Wednesday, May 26, 2010

New Totem Series

In Dec 2009, after a year in India, the first place I went to in NYC before I even saw any friends was the Museum of Natural History. In the basement there is a hall filled with Totem poles and masks from the Pacific North West coast Indians....This is where I went to ground...with the sacred spirits of the land I had just returned to. I've always had a strong connection to the spirit of the native peoples more than the western culture that has sprung up on their ancient land....perhaps it was those pow-wows my mom would take me to as a child which activated some inner affinity.... I've wanted to do a totem series for some time, and now that I have the opportunity to work large again (temporary studio during this nomadic journey), sketches of sadhus from the Kumbh Mela, as well as Kabbalistic concepts (subjects I'm currently exploring) are working their way into these unfolding and vibrating energy totems....

Titles:
Totem A
Totem B
Totem 10
Totem 09
(They are all gouache on eucalyptus paper)










2 New Fake Books



Sunday, May 16, 2010

I Heart Books

Wow...Since I've been In India I've read so many mind expanding books which tickled my intellect...plus they have weighed be down, and taken up a lot of room in my small baggage ...needless to say, books have played a big role on this nomadic journey, ....that is until recently when I began to feel completely overwhelmed by all the knowledge I had exposed myself to....My system crashed, and part of my recovery process was taking a fresh look at the role of the book's surface/cover...I invented a title, and gave my creativity a break by using found imagery from this trip (covers of books I'm actually schleeping around, match books I found at the Kumbh Mela, and old etching some westerner did of Indian myths a couple hundred years ago). These are all pen on Nepali rice paper... probably 8x12



Some more of this series which can be attached to a clock so they rotate



Monday, March 8, 2010

Horizontal or Vertical???

Please vote in the comment section...

I always rotate my abstract paintings as I am working on them. At the end I decide which way works best. Instead of deciding, maybe it's better to attach them to analog clock and have the painting rotate through out the day? Curious to know which you think works best of these 2 choices (I can't decide), horizontal or vertical?



(horizontal)






(vertical)

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

NEW PAINTINGS

These recent works are approx 10"x7", mixed media (mendhi, incense, and gouache on Madhubani cow dung washed paper)

These works are available for sale at this gallery: http://projects2ndfloor.blogspot.com/
















Thursday, December 31, 2009

Two Late Feet



Thoughts:

Drawn to the banks of the river of truth…observation can tell only so much…to watch the rapids, to find the pools of stillness….. one must jump in and merge with it and become it to truly know it. I want to write about feet, and history… not necessarily the history of feet, but exploring how symbolically one stands in ‘reality.’

First these terms, as I understand them:
Reality…this seamless shared perception experienced and interpreted by the sense organs and the brain, which is an ever-flowing trinity (ripening arising, fresh now, rotting passing).
History…subjective record of rotten now moments.
Feet…our rivers of action and stability/stillness.

So then, most of us are victimized by our perception of reality, and the limitations we unknowingly place on ourselves, which have been handed down quite naturally over time. Mimicking and shadowing those who have happened to come before. This is a faultless non-conspiracy view of what is. Of course its easy to suggest that there are powers that be that want to suppress natural intelligence, but in this story one imagines themselves as the victim, a dualistic role which defeats the purpose of higher intelligence whose goal is unity (awareness of self as Self and the subsequent natural merger which takes place).

There is a comfort one falls into through a life time of patterns reinforced and therefore expected, and when the pattern breaks one goes through a mini crisis, needing to mend their reality into an understandable shape (like trying to turn a Jackson Pollok into a Mondrian). But this Mondrian-esque life of knowns becomes a labyrinth of yeses and nos. Operating with a limited interface system closes one of to the dynamism of what is. Maybe it is too radical and too uncomfortable for people to completely throw out their concept or view of what life is. After all, they are happy (or are they?) to continue with their 90degree lifestyle. And maybe that’s fine. In fact, it’s perfect.

I often try to interpret my understanding of philosophical concepts as visual forms. For instance, I wrote a short story about how each one of us is like a thread woven in a giant quilt through time and space. Our actions and personalities can be imagined as a particular ‘design’ and ‘color.’ So let’s say the creator of the quilt would enjoy a portion with red roses against a black background. The few roses would be dependant on the mass of black threads that they need to define their edges and give them support to exist.

So this quilt of life, like a river treadmill, forever being created from our actions and inactions, appears underfoot out of no where, and then disappears behind us into ‘history.’ Logic would suggest that if one examines the pattern of the past, one should be able to predict the coming pattern. Lets say there is a pattern of: fire rows of red roses, one row of yellow roses, a fire truck, 40 days of rain, and 333 humming birds, then when the next row of five roses appears, one could assume the yellow rose/fire truck/rain/bird scenario would follow. But here’s where I believe we get the whole learning from history wrong: maybe where I’m standing on the river/quilt of unfolding time and space it looks like a fire truck to me, but my neighbor sees a roller-skate, and someone down the block knows for sure it’s a t-bone steak in a doggie bag. Through time these subjective interpretations of truth are passed down as history. Edited, revised, disseminated, taught, and called fact.

This collective history is some sort of conceptual framework that creates the illusion of structure. Us, them, that, there, here, etc. Of course it can be comforting if one identifies with the ‘victorious’ and ‘advanced’ heroes of history, and it can be oppressive and unsettling if one identifies with the marginalized (of course the trick is to liberate yourself through non-identification). So should history be scrapped, especially since we can’t seem to learn from it anyway (Holocaust/Rwanda)? Perhaps it’s a rash idea because it suggests we would loose so much knowledge as well, so only on a personal level should one experiment with moving beyond the trappings of history (personal and otherwise).

