SQUARESPACE doesn’t want to let me post, so i’m trying this angle: posting todays blog on yesterdays post to see if that works.
JANUARY 4, 6:11 PM: i’m posting unusually late today because we’re just back from a trip to salida for doctos appointments. nothing special; just check-ups.
i did have time this mornig however to turn 1/1/2022 oil into day 3 of 1/1/2022 oil/collage. the newly collaged elements are on the top 50% of the composition.
BELOW is a comparative view, with todays version on the right. i’ll be doing mor ein the morning. already, the whole compoistion has transformed. the question is: will i be able to do what needs to be done, putting the integrity of the composition first, without touching those beautiful bathers down below?
right now, the compostion seems more crowded than yesterday. an interesting challenge awaits me in the morning! i may have to start a new one to take my attention away and prevent me focusing on just this one painting.
1/1/2022 oil as it looked moments ago
3:02 PM: I worked solely on the upper half of the painting, since I didn’t want to upset the delicate balance of the while spaces surrounding the faux bathers on the faux beach in the lower portion I worked on yesterday.
I added the observer deck with its railings to the composition.
I found this article about Lithuania’s Golden Lion-winning performance at the 2019 Venice Biennale on artnet.com.
It’s Hard to Make Good Art About Climate Change. The Lithuanian Pavilion at the Venice Biennale Is a Powerful Exception
The pavilion presents a subtly unnerving performance about the laziness that leads to the end of the world.
Julia Halperin, May 10, 2019
So much art about climate change is bad. It’s preachy, literal, unimaginative, and hung up on aerial shots of floods or topographical maps. By contrast, Lithuania’s pavilion at the Venice Biennale, titled Sun & Sea (Marina), is a revelation. It is a chilling work about climate change that is also an opera about a day at the beach.
From a balcony on the second floor of a warehouse in Venice, viewers look down at a sandy tableau, where performers of all ages and sizes splay out on towels under beach umbrellas, scrolling through their iPhones and thumbing through magazines. The sounds of seagulls and ice cream trucks echo in the distance. One by one, the vacationers sing about a world very similar to our own, full of minor inconveniences.
you can find the is article, as well as a few others, here: https://news.artnet.com/art-world/lithuanian-pavilion-1543168