Spots Before My Eyes: An Open Ended Encounter with Damien Hirst

A visitor to Hypergraphia at the Flatiron observed, "there is the infinite variety of things, then there is an infinite variation of one thing. Your installation is the latter". I like that a lot! Infinite is out of my reach, but it is true that each time I draw or paint on a paper coffee cup - always the one shape and surface texture - a new image emerges.

 Cup of the Day #99 by Gwyneth Leech

Homage to Damien Dot Cup - state 1

Colored India ink on upcycled white paper cup

This came back to me shortly after I entered Gagosian Gallery on 24th Street to look at the Damien Hirst Spotravaganza on view. At first it was just acres of spots, but as I wandered the huge galleries I noted with appreciation that no two canvases are alike. He too is engaged in the infinite variation of one thing, in this case grids of multicolored spots on pristine white canvas. Principally the colors and sizes of the spots vary, as do the sizes and shapes of the canvases, but within each group of shapes and sizes are further variations. I especially appreciated the different meta-patterns emerging from whites spaces between spots in a set of circular canvases in the rear gallery. 

The edges of paintings caught my eye also. Where the spots are huge and sit right at the edges, the canvases seem to bulge and contract. In another room a very long canvas contained the spots on three sides, but cut through all of them on the vertical - spots by the yard!

 Cup of the Day #99 by Gwyneth Leech

Homage to Damien Dot Cup - state 2

Colored India ink on upcycled white paper cup

All of this was interesting enough to take me to the second Gagosian gallery on 21st street. When I walked in the door and saw the same display of large and small canvases, with the same tonal effects of highly pigmented spots on pristine white canvases I was suddenly filled with a feeling of exhaustion. But plunging in I enjoyed the extremes of scale - in some paintings the spots so tiny that I could barely make them out hanging next to one the length of a football field. I also made the fun discovery that when you stand close to the wall the spots turn into rows. 

Overall I have to say, I like the spot paintings to the extent that they remind me of those strips of candy dots on white paper that we used to buy as kids! Funny then that some of the spot studies shown in an accompanying book are actually arrays of venoms. Some candy strip that!

  Cup of the Day #99 by Gwyneth Leech

Homage to Damien Dot Cup - state 3

Colored India ink on upcycled white paper cup

At this point, I would love to show you some photos of the spot painting shows, but the security guards said no cameras. I was tempted to photograph the Hirst gift shop through the window on 24th street, where a pile of Hirst coffee mugs was plainly to be seen on a plinth (a colored dot in the bottom of each), but respecting his intellectual property, I returned to the Flatiron window and drew a Damien Hirst homage spot cup and hung it up.

The color swatches on the white background looked all wrong hanging there. So I took it down again and considered. Would I leave all that negative space? Let Damien have it; I would follow the call of the fractal! Before long, a positive lace of smaller and smaller dots encased the cup, knitting it up until it found its proper place amongst the Hypergraphia cup drawings.  

 Cup of the Day #99 by Gwyneth Leech

Homage to Damien Dot Cup - finished state

Colored India ink on upcycled white paper cup

This is what I learned form the experience - painting free hand circles of color is hard! If my project of infinite variation involved that kind of pristine execution I would hire a stable of workers too. As it is, my approach has a lot to do with impulse, error and chance - of which there is an infinite amount in the world. It really is an open-ended proposition.

"And for that matter", said my husband, "so is a cup."

Good photos of Damien's spots at Gagosian can be seen on Blake Gopnik's Daily Pic.

And here is a posting of 10 spot reviews over on GalleristNY.

Sailing Past the Median in the Flatiron Prow

Cups of the Day #94

Fire Escapes by Gwyneth Leech

Colored India Ink on white, upcycled coffee cups.

I am surprised that it has passed already - the halfway point on my journey in Sprint's Prow Artspace at the Flatiron Building! Favorable winds of goodwill have buoyed us along since September 20th, and the exhibit has been extended until February 18th, 2012. 

I must admit, my first day drawing inside a sweltering triangle of glass seemed endless. I paced and peered out the windows in all directions. How was I going to manage this? But a routine took shape and my temporary studio has become an enjoyable and productive place to be five days a week. When I am not there, I think of drawings I would like to do, gestures and patterns to explore.

