplayed so far, rises. "Yes, Gagosian comes to my shows and a fortnight later goes to see the artists and puts them under contract!" Pinault laughs, adding, " He is terriblement efficace, j'aime bien cet homme! He has the energy, the regard, the intelligence."

A good collector, Pinault says, "needs an eye, emotion, the capacity to feel something in a work. You can be a cold brute in business; you don't need feelings: it's effective to eliminate them. But in art everything is about emotion."

I quote Sergei Shchukin, great Russian collector of Matisse: "If you feel a psychological shock before a work, buy it without further ado." "It's the same with me," Pinault exclaims, recalling a visit to African-American artist David Hammons. He was so shocked by the work that he left, then returned and bought two pictures. "You don't want anything trop aimable—c'est la séduction. There should be no seduction. You need shocks—Damien Hirst, for example, is having a difficult time now but that's experience. Anyone who goes through life without tests and difficulties—huh!" He shrugs dismissively and apologises again that he must leave for the funeral. As I sample a violet meringue from the sprinkled array of petits fours that comes with the bill, the prince of luxury hastens away from the table with a grin: "I live as if I have eternity before me but every morning I say, 'It could stop here.'"

This article originally appeared in Financial Times.

City windows

2011-07-09T13:42:00.000-07:00

I am still playing with different installation views that these new paintings offer. The possibilities are endless. This excites me, but it also could be frustrating at times, as I feel that I must commit to a certain arrangement. So I decided to photograph various installation views, which will allow for flexibility in site-specific projects. Moving the canvases around and shifting their places is also very helpful for me in terms of seeing how the different pieces can be combined in groups of three. The gray panels serve as a neutral background that allows me to see clearly which of the canvases fit together and whether or not they are in a dialogue. It also allows me to see the larger picture and to sense the emerging themes. Once I commit to uniting three pieces, I then fasten them together and paint over again in order to create a flow between them and to fuse some of the hard edges. I often add new images on top of the existing ones, blend things together, glaze over to subdue some of the colors, draw new images, add details or change certain colors and shapes. This is necessary because once the three paintings are together, they demand a new light center, or they whisper a theme that needs to be emphasized.

Here is the newest composition. I have just photographed it and decided to share with you.

click on the image to enlarge

To me, this installation view creates the effect of looking through the lit windows of a city building, revealing glimpses of urban life. The gray spaces allude to the concrete walls of a city building. Aesthetically they provide neutral spaces between the images, so each work is experienced simultaneously as a separate and shared entity.

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Продължавам да си играя с различните композиции, която тези нови картини предлагат. Това ми е страшно интересно, защото възможностите са безкрайни. В същото време осъзнавам, че трябва да се спра на конкретна композиция. Понеже все още не искам да направя това, реших да снимам различните композиционни възможности преди окончателно да реша на кой вариант да се спра. Разместването на платната е много полезно за мен и от гледна точка на начина, по който различните картини могат да бъдат групирани в триптихи. Сивите платна служат като неутрален фон, който ми позволява да видя ясно кои картини се комбинират добре и дали са в диалог. Това ми позволява да доловя концептуалните теми, които стават все по-осезаеми. След като реша кои три платна да обединя, прикрепвам ги едно към друго и започвам да рисувам отново. Често се налагат промени в композицията или подмяна на определени цветове, детайли, форми. Обединени в триптих, картините изискват нов светлинен и композиционен център или ми подсказват тема, която искам да подчертая.
Тук показвам най-новата композиция. Току-що я снимах и реших да споделя с вас.
За мен, тази композиция е като надничане през осветените прозорци на сграда. Сивите квадрати намекват за бетонните стени на жилищтна сграда. Естетически те създават неутрални пространства между картините-прозорци, така че всяка творба може да се възприеме едновременно като индивидуална картина или като част от цялото.

