In anticipation of a welcome thaw in the current sub zero temperatures, and with more than with a bit of trepidation, I am preparing to hold an open studio this Sunday Dec 18th, from 12 noon to 3pm.

There'll be mince pies, mulled wine, with an alcohol free version too. My magnificent new studio will be open to ramble through. There will be a chance to look at some paintings including some in progress... And if you'd like to get your own hands dirty, you might even try a bit of painting yourself (please bring an old shirt or apron and I'll offer you gloves).

Obviously, I am making this up as I go along. . . . If you've been before, you will know what to expect and if you have not been before, but need to know more, you can sign up for my newsletter, as the open studio event is for the elite members of this group.

If the expected thaw doesn't happen. I guess I'll have to cancel. I have left it as long as possible to decide and I know that a thaw is expected but right now my driveway is an ice rink. 

So here's hoping for thaw best.

An End to Chaos?

 

You might be glad to know there is an end to the chaos?  Peace has broken out in my studio as the painting stops. All is calm and tranquil as I busy myself with the keyboard of my computer creating a very short video about the origin of my ideas for the current show . . .click on the link to see all 3 minutes (that only took me three days)

Madly tap my mouse and type on my keyboard with massive expectations with what can be achieved in the next 12 hours,

 As I continue to madly tap my mouse and type on my keyboard with massive expectations with what can be achieved in the next 12 hours, 

I am secure in the knowledge that it is all ok, even if the world is turned upside down . . You'd never know the world is in turmoil if you make it to Tinahely tomorrow. In the Courthouse, all will be calm. There will be little in the way of speech making, and hopefully some time for a bit of real conversation. If you've not been to an art exhibition opening before, don't be intimidated. It's best described as a relaxed party in the afternoon.

You can ask questions like, "Why don't you paint The Sea/Boats/ Bogs /Rare Fen Habitats anymore?"

And if you either like (or don't like what you see) and are afraid of how to respond if asked, take my advice . . it's nearly always possible to comment that "It's got lots of energy". 

I've used this phrase myself, loads of times, to significant effect in the very same situation. (Thanks, John McGahern)

I suspect that some of you might be curious to know what happened to the painting I attempted to repair with the iron and only made it worse.  Thankfully, it was surplus to requirements, and the show looks great without it. I even fixed the hole by cutting the painting, and I painted over the melted wax iron-shaped marks. Now it is an even better painting than it was before, although I doubt it will ever see a frame.

I am sending this late email because as an astute 'by the nose' navigator, fearless crossing mountainy roads and bóithríns, I am not proud to say that I kept getting lost on my way to Tinahely. I have been a few times now, and my trips were beginning to develop a kind of reputational vortex akin to the Bermuda Triangle. Even last Monday, on my way down with the paintings, I was diverted around Arklow town and I knew it was really time to get a grip. I have come to the conclusion that it was my fantasy that the road should run straight to The Courthouse that caused me to overshoot the turns again and again. In my daydreamy way on the lush and winding roads, I would end up in Coolboy, Carlow or Coolattin.

And so, it is with more than a bit of embarrassment that I offer this advice: , if you intend to travel tomorrow, do keep a keen eye out all the way and use your own judgement rather than blindly following roadsigns, satnav or Google. I am not afraid to use a SatNav or a map, but as I keep getting lost, I have learned to temper my enthusiasm for blindly going where Google has gone before.

If you are driving from Dublin and the north, use the N11 as far as junction 16 Rathnew, heading for Glenealy on the R772. Avoid going via Arklow as there is really no need, and there were loads of roadworks and weird diversions. 

If you are coming from the south, Tinahely is 30 mins north of Bunclody and 40 mins north of Enniscorthy. If coming from anywhere else, I can only advise beware of false directions and crazy diversions and leave in plenty of time. There is a bus service from Arklow train station at 11.58 am if you are that way inclined. It takes 45 mins.

Whatever way you travel, if you arrive early, I understand that O'Connor's Bar, next door to the Gallery, has a carvery lunch on Sundays (if that's your thing). If it's not, the Farm Shop & Restaurant provides for everyone else, and they say that most of their food is "gluten-free and vegetarian".

 

Despite my best efforts, there is pandemonium in the studio right now. Wet paintings everywhere, half-finished, half done. I am racing to the wire with my distinctive, peculiar loping gait. 