Since I have returned from India 1 month ago I can help but notice the love affair Americans are having with their hand held portals to the virtual WWWorld, the Jungian collective consciousness, the tower of babble, connecting us all, from home made porn to Iranian street demonstrations caught on mobile phones. What is to become of history as we conceive it? Will a clean objective narrative still be created and attempted to be passed on, or is it just too over whelming at this point? Too many voices?

Jean Cocteau once prophetically said filmmaking would only become an art form when the tools are as inexpensive as pencil and paper. Perhaps the same can be said about history. While major corporate networks subservient to corporate advertisers still have the largest broadcast scope, the web becomes the medium of the next millennium, but in the process creates a navel gazing culture, where all feel more comfortable looking into their palm portal instead of the mystery of a stranger’s eyes. What this means for culture is a question whose answer we all get to live and help form.

This brings me to the subject I really want to talk about, the phrase found in businesses all over the country “No shoes, No shirt, No service.” I noticed in my most recent art exhibition at Gallery Mary Smith & Friends that I had grouped a bunch of paintings and drawings together because they all suggested feet in some literal or abstract form. This work was created during my year in India where not only did I see a lot of bare feet, read about the foot in yogic texts, made sure I didn’t point my feet directly at anyone which is a sign of disrespect, but I also enjoyed feeling the earth under my own feet. Raymond Duncan (brother of modern dance inventor Isadora Duncan) once said something to the effect of: intelligence begins with the foot. Reflexologists can tell you that the many nerve endings on the sole correspond to internal organs, and a palm reader I met was convinced that by doing a series of exercises he showed me (which stimulated the foot’s nerves) one could grow new lines on your palm, which reflect growth in your brain as well. There are also many sculptures of feet in relief at Hindu shrines which represent the feet of god one is supposed to bow down and humble him/herself before. Feet also come up in Buddhist texts as a place to look for symbols that identify reincarnated lamas. And then there is dance, of which I am happy to surrender to and allow my feet to take over for a change. As I found a richness of foot culture in the East, I couldn’t help remember a phrase branded in my sub-consciousness: “No shoes, No shirt, No service.”

Now I don’t know the history of this concept, but at first glance is seems to be based on two ideas: cleanliness and economic elitism. What it creates in its wake is a sort of shame or judgment about being shoe-less. It’s not hard to see how obsessed shoe/boot/sneaker as accessory our western culture has become. The shoe is no longer just for function, now it’s almost exclusively about form. It’s become a symbol of individuality and economic success. No judgment, but lets take a broad look at some of the results of an anti bare foot culture. My first impulse is to talk about litter, and imagine that if we were all bare footed people would be more conscious and aware about disposing of garbage (broken bottles for instance), but just having returned from India, despite the bare feet, it would seem people do not consider this when they choose to litter, as many glass shards and other dangerous garbage could unfortunately be found just about everywhere. But, as a barefooted walker I was forced to become more aware of each step I took, so I didn’t mindlessly walk into glass or cow patties. This slowing down is a meditative technique as well, which brings your awareness out of the whirlpools of the past and the hot tubs of the future. So, litter aside, lets look at our relation to nature here in America. Could this sign, which is found at most gas station convenience shops and fast food restaurants, have created an environment where grass and woods have been replaced by concrete and pavement?

Ever unfolding nature will eventually reclaim the lost land, Which can already be observed as weeds break out of deserted strip mall parking lots like a 5’o-clock shadow. But, can we reclaim our personal nature? I feel the foot is a good place to start. In this constant race from experience to experience, the image that manifested itself to me which demonstrate the alternative, was that of a young sadhu (renunciate/ascetic) in Omkareshwar doing morning yoga standing for long periods balancing on one foot. Yes, the world and experiences will be eternally spinning from unripe to rotten, but if we can find our inner flamingo, and plant ourselves to the earth and breathe then we begin the shift back to our inner nature that has been buried beneath the distractions of this modern world. As our physical foot becomes rooted and more sensitive, the mind falls into place, and we can root our mind in the subtle fields of ‘what is’. Here is where the desired union can begin to first hold hands and go to the movies together. As the practice develops one begins to see the joy in surrender, and how energy had formerly been exerted in chasing fantasies. With nothing to achieve, or desire for success, there is an overwhelming feeling of contentment as you have found your way back to your natural path. Now if this path is to find a cure for cancer, invent the light bulb, or compose music then the energy put into these tasks is coming from the pure source of universal wisdom. Good luck!

Love,
Oliver Halsman Rosenberg
Dec 30, 2009



Saturday, December 19, 2009

a drop in the void

My old blog www.daytg.blogspot.com was a beautiful doccumentation of: my attempted journey to India in 2006, the 2 years in NYC before I actually got there, as well as pix from my year long travels there in 2009. Now, as 2010 approaches I feel a shift from doing strictly doccumentary blog work, and would rather just explore posting images of my art and thoughts that I seem to think I need to share...

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Introduction

Like a family tree, where ancestors shed light on present incarnations, I will use this blog format as a linear system to explore the development of my art. Often times I am asked what kind of art I make. This perhaps is the most dificult question for artists to answer, and in my case it is espically dificult because most of my work stems from philosophical concepts, and takes on many forms. The more work I produce, the more I see patterns developing in a spiral format. I may explore a theme for several months, move onto something else, and pick it up again a year later -this time from an evolved point of view or implementing new techniques/process/materials. I will begin ten years ago (1997) after I graduated Skidmore college as an art major, art history minor, and work my way to the present, and then use the blog to archive new projects.