to see more go to www.ginabrezini.com

Games of Power

2011-07-04T23:02:00.000-07:00

The pleasure of this project is that it allows for a certain playfulness. The challenges come from the fact that I use the squares of the various canvasses almost like brushstrokes when I rearrange them. Because this whole approach is so new for me, and the scale of these unusual “brushstrokes” is so much larger than what I am used to when I paint, it makes the choices somewhat tricky. Besides, I am a Libra, and Libras are famous for having difficulty with making a decision. The remedy for this, I feel, is to use ALL possible arrangements I can come up with now, and utilize them when opportunities arise. Depending on the space in which the works are exhibited, I will have the freedom to organize them in whatever way is most suitable for a specific space.

click on the image to enlarge

I like to “stay” with the pieces I make. It’s a kind of meditation in which I just sit with the painting and let it “talk” to me. It actually does. It’s sort of like listening to new friends in order to get to know them. I like spending time with my paintings and becoming friends with them. They offer quite amazing insights. And they inevitably help me to see another part of me.

In this installation view the checkerboard arrangement is referring to the most ancient of all games of power.

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Едно от удоволствиятя на този проект е че ми позволява да се заиграя. В същото време трудността му идва от факта, че пренарeждайки различните платна, използвaм квадратите почти като мазки на четка. Tози подход е толкова нов за мен, а и мащаба на тези необичайни "мазки" е толкова по-голям от това, с което съм свикналa когато поставям боя върху платното, че изборът на краен вариант съвсем не е лесен. Освен това аз съм Везнa, a Везните са известни с колебанията си при вземане на решения. Цярът разбира се е да използвам всички възможни варианти, които могат да ми хрумнат в момента, и да ги използвам в подходящия контекст когато му дойде времето. В зависимост от пространството, в което излагам творбите, ще имам свободата да ги подредя по начин, който е най-подходящ за конкретнoтo място.

Харесва ми да диалогизирам с картините, които правя. Това е един вид медитация, в която аз просто седя с тях и ги оставям да "говорят". Те наистина правят това. Това е нещо като да изслушам нови приятели, за да ги опозная. Харесва ми да прекарвам време с картините си, така се сприятеляваме. Понякога те предлагат невероятни прозрения. Често ми помагат да открия непозната част от себе си или предлагат ключ за нещата, през които преминавам в момента.

В този вариант, шахматната композиция събужда мисли и асоциации свързани с най-древната от всички игри за надмощие.

to see more go to www.ginabrezini.com

The Amazing Mark Kostabi on the Secrets of SELLING ART IN HARD TIMES

2011-06-24T12:56:00.000-07:00

Mark Kostabi and Veronica De Blasi on stage during one of Galleria Spagnoli’s “Settimana dell’Arte” on the island of Sardinia

