Welcome to the 12th issue of ProWax Journal

It’s an even dozen! 

Welcome to the 12th issue of ProWax Journal, a publication produced by members of the group, ProWax—professional artists working in the medium of wax and encaustic. Our goal in creating this publication is to share with the larger community some of the ideas and conversations we share within our Facebook group. Our editor in chief, Maritza Ruiz-Kim, was on sabbatical for this issue so Nancy Natale and I stepped in to share the editorial job.  We hope you like what you read. As always, we encourage you to join the conversation via the Comments section. 

Warm regards,
Joanne Mattera, Consulting Editor
Nancy Natale, Featured Articles Editor

Curatorial Thinking

BY JOANNE MATTERA

What does it mean, exactly, to curate an art exhibition? Curating is realizing a vision by means of the art of others, each work advancing the curatorial thesis with depth and breadth. Here’s a good working description of the process by Mary Birmingham, now chief curator at the Visual Art Center of New Jersey in Summit, but at the time of our conversation, curator at the Hunterdon Art Museum in Clinton, New Jersey: “Something stimulates my thinking. Then I start collecting names, which connect to other names. Studio visits follow each round of discoveries until the show develops.” 

Since I do a fair bit of curating and have worked with both gallerists and museum curators over the past decade, I’d like to share some of what I have come to know. The examples that follow are illustrated with links to exhibitions I have curated or been involved with. This is not for self aggrandizement—I do plenty of that on my own blog and Facebook pages and don’t need to do that here—but to offer clear and accessible working examples of the ideas I posit.

Panoramic view of A Few Conversations About Color, my curatorial effort for dm contemporary gallery, New York City, January-February 2015. I wanted to assemble a visual colloquy with the work of a number of artists working in a variety of mediums, all of which engaged color as a primary element. From left: Nancy Natale, Joanne Freeman (in far gallery), Matthew Langley, Ruth Hiller, Julie Karabenick, myself. Photo: the author

Panoramic view of “A Few Conversations About Color”, my curatorial effort for dm contemporary gallery, New York City, January-February 2015. I wanted to assemble a visual colloquy with the work of a number of artists working in a variety of mediums, all of which engaged color as a primary element. From left: Nancy Natale, Joanne Freeman (in far gallery), Matthew Langley, Ruth Hiller, Julie Karabenick, myself. Photo: the author

There are different kinds of curators

Let’s look at the hierarchy of curatorial activity. Typically, museum curators are at the top and artist curators are at the bottom, but with a big-name artist and a small-town museum, that hierarchy would be inverted, so let’s just say that the field of curating is open to many in the art community working at all levels.

Museum curators work for or within an institution. They select themes and artists. To that end, they look locally at open studios, travel to nearby major cities to view exhibitions and events, and annually visit a few art fairs farther afield—New York City, Miami, Los Angeles, maybe Havana, London, Istanbul or elsewhere around the globe—to see what’s out there. While curators at this level have autonomy, they work within the mandate of the museum, whether it’s to embrace art and science, for instance, or to focus on the work of a particular region.

Gallerists curate their own gallery exhibitions. While most don’t typically identify each exhibition as having been “curated by” themselves, the understanding is that a good gallerist is in fact always curating the selection of works that go onto the gallery walls. Occasionally a gallerist will curate for an institution, in which case she would be identified as curator.

Freelance curators may be artists, but often they are entrepreneurs who manage a variety of art-related projects: curating, consulting, private dealing. All are deeply involved in the arts community, seeking, finding and organizing sometimes large numbers of artists, as museum curators do, but typically on a smaller financial scale. A freelance curator operating in a large city such as New York City, might create exhibitions for the lobby of a corporate client (a financial institution, say) or an academic gallery, or perhaps for a commercial gallery. Freelance curators get paid.

Artist curators are newly legitimate. Though there is a long history of artists running galleries—think Alfred Stieglitz and his American Place gallery in New York City in the Thirties, and the genre of artist-run co-op galleries in which artists handle everything from curating exhibitions to sweeping the floor—it is only fairly recently that individual artists have begun to curate on a regular basis and to be respected for the work they do. Some museum curators may look askance at artist curators in much the same way that professional artists might look at Sunday painters—do it, enjoy it, but you’re not in the same league—while others embrace the fresh point of view that artists bring to curating.

A good example of the kind of exhibition that can come as a result of open lines of curatorial energy is the exhibition Doppler Shift, curated by Mary Birmingham for the Visual Art Center of New Jersey in 2014. While the exhibition is Birmingham’s own curatorial effort, the initial concept was developed by artist Mel Prest, who took a small traveling version of the show (the work fit into a suitcase) around Europe several years earlier. ProWax member Debra Ramsay introduced Birmingham to an iteration of Prest’s show in Brooklyn. With Prest’s consent, Birmingham grew it into a multi-gallery effort at her museum.

