My Appropriation Story...Biography and then some.

Old habits are hard to break, and even harder when YOU'RE old.

I am guilty of appropriation. But I vow... not in the future.
But how did I get here?

Here's the back story...

I could blame it on my revered High School Art Teacher, Mr. Levine. I loved him [not romantically]. He taught me a lot, but also some bad habits... including the DEADLY opaque projector technique.

High School - Photo by Robert Schimmel, double exposure.

I spent most of my spare time in High School in the Art room. Actually, spent some Chemistry, Geometry and Physics time in there, too. I was often fetched by a fellow student and dragged to class. My Math teacher, Babe Steen would just stand the hallway and yell - SCHIMMEL!!!! I only went to science classes [reluctantly] because Mr. Green was so cute. I would rather be in the art room than anywhere. But let us go back further...

When I was a very little girl, I was painfully shy. I started playing piano when I was 4. By ear. I have perfect pitch, and after my older brother's piano teacher left, I would walk over to the piano and play his lessons. My Mom was in the kitchen and thought Bob was practicing. When she realized it was me, she signed me up for lessons and immediately started thinking "child prodigy" and Julliard and the Ed Sullivan Show. Terror!

shy little girl in Reading, PA

I also started drawing when I was little.
I would stay in my room and draw. For hours. I always drew people. Or clothes [on people] or shoes [on people]. I can draw. I learned on my own. Did not get much help later on except a few classes I took on my own. What an easy kid for my parents to raise. Piano lessons, practice [ick] and quiet hours alone drawing or reading.

My favorite books were [and still are] about people. I read every biography book in my school. Mostly about Native Americans.
I still read biographies.

Left to my own devices [literally], I'll watch documentaries about PEOPLE.We went to the JCC in Reading, PA and I took lots of art classes. Ceramics was my favorite. I still have EVERYTHING I ever made, even if it's cracked or broken.

In 6th grade, I made a puppet. I put him a plaid kilt, and a Tam O'Shanter... I remember arguing with my teacher who insisted I had to decide whether he was Irish or Scots. What a bitch...how would I know the difference at 11? Now, on reflection...I'm thinking Scottish, I could swear it's the Black Watch tartan. I still have that puppet, too...molting away somewhere in a box. And now I know the difference.

In junior high, I really started thinking more about art and got great grades in drawing, and got an award for a portrait I did of my typing teacher [yeah... I'm THAT old]. Mr. Hobart really forced us to think outside the box... slapping metal rulers on the table and shouting "WAKE UP PEOPLE, it's the Pepsi Generation!"

I was not the "best" artist in school, that was Nancy Kintisch. And there were others. We were not in competition. The cameraderie in art rooms in high school was positive. But, encouragement on the home front was non-existent.

In the years between high-school and today... I bounced around colleges [4] and was an on-again off-again art major. I have to say, I learned very little in art class. One teacher I had for live drawing absolutely HATED me and ignored me all semester. At another college, one professor said "You know what you're doing, I can't teach you anything, just come back at the end of the semester with 12 paintings and I'll give you an A."
I was in a hard-edge acrylic non-representational phase for a while. But mostly, PEOPLE...always people. My degree is actually in Psychology [that's a long story about Eidetic Imagery experiments - on ME] ...but I did finish classes to get a BFA later.
Maybe I wasn't paying attention, or maybe it wasn't covered, but I never really learned how to BE an artist, how to make a living as a fine artist, how to get into galleries, or musuems, and I still don't know what a fellowship or residency is.
I'm not a joiner, and I need to learn things quickly. If I can't pick it up, I don't get it.
Well.. I got kicked out of graduate school since I could not pick a concentration. But, it was fun taking Textile design, and Surface design, and Metal work and Jewelry and Fiber Arts... even though I knew painting people was my thing.
And maybe fashion design...or shoe design...see, I'm still doing it!

So naturally, I went into retail. What a joke. But then came Display. Although I designed all sorts of things - from handbags to T-shirts to jewelry, my career in Display, Window Trimmer, Visual Merchandiser kept me alive. And fed the creative side of me. And painting on the side. Always painting.

Fast forward to the naughts. Frustrated in a corporate career, divorced, single parent... I decide to go get back into Art. After playing around with mosaics, I am finally SURE of what I want to do, a style, a technique I developed. Turning junk mail into tiles, and creating mosaics with them. Mosaics of PEOPLE. New husband, my angel, said quit your job and be an artist.

My first Mosaic experiment...a self-portrait

So, with an anthem to rock, we built a studio and never looked back.

Okay - it's gonna be people. What people? I scour through magazines and pull out photos. I paste them on my studio walls. I draw from them, I simplify, but... I am using photos from magazines for my subjects. Look, I never lied about it - it's just he way I worked. My whole vision was to USE those very objects - women's faces - and create something new.

My latest work is my last appropriation. The photo on the left is from W magazine, and is by Patrick Demarchelier. I loved this girl's face and the composition. So, I drew from it. I made enough changes that I believe it is "transformative," and the new piece has new elements I added...having started out thinking Tudor age then switched to a Renaissance feel. There she is on the right - in my messy studio. Either way, I am guilty of appropriation and that's that.

But now, I've decided to stop doing that. I have a lot of commission work going on through the next several months, but starting in the spring, I vow to create my own images and work from those.

In the spirit of letting go, I'm holding a clearance sale now through Christmas to clear out the studio and my head.

Looking forward to a new year and new direction. Cheers!

Sandhi

An article I wrote for...

...another publication.
I was just submitting a story, and who knows if it will be published?!
So, since I already wrote it, I'll post it here.
Yeah, it's a little long.