Ask Mark Kostabi

SELLING ART IN HARD TIMES

by Mark Kostabi

“Anyone who can sell a painting today deserves a gold medal.” Those were the words I heard this morning from Giuseppe Orler, my biggest client, a dealer based near Venice. With his brothers, Giuseppe owns four galleries and ordinarily sells vast quantities of art via television infomercials with call-in numbers. But Galleria Spagnoli, headquartered in Florence, to which Orler consigns art, deserves hundreds of these medals. How so? How does Spagnoli prosper in today’s art market? Listen closely, because I’m about to tell you a tale unlike anything you’ve heard before. It all went down last week at the Hotel Baia di Conte, a vacation resort in Alghero, Sardinia.
Renzo Spagnoli is a seasoned Italian art dealer who invented what you could call the “resort system” of selling art. He has six galleries in vacation resorts throughout Italy, and anyone who buys art from them gets invited to one of his all-expenses-paid one-week resort vacations. Skiing in the winter, beach in the summer.
During the week, which is called “Settimana dell’Arte” (“Week of Art”), in addition to offering free hotel rooms, free meals and free vacation activities, Spagnoli puts on art shows, lectures by visiting art critics (like Vittorio Sgarbi and Luca Beatrice, who have both curated the Italian Pavilion in the Venice Biennale) and auctions.
Guests aren’t obligated to buy art during the free vacation, but if they enjoy two consecutive free vacations in a row without buying anything, they won’t get invited back (unless they are normally very big spenders, in which case they may get a third free pass).
Renzo Spagnoli, via his daughter Beatrice, an athletic beauty with short hair and three tattoos (one on her neck, one on her ankle and one that I have only heard about), had been imploring me to attend their latest “Week of Art.” She claimed that if I failed to attend, the gallery would still have success selling my paintings -- but if I did attend, sales would definitely double.
Since I don’t sell directly to Spagnoli (he gets my work on consignment from Orler and other dealers), I felt no obligation to go. After many calls, however, I finally said yes when the company agreed to pay me a special cash fee upon arrival on Wednesday. Once I showed up, I only had to remind them one time about the cash-filled envelope and it appeared as well. I prefer to get the envelopes at the airport after baggage claim, or if it’s an especially fat one, after check-in at the hotel, so it can go straight into the safe in the room.
After I got the envelope the fun began. Actually, there was no work for me the first day. Just a private dinner away from the resort. They said I had to be unseen, kept away from the eager clients, until the perfectly timed, dramatic “moments of privilege.”
The first “moment of privilege” came at 2 pm on Thursday, after the gallery clients had been sufficiently spoiled with a free lunch. Four of my paintings were displayed on easels on a set with two armchairs, where an art salesperson, Veronica De Blasi, interviewed me for a one-hour “talk show” in front of about 200 attendees, all qualified art collectors.
At the end of the talk, the host and I invited the audience into the “Sala Kostabi” (Kostabi Room), where about 40 of my paintings were on display, salon style. In the Sala Kostabi I discussed several works, the ones I felt most confident analyzing.
At the end of my remarks, many of the guests wanted to talk with me and be photographed with me, which I would have been happy to do -- but I was whisked away to rest in my room, which created further demand. It was announced that “Maestro Kostabi will be available for photos and to dedicate purchased paintings on Friday at 12 noon.”
The second “moment of privilege” was scheduled for 10 pm Thursday evening. After the clients had again been sufficiently wined and dined, they were herded to an outdoor amphitheater. The show began with a video projected on two large screens flanking the stage. Galleria Spagnoli itself had produced the video last year, for a previous “Week of Art” (which I could not attend) in Tunisia.
The video was a portrait of me, primarily giving a tour of my Rome apartment and underlining key tabloid points of my career, like my designing album covers for Guns n’ Roses, having 60 solo shows in New York, being collected by major museums and directing Kostabi World, my New York studio known for its numerous painting assistants. The video also showed me playing my concert grand Hamburg Steinway, since many art dealers like to add the information that I’m also a composer. It’s all part of the “Renaissance Man” marketing angle.
After the eight-minute-long video ended, curtains majestically parted while music from my latest CD, The Spectre of Modernism, enveloped the amphitheater. Dazzling colored lights moved across the stage amid billowing smoke while a large white cut-out of one of my signature angels slowly rose upwards towards the heavens. (They don’t do this stuff at Chelsea gallery shows).
I watched the spectacle from the front row of the darkened audience. Suddenly, Beatrice, the tattooed hard-body, clutched my hand and ushered me backstage. I was told to emerge as soon as I heard my name, MARK KOSTABI, dramatically announced by Veronica De Blasi (who is, by the way, another hard-body). They told me not to trip on the cables.
After Veronica prefaced my impending emergence with an epic tabloid preamble, I heard my name, MARK KOSTABI, thundering into the packed amphitheater. Two handlers gave me a little nudge. I was careful not to trip on the cables and, feeling like it was my first David Letterman TV appearance, smilingly sauntered onstage, waved to the masses (all but invisible to me behind blinding stage lights), double-kissed Veronica, who wore a bright red dress, and slid into my armchair for interview number two of the day.
This interview had to be only 10 minutes long, however, not an hour like the 2 pm talk show, because the real event was the auction that was to follow. I focused and gave the best interview I could, especially since it was handsomely paid for and I wanted more of the love.
Whatever I said must have worked, because the audience applauded several times during the session. Suddenly it was over and I was quickly delivered to a dinner for two (me and another salesperson, who was supposed to bond with me in order to ensure his future sales credibility) at a restaurant far from the resort. The organizers didn’t want the artist -- me -- to witness the details of the actual, possibly bloody, auction.
The third “moment of privilege” occurred the next day, the moment of truth, Friday at 12 noon, as promised. I showed up five minutes early to the Sala Kostabi, which was empty of people though two stacks of about 20 of my paintings, in gold Baroque frames and tagged with Post-It notes, were leaning on the walls.
“Wow! They sold all these last night?” I unspooled my China Marker to prepare to write the personal dedications on the backs of the canvases. Suddenly the room filled with the clients who had bought the works, appearing like angels. I patiently dedicated each painting to each collector, explained the ideas behind the works, posed for the photos you’re seeing alongside this Artnet Magazine article and asked each collector where he or she lived. Torino, Torino, Milano, Palermo, Roma, Roma, Roma, Roma, Roma, etc. I live in Rome and show in Rome but most of my Roman collectors buy my work from other places.
This story illustrates a basic truth about selling art in a shrunken economic climate: It’s all about events and preparation. That’s why you still hear about success at art auctions and art fairs, which involve theatrical selling, while the picture for regular gallery sales (and in Italy even TV sales) is bleak.
What’s more, events are not enough. To sell art now, you need high quality work. (Sorry for using this cliché. Everyone says that quality is the key to success in tough times, and while it’s not the only necessary ingredient, it is important.)
For anyone who thinks my success is primarily due to hype and theater, I wish it were that easy. Most people agree that the quality of my work ranges from genius to slightly less than genius (except for Donald Kuspit, who has said it’s all worse than bad).
The collectors at the resort in Sardinia were very careful to choose the best paintings, the ones that could be sold in flush times in a matter of seconds by anyone. They enjoyed the party, had an art experience they can remember all their lives, got a good deal, and are now enjoying the new paintings in their collections.