Installation view of "Doppler Shift" at the Visual Art Center of New Jersey, curated by Mary Birmingham from a concept and early exhibition developed by artist Mel Prest. Photo: Guido Winkler

Installation view of “Doppler Shift” at the Visual Art Center of New Jersey, curated by Mary Birmingham from a concept and early exhibition developed by artist Mel Prest. Photo: Guido Winkler

Most artist curators work for free, curating being an extension of our practice. But I say, if you do the job, ask for payment. It might be a flat fee—anything from a few hundred dollars to a few thousand—or a percentage of sales. Artist curators are typically active in many art communities, and a good artist curator will bring together members of several communities in service to a vision. Indeed, creating community is one of the reasons I curate. One thing artist curators need to guard against is becoming known for putting themselves in every show they curate. Sure, sometimes we include our work, but if that’s the only way we get to show—the community notices—we undercut our own best interests.

What does a curator do?

Now that we understand some of the basic kinds of curators there are, let’s look at what the curator does.

A curator has a vision. A curator conceives and develops an idea for an exhibition. Ideally, the idea is fresh, but even a conventional theme can be infused with new thinking. After much consideration she selects the work, choosing so that each piece illuminates some aspect of the PWJ.Mattera.Issue12.Pullquotes.Rtexhibition theme. Typically, the planning for a curated exhibition will take ten times longer than the run of the show. Studio visits alone are demanding of a curator’s time, and there’s a lot of thinking about how everything she is seeing might come together in a cohesive, well-selected whole.

When the artists have been selected but the work has not—that is, when a person brings together a selected group of artists but leaves the selection of work up to the artists themselves, we call the show organized by rather than curated by.

Installation view of Organic to Geometric: Investigations in Structure and Surface, curated by Carol Pelletier for Endicott College, where Carol is Chair of Fine Arts and Professor of Art. From left: Dawna Bemis, Paul Rinaldi, Howard Hersh, Nancy Natale; foreground, Susan Lasch Krevitt. Carol’s idea was to bring together artists working in encaustic without the result being an “encaustic show.” To that end she developed a working theme, perfectly described by the title, and selected work to sustain and amplify it. Photo: Michael Miller

Installation view of Organic to Geometric: Investigations in Structure and Surface, curated by Carol Pelletier for Endicott College, where Carol is Chair of Fine Arts and Professor of Art. From left: Dawna Bemis, Paul Rinaldi, Howard Hersh, Nancy Natale; foreground, Susan Lasch Krevitt. Carol’s idea was to bring together artists working in encaustic without the result being an “encaustic show.” To that end she developed a working theme, perfectly described by the title, and selected work to sustain and amplify it.
Photo: Michael Miller

A curator typically writes a statement. The visual result of the curator’s (or organizer’s) thesis is the exhibition itself, but a statement allows the viewer to understand more fully what the show is about and why the curator selected the artists she did. A statement might be a short wall text or printed handout. Going a bit further, the text might state the thesis of the show and then discuss each artist’s work. Going yet further, the text might include an image from each artist so that those not visiting the show itself show would see how the curatorial concept came together.

Ideally, the curator produces a document with more heft than a handout because it allows the exhibition to have a life beyond the dates of the show and be available for reference. Brochures, catalogs, websites, or blog posts are all good options, depending on your time and money budget. Given print-on-demand options, the catalog could exist as a document online (ideally, free for viewing) as well as being available for sale as a print book.

As an example, here’s the catalog, designed by ProWax member Ruth Hiller, which I conceived for the exhibition A Few Conversations About Color at dm contemporary in New York City in January-February 2015. Print-on-demand catalogs are a great way to get a good catalog without spending a lot of money upfront.

The catalog for A Few Conversations About Color, organized by me and designed by Ruth Hiller. My essay provides context for the artists, each of whom is represented with a statement and four pages of images, viewable online by clicking image

The catalog for A Few Conversations About Color, organized by me and designed by Ruth Hiller. My essay provides context for the artists, each of whom is represented with a statement and four pages of images, viewable online by clicking image

I had been hesitant to go the print-on-demand route until I started to see galleries publishing such catalogs. Indeed, even museums now publish this way. Here’s Doppler Effect produced by Mary Birmingham for the Visual Art Center of New Jersey. With institutional funding behind her, Birmingham was able to hire an essayist to complement her own curatorial essay and produce a large enough print run to give each artist multiple copies of the catalog. It’s also online and will remain so, allowing the exhibition to exist in cyberspace forever.

Another wonderful example is Organic to Geometric: Investigations in Structure and Surface, curated by ProWax member Carol Pelletier for Endicott College in Beverly, Mass. Designed by ProWax member Karen Freedman, it features a foreword by the curator, who secured professional installation photography, and a spread for each of the 19 invited artists.

