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

The connection between advertising and art [mine, anyway]

original ad [I found it]

An ad for Target a year ago was SO cute I hung on to it. A girl with a wistful expression and long straight hair in a cute spring dress...flowers in there somewhere.

original painting

A few weeks ago I painted a woman with long hair... and a long neck...and although I always start with a painting, my work doesn't always end up looking exactly the same [to me, anyway]. I still had that Target ad in my head. But, I didn't use it as a reference, and as someone with eidetic imagery, I didn't need it. It's not the girl from the ad.

I started the mosaic. I had drawn a lot of diverging lines, but ended up using only a few as a guide. Black, grey, white, cream... cutting all my pieces and placing them just so...

Somewhere in there, I decided on ditching flesh tones for the shadows. Gray highlights in her hair got a coating of periwinkle metallic glaze.

I found a piece of junk mail [to me, anyway] from a food bank in Israel [?] with gorgeous tones of periwinkle. That ended up being a key color, so I sorted through the "blue" box to find coordinating pieces. Nothing matchy-matchy.


What's the connection between advertising and my work? Well, for one thing, we're bombarded with images of beauty in advertising. They are the basis for the images I paint. Then, I use images from advertising to create my paper tiles.

No magazines, I use advertising that comes to me... mostly junk mail: flyers, postcards, catalog covers, advertising ephemera, fly cards, etc. Even gallery cards. 

almost done

I thought I was done. Background done. Stood back... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz bored?
Did it need something else?

I revved up that eidetic imagery and "remembered: that ad again - that original inspiration from a couple of years ago and decided to use that as a "jumping off" place. I designed and hand cut flowers. And stems. I placed them where I thought they ought to be. All the while thinking, geez this is going to look like that Target ad - busted!

But, after all - I'm no longer bored. There is no story to this image. No deeper meanings. Something beautiful that hopefully evokes an emotion. I really like it, and whaddya know, it looks NOTHING like the Target ad.

"Poppy"

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

The Journal in my Head

I've read that artists, designers & craftspeople keep journals: filled with inspiration from travel, gallery visits, etc. They're filled with sketches, swatches, tear sheets, photos... all for future use. I keep one too, but it's in my head.

I have a "thing" [call it a phenomenon, a condition, a talent or a quirk] called Eidetic Imagery. Here's the Wiki definition. Anyway, almost anything I see, that really makes an impression or resonates on some level, goes into that mental filing cabinet for future use. I can actually physically recall images from the past - a face, a place, a set of tiles, a painting... a movie... and see it in the air, as if there is a projector in my head, using my eyes as the lens... an invisible screen at my disposal is within 15 inches of my face.

I often stammer for words - just can't remember the right one...and please don't ask me what year something happened [other than birth of child or year of wedding] or what I had for lunch two days ago...or what I walked in here for... but images, they're always there for reference.

Another thing - my 8th grade science teacher told our class not to study - that we should "rely on our ability to recall," which I might have taken a little too much to heart - not knowing yet about Eidetic Imagery. I remember things that happened in that classroom [Hi, Gaelyn], but I would say, that's not the best advice for teenagers more interested in drawing daisies on their hand during science class.

So, my journal - my head - is filled with images of the classic works of art - from art museums and books, not to mention photos from magazines, charts, maps, comic strips, ruins in Ephesus, people I know, couture collections, my room in Reading, PA, my dorm room in Oneonta, my room on a Kibbutz in Israel, a pair of shoes I bought in Italy when I was 18, a pair of shoes I wore in that 8th grade classroom, the shoes I wore to my high school reunion, jewelry, paperweights, and the image of my husband the first time I saw him in a swimsuit [think Vitruvian Man]... you get the picture [!]... all jumbled and/or filed. And, all available for use.

I usually don't watch a movie more than once, I can see it any time I want. I actually watched "District 9" again the other day, it's so filled with images...but I really liked the story. I could watch "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" another 35 times... but that's just for laughs. I try not to watch scary movies, because the image stays with me forever.

Disclaimer: I do have a few photos taped up in the studio, but I rarely refer to them. I also have a drawer full of photos that might be a jumping off point someday. I do have a shelf full of books - art books, Dover books, reference books...about costume, medieval design, beaded flowers... all kinds of stuff. And, a lot of music to listen to when I'm working.

When I fill a canvas with thousands of images, photos, words... it all makes sense to me, I could point at my head and tell you "You should see what it looks like in here."

Eureka! How it all started... I found the photograph.

This is a photo taken in Venice, Italy. It's not a great photo, but read on...

As you may have read previously, I studied mosaics in Italy and Turkey.
The last day in Venice...strolling around... I came upon 2 things that caught my attention. They both had a profound impact on me.

