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Fear heightens appreciation of abstract art.

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 18:46:40 GMT

[ SYMPATHY by Linnea Heide ]

Are you puzzled by Picasso? Perplexed by Pollock? Do you feel you’re missing out on something profound when friends discuss their intense reaction to abstract art?

You could do some research to better understand what you’re looking at. Or you could turn off the lights and watch a DVD of Psycho.

A newly published study finds people are more likely to be moved and intrigued by abstract paintings if they have just experienced a good scare. This suggests the allure of art may be “a byproduct of one’s tendency to be alarmed by such environmental features as novelty, ambiguity, and the fantastic,” argues lead author Kendall Eskine, a research psychologist at Loyola University New Orleans.

“Artists may be tapping into this natural sense when their work takes people’s breath away,” he and his colleagues write in the journal Emotion.

Their study was inspired by 18th-century philosopher Edmund Burke, who argued there is a strong link between fear and our experience of the sublime. To test this thesis, the researchers conducted an experiment featuring 85 Brooklyn College students.

Participants were randomly assigned to one of five conditions: fear (which was evoked by viewing a brief frightening video); happiness (evoked by a watching a brief pleasing video); high physical arousal (they performed 30 jumping jacks); low physical arousal (15 jumping jacks); or a control group.

[ CRYSTALLiZATiON by Linnea Heide ]

All then viewed images of four paintings, described as “simple geometric abstract pieces from the artist El Lissitsky.” During the 30 seconds each painting was visible on their computer screen, participants rated, on a scale of 1 to 5, whether their reaction to it matched a series of descriptive words, including “inspiring,” “stimulating,” and “imposing.”

“These dimensions were chosen because they convey components of sublime experiences, as conceptualized by Burke,” the researchers write. Each person’s ratings of the four paintings were combined into a single “sublime score.”

“Fear was the only factor found to significantly increase sublime feelings,” the researchers report. Having just been jolted by that frightening film clip “resulted in significantly higher sublime scores than all other conditions, which did not differ significantly from each other.”

This makes sense from an evolutionary perspective, according to Eskine and his colleagues, Natalie Kacinik and Jesse Prinz.

[ SEVEN by Linnea Heide ]

“At its core, fear is an emotional mechanism that increases survival chances by motivating fight, flight, or freezing responses to threatening situations,” they write. “Fear seizes one’s attention, halts current plans, and increases vigilance.”

As they point out, this dynamic is echoed in Burke’s description of the experience of the sublime, which the philosopher called “that state of the soul in which all its motions are suspended.”

“The capacity of a work of art to grab our interest and attention, to remove us from daily life, may stem from its ability to trigger our evolved mechanisms for coping with danger,” the researchers conclude.

While these results support this thesis, it’s important to acknowledge that our reaction to art depends upon a combination of factors. As the researchers note, specific cultural cues and personal predilections play a role in whether we find a work breathtaking or boring.

But this study suggests there’s also something more basic going on when a work of art really grabs us. The sight of a menacing figure in a dark alley can give us goose bumps; under the right circumstances, so can a poem or a painting.

Perhaps the best way to approach a Rothko is with sweaty palms.

Written by Tom Jacobs for Pacific Standard Magazine

follow your heart.

Tue, 15 Jan 2013 17:29:23 GMT

Twenty plus years ago, I was told by my parents to go into a field that would first and foremost pay the bills. Twenty plus years later, I've given up a life of 'keeping up with the Jones' and the material items that accompany that lifestyle to become what I should have in the first place, an artist. I have never been happier and more fulfilled and feel so grateful that I'm finally following my heart.

This video gave me chills. The message behind it is of crucial importance to society today.

Time. Space. Resolutions.

Fri, 28 Dec 2012 17:48:12 GMT

This blogpost is long overdue. I've been working everyday since around September-ish, anywhere between 1-14 hours a day.
I forced myself to take some time off to mess around over the holidays and this is just one of the things I did. A one-day, 18 hours to be exact, roundtrip trainride from the Southern coastline of Virginia to Washington D.C., with 8 members of my family on approximately 3 hours of sleep.

So, I think Penn Station in D.C. is within a short mile of The National Gallery of Art, and I'm not referring to the the West Side. It's all about the East Side, baby. The Contemporary Art. In my humble opinion, the east side and the west side are two completely different animals.

