Rainier in L.A.

If you are in Los Angeles this summer, or specifically in Pasadena, stop by the Pacific Asia Museum and see Kristina Hagman's series of color woodcuts, 36 Views of Rainier, on view at this fantastic museum through July 15th.  Since its exhibit at Cullom Gallery last June, this series has remained a favorite, and although Kristina is now based in Los Angeles, her work remains available in Seattle, at Cullom Gallery, including a few new urban views of Santa Monica, available now in the gallery, and soon online.  

Pacific Asia Museum

36 Views of Mount Rainier: Woodblock Prints by Kristina Hagman

Date/Time: May 18th-July 15th; museum hours Wednesday through Sunday 10 a.m. to 6 p.m.
Location: Pacific Asia Museum, 46 North Los Robles Avenue, Pasadena, California 91101.  (626) 449-2742
Cost: $9 General Admission; $7 for Students and Seniors; Free for members and Kids 11 and under

More info at pacificasiamuseum.org

Kristina Hagman.  Georgetown Autumn.  From the series, 36 Views of Rainier.
Color woodcut.  10 x 12 inches

Installation view, Kristina Hagman: 36 Views of Rainier, Cullom Gallery, June 2011.

Hatchings Highlights

With just two weeks to go, I want to thank everyone for the great response we've had to the Hatchings series these past three months.  I have been pleased to have Rumi Koshino, Robert Hardgrave, and Brian Lane as guest curators for the run of these shows.  Their artistic vision has brought a new selection of art, artists, and their fans to the gallery, and has allowed me some valuable time with our new daughter, Summer, who was born at the end of March.  A big thanks to these three talented artist curators.

Below are a few highlights from the three shows.  And a reminder that Brian Lane's exhibit, Texture of Being, continues at Cullom Gallery through June 2nd.  Then it's back to work for me, and an exhibit of Eva Pietzcker's woodcuts of Washington State, opening June 7th.  

Gala Bent.  detail from Inverted Mountain 3. Graphite and pigment on paper.
Courtesy G. Gibson Gallery. From the exhibit, Open Interval, curated by Rumi Koshino,
on view at Cullom Gallery, March 1 - 31, 2012

Gala Bent.  detail from Inverted Mountain 4. Graphite and pigment on paper.
Courtesy G. Gibson Gallery. From the exhibit, Open Interval, curated by Rumi Koshino,
on view at Cullom Gallery, March 1 - 31, 2012.

D.W. Burnam. detail from Nathaniel's Incredulity. Ink on paper ; 8-1/4 x 9-1/2 in. 2012.From the exhibit, Open Interval, curated by Rumi Koshino, on view at Cullom Gallery, March 1 - 31, 2012

 

 

Garek Druss.  detail from Beyond Perfect Listening. Watercolor, pen, and graphite on paper. 6 x 4 in. 2012.From the exhibit, Open Interval, curated by Rumi Koshino, on view at Cullom Gallery, March 1 - 31, 2012

Peter Taylor. The Angler and the Little Fish, 2012. Graphite on paper. 17 x 14 in. From the exhibit, Refable: Graphic Works Inspired by Jacob Lawrence and His Renditions of Aesop’s Fables, curated by Robert Hardgrave, on view at Cullom Gallery, April 5 - 28, 2012.

Hibiki Miyazaki. The Donkey in Lion’s Skin, 2012. Mixed Media. 20  23-1/2 in. From the exhibit, Refable: Graphic Works Inspired by Jacob Lawrence and His Renditions of Aesop’s Fables, curated by Robert Hardgrave, on view at Cullom Gallery, April 5 - 28, 2012.

 

Robert Hardgrave. Amphibious, 2012. Ink on paper. 21-1/4 x 18-1/4 in. From the exhibit, Refable: Graphic Works Inspired by Jacob Lawrence and His Renditions of Aesop’s Fables, curated by Robert Hardgrave, on view at Cullom Gallery, April 5 - 28, 2012.

 

Matthew Dennison. Bundle of Sticks, 2012. Ink on paper. 10 x 12 in. From the exhibit, Refable: Graphic Works Inspired by Jacob Lawrence and His Renditions of Aesop’s Fables, curated by Robert Hardgrave, on view at Cullom Gallery, April 5 - 28, 2012.

Annie Bissett.  Sometimes I'm Married, 2010. From a series of 5 moku hanga woodcuts. 6 x 8 in. each.  From the exhibit, Texture of Being: Human Experience in Relief Prints, curated by Brian Lane, on view at Cullom Gallery, May 3 - June 2, 2012.

Michelle Martin.  Observation #25, 2007. Reductive linocut. 15 x 20 in. From the exhibit, Texture of Being: Human Experience in Relief Prints, curated by Brian Lane, on view at Cullom Gallery, May 3 - June 2, 2012.