One was a chandelier - multiple branches - with glass pendants. The fixture itself was simple, it was the glass that made me come close to drooling... why? Fruit. Apples, pears, grapes...so many colors...flowers, leaves, beads.
I asked the price - it wasn't too much, but the shipping was hundreds of dollars. About to board a train through Slovenia on the way to Hungary - schlepping a chandelier was not going to work. I took a mental picture... which is easy since I'm eidetic.

What might seem totally off the mark at this stage of the story is a beautiful story book I had as a child. The Arabian nights. In it, Aladdin makes his way into a cave, finds a tree dripping with fruit made of gems [looked like glass to me]. Translucent, colorful, startling...beautiful. Aladdin presents a bowl of these jewel fruits to a Princess to win her hand. The images from that book have never left me [once again, eidetic... I can pull it up on the screen in the air anytime]. I still have that book. So that chandelier really made an impression!

Anyway - as I am known to say - "I can make that," my search through Venice's tourist stores was a hunt for glass fruit, beads, flowers. I found nothing. I went back to the lighting store and asked if I could just buy the fruit? "No." Can you tell me where I can find them? "No." Back to the stores.

Through the door, I saw the stained glass mosaic you see above. I walked into the store and stared at it. Looks like a Mucha. Little squares of glass in many colors. On Glass. Grouted. In a metal framework. This time, the price was too high, forget about the shipping. Took a photo and moved on.

I never forgot the chandelier or the mosaic.

It took me 18 months of searching, bidding on ebay, visiting antiques and lamp repair stores, web sites, etc. to accumulate enough glass and crystal fruit to create my own chandelier. Hard to see, but there are apples, pears, grapes, flowers, pendants, etc.
Of course, within a week of assembling this, a store here in Phoenix is carrying the chandeliers from Venice.

The portrait also stayed on my mind. "I can make that," my mantra... became a reality, of sorts. I found small squares of glass. I glued them to glass, grouted it... not bad. Made a geometric, a flower, a woman. Problems I ran into:

1. I couldn't find the colors I wanted.
2. I couldn't find little squares
3. I don't like to cut glass
4. I didn't want to use stained glass pieces - too thick, too opaque.
5. I couldn't afford to go back to Venice to find out more.

I tried finding more info about that piece online to no avail. Not done, though. What else could I use? At that moment, my parents arrived with a box of greeting cards and a paper cutter.
Aha... maybe I'll use paper, instead of glass!
I pulled a self-portrait off the wall - willing to sacrifice it to experimentation. Cut "tiles" out of cards. Glued them on the painting.
Eureka!


Okay, now that I found the photo [after many years]... I can see that what I do now has evolved from the initial inspiration to something completely different... but that image never left my mind. I credit that moment in a store in Venice with what has become my medium of expression.

I guess when I say "I can make that," I usually do.

Inspiration is a jumping off point... all of us artists - in every medium - start with a grain of an idea and create...everything beautiful.

Thanks for reading!

Previous Lives leaking into this one?

I had a recurring dream when I was in high school. The dream was in third person - Instead of seeing out of my eyes, I saw myself. I was an Italian soldier during World War II. I was young, handsome - in uniform. During a skirmish in St. Peter's Square -- "I" was shot in the back. Of course, at the time, I didn't know it was St. Peter's. As if it was a film, I saw myself falling / dying - toward the camera.

I was about to go overseas for the summer, and the dream seemed like a portent - an omen of doom. My friend Sharon & I were heading to Italy after a 2 month stint on a Kibbutz in Israel. When we arrived in St. Peter's, I freaked. That was the location of the dream [the converging lines, the colonnades. So, from that time on, I'm convinced that was a previous life.

I'm into some crazy metaphysical stuff - and had my akashic records read [stick with me]. In this reading, I found that another previous life had been lived as a nun who went into the convent against her will - and one who had taken a vow of silence. This is supposed to explain why I talk too much in this life.

This is just the tip of the iceberg of my weirdness... but as I posted my newest work on my web site, I noticed a theme... a Catholic Saint [from Italy], an Italian opera, an Italian painting... what's going on in my head?

I've always had a thing for images of the Madonna [the first one], golden halos, Russia Icons and women's faces. So, I'm not surprised these elements are showing up in my work. And, the mosaic tradition continues.

I love opera - Italian, of course.
The most beautiful place on earth? Venice... and where I studied the amazing mosaics at St. Marks.

And, with eidetic imagery and art history hanging out together in my brain, artwork I've seen before is finding its way into images I create today.

So, there seems to be a theme happening...?! The newest piece is the beginning of a series of Icons. This one is "St. Catherine of Bologna - Patron Saint of Artist." The top image is entitled "Tosca" and look - I've done Boticelli's Venus 4 times!

A little strange... my background is Hungarian, Jewish, New Yorker. Anyone in the mood for a nice seafood risotto?