Friday, September 25, 2009


From my student days to about the year 2000, the Kodachrome slide, was the medium used to promote my paintings. I would send out packets containing a sheet of slides and a resume to prospective galleries and curators with the hope of representation or inclusion in a juried show. This process was costly, time consuming and usually fruitless. Digital photography, in-house publishing and the Internet have swept film to the sidelines. Now speed is the new nemesis, "get it to me by lunch". My upcoming show came together with mind boggling efficiency. What would have taken at least 2 months; a magazine spread, updated website and printed invitation, could be accomplished in less than 3 weeks.

After 74 years Kodak has pulled the plug on Kodachrome film. Photographers will lament the passing, (you cannot beat the color and durability of the film) painters, not so much. I have read you can get a digital camera with a "Kodachrome" exposure setting.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

The Fall Season: Part 2

The Autumn months tend to be my most productive. The light and atmosphere begins to soften, as the natural world starts its inward retreat. Perfect conditions for painting, which is to my advantage as I have a show opening in Nashville on October the 3rd. This exhibition at The Arts Company will coincide with an article about my paintings in the Nashville Arts Magazine. More on these events in another post.
Above: Spirit Of The River, 26x24 oil panel 2009, sending to Nashville for the show.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

The Fall Season

Last Spring the key phrase whispered among gallery owners and working artists was " If I can get through summer, I should be fine". From what I see, surprisingly, most made it. What we failed to realize then though was that the summer is usually slow, numbers-wise. Your budget is not based on summer stats, the Fall season is when you make your hay. The new mantra is "I need a big Fall". This recent article in the N.Y.Times illustrates the mood of gallery owners up there and mirrors what I hear locally.
Above:THE GIFT, 18x16,oil on wood,2004 (private collection)