Charles Spitzack. Self Portrait, 2009. Sosaku hanga woodcut. 12 x 9 in. From the exhibit, Texture of Being: Human Experience in Relief Prints, curated by Brian Lane, on view at Cullom Gallery, May 3 - June 2, 2012

Brett Anderson. Promethean Truth & Glamour, 2011. Reductive woodcut.  20 x 15 in. From the exhibit, Texture of Being: Human Experience in Relief Prints, curated by Brian Lane, on view at Cullom Gallery, May 3 - June 2, 2012

Spring Hatchings

In preparation for a few months off with our new baby, who is expected in early April, I have turned over Cullom Gallery's curatorial work to three Seattle artists who I have had the pleasure of getting to know over the past few years.  In what we are calling the HATCHINGS series, I have invited these artists to each curate a show of works on or of paper, and in crafting their shows, lead with their own knowledge, interests, and connections.  Though at its heart, Cullom Gallery looks at the connection between Japan and the West through traditions of paper arts, there was no requirement that these curators connect to any part of that narrative.  I stressed that my only curation in the project was the selection of the three of them.  The rest would be whatever they came up with.

For me the process of "hatching" this series of exhibits has been another positive reminder of the 'letting go' refrain that is such a part of preparing for parenting.  I am deeply grateful for the commitment these talented artists and curators have given me.  They have embraced the concept of these exhibits and really run with it, allowing me time and space to hatch in other ways.  And as the exhibit release describes, these three diverse shows also "explore personal, artistic, and textural hatchings and cross hatchings."

Curator of the April HATCHINGS exhibit, Robert Hardgrave, designed the sumi ink design below to illustrate the series postcard and poster.  The shape of the image was intended to represent the intentions of the exhibit series: a texture of drawn hatching marks, and a five sided form representing the five of us involved - one gallerist, three curators, and one baby-to-be.  

All HATCHINGS shows will be up on Cullom Gallery's website.  Openings are on the first Thursday of each month from 6 to 8 pm.  More on each show to come in the following days and weeks.  

HATCHINGS March - May, 2012

Three Exhibits Curated by

Rumi Koshino - Open Interval, March

Three Seattle artists use visual form as part of their non-visual practice as writer (D.W. Burnam), mother (Gala Bent), and musician (Garek Druss) in works on paper. 

Robert Hardgrave - Refable, April

Twelve black and white works by notable Northwest artists based on Jacob Lawrence's classic renditions of Aesop's Fables.

Brian Lane - Texture of Being, May

Seattle's Print Zero Studios founder dips into his pool of local and national woodcut artists to explore facets of personal experience and the dream world.

Cloud Appreciation

A nice section of an interview with Cullom Gallery artist Binky Walker in Charles Mudede's article today in The Stranger, The Cloud Appreciation Society.  When I showed Binky's ethereal drawings of clouds in 2009, the gallery was still new as was this blog.  If you missed them then, here are a few images of the artist's beautiful meditations on the ephemeral nature of clouds. 

Binky Walker.  Triptych no. 1.  Graphite on paper.  Each panel: 8 x 8 inches.

Binky Walker.  detail, Triptych no. 1.  8 x 8 inches

Binky Walker.  Triptych no. 3. Graphite on paper.  Each panel: 8 x 8 inches.

Binky Walker.  detail, Triptych no. 3.  8 x 8 inches

The exhibit at Cullom Gallery was titled, ukiyo-e: pictures of the floating world, in a reference to the original pictures of the floating, or fleeting, world that were Japanese woodblock prints of the 18th and 19th centuries.  You can read more about the exhibit here, here, and here. 

Recently, Binky is hard at work on a new suite of single drawings, which we hope will be ready for exhibit at Cullom Gallery in late 2012.  The artist's new body of work continues her close observation and meditation on natural phenomena, this time looking at the transcendent properties of light.  I have been watching her progress with great excitement; the suite is perhaps her best work to date!

Finally, on what is a windy and rainy day here in Seattle, I couldn't resist including this short study for one of Binky's video projects in progress.  Title is Seeing the Wind.  Please stop by the gallery to see more by this talented artist.



Seeing the Wind from binky walker on Vimeo.