Despite my best efforts, there is pandemonium in the studio right now. Wet paintings everywhere, half-finished, half done. I am racing to the wire with my distinctive, peculiar loping gait.  You might recall that I sincerely tried to avoid this outcome several months ago by getting frames made for paintings not yet started. I even bought bubble wrap. By now most of the paintings for the show are wrapped, labelled, and ready to be hung two weeks from Monday. But recently, I discovered that the list doesn't correspond with the pile and must be redone.  So far, so typical If it involves numbers, I get it wrong every time. So, with his generosity of spirit my Beloved is marching around with loving kindness trying to reconcile the list with the neat stack of bubble-wrapped paintings. The labels are duplicated and numerous but in their content they vary wildly. I am at pains to tell him to just "trust the numbers". Whatever about a consistent title, every painting gets a number early on. Then it gets entered into my beautiful database. Always. He can bearly contain his incredulity at the confusion I have managed to create, and neither can he contain his mirth.  I am only interrupting this tranquil scene to let you know that the date has been set for the opening reception for this show at the Courthouse Arts Centre, Tinahely Co Wicklow, on Sunday afternoon, October 16, 2022. My other big news is that I will be included (in a small way) in a TV programme on TG4 called Imeall (Edge) tomorrow night, celebrating Culture Night. The Red Shoe Film crew came here months ago, and despite my love of the cúpla focail, I couldn't cobble together a few sentences 'as Gaeilge'*. For that reason, my contribution will all be 'i mBéarla'.** I find it hard enough to be coherent in English that it was extremely challenging in Irish. I gave it my best shot, and before throwing in the towel, I talked a lot of nonsense about being out of my mind instead of what was in my mind. I probably never said truer words (in Irish or in English)

as Gaeilge. in Irish language 'i mBéarla in English language

Requiem for the Norm

 

I will soon address a conference in New York about my work in the 1980s. The conference was entitled Requiem for the Norm, and celebrated the life and work of Lorenza Böttner.   This Chilean/German artist was born in 1959, and although  her artistic career spanned just sixteen years, Böttner created hundreds of individual works, using dance, photography, street performance, drawing, and installation to celebrate the complexity of armless embodiment and gender expression. Casting herself as a ballerina, a mother, a young man with glass arms, a Greek statue, Böttner’s work is irreverent and hedonistic, filled with the artist’s joy in her own body.

 

Curated by Paul B. Preciado, the exhibition was co-produced by Württembergischer Kunstverein Stuttgart, Germany, and La Virreina Centre de la Imatge Barcelona, Spain. This touring exhibition is organized by the Art Museum at the University of Toronto, Canada, in collaboration with the producers, the Württembergischer Kunstverein Stuttgart, Germany, and La Virreina Centre de la Imatge Barcelona, Spain.

 www.leslielohman.org

26 Wooster Street

New York, NY 10013

Dutch Hansa Championships

 Delighted to have come 5th in the Dutch National Championships in Heeg, today

All wild, windswept and interesting . .

 if you have been reading this blog for a while, I imagine you think this artful life is interesting and full of strange encounters?

Well, you are right. This week was no different. The studio visitor was all wild, windswept, and interesting (as well as a bit 'flappy'). I did not entertain him for long. He left abruptly, somewhat disgruntled.

Now, to be fair, I know him well. He visits regularly. In fact, his family has been guests under our roof for as long as I can remember (well over two decades). They are all intrepid, independent traveler types. They drop in, poke about and stay the whole summer.

This week, when one of them popped into the studio, the welcome was a little cold, unfriendly, possibly even, a bit, dare I say . . hostile?

It was not a good time.

These days my studio is busy. I am preoccupied, dealing with numbers. There is a lot of measuring and labeling, stacking and storing to be done, as I force myself to focus on preparing for not one, not two, but three exhibitions before the end of the year.  As a result, I can't do much painting. I rely on most of my visual thrills in artfully arranging cucumber peel or lime zest over baba ghanoush. But now as the measuring and labeling, storing and stacking continues, I can actually see an end in sight. In the past, it was different. There was never any sense of completion until the work was dispatched to the gallery. At that time, my biggest failure was to keep painting until the day before the exhibition was hung, madly framing anything that didn't move. This meant when it came to hanging the show, I would have many options, few regrets, and lots to choose from. This is no way to organise an exhibition. Trust me. So, now, I am doing it differently. I am determined to do it better. For weeks now, most of the work has been spread out all over the floor. Five months out, I find myself working with what I've got until I have it all finished, framed and ready to go.  I have even ordered bubble wrap. In this context, yesterday's visitor proved quite the disruption. With the sun shining, and a light breeze blowing, I had flung the doors wide open with abandon.  He swoops in, with a flourish. He was all glamorous and noisy, purposeful and speedy while managing at the same time to be darkly dramatic. I was in no mood.  I reached for the floor brush sweeping it about, hoping to discourage his enthusiasm for an unscheduled visit. This didn't work very well as a strategy.  Instead of getting the hint and going back out as quick as he came, he artfully avoided the messy floor by soaring above it all. At the same time, I must admit, he was making very appreciative noises (I can only assume it was about the artwork). Because my workspace is full of wet, white-painted frames, I couldn't help noticing his rigout. He was stunningly attired . . . black dress suit complete with tails, and a lovely bright orange sash to the front. As elegant as he was handsome, as noisy as he was nimble, I still urged him towards the door. But he wasn't having any of it. Eventually, tiring of us I suppose, and the artwork, he started to screech so alarmingly I feel sure the whole neighbourhood would rush in to find what the commotion was about. In desperation to see him leave, I closed the blinds. It had the effect of darkening the space. It left him one option. And thankfully he took it, leaving as swiftly as he came. For my troubles, on his departure, he endowed me with a gift of his own. During his swooping strike on this studio, he shat on the nice, clean, white frames.  As it is being washed off and repainted, we can only marvel and be forever grateful that he missed each and every one of the paintings.