MARK KOSTABI is an artist and composer who lives in Rome and New York. He produces and stars in The Kostabi Show, a television game show. Please send responses and questions to askmarkkostabi@yahoo.com

M.F. Husain

2011-06-11T05:08:00.000-07:00

I met Husain in 2008 in Dubai where I was painting murals for the Atlantis. A few months later I went back to visit him again, with the task of making a portrait of him. I was working on a project which explored "the contemporary gods" of today's India, and he was high on everyone's list. Husain had a "following" that expanded way beyond my imagination. The meetings with this man are among the most memorable and rewarding experiences I have ever had. I enjoyed the magnificent presence of the legendary maestro, and I loved the free spirit of this remarkable man.

I post the following text as a tribute to a great artist and a wonderful human being.
Reprinted from http://www.artdaily.org/index.asp?int_sec=2&int_new=48139

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Срещнах Хюсеин през 2008 г. в Дубай, където рисувах стенописите за Атлантида. Няколко месеца по-късно го посетих отново със задачата да направи негов портрет. Приготвях проект, чийто фокус бяха "съвременните богове" на днешна Индия, и той беше пръв в списъка. Хюсеин имаше повече почитатели отколкото човек може да си представи. Срещите ми с този човек са сред най-запомнящите се преживявания, които някога съм имала. Беше невероятна чест да съм в присъствието на легендарния маестро, чиято топлота и великолепна осанка запечатах в дузина картини посветени на него. Ще запомня завинаги вътрешната сила и свободния дух на този забележителен човек.
Публикувам този текст в знак на почит към един велик художник и прекрасен човек.

India's Most Prominent and Sought-After Painter, M.F. Husain, Dies at Age 95

In this June 7, 2007 file photo, M.F. Husain, India's most famous artist, finishes off a canvas he painted together with Bollywood actor Shah Rukh Khan, unseen, during a fund-raising auction in central London's auction house. News reports say Hussain has died in London Thursday, June 9, 2011. Hussain had lived in self-imposed exile in Dubai since 2005 after coming under attack from Hindu hard-liners in India for a nude painting of a woman shaped like India's map. No details of the cause of his death were immediately known. AP Photo/Lefteris Pitarakis.