The catalog for Doppler Shift, viewable online by clicking image

The catalog for Organic to Geometric, designed by Karen Freedman, with a curator’s foreword by Carol Pelletier and an essay by me, viewable online here

The catalog for Organic to Geometric, designed by Karen Freedman, with a curator’s foreword by Carol Pelletier and an essay by me, viewable online by clicking image

 

When circumstances do not allow, consider a dedicated blog. With the permission of the curator and participating artists, I created a dedicated blog for Formal Aspects, a five-artist exhibition at the Cape Cod Museum of Art in 2015. If you’re the curator, check with the institution to see if there’s any specific information about the venue that should be included.

If you are curating

• A compelling theme or thesis is the foundation of a strong show

• Come up with an evocative title that conveys your intent

• It’s not enough to secure the venue; consider the physical infrastructure. Is the space set up for an exhibition? Is there access to deliver work? Is there parking?

• Consider the administrative infrastructure. One of the great things about curating for a gallery or museum is that administrative help is available. If you’re curating in a pop-up space, you’re on your own administratively—and it’s a daunting job

• If you’re putting out a call to artists, state all the information up front: who, what, where, when. If artists will be asked to contribute financially to the exhibition, or if they will be expected to cover the cost of shipping their work one or both ways, note that. Be clear about what you’re looking for thematically

• Don’t be afraid to say no. You are the curator. You don’t need to justify your selections

• It is, however, important to remember that artists have opened their studios to you. If you do not plan to include their work, let them know in a timely manner. They may have other projects for the work that had been under consideration

• Once you’ve made your selections, create a reference document that each selected artist can refer to so that you’re not inundated with calls asking about delivery, opening dates and such

• Produce a press release that you distribute to the various media outlets. State the name of the show, the name of the curator, dates, location, hours of the exhibition. Include a short description of the show and a list of exhibiting artists. Media are likely to include a photo or photos if you provide them.

• Provide a copy of the press release to each of your artists, who will be creating their own posts and newsletters to promote the event

• Be clear to your artists that press requests should go through you. This is your curatorial project. You don’t want an artist creating her own press materials to make it sound as if she’s in a solo show, nor do you want the press to focus on one artist

• Additionally, you might create a list of talking points to enable your artists to describe the show cogently and accurately (helpful if they are being interviewed)

• If you cave to pressure to include your friends, even if their work is not right (or not good enough), you are not a curator, you are a wimp

• If you’re working with juried work, you are not a curator. You’re an organizer. Understand the difference. You will still have many or most of the responsibilities previously stated, but without having selected the work, you cannot claim the title of curator (well, you could, but you’ll look like an amateur)

• You’re going to put in a lot of time to conceptualize and curate a show. Select a venue that’s worthy of the effort and the art. Coffee shops, bakeries, laundromats and the like are not worthy of professional effort

• Can’t find the right bricks-and-mortar space? Curate an online exhibition. Online curating—on your blog or in a dedicated website—can be a great way to hone your curatorial thinking, and it’s a mitzvah for the art community, which never has enough visibility

If you are invited to be in a curated show

• Do you know the curator? If not, do your due diligence. Do a Google search, ask your artist friends if they are familiar with the curator or the institution. You want to be part of a project that advances your career and brings something to the community


PWJ.Mattera.Issue10.Pullquotes-2.left• Is the show one of those hybrids
, which seem to be popular in some parts of the encaustic community, that includes invited artists as well as a juried show? Vet it carefully. As an invited artist you are there to make sure the quality of the show is high. But if the juried entries aren’t good, you could be embarrassed by your inclusion. If you’re submitting to the juried segment, know that other artists have been brought in as invited guests, paying no fee. You’re the worker bee

• What’s the title of the show? If it’s yet another “Encaustic Art” of “Wax” show, you will not be served well. Look for themes that go beyond medium, a great way to broaden your professional visibility

. Ask “Who else have you invited? Who else will be in the show?” The two questions are not the same. You want to know who has turned down the invitation as well as who has accepted. If the artists you respect have turned down the invitation, you might contact them to inquire why. Most artists are willing to share this kind of information if you promise confidentiality—and keep that promise

• Priorities change. The exhibition you might have said yes to when you were just starting out may not be the one you want to be in now

• Ask: “How do you envision the installation? How big is the venue?” You labor to make good work. Assuming you are beyond the beginner stage, you owe it to yourself to place your work in the best possible light, both metaphorically and physically. The last thing you want is to be in a poorly lit, overhung show

• You want to be in a show that lifts you up with good work by good artists, not drag you down with the inclusion of hobbyists eager for an opportunity to show

• Respect the curator. Include her/his name in the exhibitions listing on your resume

• If you are contacted by the press, refer requests to the curator

• Remember: You are the lucky recipient of an invitation to show in an exhibition for which you will do none of the heavy lifting. That’s a gift!

