So every other year (or maybe every year -- not sure) the Fleisher Art Memorial has a fundraising event they call "Dear Fleisher." Artists contribute works that measure just 4 by 6 inches -- postcard size. Get it? "Dear Fleisher, here's my art. Wish you were here." That kind of thing.
The art -- hundreds of pieces -- is hung with no attribution. Visitors to the exhibit can buy any piece for $50, and you don't know whose art you're getting (unless you're really a collector/follower of someone's work, and you can recognize the piece or the artist's style). It's first-come, first-served, so if you see a piece you want, you gotta make tracks over to one of the white-gloved assistants and blurt out "I want number 72!" And the assistant marches over to #72 and puts a little red dot on it. Sold. It's yours. Problem is, somebody ELSE might have found his or her OWN white-gloved assistant and ALSO made the request for #72, so in that case it's a question of how far away each assistant is from the work in question and how fast they can wiggle through the crowd.
Because, hooboy, it IS crowded. I've gone to the event probably six times, and each time I've gone at least two hours early to wait in a long (though generally cheerful and friendly) line, so as to be one of the first to be let in to the show. People who arrive at exactly the time the show opens either have to wait for the crowd to dwindle even before they can get it OR once they get in, most of the good stuff is already spoken for.
Once you're finished buying up as many postcard-sized masterpieces as you can afford, you check out. An assistant goes to collect your piece(s) and puts a color scan up on the wall in its/their places, so the show continues to look "whole." And you get to see who made the art! (Signature is on the back.) Then you get the piece tucked into a tidy little envelope which includes, usually, some bio material and sundry promo stuff about the artist. Very cool. I have, I think, five pieces of other people's work -- two oils, one watercolor, one batik and one graphite. A little collection of masterpieces for only $250 -- two of which are original David Wiesners, oh my. So, woohoo for me, Sophisticated Art Collector, tra la.
So this is the second time I created a piece to donate. I thought I'd share. I like castles and I love painting stonework and things that look like stone carvings, so...it was to be a sort of reversed castle concept. (Oh, it's watercolor, archival ink, and colored pencil on 140-lb cold press watercolor paper.)
I think it's a much better and more interesting piece than the one I just did, but oh well, sometimes you have an idea that doesn't really work. If it makes 50 bucks for Fleisher, then it will end up having been a good thing. Plus I (obviously) have a scan of it, so I can use it for something else (or just pretend it never happened...)
The art -- hundreds of pieces -- is hung with no attribution. Visitors to the exhibit can buy any piece for $50, and you don't know whose art you're getting (unless you're really a collector/follower of someone's work, and you can recognize the piece or the artist's style). It's first-come, first-served, so if you see a piece you want, you gotta make tracks over to one of the white-gloved assistants and blurt out "I want number 72!" And the assistant marches over to #72 and puts a little red dot on it. Sold. It's yours. Problem is, somebody ELSE might have found his or her OWN white-gloved assistant and ALSO made the request for #72, so in that case it's a question of how far away each assistant is from the work in question and how fast they can wiggle through the crowd.
Because, hooboy, it IS crowded. I've gone to the event probably six times, and each time I've gone at least two hours early to wait in a long (though generally cheerful and friendly) line, so as to be one of the first to be let in to the show. People who arrive at exactly the time the show opens either have to wait for the crowd to dwindle even before they can get it OR once they get in, most of the good stuff is already spoken for.
Once you're finished buying up as many postcard-sized masterpieces as you can afford, you check out. An assistant goes to collect your piece(s) and puts a color scan up on the wall in its/their places, so the show continues to look "whole." And you get to see who made the art! (Signature is on the back.) Then you get the piece tucked into a tidy little envelope which includes, usually, some bio material and sundry promo stuff about the artist. Very cool. I have, I think, five pieces of other people's work -- two oils, one watercolor, one batik and one graphite. A little collection of masterpieces for only $250 -- two of which are original David Wiesners, oh my. So, woohoo for me, Sophisticated Art Collector, tra la.
So this is the second time I created a piece to donate. I thought I'd share. I like castles and I love painting stonework and things that look like stone carvings, so...it was to be a sort of reversed castle concept. (Oh, it's watercolor, archival ink, and colored pencil on 140-lb cold press watercolor paper.)
First the color study.
Here's the color lightly roughed in.
Here is is with some of the finishing details in the stone starting to happen.
And here's the finished piece, cut away from the masonite on which it was stretched.
This is the first piece I did, back in (I think) 2006? 2008? Can't remember.
1 comment:
I think the colored pencil is to blame. Short cut for me. Shoulda slowed down and used watercolor for all the shading. But also, the idea is just...not all that enthralling.
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