By: Muneeza Naqvi, Associated Press

NEW DELHI (AP).- M.F. Husain, a former movie billboard artist who rose to become India's most sought-after painter before going into self-imposed exile during an uproar over nude images of Hindu icons, died Thursday. He was 95.

CNN-IBN TV channel quoted a friend, Arun Vadehra, as saying that Husain, often described as India's Picasso, died at the Royal Brompton hospital in London. His lawyer, Akhil Sibal, confirmed the death to The Associated Press.

Husain had lived in Dubai since 2006 after receiving death threats from Hindu hard-liners in India for a nude painting of a woman shaped like India's map, often depicted as "Mother India" in popular arts, folklore and literature. A nude of Hindu goddess Saraswati also angered the hard-liners.

No details of the cause of his death were immediately known.

The artist, whose full name was Maqbool Fida Husain but who was known simply as M.F. Husain, started out as a poster artist for India's prolific Bollywood film industry in the 1930s. Decades later, his paintings and even his simple pencil drawings became status symbols for India's wealthy elite, with his works commanding price tags running into millions of dollars.

Husain almost never wore anything on his feet. With his free flowing white beard and hair, he was an instantly recognizable figure in India's art world.

He first became well-known in the late 1940s as part of group of artists headed by Francis Newton Souza who broke with traditional Indian painting styles.

Husain was considered a master of color and lines, with works inspired by Hindu temple art and Cubism. His paintings could be a jumble of monkeys, elephants and horses from Indian folk tales and Hindu mythology, but his favorite subject was woman as giver of life and love.

"He will forever be India's greatest artist of all times," art collector Shashank Sinha said. "He was a pioneer. He led the art movement as a youngster and shaped the way Indian art has evolved."

Some of the artwork that angered the Hindu right had been around since the 1970s but came to their notice in the 1990s.

The most controversial painting shows a nude woman on her knees, creating the shape of India's geographic borders. It caused an outcry among hard-line Hindu groups that said associating India with nudity was disrespectful. Several legal cases were brought against him. His depiction of Hindu goddesses in the nude also provoked anger among some Hindus, especially because Husain is a Muslim.

In 2008, India's Supreme Court judges described "Mother India" as a work of art and cleared him of the charge of causing offense to Hindus, but criticism from radical groups continued.

Husain spoke of a desire to return home during several interviews in recent years.

"He wanted to return to India and was convinced that he would at some point," said Sibal, his lawyer. "But he was also quite philosophical and believed that the people of India loved him even if he was not physically present here."

Actress Shabana Azmi, a close family friend of the artist, said that she was "deeply, deeply saddened," to learn of Husain's death.

She described him as an "iconoclastic painter, a wonderful human being and a very good friend."

In a condolence message, India's President Pratibha Patel said Husain was "a world renowned artist whose extraordinary style made him a celebrity on his own right in the arena of contemporary paintings."

Serpent's Gifts

2011-06-10T09:56:00.000-07:00

This painting consists of three separate canvases joined together on the back. I have wanted to modify this piece for a while now. I was quite clear as to what I want to do with it in order to unite the images. Or so I thought. Once I held the brushes, however, the painting took over and I had no choice but to surrender to it. I love this feeling! I love when I am present for the images, and lose myself, and enter the painting, and become part of it. This feeling can hardly compare to anything else! Time stops, the world becomes silent and even I hardly exist…

This is where I started:

And this is what happened at the end of the day: the Serpent insisted to be present in the painting. In fact, it demanded to dominate it. So, with this painting I bow with respect to the Serpent, which has lent its body and its energy, to serve us in so many different ways.

click on the image to enlarge

Post-painting thoughts:

The Serpent is one of the main attributes of Shiva. So it really belongs in this painting, with him. It is also said to have given us the alphabet. The first alphabet (Phoenician) is inspired by the movements of the snake and the traces it leaves on the sand. As it happens, the Serpent in this painting is actually made of letters, weaving the poems of our lives and posing the eternal questions: What is the purpose of YOUR life? What trace will YOU be leaving?