So, should you curate?

If you have a great idea that you know you can realize with the very best work of the very best artists available to you, if you are well organized, and if you are willing to work harder than you can possibly imagine, then yes. Curating is a wonderful way to be part of something beyond your studio practice. Done well, your curatorial effort is a gift to the community. You enhance your visibility in the art world with an exhibition that in turn enhances the visibility of each featured artist. But done badly, it’s the very opposite of everything I just said.

Digging Deep

BY DEBORAH WINIARSKI

“It doesn’t make much difference how the paint is put on as long as something has been said.

Technique is just a means of arriving at a statement.” 

— Jackson Pollock

 Creating Art requires the heart and soul of the artist. For Art to happen, artists must dig deep within themselves and risk being known through their work. Their preferences, concerns – the way they need to see the world – become seeable, identifiable. It’s a risky business. The identity of the artist and their work become synonymous and cannot be separated.

Additionally, the medium of encaustic allows for digging deep in a literal sense. The yielding nature of wax makes it possible for artists to scrape, carve, incise, excavate – revealing the surface below. The physical act of digging becomes a vital means to expression. For these artists, metaphor and process merge.

Each of the artists featured below dig deep in their own unique way – creating works that are distinct to their personal voice and vision.


Patricia Aaron, Aina, 2015; wax, pigment, ink, mixed media on panel; 48 x 48 inches

Patricia Aaron, Aina, 2015; wax, pigment, ink, mixed media on panel; 48 x 48 inches

Patricia Aaron, Portal, 2015; wax, pigment, ink, marble dust on panel; 48 x 48 inches. Photos: Dana McGrath

Patricia Aaron, Portal, 2015; wax, pigment, ink, marble dust on panel; 48 x 48 inches.
Photos: Dana McGrath

“As an ardent observer, I arrive in every new place with open eyes and an open mind. I explore the community, listening to the rhythm of culture and language and absorbing the vibrancy of my surroundings. The elements of human connection and of raw landscape are a vital part of my work.”

— Partricia Aaron


Jeff Juhlin, Ullull Kai (Blue Ocean), 2016; pigmented beeswax, oil, paper, ink on panel; 20 x 18 inches

Jeff Juhlin, Ullull Kai (Blue Ocean), 2016; pigmented beeswax, oil, paper, ink on panel; 20 x 18 inches

Jeff Juhlin, Stratum, 2015; pigmented beeswax, oil, paper, ink on panel; 39 x 35 inches

Jeff Juhlin, Stratum, 2015; pigmented beeswax, oil, paper, ink on panel; 39 x 35 inches

“This body of work is about discovery and revelation. I build up the surface and create veils of drawings, paper, pigments and other materials and then excavate, removing sections and areas of the work exposing the mystery of the painting’s history and evolution.”

— Jeff Juhlin


Christine S. Aaron, Vestige IV, 2015; wood, mirror shards, encaustic; 15.5 x 15.5 x 2 inches

Christine S. Aaron, Vestige IV, 2015; wood, mirror shards, encaustic; 15.5 x 15.5 x 2 inches

Christine S. Aaron, Vestige V, 2015; wood, mirror shards, ink, encaustic; 15.5 x 15.5 x 2 inches. Photos: David Wohl

Christine S. Aaron, Vestige V, 2015; wood, mirror shards, ink, encaustic; 15.5 x 15.5 x 2 inches. Photos: David Wohl

“My work investigates memory, time and the fragility of human connection. The content of the work guides my materials choices. Found tree fragments serve as metaphor for the life cycle. Their history, recorded in rings, remains hidden from view, the way humans hold within the physical and emotional marks of personal experience.“

— Christine S. Aaron


Deborah Kapoor, Residual, 2015, encaustic and mixed media, 16 x 12 x 2 inches

Deborah Kapoor, Residual, 2015, encaustic and mixed media, 16 x 12 x 2 inches

Deborah Kapoor, Peripheral Damage, 2015, encaustic and mixed media, 16 x 12 x 2 inches

Deborah Kapoor, Peripheral Damage, 2015, encaustic and mixed media, 16 x 12 x 2 inches

“I am interested in the connection between nature and the body. In these pieces, I am exploring the process of transformation from one state to another. Working from inspiration image sources of bones, bandages, and blood, I am thinking about the literal and metaphorical aftermath of cutting and burning on the body.”