Designed in 1968 by one of my (many) idols, I.M. Pei, the East Side embodies all that is modern... and sexy (below.)

(above) a Hipstamatic (BettieXL Inas 1969) shot from a very sleep-deprived artist (me) reclined in her train seat of the setting sun somewhere in Quantico, VA.... I think.

(below) CAPRiCORN bronze sculpture by Max Ernst. Model from 1948, cast in 1975. And me. "When a man’s psychological degradation and dehumanization into machoistic condition transforms him into a bull-king, an equivalent transformation for a woman will be to become something like a mermaid with a sharp hairpin in the image of a fish (extreme femininity needs a thorn for self-defense)." This photo was taken by my niece in the museum foyer.

The National Galley of Art (East Side) houses works from many of my idols, the mothers and fathers of contemporary art including Georgia O'Keefe, Mark Rothko, Alexander Calder, Pablo Picasso and my all-time favorite Andy Goldsworthy, a quirky, environmental artist I can best describe as a mad-scientist with an innocent, childlike awe of the mechanical mysteries of the universe... much like yours truly.

It's been almost 20 years since I last visited this national treasure and am so happy I've stumbled on the opportunity to finally return. I forgot how large and significant the permanent collection was, and in my humble opinion rivals, if not surpasses MOMA ( I know, gasp!) So, if you haven't been yet, Go!

ROOF by Andy Goldsworthy

PHOTOS left to right: (1) Me next to Andy Goldsworthy's site-specific sculptural installation entitled ROOF. The sign says do not touch but I just had to go there. (2) Alexander Calder's ginormous mobile in the lobby (3) ROOF (4) Josephine Baker kinetic mobile by Calder. The shadows his mobiles create are almost as fabulous as the works themselves.

the artist and the edge of collapse

Thu, 01 Nov 2012 18:18:34 GMT

'When I make a work (of art) I often take it to the very edge of it's collapse... and there's a beautiful balance.' Andy Goldsworthy

Do you ever feel this way? Not only if you're an artist or creator, but life, in general? There's something strangely exhilarating about taking something to the very edge of it's precipice. Pushing boundaries, grace under pressure, risk taking.

Why buy original paintings?

Thu, 11 Oct 2012 16:15:14 GMT

We live in an age in which we are saturated with images. They stare at us from billboards and the pages of magazines, they flit across our television and computer screens, they adorn our groceries, our clothes and accessories. Whilst many of these images are purely commercial, the ubiquitous image has not left the art world untouched. Andy Warhol declared the death of art and stood for the democratization of painting – advertisements can be high art, art can be advertisement. The widespread nature of images has only increased the demand for art in peoples’ homes. Cheap full color reproductions and posters of paintings can be found from student dorm rooms to hotel restrooms.

In the decades after the explosion of mass-produced images, many artists moved away from traditional formats and embraced a broader and more all-inclusive package of subjects and mediums. Art lovers followed suit, buying ever more extravagant pieces that moved further from the traditions of yesteryear, constantly searching for the newest sensation. Where then does this leave painting?

Contrary to the popular view of contemporary art, many of the newest and brightest young artists on the scene have fully embraced painting, reviving it and transforming their canvases into extraordinary works of skill and talent. This renaissance of painting can be seen in galleries worldwide. However, when one can buy a very pleasing color print for five dollars, why should one buy a piece of original art?

A painting is unique – you are the owner of a work, the only one of its kind. So much more substantial than a print, you have a piece of heritage. When buying paintings, you must only choose that which you truly love and can imagine yourself living with. Paintings come at a price, but a high price is no guarantee that your painting is a good investment. As with all things, fashions and tastes change. Paintings that were once immensely popular can fall out of favour rapidly, whereas unknown artists can shoot into the spotlight overnight. A painting you love can be treasured by you and your family for generations to come, irrespective of monetary value.