 

The artist at work

Photo by Trish Mayo

View from Fifth Avenue, December 2011

I top up the cup stacks daily with my own beverages from the many coffee bars and delis nearby. In addition, friends have donated stacks of their own used cups, each one with name and date on the bottom, and the place they drank the coffee, expanding the record of social moments.  I love to take lucky dip and see what color or text comes up from a coffee bar in deepest Brooklyn or Queens that I haven't yet had the good fortune to visit!

Rainy Day window

November 2011

Orchids from Eve and orchid cup

Colored India ink on white paper coffee cup

October 2011

Looking back over the first half of the journey, there are so many highlights: cups reflected in umbrellas during torrential rains, twins in brilliantly patterned rain coats smiling in at me, my hot dog cart so hard to draw, the tricky fire escapes on the buildings across 5th Avenue. Then there was the Bicycle Barber who came to call and gave me and the exhibit's curator, Cheryl McGinnis haircuts, the freakish blizzard that engulfed the Prow before the end of October, and Eve Suter who brightened a dark afternoon with a bouquet of coffee colored orchids in a tall white cup.  Not to mention the many great conversations with old friends, and new ones from around the world.

Hot Dog Cart Cup

White-out pen and colored ink on

Maroon printed paper cup

September 2011

Summer styles have given way to winter coats. I spy Santa hats, Christmas trees and giant bags of shopping these days. The trees in Madison Square Park changed to gold and are now a tracery of black branches against the pale stone buildings beyond. The sweltering heat of late summer sun turned to chill breezes inside the Prow. For awhile I sat bundled in coat and sweaters. Finally, the heat kicked on in the ancient radiators, sending the cups spinning in waves of convection.

Freak blizzard at the Prow

October 2011

Nights come early now and more and more photos are posted online, documenting the windows in all weathers and times of day.

Fortified by stacks of coffee cups, ample art pens from Faber Castell, the never ending flow of visual stimuli on the streets outside and the promise of many interesting social moments yet to come, I am looking forward to the rest of the crossing. February 18th will be here before we know it!

Night Photographers, November 2011

to view a Flickr album of other people's photos

of Hypergraphia at the Flatiron click here.

Who Has Time to Stop and Look at Art?

I start each day in my window studio by sitting, drinking a hot drink and watching life flow like a river on the other side of the plate glass. I know if I sit here looking out or lift my camera, people won't stop. Still, I study them. Who will even turn their head? I perceive patterns and keep a lookout from the corner of my eye once I start to draw.

 Cup of the day #80, by Gwyneth Leech

India in on upcycled white paper coffee cup

Drawn in the window studio at 215 West 38th Street

By the end of my drawing session today I have it nailed. First there is my posse - the street sweepers, security guards, postal workers and office workers who I see every day. They stop to see what is new, or wave to me as they go by. Then there are delivery and messenger folk, walking purposefully.  Pushing a cart, they look ahead for obstructions, no time for me,  but if they carry envelopes they turn and engage. Cigarette smokers are furtive and preoccupied, seeking doorways to smoke in. They jump if the haven't seen see me at first and move quickly away from the window.

 Cup of the day #80, view #2, by Gwyneth Leech

India in on upcycled white paper coffee cup

Drawn in the window studio at 215 West 38th Street

Tourists pulling wheeled luggage are intent and anxious, walking quickly up the street. Later, strolling with heads up, they are happy and excited to see the window, stopping for group photos, sometimes with their backs to me. Successful shoppers carrying their purchases stop and study the window, as do pairs or small groups walking and conversing. They exclaim to each other and to me, interact and linger. Young people, students I would guess, usually walk with their heads up looking at the city. They invariably take time to examine the cup drawings.

View of the Hypergraphia window, March 23, 2011

The happiest viewers are office workers carrying their lunches. They have their food, they are looking forward to eating it, but they are not in a big rush to get back to their desks. They stroll by daily and we wave.

But the strangest of all are the cellphone zombies - they walk as if possessed, moving their mouths, completely unaware of their surroundings. A man stood with his back to the window today talking on his cellphone for a good 10 minutes before finally wandering off. He never noticed I was there.