–Deborah Kapoor


Maritza Ruiz-Kim, Concepción #6, cave, 2014; archival pigment print on moab, wax pigment, 4.5 x 7.5 x 6 inches

Maritza Ruiz-Kim, Concepción #6, cave, 2014; archival pigment print on moab, wax pigment, 4.5 x 7.5 x 6 inches

Maritza Ruiz-Kim, Concepción #1, molten, 2014; digital photograph, archival pigment print on Canson BFK; 28.25 x 20.5 inches

Maritza Ruiz-Kim, Concepción #1, molten, 2014; digital photograph, archival pigment print on Canson BFK; 28.25 x 20.5 inches

Concepcíon is the first image in my series titled Core. I use molten, pigmented wax to form a portrait of a specific persona, then I make photographic records of that fleeting moment when the material is fluid. Subsequent iterations of the persona track its emergence into the public eye.”

–Maritza Ruiz-Kim


Sarah E. Rehmer, positive/negative stories #2, 2015, encaustic and paper on panel, 8 x 10 x 4 inches

Sarah E. Rehmer, positive/negative stories #2, 2015, encaustic and paper on panel, 8 x 10 x 4 inches

Sarah E. Rehmer, stitching stories #1, 2014; hand sewn paper with encaustic on canvas; 30 x 30 x 5 inches

Sarah E. Rehmer, stitching stories #1, 2014; hand sewn paper with encaustic on canvas; 30 x 30 x 5 inches

“In my current works with paper, upheavals and outbursts, I continue to explore the idea of misplaced memories while also considering what happens to these memories and feelings we purposely bury. I am questioning what happens when our buried thoughts and emotions start rising to the surface and breaking through.”

— Sarah E. Rehmer


Lisa Pressman, Mapping Time, 2015, encaustic, 24 x 24 inches

Lisa Pressman, Mapping Time, 2015, encaustic, 24 x 24 inches

Lisa Pressman, Passages, 2014, encaustic, 24 x 24 inches. Photos: Jay Rosenblatt

Lisa Pressman, Passages, 2014, encaustic, 24 x 24 inches. Photos: Jay Rosenblatt

Digging Deep resonates for me conceptually and in relationship to the materiality of encaustic. My imagery emerged from experiencing the passing of my mother. My paintings are multi-layered and include painterly marks and expression along with areas of excavation, the findings of what lies beneath.”

— Lisa Pressman


In Five Words, Part One: Darla Bjork

Darla Bjork

In Five Words is a regular feature of Prowax Journal in which we go literal, lyrical, and poetic. Visual art does not exist in a vacuum, it sings along with poetry and prose, music and rhythm. Each issue we ask our feature artist to comment on one of their works with five single words, chosen to add meaning and highlight intent. Enjoy.

The Second Gate, 2015, encaustic and oil stick on wood panel, 29 x 29 inches

The Second Gate, 2015, encaustic and oil stick on wood panel, 29 x 29 inches

luminescent
sensuous
ethereal
translucent
expansive

Essential Questions: How do you stay true to your vision?

EDITED BY JANE GUTHRIDGE

When reading about Ellsworth Kelly’s passing, I came across a number of quotes about the artist’s fierce determination to adhere to his own vision. Roberta Bernstein said, “[Kelly] had his own vision of things and he stuck with it, and it wasn’t about following trends.” Artist Terry Winters said he admired Kelly’s “sustained belief in his own project.”

This led me to ask Pro Wax members the following questions: How do you stay true to your vision? What advice from others do you consider and take to heart and when do you decide to let it go?

Kathy Cantwell: When what I’m working on is honest and tantamount to who I am as an artist, then there is usually little that will sway me. However I always keep a door open for criticism to come in. Sometimes in my zeal to pursue my vision I may lose sight of certain aspects of the work that are unresolved. Letting in credible criticism from other artists, gallerists, and curators may lead me further into my vision.

Dorothy Cochran: I have always been an independent thinker and creator with specific ideas of what I wanted to express and how I would accomplish it. In retrospect, from decades of art making, I have adhered to my own vision, with only a side glance to what others are doing. Holding true to a course of action gives you deep satisfaction when looking back and seeing the continuity of your thought process (not necessarily medium).

Cheryl D. McClure: I listen to the people whose opinion I respect. That said, I keep with my own vision of what I think is personally authentic. Sometimes remarks will come back to me later, at a time when I might be more open to suggestion. What I hope I do is keep my mind open to accept other viewpoints about my work and to know when to keep my own counsel.

Tracey Adams: I’ve had to pull up the drawbridge when it comes to giving credence to what others have to say about my work. I listen, but don’t necessarily act, and try hard to stay firm with my beliefs. Not only does it take a lot of courage to be an artist, it takes courage to stay on course with what you believe is right for you at a given time. I’ve always worked on the organic to geometric spectrum and know this might discredit my work with galleries, curators and others as it swings to one side, then back to the other. This is how I keep my inspiration, ideas and work fresh — it’s got to be compelling and challenging or boredom sets in. Knowing and trusting oneself takes a long time.

