Figure Drawing Show: February 25th, 2011

Last night, we hosted an exhibition of figure drawing for the talented artists who attend our workshops here at Studio 1021. Their work looked AMAZING, and the reception was a blast. What a fun night!

"One Floor Up More Highly" by Katharina Grosse

I had to share these images of Katharina Grosse’s spectacular installation that is making me whine about living so far from the East Coast. Grosse’s “One Floor Up More Highly” at the MASS MoCA juxtaposes stark-white, glacial forms with raw, rich and energetic colors on a scale that dwarfs the viewer. From the exhibition images, it looks like visitors are wandering through a Technicolor, punk-rock version of Superman’s Fortress of Solitude. And who wouldn’t want to do that?




Click here to see more images from "One Floor Up Highly."

A Short Worth Watching: "Idiot with a Tripod" (a.k.a. "Man in a Blizzard")

Great rhythm, imagery, humor, technical expertise, and even a plot line compacted into this short taken during a New York blizzard on Dec. 26th. Even getting Oscar buzz. It reminds me of silent movies and Citizen Cane. I especially love the transition from black-and-white to color and back again.

WATCH: "Idiot with a Tripod"

"You’re So Dada, Baby, and You Don’t Even Know It": This Week in Censorship

If there’s anything I’ve learned as an art historian, it is that the question, “Is it art or not?” is boring. The REAL question is, “Is it good or not?”

Recently, there have been a couple examples of society negating both questions by asking, “Is it possibly offensive to anyone?” and quickly answering its own question with a resounding, “YES! So-take-it-down-for-the-love-of-god-already!”

This week’s Exhibit A: The Smithsonian bows to conservative pressure and removes a controversial artwork by David Wojnarowicz, A Fire in My Belly (1986-87). The video piece is a montage of scenes that juxtapose conservative religious themes and the suffering of people with AIDS/HIV, and it serves as a biting criticism of the Roman Catholic Church’s stance on those issues. Watch A Fire in My Belly on Youtube by clicking here, signing a waiver, and publicly admitting guilt for any crimes you will definitely, absolutely commit after watching this video.


This week’s Exhibit B: The LA MOCA whitewashes its own vaguely politically-charged mural by Blu, a renowned street artist who was part of the exhibition meant to honor subversive street artists. Click here to see the almost-interesting mural that LA MOCA deemed too interesting to be seen by the public eye.

There is a fundamental hypocrisy in our society: pining for cutting-edge art while silencing any artistic voice that doesn’t fall neatly into one’s adopted belief system.


Flashback 93 years: Dada artist Marcel Duchamp [friend and supporter of studio 1021*] submitted this work, Fountain (above, photographed by Alfred Steiglitz), to The Society of Independent Artists. It is a urinal turned at a 90-degree angle and signed with a pseudonym, and it was submitted to a show that stated all works would be accepted. The work was not accepted or exhibited.

The irony? Duchamp was a board member of The Society of Independent Artists, but he resigned after proving that the exhibit was not really “open” after all. After that, Duchamp's oeuvre has been legendary for his contribution to the Dada movement, which is characterized as an anti-art movement because of its challenges to preconceived notions of art.


Have we learned nothing about censorship in the last century?

* Not true at all. Unless you are not smart enough to realize that he’s been dead for 42 years. Then, yes, totally, Marcel Duchamp is an avid fan of studio 1021.

Last image: David Wojnarowicz’s Arthur Rimbaud in New York (Duchamp) (1978–79/2004).

Synchronicity in Art Gives a Snapshot of Life

Recently, I’ve come across the work of two artists who are juxtaposing images in a way that makes the viewer think about the concept of time. Even though I don’t own a watch (evidenced by my chronic tardiness) and have never really understood “Time” as a man-made concept (evidenced by my lack of mastery of Daylight Savings Time), I love thinking about what has taken place at a particular spot over the course of history. Who lived in my house when it was first built in 1937? What did they do, what did they argue about, what did they want out of life?

Jo Teeuwisse, a historical consultant in Amsterdam, explored her curiosity about her city’s past after finding World War II era negatives at a flea market. She found the location of the images and layered them over her own recent photographs. Click here to see more images and read an interview with Teeuwisse about her work.




From a contemporary perspective, artist Erin Cooney sought to capture one minute of life from people across the globe in her Simultania Project. Cooney states, “The Simultania Project is about having people from all over the world film and record sound during the same 1-minute-moment in time on Saturday, November 13, and then assembling the resulting footage into a video installation that plays back all the simultaneous perspectives together and in sync.” I especially like the soundscape Cooney complied from the video submissions. Click here to see the project.

Touching Strangers: Awkwardness or Awesomeness?

Photographer Richard Renaldi is exploring human connections and separation in his photography. Basically, he asks two complete strangers if they would be willing to touch each other and pose for a photograph while doing so. Awkward? Especially here in the LA area, most have limited interaction with people they don't know, because we're often in our cars. How would you react if asked to touch a complete stranger for a photo? Renaldi has come up with some great juxtapositions that instantly make you want to know more about his subjects. Read more about Renaldi in Brad Horn's story for NPR: http://www.npr.org/blogs/pictureshow/2010/11/01/130974145/touching-strangers

clay: musings about the dirty stuff that blows my mind

Since I don’t mind getting a little dirty, ceramics is the perfect art form for me. I don’t mind being covered from head to toe with splatters of clay. This is often literally the case. When leaving my studio to get a drink from the kitchen, there's a trail of powdered footprints leading to a goop-daubed coffee mug, which is held by my dry, clay-caked hand (FYI, this is in stark contrast to Patrick’s meticulous painting practices).

This raw, dirty quality is part of the primordial appeal of working with clay. Its tactile qualities attract kids, amateur hobbyists, fine artists, and people from all other walks of life. Who hasn’t held a malleable ball of clay in their hands and not wanted to make something out of it? We’ve all rolled a lump of clay into a coil and pretended it was a snake (ok, maybe it was Play-doh, but the impulse remains the same). Perhaps it’s a primordial urge to mold vessels like our ancestors made for thousands of years. Perhaps it is a way to reconnect with the earth. Or, maybe it’s just fun.

It’s easy.

It lacks the pretentious restrictions of “high-art” media. Clay is a medium for self-expression that seems to come naturally to everyone, and that is where I find the excitement in it. People are creative beings by nature, and ceramics are an accessible path to expressing that creativity. Who knows what people will create next? What will you create next?

Throughout years of working with clay, I've developed a personal philosophy inspired by its qualities: a loose metaphor for life. Clay is from the earth, and, ultimately, returns to the earth. It can be shaped into infinite forms, but just add water and it returns to its basic state. It will reveal any texture you press into it like a written history. If there is a flaw that is masked while building a piece, it will eventually reveal itself in the final product. It is strong enough to stretch to delicate lengths. However, it has limits and will break, slump, or crumble when pushed beyond them. But, even if that flaw rears its ugly head or the beautiful masterpiece becomes a hideous eyesore, just add water, and start over. Its a lump of clay again, ready to be something new.

In my work, I am deeply influenced by forms in nature. Even when I'm not thinking about it, organic forms take shape; it is just part of my artistic voice. I'm not a fan of rigidity or straight lines, as they so rarely occur in nature.


(All images above are the intellectual property of Sonia Farrand)



Below: a few of my favorite artists with whom I feel an aesthetic affinity

Antoni Gaudi























Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec



























Steven Hill
































Salvador Dali