 View from the Hypergraphia window, March 29, 2011

Truly, the best thing about the window studio is that I am disconnected. My phone is off, I have no laptop or I-Pad. I sit, think, look and draw. I try to stay like that as I walk through the streets of the city, eyes and ears open, finding stories everywhere. Once while talking on my cellphone, I walked the length of Central Park without noticing or remembering anything I saw.  I too was a cellphone zombie!
Now I know what it looks like.

View of the Hypergraphia window, March 23, 2011

Today I draw the people walking by, a frieze around my cup, some with heads turned looking in at me. Before I leave I put the cups in the window and go outside to consider the effect.
Now they are looking out at me as I look in. A pleasantly circular touch.

Cups in progress in the window studio

India ink on white cups, March 29, 2011 

The exhibition has been extended until April 8th and I will continue to draw in the window Monday - Friday 11:30 AM - 1:00 PM through Wednesday, April 6th.

Bobbing on the Gyre: Afloat in Plastic Cup Lids

 Cup of the Day #74

"Plastics all at Sea" by Gwyneth Leech

India ink and encaustic on 

upcycled white paper coffee cup

"What's with the cup lids? Explain that to me." His tone was not reassuring.

"They are because the installation is about drinking drinks on the go," I explained. "The people outside the window are carrying their coffee breaks, drinking with the lids on. Imagine you are in Times Square. Erase all the people and you would see something like this - the cups all tipped up every which way.

 Passerby Day #3

"Also, the cup lid acts as a frame, setting off the drawing."

He still looked unconvinced. "I just see a lump of white plastic."

"Look closer. Every lid is different: flat top, sip top, flip top tabs, resealable tabs, sliding tabs."I picked up a Solo Traveler Deluxe lid with a high profile that has an intricate sliding mechanism to close off the sip opening while walking. "This is a feat of engineering. If mankind can do this, we can do anything!"

 View form the window Day #4

"And here is something else to consider. My cup drawings are treated with encaustic - immersed in molten beeswax and Damar resin, then fused with a heat gun. It's an ancient process of preservation, and encaustic paintings have survived intact from Roman Times - that's several thousand years. But the plastic lid that tops your cup drawing  -  talk about archival! It's non-biodegradable and will be in your family for a hundred thousand years or so, if not a million."

"OK," he said. "you've convinced me."

Drawing in the window Day #4

Upcycled, Curated by Barbara Lubliner, and the Cup Lid Dilemma

Cup of the Day #62

Three Cups with Lids by Gwyneth Leech

White-out pen, sumi ink and India ink on printed paper cups

I just came back from another look at "Upcycled" a sculpture exhibition curated by Barbara Lubliner, at the Educational Alliance, 197 East Broadway, on through thursday January 20th. Back in December, I wrote about the opening which was packed, and I wanted a closer look. The ground floor Rubenstien gallery is open 9am -9pm so if you are reading this before or on the 20th, there is still time to enjoy a very attractive and thought-provoking exhibition. Attractive because the material used by the artists is brightly-colored, toy-like and expertly manipulated. Thought-provoking because that material is scavenged post-consumer plastic trash, or plastic pollution as the current awareness-raising movement wants us to understand it.

Being an Upcyler myself, I respond positively to the aestheics of the artwork by Olivia Kaufman-Rovira, Bernard Klevickas, Barbara Lubliner Shari Mendelson, Janet Nolan, Ilene Sunshine, and Tyrome Tripoli.  At the same time, consider that even if every artist in the United States decided to turn our post-consumer waste into art, we would probably not make a dent in the avalanche of this stuff being thrown away on a daily basis. Rather we should look for a future when the waste reduction movement has rendered these plastics rare and precious, deserving of their jewel-like colors.