Beverly Rippel: I have seen the situation in which an instructor/professor, or even a gallery owner, urges an artist to follow a course down a particular path that either resonates with their own thought patterns or financially satisfies their gallery’s needs. Here is where one must decide which path is the right one for personal goals. It may be hard not to be swayed, or to admit that we might be succumbing to pressure, but it is important to keep the brush in one’s own hand and not surrender it to anyone if one’s unique voice is to be fully realized.

That said, through the years there have been several people (museum curators and directors, professors, contemporary gallerists, and artists whom I greatly respect) who have said things to me in both critique and compliment, that I can remember nearly verbatim. Their words play over in my head and I believe they have encouraged me to grow along my own chosen path. From the outset I decided that I wasn’t going to make art just to make money; I could always wait tables for that. There is nothing in this world quite so exhilarating than to be in the act of making a thought materialize.

Krista Svalbonas: I most often listen to advice/critique from those individuals I trust or solicit advice from. Even then it’s important to consider those ideas against your own convictions. Once in a while an unsolicited comment from someone I don’t know very well may spark an idea or new thought process, but that is very rare. From the teaching perspective, I pay very special attention to give students feedback that is neutral and not colored by my own aesthetic. I try very hard to understand where students are coming from, see their motivation, and then foster that in a constructive way. I will say that allowing others in to comment and provide perspective can be a very wonderful way to make a breakthrough or to consider a direction that you would never have thought of on your own. That’s part of the nice thing about collaborating; even though it’s not a critique environment per se, collaboration does push you out of your comfort zone and into an area that allows you to bring fresh ideas into the studio.

Debra Claffey: It’s taken me years to learn how to listen and hear advice/critique without getting waylaid, especially from those I consider more knowledgeable and experienced. Like Beverly, I can remember some comments verbatim. I just have to work through each and decide for myself whether they apply and are useful.

Mitchell Visoky: I have had much advice given to me over the years. I always welcomed it and thought about how valuable it was. I try to evaluate the comments depending on how much I value the expertise or experience of the commenter. Sometimes my own personal issues get in the way of acting on good advice.

Patricia Dusman: If I am on a good path I try not to be exposed to a lot of outside influence to help keep me on track. We all need to remember a comment or critique is just someone’s opinion on that day, in that moment. If you feel strongly about your work, you are free to totally discard it if you choose. In a time of indecision or at a fork in the road you can reconsider those comments and critiques.

Nancy Ferro: I am my own critic. If suggestions are very far from my own thoughts though, I ask myself if my concept should be more clearly stated. I do appreciate looking back myself to see how they are all related and how my work has evolved and why.

Elise Wagner: The Ellsworth Kelly obit had a quote in it that really rang true for me as my own work is transforming. The quote was, “I wondered, ‘Can I make a painting with just five panels of color in a row?’ I loved it, but I didn’t think the world would. They’d think, it’s not enough.”

I couldn’t believe how in that moment with my own work, I could relate to this. I listen to the advice of many but don’t follow it. More and more, I try to follow the inner voice and vision I have for the work. This has been hard. I am leaving things out that have come to be known as trademarks or signature aspects in my work, which is exactly why I am now leaving them out.

Letting it go, listening from within rather than from outside, has transformed my work, my palette and my vision.

Artists Communities: Michele Wiji

BY MILISA GALAZZI

Milisa Galazzi: Thank you so much, Michele, for agreeing to be interviewed for ProWax Journal. As you know, I am deeply committed to exploring the intersection of artists and communities, and by choosing to interview you I am continuing to mine the ‘community’ side of that equation. You work as a full time employee at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. Could you tell our readership more about your role there and could you describe a typical day?

Michele Wiji: I work at The Met as a Research Associate in the Modern and Contemporary Art Department, one of the 17 curatorial departments at the museum. Essentially, I have two roles in this position: one driven by research, the other administrative. The research can take many twists and turns. My work can include providing primary source material, which contextualizes existing works in the collection; delving into provenances of works of art; researching works of art in special exhibitions, and writing about them; or more obscure matters like tracking down art works that have been de-accessioned, discovering vintage documentary photography and providing information for catalogues that we publish.  

PWJ.Issue12_1.Pullquote.Misa_rightI am also heavily involved in organizing special loan exhibitions for our department. These exhibitions can either be generated solely by The Met or are a collaboration between our museum and other major institutions. Known as traveling shows, these exhibitions involve coordinating loans between several institutions, which can be complex. The average time to organize a special loan exhibition is about two years or more. This part of my job is a terrific task because I get to work with every single department in the museum, from editorial to conservation, photography, digital media, communication, finance, merchandising and even catering. I’m lucky enough to have a job where there is no “typical day.”