How grateful am I!

It took time, it was a struggle, I still have a long way to go, but what I have learned is “it’s never too late to be what you might have been” - George Sand.

I was the quiet kid, drawing in my room...the weird teen-ager hanging out in the art room. But when it was time for college, my girlhood dreams did not find footing in the real world. Maybe it was my insecurity, the lack of encouragement, or the times...just prior to the women’s movement. And, the endless loop of “no one makes it as an artist.” My parents expected me to be a wife and mother - not a professional, certainly not an artist.

I thought I had talent, but I was a shy and quiet kid -actually pretty shy until 30.

So, I did a million other things instead. I worked my way up in retail, all the way to the buying offices and management, and then chucked it to be a display artist. Dressing mannequins and making beds and doing window displays was incredible. I opened a business doing displays, creating props, designing stores...but my partner and I were not always watching the bottom line, became exhausted and closed after 6 years.

I got married and put husband #1 through law school. So, “someone” had to have the “real” job. The one with a steady paycheck and benefits. I had a baby. So, now I am breadwinner, parent, housekeeper, cook... No time for art, no support from husband.

I ended up in nonprofit. But, always, I had room in my home for artsy stuff. Husband one moved my art room into a closet, then into the laundry room, then the car port. I moved my self out of the house.

I created a new life for myself. Single parent with an art filled house. I made funky lampshades, I painted murals, I broke tiles and made a mosaic countertop, I made my own shutters, I put together a chandelier. Those “itches” were fun, but never really scratched...in a way that made me feel fulfilled.

Then, many years later, I met and married my dream husband. Adores me, supported my artistic dreams - built me a studio - gave me time and space to work and grow as an artist. A year into our marriage he said - the only way you’re going to make it is to put everything into it - quit your job!

I held my breathe and took the leap. No golden parachute. No trust fund. No MFA. We sacrificed a lot. No vacations, went from Kiehl’s to Oil of Olay. Ditched the suits and go to work in pajamas. Work, work work. Make art, find shows, galleries, sell, market, create a web site, pack, ship, file...oh yeah, and make dinner, do the laundry and help a kid through school.

I spend time every day in my studio. I spend time every day exploring every possibility - from researching galleries to looking for opportunities for pr, writing a blog, sending out emails, networking and planning art festivals [which includes filling out forms, applications - and then booking travel].

Today, my work is in several galleries in Los Angeles, Phoenix, Chicago and more... In museums, and in private and corporate collections throughout the world.

I had to accept the fact that I AM AN ARTIST. I didn’t need someone outside myself to tell me that. I appreciate my husband’s love and support. I put in the time, every day: dedication and focus to make this happen on my own terms, in my own way.

 What I have achieved is not an accident. And I am always excited about what’s next. I have more goals for myself, and am looking forward to more adventures!

I accepted: I didn’t need a professor, a degree or a family member to tell me what I knew inside...I am an artist. I am an artist because I say I am.

I love my life. I get to be who I am on a soul level every day. I have the love and support of my family. I love my family. I love my art. I love it when other people love my art.

I appreciate the opportunities. The opportunity love: to be a parent to the greatest kid and wife to greatest husband. The opportunity to make art, show art and sell art. The opportunity to help others.
My most rewarding achievements are: parenting, being a wife that loves and is loved, and finally having a career that I designed, doing what I love to do.

I am not perfect in this way - I don’t follow the rules. I am not sure I even know what the rules are. I do what I want, when I want, the way I want. Do you like what I do? Great. I didn’t get a formal education in my [now] chosen career. I know there are prescribed steps. I don’t have time to suffer in silence for my craft. I want to be happy, I want to be successful. There, I said it.

What I won't do, darn it!

I love my collectors. They obviously have great taste, they like my work! They "get it." Most of the time. But I have to say...at this point in my career, I am no longer open to "suggestions."

I've spent my lifetime developing a style, a technique, a voice. I do what I do because it works for me. It brings me great joy. I know what I like, I know what I'm good at.

I also know my art is not controversial, not earth-shattering... I utilize a couple of gifts and quirks - I am eidetic, I have synesthesia, I can draw, I can paint, I have skill in cutting up paper to make my work.

I create portraits, I think they're beautiful. I am inspired by women's faces, by fashion, by travel, color, or an idea. I'm not curing cancer, I'm not trying to be clever, I make pretty pictures.

I am not a performance artist. I don't arrange shoes or shower curtains "just so," I don't dig up galleries, I don't utilize bones or doilies or pornography in my work. I don't pee or smear poop on my work.

I usually don't paint men. I'm not great at landscapes. I might feel like painting flowers but it goes away.

I want my work - the work that comes out of MY HEAD to sell. I will not apologize for wanting to make a living as an artist. Sorry, I don't want to either suffer for my craft nor do I wish to sell out. 

I do NOT paint dogs. Or cats. I do NOT paint cars or motorcycles. I do NOT do company logos. Yes, people so insane for their pets and yes, people spend a fortune on them... and yes, people with money have cars.

I have friends who paint pets and motorized vehicles. They're really good at it, and they make money selling their work. And, they LIKE it! I have graphic artist friends who create logos for a living and they're happy, too.

Me, I'm happy making beautiful women out of little pieces of junk mail and discarded paper. It's my thing. I love it. I am thrilled to be able to make art every day. I am also thrilled when it sells. It's confirmation that this work makes my collectors happy, too.

I show my work in galleries, have had a few museum shows, and I continue to work hard making better work every day. Thanks to you who appreciate my point of view, I love you, too!

Visit my web site to see more...
Schimmel Art

and please email me to chat!
Sandhi