Untitled

by Bernard Klevickas

Plastic and rivets

In the meantime, I especially admired the construction of Bernard Klevickas' small wall artworks, of Barbara Lubliner's plastic bottle geometries and of Janet Nolan's Cancan installation. I know what they had to contend with. Back in the 1980s, while living in Scotland, I had a sea-borne plastic-detritus period (as opposed to my current paper cup period where the only plastic I tussle with is in the lids). I took a truck out to a small town on the West coast one day and within a few hours had filled it full with a huge quantity of the simlarly colorful yet repulsive plastic material. In my case, it had all been washed up by the waves: fishing nets, boxes, floats, water bottles, tool parts, domestic objects and broken pieces of unidentifiable things.

Icosahedron

by Barbara Lubliner

Plastic bottles 36 x 26 x 26 inches

Back in the studio, I discovered that these plastics were beastly to work with. Nothing would stick to the surfaces and no glue would hold them together. Eventually, I used a hot glue gun, essentially melting pieces together, until I learned that melting plastic creates toxic fumes. No, I will not endanger my health for the sake of an artworkl! So, in the end I bound, piled and tangled all this stuff together into frenzied installations studded with video monitors that I exhibited until I could bear the sight and smell of the plastic no longer. Terrifying to think how much more plastic there is in the ecosphere now than there was those twenty-some years ago!

Back to the present, the neat riveting in Bernard's work, the wire-reinforced plastic straw connectors of Janet's wall piece, and the hinges cut from plastic bottle bottoms holding Barbara's shapes together are all ingenious, glue-free and completely satisfying solutions.

Leaving at 4 o'clock I stopped by Café Petisco across the street from the Alliance for a cuppa. There, I thoroughly enjoyed tea in a contraption which, with care, can be safely reused for thousands of years: an earthernware mug. And if you sit in, no plastic lid is required.

Cancan

by Janet Nolan

Plastic bottle caps, lids and straws

12 x 32 feet

On Hoarding and Upcycling Coffee Cups

I have a hoard. The coffee cups, hundreds of them, with and without drawings, are spilling all over my studio. I also stack them behind a folding screen at home and they topple out. Coffee lids and sleeves find their way everywhere.

 Cups of the Day #54

Marsh Lines cup drawings by Gwyneth Leech, 2010

Colored ink and oil paint on white and green paper coffee cups

After almost a year of saving every cup I buy, I can't throw them away. I was carrying one in my hand on 9th Avenue the other day. It was a brownish one from a deli, with an ugly cream-colored pattern of coffee cups and on it. I hate to get that cup. The color does not please me and it is hard to transform into anything interesting. I threw it in a trash can and walked away. A few steps later, I turned. It sat on top of the pile, looking forlorn and abandoned. I went back and retrieved it. According to Randy Frost and Gail Steketee, authors of the book Compulsive Hoarding and the Meaning of Stuff, once I start anthropomorphizing my trash I may be in trouble.

On the upside, they suggest that hoarders may “inherit an intense perceptual sensitivity to visual details,” and speculate about “a special form of creativity and an appreciation for the aesthetics of everyday things.” Well that sure does describe me. Perhaps that is why I was so able to correctly identify art from trash in a recent competition on Joanne Mattera's art blog.

Trash is finding its way into lots of art these days. My artist friend Barbara Lubliner calls it Upcycling and she has just curated a highly entertaining and colorful exhibition by that name at the Educational  Alliance in New York City. I went to the opening with my younger daughter who was overwhelmed with the desire to play with all the sculptures. I will go see Upcycled again on my own before it closes on January 20th and have been enjoying the digital catalogue.

 Shari Mendelson, Untitled, 

5 vessels made from plastic post consumer waste. 

Courtesy of Educational Alliance/ Ernest Rubenstein Gallery
Photo by  Robert Wright.

An element that is attractive to me, and to the artists in Upcycled is the easy-to-come-by components. Large sculptures and installations can be built to unimaginable sizes from an  endless supply of 
post-consumer waste. I look forward to exhibiting my own hoard in March of 2011 in the Garment District. And just to keep me on task, an artist friend sent me this image today of the Mona Lisa, made from over 3,000 cups filled with coffee and varying amounts of milk. Now that's a lot of throw-away Joe!

3,604 cups of coffee which were made into a giant Mona Lisa 
painting in Sydney, Australia for a coffee festival. The 3,604 cups of coffee were each 
filled with different amounts of milk to create the different tones and shades.