I begin my day with breakfast with colleagues from other departments in the staff cafeteria. It’s a wonderful way to catch up. About once a month or so, I will attend a lecture by one of the curators on an exhibition that has opened in the museum that I have not had the privilege to work on. I divide my day between research and administrative work according to the needs of the department. This may involve a trip to our incredible research library or the archives, or I might just work at my desk. My day may be punctuated with meetings. One of the best things about working at the Met is that if I am having a bad day, all I need to do is leave my desk and spend some time walking through the galleries. I challenge myself to look for a new object in the collection every day and I am never disappointed. It’s an extraordinary museum.  

MG: Michele, you have a wonderful sense of humor, and you often say that you “work with dead artists.” Can you talk a bit more about what you mean by that?

MW: Dead artists are very compliant people to work with. I like them! Joking aside, it’s really just an issue of chronology for me. I specialize in European Modernism, which means that my knowledge base is art made from about 1900 to 1945, mostly in Western Europe. This is a narrow scope, and I have other colleagues who have different interests. Most artists producing art within that time period are no longer with us. Working in this time period is interesting to me because I am able to focus on the art itself without being distracted by the artist. The art can stand alone as an independent object and be evaluated on its own terms.

Of course this is not to say that the artist is ignored. Viewing art from any time period comes down to the interplay between the artist’s intention when creating the object and the viewer’s reception of the work of art. When the artist is still alive, this becomes an ever-changing dialogue. When [the artist is] dead, the art itself becomes the legacy and can be viewed independently and in the context of other art works from the same period.

Art has no agenda. Artists often do. Picasso once famously said, “Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth,” by which I think he meant that while art may be illusory, art objects provide us with a window to understand life. So I like to focus on the art itself. As art historians it is our job to reconstruct the who, what, when, where, and how a work came to be. Most importantly we work hard to answer the question, Why did the artist chose this form of expression? When the artist is alive, the answers to these questions are often dictated by the artist. When you only have the voice of the artwork itself, you often get a different answer. I am very diligent about researching the artist and the context in which the art works were made. In addition, I do like the purity of solely looking at the art!

MG: From my perspective, Michele, the artist community in which you work comprises the deceased artist’s family members, gallery representatives, and/or the artist’s estate managers. This is a very important part of an artist’s ongoing community. Could you talk more about this community of people who represent the artist and his/her work after the artist is no longer part of the community?

MW: You are right. The artist’s work is obviously part of a larger community when the artist is no longer here to represent him/herself. Family members will often take on the task of caring for works of art and for maintaining the artist’s legacy. This community of caregivers for the art can come in the form of a not-for-profit foundation, a private museum, or gallery that still represents the artist or simply manages the artist’s estate.

MG: Because our readership is comprised of artists who are alive and actively engaged in art making, what advice do you have for artists who hope to have their artwork become part of the cultural conversation long after the artist has passed?

MW: This is a very difficult question to answer. I think it is really important for artists to remain true to their own mission and creative output. However, artists cannot be part of the cultural conversation when they are dead if they were not ‘being heard’ while alive. So the more that artists can share their artwork with others, the better. This is especially true when sharing their artwork with people who are writing and conversing about art. For this reason, artists must engage with curators, critics, and gallery owners. The great thing about the technological world in which we live is that artists can share their work via social media and really attract a very large audience. We are probably living in one of the most democratic times for artists to be part of the cultural conversation.

MG: Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts about Artist Communities from your perspective working at the Metropolitan Museum in New York City. I am confident that you have given our ProWax Journal readership much food for thought.

 

Safety Equipment for Your Studio

By Patricia Dusman

A New Feature for ProWax Journal: Working in the Encaustic Studio

A new series will feature short articles by various writers on topics that provide useful information. The idea is that readers can easily reference details they may need at a later date.

The series begins with Patricia Dusman’s Safety Equipment for Your Studio, highlighting three types of equipment to make your studio a safer place to work.

— Nancy Natale, Featured Articles Editor

Perhaps you thought that the only type of safety equipment needed in your studio was for ventilation. This Q&A article focuses on three other types of safety equipment that most artists need, especially if they work with encaustic paint.

Do I need to have a fire extinguisher in my studio and if so, what type should I have?

Chart showing combustible materials by type A, B, C

Chart showing combustible materials by type A, B, C

Having at least one fire extinguisher in your studio is a safe practice, especially since you are using many electrical appliances, hot wax, and perhaps live flames. Keep appropriate working fire extinguishers handy near all exits of your studio. Place extinguishers near exits so that you know where one is at all times. If you mount them on the wall near exits, they won’t get knocked over or buried under something in your studio and can be found by anyone.

Types of fires are distinguished by types of materials burned. Types A, B, and C, as illustrated below, are the most common. Fire extinguishers are rated either specifically to fight one type of fire or are rated “multipurpose” for all three types.

Example of a multipurpose fire extinguisher showing ABC rating. Note the dial at top that indicates the amount of pressure remaining

Example of a multipurpose fire extinguisher showing ABC rating. Note the dial at top that indicates the amount of pressure remaining

Multipurpose fire extinguishers are best for use in the studio because they work on any type of fire that may occur, including solvent, grease or wax. You can purchase them at your local home improvement store or online, from Amazon, for example, for $20 to $50 depending on size. 