The presence of the Serpent clarifies for me the themes that this painting addresses:

The choices we make (the paths we take);

The balance between Feminine and Masculine, Day and Night, Light and Shadow;

The twists and turns of Fate and Destiny;

The omnipresence of a higher power.

Words that evoke images, inspire the imagination and shape our reality.

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Тази картина се състои от три отделни платна съединени откъм гърба. От доста време исках да я променя. Бях доста наясно за това какво искам да направя, за да обединя отделните образи. Или поне така си мислех. Докато държах четките обаче, картината пое по свой си път и аз нямах друг избор освен да й се оставя. Обожавам това усещане! Обичам да се оставя на картината, да вляза в нея, да се загубя в лабиринтите й и да стана част от нея. Това чувство не може да се сравни с нещо друго! Времето спира, светът се смълчава и дори аз самата преставам да съществувам...

Ето как започнах:
(виж снимката по-горе)

А това се получи в края на деня:

(виж втората снимка)

Змията настоя да присъства в картината. В действителност, тя изиска да я доминира. Така че с тази картина се прекланям с дълбоко уважение пред Змията, която ни е дала тялото и енергията си, за да ни служи по толкова много невероятни начини.

Пост-живописни мисли:
Змията е един от основните атрибути на Шива. Така че тя наистина принадлежи в тази картина, с него. Казват, че Змията ни е дала азбуката. Първата азбука (финикийската) е вдъхновена от следите върху пясъка, които Змията оставя след себе си. Така се случи, че Змията в тази картина е направени от букви, изтъкаващи поемата на нашия живот и задавайки вечните въпроси: Какъв е смисъла на ТВОЯ живот? Каква следа ще оставиш ТИ?

Присъствието на Змията изяснява за мен темите в тази картина :
Изборите, които правим (пътеките които поемаме);
Балансът между женското и мъжкото начало, деня и нощта, светлината и сянката;
Неочакваните обрати на Съдбата;
Присъствието на по-висша сила.
Думите, които вдъхновяват образи, активизират въображението и формират реалността.

to see more go to www.ginabrezini.com

The gray of life

2011-06-08T14:12:00.000-07:00

Artists are often thought of as fickle and inconsistent. The truth is that life throws the curved balls of survival at us. It’s often by necessity, not by choice that artists stop in the middle of an otherwise engaging and exciting project. I haven’t given up the idea of sharing my process and thoughts. I simply have been caught into the business side of art—logistical, everyday matters that urgently need my attention. I’ve been attending to the gray and oh-so-important-for-survival side of life…

I miss making art.

I glance guiltily at the unfinished paintings that stare at me from the wall, as if asking insistently: “When are you coming back?” I lower my eyes with the heavy feeling of ignoring someone dear to me and I go back to finishing office tasks, writing proposals, searching for appropriate grants, making phone calls or fussing over details on the new websites.

I miss painting.

I miss MYSELF when I don’t paint. I long for playing with paint and entering The Zone of Making Creative Decisions.

Picasso said that Art is the most demanding mistress of all. But I’ve been neglecting my demanding mistress…

I wish I could paint from morning to dusk, every day; then talk about art with amazing fellow artists in the evening. I wish I could simply live in The Magical Zone of the Creative, without worrying about the mundane side of life….

I need sponsors, some generous Medici that loves my art.

IF

2011-05-26T15:54:00.000-07:00

This is my favorite poem. It has guided me in making decisions and it has lead me out of many tricky situations. But it has never been more valid for my life, as it is now… Here it is:

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubts too;

If you can wait and not be tired of waiting,

Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two imposters just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop, and build ‘em up with worn out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-an-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will, which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with kings—nor lose your common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count on you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling

Hotel Dana, Chicago

2011-05-24T10:26:00.000-07:00

Originally written on April 30, 2011

This is what I woke up to, this morning. It instantly shocked my system. I felt an acute longing for a smooth white ceiling of the sort that I have taken for granted all my life. The reassuring calm of the familiar. The simplicity of clean white beauty. The comfort of what is tested and proven to "work".

