|Posted by Anna Belleforte on March 14, 2018 at 5:50 AM||comments (0)|
I read an article about how a therapist discovered early on in his career that many patients benefitted most (so said the patients) from seeing their process visualized. He drew horizontal lines to describe the levels of happiness and pain in one’s life and how the line of processing a trauma zigzags through that. For the patient it puts things in perspective and provides an anchor of understanding. This is interesting to me because it demonstrates how drawing things out can help to come to grips with complex things. Like a simplified city map or schematic illustration of its public transport. In some ways, my ‘painting it out’ is a way to understand urban complexities. Perhaps my drawing will provide an anchor in Budapest; I hope recording the places and spaces I see in this artist in residence experience will both ground and elevate me. Now I think about it, that's kind of the ideal for the making too: to make art that touches a viewer as well as lifting them in some way.
|Posted by Anna Belleforte on February 28, 2018 at 4:30 PM||comments (1)|
I’ve been hibernating a bit. But it’s time to come out and test the air again. And I feel very lucky to be able to go do that in… Budapest! I’ve been offered an artist residency in the wonderful capital of Hungary. Very exciting! Almost 3 months of creative exploration in a place I’ve never been, with new contacts/friendships to explore and a chance to exhibit at the end. I expect my brain to be in overdrive, not just sorting out what to take, but which ideas to develop. There’s clearly enough architecture to see there and I feel my hands itching for intricate pen drawings. Also curious about the parks there and any art in public spaces. Residencies are such a great opportunity to open your eyes to new things, meet people with other perspectives and skills, and devote full days to art (though that can be a bit daunting!).
|Posted by Anna Belleforte on January 18, 2018 at 12:50 AM||comments (1)|
Lovely words from a collector in England who bought and commissioned work: I think that what draws me in with your artworks is the quirkiness and originality of your style. I like the way you piece things together in an unexpected way, mixing mediums and shaking up perceptions. We enjoy telling people about the artworks because they represent places and feelings that were an important part of our life. I like the way that you take inspiration from all sorts of different sources and that you change what you are doing - you do not get stuck into one style, but constantly experiment with new and varied mediums and techniques. I love the way you put things together, marrying the unexpected to get unusual and intriguing results. It keeps your artworks fresh and challenging. So it’s fun to follow your work.
|Posted by Anna Belleforte on November 12, 2017 at 7:30 AM||comments (0)|
More and more I’ve come to believe that diversity in artistic style is a real strength. I say this also in the context of a digital age, where there is so much information (and imagery) out there that it’s difficult to distinguish between the real and the fake, between original ideas and subliminally absorbed ones, and where the information we do access is ‘pre-packaged’ to fit a narrative. It’s difficult for creativity and originality to flourish in this kind of environment. But to return to style diversity, I feel this kind of flexibility exercises my creativity. I KNOW the established art world wants to see style consistency, and to make a name for yourself in the beginning this can be smart. But it almost seems passé. Because what artists can truly contribute is creative ways of thinking and how to translate creative thoughts through to hands and deeds – albeit that our products are all on a small scale. It all starts with the small. For example, when I’m thinking about new work I want to build (2-dimensionally), it helps to take an architectural image with a similar vibe, cut it up and rearrange. (Using existing images fits with my need to accept the world as it is, using it as the starting point.) Forcing different perspectives helps to see new opportunities. ‘Cutting up’ information you are given is also a way to dissect and focus on some details, encouraging true reflection, whether it’s words on a page or details in a picture. These are my starting blocks.
|Posted by Anna Belleforte on October 16, 2017 at 6:40 AM||comments (1)|
All installed for Kunstmoment in Diepenheim – the 10-day art event showing loads of artists’ work at various village locations. I love exhibiting where the owner of a place loves the work (my Irrealities series). She’s one of those genuine souls who I think likes to feel a connection with the artist she’s inviting in, appreciates the affordability of the art and gets that art can be fun and uplifting.
Since after this I’m taking a break from showing for a bit, to focus on producing a new series, it got me thinking about what it means to be a professional artist. And voila, the internet gives some great answers. This article outlines some basic truths: https://skinnyartist.com/9-warning-signs-of-an-amateur-artist/ Being creative takes work: hours, discipline, brain-exercising, long-term commitment, marketing tasks and an understanding that your art is never perfect and you’ll never stop learning, but that you keep making because you need to be true to yourself.
|Posted by Anna Belleforte on October 6, 2017 at 6:30 AM||comments (0)|
We took down the ‘Sense of Place’ exhibition at DePloegh this week. I think we all felt it was a good show, and with several works sold I feel a sense of satisfaction. On the last weekend there was a group of art-lovers visiting (the Friends of the Teyler’s Museum from Haarlem – oldest museum in Holland, wonderful collection of antiquities, by the way), who loved the exhibition and the Kunst & Varen art route. Someone also pointed out Dutch/German artist Paul Citroen to me: architectural collages from the 1920s. The name didn’t ring a bell, but I can see a similarity – the most famous piece being a series of buildings compacted together showing a metropolitan city. Looking into him a bit more, it’s interesting how he ended up going in a completely different direction: painting portraits. I’m a true believer in not sticking to a single road. The consistency much of the commercial art world seems to want can turn into monotony for a some artists. I’m curious what drew him away from architecture into the world of faces.