 

How to choose a fire extinguisher

You should buy the largest fire extinguisher that you are comfortable using and that is within your budget. The larger the extinguisher, the more time and chemicals you will have on your side for fighting fires. Once the extinguisher has been used, it should be disposed of and you should purchase a new one. You will also need to purchase a new one when the dial on the extinguisher shows that the pressure within has decreased (the needle moves from the green zone to the red zone). It is possible to get a fire extinguisher refilled, but generally if you have an inexpensive one, it is probably not worth doing since it may cost as much as purchasing a new one. You can recycle your old extinguisher as metal waste at a recycling center.

SERIOUS FIRE NOTE: Trying to extinguish a wax fire with water will cause it to explode into the air as the water turns to gas. If you cannot quickly extinguish a small fire in a few seconds by using one of the following items you have set aside for such a purpose a damp rag, a pot lid, a fire blanket, or a fire extinguisher— then call 911. A fire can get out of control in seconds. Call for help and leave the studio.
How do I safely store butane and propane cylinders? And what about solvents?

 

Typical small propane canister

Typical small propane canister

Large propane tank

Large propane tank

The safest practice is to have just one small propane canister in your studio at one time. Any extras should be stored in a garage space or a protected exterior space. Larger refillable propane tanks should be stored outside when not being used as they can leak and cause an explosion. Take care when handling gas cylinders that you don’t damage the nozzles.

Flammable solvents, such as turpentine, should also be kept in minimal amounts and in well-sealed containers. The safest practice is to store them in fire resistant metal cabinets, as shown in the example below. These cabinets offer fire resistance of at least 30 minutes, but are a more expensive investment.

If you do not have a safety cabinet, you should at minimum be sure to store flammable solvents well away from the area where you use your torches. Here is a link to a safety cabinet on Amazon.

To maximize safe storage, you can purchase a flammables safety cabinet for storing your gases and solvents, either directly from an industrial supply company or online from Amazon starting at about $250 for a 17” x 22” x 8” cabinet

To maximize safe storage, you can purchase a flammables safety cabinet for storing your gases and solvents, either directly from an industrial supply company or online from Amazon starting at about $250 for a 17” x 22” x 8” cabinet

What about safe disposal of rags and paper towels with oil, solvent, or pigment stick residue?

Pigment Sticks contain pigment, wax, and linseed oil. The linseed oil is combustible so the rags or paper towels used with pigment sticks as well as oil paint are a fire hazard. They can smolder and combust spontaneously into flames as heat is generated during the drying process.  This is because oils on rags and paper towels do not dry like oil paint (through the evaporation of volatile compounds, also known as solvents, and the hardening of pigment and oil). Linseed oil and similar products dry by oxidation or exposure to air. Combustion occurs when heat from the oxidation process is trapped in a pile of rags or paper towels. Any oily rags or paper towels should be thrown into a closed metal safety can until they can be disposed of properly. A metal safety waste can with a tight lid prevents the rags from exposure to air, thus smothering combustion and containing any potential flames. (If you are interested, here’s a link for more information about how oil paintings dry.)

Link for how oil paintings dry: http://painting.about.com/od/oilpainting/f/how-oil-paint-dries.htm

Metal safety waste can for studio disposal of oily paper towels and rags

Metal safety waste can for studio disposal of oily paper towels and rags

 

The Justrite Safety Can is available from an industrial safety supply company or through Amazon ($50). It has a foot-operated cover so that it’s very easy to use. The can should be kept closed at all times and the waste emptied and taken outside on a daily basis. If you use gloves or any other solvents or oils they should be disposed of in the safety can as well. It might be a good idea to pour some water on the rags and paper towels after bagging them for disposal to cut down on the chances of combustion inside the bag until the trash can be picked up. This safety can is an investment well worth the money to save a studio fire.

Additional Resources

Bernzomatic Butane and Propane Safety

OSHA Fire Extinguisher Types and Usage

The Artist’s Complete Health and Safety Guide by Monona Rossol 

Patricia Dusman, originally from New York City and now living in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, is an artist who works in encaustic and has presented talks on Safety Practices in the Encaustic Studio at two International Encaustic Conferences. She studied printmaking and photography at Bard College, where she obtained a degree in biology.  She also has an MS in Biotechnology from William Paterson University. Patricia’s concern about safety began after she experienced physical reactions from working with darkroom chemicals. Her interest and research led her to writing her senior thesis on the “Possible Mutagenicity of Photographic Darkroom Chemicals.” Later, working professionally in medical labs and doing pharmaceutical research, she trained in all aspects of laboratory and workplace safety.