I glance around the room. What seemed like a cool trendy design yesterday, reveals itself today as a computer generated-environment of the most basic kind. The floor-to-top windows expose another computer-generated view of outside reality.

I thought that a shower will dissolve the feeling, but the over-sized bathroom is in three shades of beige, the color I associate with mediocrity. It seems that someone was in a real hurry to produce this design, or lacked the imagination necessary in order to give it life. Every single object in this room reminds me of the CAD sketches I’ve seen. Design by template. Lack of detail, absence of imagination and human touch; a lack of soul…

I feel odd in this environment. It is intended to have a designer look, to be modern, elegant and chic. But design means to put imagination into something and to breath life into it by making it unique. Not the case here, in this expensive boutique hotel in the heart of Chicago. Everything screams GENERIC in it. I feel like I am in a video game. This frightens me and I stay for a long time in the shower, feeling the warm water on my skin—the only natural, organic thing here. I allow myself to experience this simple pleasure, prolonging the experience as much as I can. It is soothing. I do have to go to the Art Fair again, but I decide not to rush today. Taking my time is the only thing that nurtures me right now; it supports my humanness.

As always with things that surface in my life, especially with the unpleasant ones, I wonder what I can learn from this. Why is this ugly concrete ceiling showing up in my life? And then it dawns on me: the color gray that I am trying to incorporate in my new project! The gray of raw concrete is staring at me from the ceiling of the room I woke up in. I gaze at the ceiling with increased curiosity. I wonder how I can introduce the feeling of cement in the gray canvases of my new project, emphasizing the emotional state that comes with living in a large urban center. Women trapped in cement…

I view everything that shows up in my life as a sign, as an answer to a question I previously posed; a guidance of some sort. The trick is to recognize it. It is awareness that helps us recognize the signs.

Photography Gallery at Artspan.com

2011-05-18T15:02:00.000-07:00

A selection of my photography is now available to view at Artspan.com. Artspan is a wonderful artist community featuring a huge variety of styles, medium and talent from all over the world!

New York in a Rolls Royce

You can see my "New York in a Limo" series by visiting ginabrezini.artspan.com.
As always, your comments are welcomed and encouraged. Please leave a note here or email me through the contact page at Artspan.

Powdered Sugar and Ashes

2011-05-13T19:54:00.000-07:00

Originally written on April 15, 2011

Powdered sugar and ashes on the altar of Venus and Mars in my bedroom. How appropriate! They have mixed in the little red container in the shape of a heart, in which I have offered lokum for Venus (she loves sweets!) and burning incense for Mars (he loves fire!). This particular incense, brought by the holly temples of India has the peculiar habit of staying intact in the firm column of the original shape after it had burnt out. This is the first time I’ve seen it crumble into an amorphous pile of gray ashes. Traces of white sweetness and GRAY ashes.

Introducing gray into my life, and into my art. Generally, I prefer intensity, colors and layering of paint, images and emotions. But now I am discovering the beauty of gray. Life cannot consist only of colorful, intense images and experiences, or equally active canvases, days or events. We need gray to rest and to appreciate the colors next to it. We need it to compare and enjoy.

I replaced the “loud” orange panels with gray ones. Zsuzsanna Ardó suggested it when she came by for a studio visit. I view the gray canvases as the mundane in life. The paintings then seem like intricate dreams or moments of awareness that burst with unexpected urgency and add color to our days.

I sense that I haven’t selected the right gray yet, the shade of gray that will allow the images to sparkle and shine. But I have made the first step—the step towards the ordinary. One cannot be always spectacular, always intense, and always "on"… I need gray—in my art, and in my life. It creates balance, it organizes the chaos and creates negative space upon which the eyes can rest in order to absorb the intensity of colors, shapes and images.

My life has always been a passionate mixture of vivid colors, dramatic events and extreme situations. This made me feel excited and alive. Now I am discovering yet another aliveness, in which gray sneaks in between intensity of perception and balances it out.