|Posted by Anna Belleforte on September 30, 2017 at 3:00 PM||comments (0)|
Every year I admire the selections they make, yet interestingly the annual Van Lanschot Art Prize (which I didn’t submit to) has decided that none of the 500+ works submitted was worth nominating this year. Apparently the jury felt no works met all 3 criteria: visual impact, representative of our current times, originality. Have we criteria-ed everything to death? Or rather, what are we asking of artists today? I just find it hard to believe that there really weren’t 10 works of art of quality (read: skilfully drafted visual stimuli that touch you in some way). I can appreciate that a jury needs to justify nominations, and a checklist helps. But what about their gut feelings – has this simply been banned from art? And what defines impact, contemporariness and originality in relation to art? Well apparently not the art itself. It’s all about the ‘explanatory text’: what does the artist SAY about his/her purpose, process or end-product? The crux of the matter is: they (established art critics, juries, curators) want to see a specific explanation, a specific WHY behind the making, and preferably one that shows social engagement. I can only reference myself in this regard… and my why is a basic need to create with my hands and be mentally stimulated by a subject (whether socially engaging or not). But is this enough? Given that I haven’t yet been nominated for any Dutch art prizes, I suspect not. To be honest, this is not entirely my ambition, but I can see that it’s good for an artist’s profile and that there’s an art business out there that relies on such validations.
So while artists are expected to create on instinct, they must also explain themselves to survive in the contemporary art world. I’m all for good communication skills, and yes the story behind the work can be enlightening, but isn’t the purpose of choosing visual means to communicate precisely the point: to express things we don’t want to put into words, things we would rather leave in abbreviated form, things that others can do with or think over as they please?
Be eloquent in order to be relevant, it seems, at least in this specific world. Of course, the art must also be good. Yet in a culture of image saturation, it’s not easy to achieve visual impact; in a culture of broadcasting self over interchange with others, it isn’t easy to recognize what the collective spirit of the times is; in a culture of criteria (and the need to sometimes earn money), it’s hard to be completely original. In fact, originality in art is impossible – all an artist can ever do is build on what went before. I wonder if any pre-21st century artist would have been nominated by the jury in 2017? I’m sure they would say yes, because they have the perspective of history. I guess I’m just wondering: has it been necessary to create a circus of words around art? Why do artistic choices and motivation need explaining in order to be valued? We value a writer for their words without asking for a painted explanation. We value the skills of a furniture maker or a doctor without asking them why they do what they do.
#contemporaryart #kunstprijs #whymakeart
|Posted by Anna Belleforte on September 14, 2017 at 2:35 PM||comments (0)|
I would say foremost is the sense of well-being it gives. When you come home from a long day, you take a few moments to decompress and looking at art you like can help. You can lose yourself in looking, and if the artwork has lots of details you always find something new. The kind of day you experienced also allows you to see or interpret new things. Or maybe it’s soothing colours that works for you, or the art is a trigger to a happy memory, or you just connect with it in some way (that may not even need words).
Secondly, I think people buy art because they believe that quality matters. I don’t mean in a show-off kind of way, but in a way that gives us a sense of solidity and footing. In an era when everything is replaceable and nothing is made to last, we have lost a sense of what lasting quality is. Advertising for expensive goods is full of words like quality, luxury, authentic – so much so that we may have forgotten what they really mean and how they are achieved. It’s good branding, but it takes time to make quality, to craft something, to evolve an authentic idea. And it takes time for the maker to grow and achieve excellence. Personally I know that I’m not at the excellence stage of my creativity yet, which is part of the reason I don’t price my work high. But I feel I’m good and that I’m growing and constantly working towards excellence.
These are my thoughts today - but I'd like to know: what might motivate YOU to buy art?
|Posted by Anna Belleforte on September 7, 2017 at 8:40 AM||comments (0)|
It was a wonderful opening for the Sense of Place exhibition – including 3 works going to new owners! Always interesting to see/hear people’s response to my work, and to the exhibition concept which included artists Justyna Pennards-Sycz, Hanneke Barendregt, Nannita van Veen and Jenny Ritzenhoff. Since lots of people asked, I will explain the process behind my encaustic works in the Elsewhere series. I draw directly onto plywood with graphite or colour pencil (even though it looks photographic – it’s not), then apply hot wax and pigments, send transfer another drawing by rubbing the ink onto warm wax and wetting the paper to disintegrate it. Then another wax layer and playing about with the resulting images. Together it creates a depth and moody/cloudy atmosphere.
|Posted by Anna Belleforte on August 31, 2017 at 11:05 AM||comments (0)|
Ok, summer’s come to an end. Back to work! The exhibition A Sense of Place was hung today at De Ploegh (for the month of September). My Irrealities and Elsewhere series are showing. I often get comments on my tight grouping of pictures. I appreciate there’s much to be said for calmness, giving an artwork space, plenty of white wall left, but I quite like the salon style of hanging art – all that loveliness crowded together and going on a treasure hunt for the best bits for you personally. The mixed media Irrealities has lots of dense imagery and shared colouring, and in grouping them together I feel it pulls the eye in to observe the details, the small lines, and you can jump to the next and the next.