Cutting Edge: Paper Cuts by Ryohei Tanaka & Qiao Xiaoguang

This month and through October 15th Cullom Gallery is showcasing the work of two contemporary paper cut artists: gallery favorite and Tokyo native, Ryohei Tanaka; and Beijing-based Chinese artist Qiao Xiaoguang. The exhibit, Cutting Edge: Contemporary Paper Cuts by Ryohei Tanaka and Qiao Xiaoguang, offers two decidedly different takes on contemporary paper cutting from two cultures with deep roots in paper cutting traditions.  Below are a few installation shots.  You can also see the complete online exhibit here.  Tomorrow, October 1st, Qiao Xiaoguang's Beijng gallerist, Jan Leaming, will give a talk at Cullom Gallery at 2 pm.  Jan will offer insights into the rich history of paper cutting in China, the role of mythology and folk art in Professor Qiao's paper arts, and the future of contemporary Chinese folk art.  More on Jan's talk and other US events for Professor Qiao coming soon.

Qiao Xiaoguang (b. 1957)  (left) Food Recipe (right) Humans and Animals. 

Qiao Xiaoguang (b. 1957) several paper cuts from Qiao's Urban Landscape series

Ryohei Tanaka (b. 1977) Cutting Edge... Installation view

Ryohei Tanaka (b. 1977)  (left) Iroha (right) The Myth. 

What's So Japan About It? Part 2

During the month of May, in conjunction with Cullom Gallery's current exhibit, East by West (highlighting work by eleven different artists who draw on technical and aesthetic traditions of Japanese art on or of paper) participating artists are invited to comment on the question, What's so Japan about it?" as the question relates to their own work.  In the second installment of the series, Northampton, MA artist, Annie Bissett talks about her embrace of the technical properties of Japanese woodblock printmaking, and her departure from their historic content.  B.C.


This thing I do, moku hanga, is very Japanese. The term moku hanga is Japanese for woodblock print -- moku means wood and hanga means print. Woodblock printing was brought to Japan in the 8th century by Buddhists from China and was first used to reproduce religious texts. After a time colors began to be added by hand and then, as woodblock printing became the primary form of commercial printing in Japan, printers began to carve blocks for each color. Japanese woodblock prints, also called ukiyo-e, are known especially for their intense use of color and for the fact that the pigments are water-based rather than oil-based. Although admittedly I am a Japanophile, I didn’t start working with moku hanga because I wanted to do Japanese art. I learned moku hanga because I was trying to find an artistic medium that would suit my way of working, that was neither toxic nor messy, and that would be easy and compact enough to do on the side in my small home-based studio while I continued to serve my freelance digital commercial illustration clients. If you’ve ever seen a genuine Japanese ukiyo-e woodblock print, you know that the Japanese brought this art form to unimaginable heights of perfection. Because of this, working with the Japanese method of waterbased woodblock printing can be a difficult burden to bear. Not many of us 21st century western artists could hope to achieve the degree of perfection attained by the great 17th and 18th century ukiyo-e masters, nor do we need to try. Unfortunately, though, that type of work is what many people think of when you say "Japanese woodblock," so that's often the silent standard in their minds. I try to avoid this association by saying “woodcut,” “moku hanga” or even “woodprint,” a term I'm growing fond of.

Tsukioka Yoshitoshi (1839-1892)  The night is still... From 100 Aspects of the Moon.  Date: 1888

Like many moku hanga beginners, my first few prints were Japanese-y. I did a triptych of the Kamakura Buddha statue and a few tai chi figures. But after a year or so I began to find my voice. I realized that I could take liberties with the tradition, and the technique became a vehicle for the subject matter I was interested in. I'm an artist who is topic-oriented rather than process-oriented, so all my ways of working are in service to the idea behind the print. I make moku hanga maps from views of the earth I find on Google Earth, I imitate western printmakers when referencing western historical material, I do whatever I need to do to bring my idea to life using moku hanga.

Annie Bissett.  Borders #1: U.S. Mexico. Date: 2008.  14 x 22 inches

I'm often conscious of the Japanese-ness of the method as I work, however. How can you do a bokashi (color blend technique) and not compare yourself to the ukiyo-e masters? Making a bokashi connects you to Japan. Using washi connects you to Japan. The carving tools, the brushes, the process itself are very Japanese in their simplicity, their beauty, their form. I don't mind that. I love it, in fact, because I love Japan. Yet I find that I am able to make very American art using this very Japanese art form. That paradox is somehow part of the work and is often amusing to me. One print I made in my recent "Pilgrims" series needed to show two Pilgrims as an American Adam and Eve, and I wanted to show them making love. I couldn't resist referencing Utamaro's beautiful shunga (erotica) work, so I copied one of his poses and I think the little inside joke worked well.

Annie Bissett.  American Bible Story.  2009.  11-5/8 x 13-5/8 inches.  Japanese woodblock print.

As an artist, the work I want to make is about my life, my country, my world, my worries, my cares and concerns. If I could paint I would do it with paint, but I can't paint. The transparent color overlays inherent in the moku hanga method somehow make sense to me after a long career as a commercial artist, so that's how I've chosen to express myself. I try to take the support of the beauty and elegance and history of the method without letting go of my own voice and identity.