A New Inspiration

2011-05-09T13:25:00.000-07:00

Originally written in April 2011

I am truly excited about the new project as I am beginning to see the direction in which it is going! I mounted five 16 feet long aluminum railings on the biggest wall in my studio. I finally began arranging the new paintings, which have been keeping me curious and busy since October. Seeing them together for the first time inspired me to urgently start making more paintings, or at least the rough "drafts", so I can see how the different images relate to each other. I have already completed 30 canvases, and about 50 more are in their initial stage. I am anxious to finish more paintings, so I can "play" when I engage in the process of composing them. Once on the wall, the images begin to interact with each other, demanding their specific place within the whole.

The proportions of the installation are based on the Golden Ratio. That means that I'll make 104 small square canvasses which will then unite in a single large paintograph*. The number of canvasses might change according to the space I decide to utilize, but for now that is what I aim for.

What surprises me is that there are so many images stored inside me! They all need to come to life.

Paintographs* are mixed-media artworks merging a range of techniques that include photography and various painting methods.

******

Вълнувам се oт новия проект над който работя. Започва да се оформя в желаната посока. Монтирах алуминиевите лайсни на най-дългата стена в ателието и най-после започнах да подреждам картините, които рисувам още от октомври. Това ме вдъхнови да се хвърля в правенето на нови картини, поне в първоначалния им «суров» вид, за да видя как се съотнасят една към друга. На стената, платната започват да изискват свое собствено място в композицията на цялостната инсталация, но все още не съм сигурна как точно ще ги разположа.

Пропорциите на инсталацията са базирани на Златното сечение. Това означава, че проекта ще се състои от 104 малки квадратни платна. Засега. Броя на платната може да се промени. Вече завърших 30, и още 50 са в по-ранен етап. Иска ми се да завърша колкото може повече платна, за да мога да се «заиграя» в процеса на композирането.

Изненадана съм че има толкова много картини «складирани» в мен! Колко ли дълго съм ги носила в себе си?...

See My Work at "The Artists & Their Art"

2011-05-06T13:45:00.000-07:00

You are cordially invited to the opening party for EverGreene: The Artists & Their Art.

About the Exhibit: EverGreene: The Artists & Their Art showcases the personal artwork of roughly 65 artists who are current and past employees of EverGreene Architectural Arts. Their styles vary greatly and are, for the most part, a departure from the traditional style for which EverGreene is known.

EverGreene’s projects are largely collaborative efforts; the work of many artists is applied to each design, mural, decorative ornament, and finish; it is our express goal to make the finished artwork appear seamless, as if executed by a single hand. This exhibit, on the other hand, celebrates the personal expression of each artist; the aesthetic and material range of EverGreene artists when left to their own devices is truly remarkable to behold!

The exhibit is open to the public from 10AM- 6PM, on Friday, May 20 and Saturday, May 21.

The exhibition catalogue is online! evergreeneexhibit.tumblr.com

For more information on EverGreene, please visit www.evergreene.com

Dancing Naked

2011-05-05T11:13:00.000-07:00

I feel that “going public” is important for me at this time. It feels frightening to me, but there is no other way to move forward. Blogging is one of the ways to become transparent. Success is in transparency, in being open and sincere about who I am, what I stand for, and how I convey it to others.

I was often perceived as mysterious. In fact, I was simply private. It's part of growing up in a communist country where free expression was not particularly favored. “Losing” the mystery feels frightening to me. It seems like such a big part of who I am. In reality, it is probably acquired—a necessary defense that was protecting me in the past.

An artist is a public figure. Artists are often the conscience of society, they offer fresh viewpoints, thoughts, images and can see unusual connections between things. I feel that as an artist I must share my experiences, express my opinions, dare to voice them, and stand by them. Like Paul Klein does in his articles, risking to make enemies or incite respect.

As Jerry Saltz said: “An artist is someone who dances naked in public”.

So here I go—bravely naked for all of you to see.