The qualities that an original painting possesses cannot be replicated even by the most advanced print technique. Talking to owners of original paintings, they often say that the real painting is so much more vivid, more alive than any reproductions they have seen, but often they cannot put their finger on why exactly this should be. Perhaps the ephemeral superiority lies in the details that come together to make the whole: The look of the paint - a soft translucent sheen or the crystallized pigments that change subtly as you move through the room; brushstrokes, the textures of the paint, the surface created by movements of brush, palette knife and sponge; The three-dimensional quality of a painting on canvas or board, which gives it a tremendous sense of presence. When displayed, an original painting will transform a room, altering the space around it. A painting is so much more than just an image. It is the unique mark of an artist, a document of their creativity and energy.

In a world full of reproductions, watered-down visions and genuine fakes, an original painting stands as a capsule of authenticity – a direct link to humanity and the spark of creativity of another human being. Paintings are personal in an impersonal world, a token of love and passion that reconnects us to ourselves.

WRITTEN BY:

Tilla Crowne for ARTmine

The best artists are often rejected.

Fri, 17 Aug 2012 17:25:38 GMT

To the left, a rejection letter from The Museum of Modern Art turning down a piece of Andy Warhol's art.

It happens. Jurors, curators, critics are far from the bottom line and often make mistakes. All emerging artists will get rejected at some point. I just received a rejection email just last week as well as a, quite frankly, vile comment from a gallery owner in SOHO/NYC (who shall remain nameless) earlier this month.

Other famous art 'rejects' include Rothko, Monet, Vemeer, El Greco, Cezanne, Seurat, Toulouse-Lautrec, Manet, Gauguin, Sisley, and the list goes on. We live in a fear-based society where often the most innovative, experimental and unique ideas are rejected simply because they are out of the ordinary and simply cannot be comprehended or appreciated by all.

Rejection is part of being an artist. Develop a thick skin and healthy sense of humor and you'll be just fine! Art & Art Deadlines pokes fun at rejection letters by hosting a 'We regret to inform you...' call for rejection letter entries.

Here's a great article about 10 famous artists who were often rejected. Andy Warhol said it best, 'You have to do stuff that average people don't understand because those are the only good things.'

I have a square fetish.

Thu, 26 Jul 2012 14:17:35 GMT

Ok, I admit it. I love squares.
At some point, one may ask, where this obsession comes from. It isn't only my preference for the form itself, but what it means.

Most abstract art is purely psychological and Aristotle claimed that 'the soul never
thinks without an image.'

[ left: 'windows' 2010 ]

Signs of Life, a book by Angeles Arrien, is
a study of the five most universal shapes and how they effect us on a subconscious level. Arrien applies her background as a cultural anthropologist to determine the connection between one's preference for these five basic shapes and the messages they convey from the innermost psyche.

[ right: 'it's complicated' 2011 ]

[ left: 'relic' 2010 ]

So, if given the choice of a circle, square, spiral, equidistant cross, or triangle, I will prefer and/or feature the square the majority of the time in my art. Squares make me tick.

According to Arrien, the square represents a state of being stable, solid and secure. In a innermost desire for consistency, accountability and completion, drawing a square mirrors the process of constructing a foundation.

What makes you tick? Are you drawn to spirals? Dig circles? Adore triangles? Click [ here ] to discover more about yourself.

water and watercolors.

Mon, 25 Jun 2012 14:45:14 GMT

25 gorgeous abstract watercolor paintings were
born last week while I was preparing for Chic's Beach
art show, an annual art show situated under a beautiful grove of live oak trees near the Chesapeake Bay.

Alas, the night before the show, not one but two bands of torrential thunderstorms
and downpours flooded my garage and temporarily disabling my outdoor show tent, chairs, table and other accoutrements. Needless to say, I was unable to set up for the show.

The outdoor show circuit can be such
a gamble these days, with the weather,
the economy, and more of them turning into lowbrow craft shows and bringing
in crowds that actually looks confused, dismayed even, at the sight of fine art.

This is why I praise the world wide web and one of my online galleries etsy for bringing my art to a broader audience.

Check out my new creations that didn't fall victim to the storm here.

'Buying art is the same thing as falling in love.' Nohra Haime

A Violinist in the Metro

Mon, 18 Jun 2012 19:38:41 GMT

A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousand of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule. A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk.

A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats average $100.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of an social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?

One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

artist interview

Mon, 11 Jun 2012 16:14:28 GMT

I am thrilled to be featured AltDaily, a local arts+culture publication. To read the entire interview, click here.