The Washington Project - Update, Day 8

Since touring and sketching locations throughout Washington State during April 2011, artists Eva Pietzcker has returned home to Berlin and is busy carving woodblocks for a number of views.  She tells me that Soda Spring and Steamboat Rock are in process.  Things got busy in Seattle at the same time, and I've been aware that the last chapter of Eva's tour with C.G. booster, Joe Kaftan, was missing from the story, sorry Joe.  Now that I'm on vacation for a week, I finally have time to catch up on some of these things.  So here it is, Day 8 of The Washington Project in Joe's words.  More to come, no doubt.  B.C.

Day 8
We rose in Forks, WA and went straight to the nearest dinner, per Eva's request.  Over hash browns and coffee, we talked about similar childhoods, and how for both of us, creativity, the value of new experiences, and even Star Trek were all emphasized in our up bringing. Eva said she was taught that art was sacred - a belief that still completely impacts her life. She wondered if the creative life, by definition, is one of openness and exploration.

Our fist stop was First Beach in La Push. I mentioned that I was immediately taken by the scene of the village with huge sea stack islands just off shore.  'Why do you like this view?' Eva asked.  'I love places where you can see peoples' first attempts to connect with the landscape, like this village on the edge of the country, and old barns, or decrepit docks and wooden bridges in the country.'  Eva said, 'For me, there is so much evidence of humans here. I prefer what is wild, and fresh. Working with the untouched landscape, I want to relate this to these areas in us, that are maybe fundamentally good in themselves, or at least untouched.'  Eva smiled at me looking at the sea stacks and the ocean and said 'So could we go have a look at second beach, next?'

As soon as we arrived at second beach, Eva quickly moved toward a muscle encrusted boulder that lay in the path of a low stream, took a seat, and dove into a sketch. She was in front of a broad sea stack island, that was just off shore. Pacific rollers crashed around the island, and seagulls glided off to the side of the rock edges, just above the surf. This was the sunniest and brightest I had ever seen the Washington coast.

After pleasant lunch in Forks, we drove south and then east along the Hoe River toward the Hoe Rain Forrest.  About 10 miles up the road, Eva very excitedly said, 'Stop the car, stop the car! I know we are going to see rain forrest, but the river is like none I've ever seen!  With these enormous logs, bigger than I thought possible, I must have a look'. I obliged and watched her do her survey dance, until she settled on the pebbled bank of the river. She was posed in front of a tree trunk that was 150 feet long. The river basin was flat, wide and mostly made up of rounded gravel, with the sinewy streams cutting in and out between massive logs and fallen trees. A birch tree grove was beyond the river with pines behind them, leading back to snow covered mountains. It was an awesome scene. After returning from an long exploration climb on downed logs, I noticed Eva was no longer working, but was aggressively throwing rocks into the river. I waved her toward the car, and waited for her there. After a while, she approached, and said. 'I am done making art. It takes a lot out of me, and I can't give anymore'.  'Forever?' I said with a smile. 'Yes,' she responded,  'You broke me, you took me to too many places, now I'm broken.' I apologized and asked if we still might have a look at the Hoe Rain Forrest.  'If you insist.' she said with a fake grimace.
As we drove, she said. 'You know there are painters who paint 8 hours a day, but for me I have to hold all the plates in my mind, and I have to create something that is challenging and interesting, because this is only the beginning of the process, as I will cut and print for around 3 weeks for each sketch. And then it is very important that I am never repeating myself, because that is boring, so I really have to concentrate, and all that concentration can hurt, or at very least be very exhausting.'

When we arrived at the Hoe Rain Forrest, Eva perked up at the sight of the long drapes of moss hanging from the Spruce branches. We walked to the Hall of Mosses. We found ourselves standing next to a large beautiful owl, that was hiding on a lower branch. We continued into the great hall, and were surrounded by the layers of back-lit yellow moss, looking like so many golden tapestry. We were both quieted by the sight, and just slowly turned in circles, looking up, looking down taking in the illuminated richness of this wholly unique wonder forest. I didn't know their were so many shades of green in the world.
I whispered to Eva, 'If ferries exist, they definitely live here.' After a moment, I asked Eva if she was in the spirit to sketch here. She paused and said, 'Perhaps not. This is more of an etchers setting, so many lines in these trees, thousands and thousands of lines. This is magical, but it is not for my sketch pad I think.'  With that she turned back on the path toward the entrance  and said, 'Beside I am pretty sure we are on vacation now.'  So we left the forest and headed to the coast for a nice walk on the beach.