Category: updates

I originally wrote the essay in January of 2025. Later in the year I decided to revisit a number of essays, this one among them. Grateful to see with the distance of time what a curmudgeonly tone I had taken, unfortunate because I take this critique seriously.

…

About a month ago*, I was listening to a podcast about Richard Serra courtesy of David Zwirner which is an excellent and thorough interview by Helen Molesworth of Hal Foster (their “Has Art lost its edge” is a good listen also). Molesworth and Foster’s convo is focused primarily on the latter’s perspectives about Serra as an important late twentieth century artist. So what about the pod made me stew for a month? While I saw Curve in LA last summer and it did blow my mind, there is another bee I have for your bonnets, loves.

Around the 46 minute mark of the pod one of the audience participants (who I’m not able to identify), made a heartfelt acknowledgement of a powerful experience in front of Serra’s work, followed up with an observation that Serra once made a comment about wanting to physically assault them. They then proceeded to assert that Serra’s work embodies “rhetorics of masculinity” because it touches on big, heavy, dark things “that can’t be moved,” which are, in their estimation, “some of the worst aspects of masculinity.”

For her part, Molesworth, who is both female-identifying and feminist, responds brilliantly to a good, tough question about gender. After being thankful for the opportunity to address said toxicity, calling the conflation “easy,” she notes first the “slippage” between the addressed, toxic themes and others which are not that (masculine, and toxic). Next she lays responsibility for what she identifies as the “problematic” aspects of the presentation of Serra’s work with MOMA, specifically because of who they excluded in their elevation of his work**. Around the 51 minute mark she says, roughly, “he was a jerk who made good and important work*”; tldr “its’ both.” In the spirit of holding contradiction, which I’ll credit the speaker with as well, *this. And…

I recently had a touching conversation with my oldest, male child (23 at the time, now going on 25, white, cis, and currently with a heterosexual woman) about the November 2025 election outcome, which saw the US electorate make some choices which many saw, rightfully so, as a right-ward shift in the zeitgeist We were unpacking that fact, since he knew, not surprisingly, several 20-something white men who voted for our orange child-tyrant. I asked him to unpack for me what the culture war looks like for young men and hear that, in my son’s lived experience, the leftist observation that manliness is “the” problem is as culturally prevalent as we’ve all heard everyone from talking heads to our neighbors complain that it is. By his telling, he has heard his whole life that he is part of the group responsible for everything that’s wrong with… everything.

Wow.

I won’t lie that, when initially listening to the podcast referenced above, hearing two intellectuals talk un-self-consciously about how masculinity has inherently bad qualities was hard to hear when the US just chose a sociopath as chief executive. The audience member in fact went so far as to link these “worst aspects of” masculinity and the election. I mean, there it was- the very position that many take and which ostensibly drove a generation of men away from my value set, clearly and explicitly and proudly stated. Toxicity is the cornerstone of Western civilization.

Yes it was partly hard because contending with this should be, for people who look like me, god damn it. The word choices though, OMG… they are. Such. A clear example of what’s driving the cultural gulf. Think about this- there’s no Art world discursive strategy to interrogate the adjectives “heavy” and “dark” and our personal experience of them without perpetuating outdated cultural dominance assigned to “the masculine” and being complicit in… something.

That certainly was not my experience of growing up- IE, this is a new-ish cultural phenomena- and I don’t pretend to understand how it feels to hear that refrain through your formative years. In these moments with my son I was so grateful that in our house we have tried to use the language of Dialectical Behavior Therapy, which emphasizes that two things that appear to conflict- like being a specific man who is empathetic, kind and committed to a better world and being a member of a demographic responsible for so much destruction- can both be true. And, that he has had the resilience to hear his whole adolescence that he’s horrible by default and not internalize it, or react by veering onto the path too many of his twenty-something associates and even friends have followed. I hope I’ve also modeled alternatives to being “toxic.”

There is no rulebook I would would want him to follow though that would allow my son to call behaviors that stem from class-conscious and mental-health appropriate values masculine, let alone feel an emotion like pride about being a man. At least in the way that the left celebrates femininity, or blackness, or queerness, as we should rightfully do- human diversity is a treasure. Would any of us ever countenance uttering a phrase like “the worst aspects of femininity.” It’s histrionic for effect again and be honest, it sounds really fucking dumb right? Yeah.

Look, if our linguistic tools were working you would find me embracing them, and I certainly do understand the broader discourse. Do I think the approach of using catch-all words that are shorthand for values (like “toxic masculinity”) but not a statement of actual values is winning ground in this damnable culture war? Ahem, election. So why lean in then? I want better language, for the sake of the next generation of American men, to talk about our values than “if men wanna be good they have to be more like women.” Plus, I’m not and wasn’t the only person to wave this flag prior to the election.

I want to acknowledge now (and did at the time) that reactions to the dominance of post-structuralist language in the visual arts were having a small Art world moment. “No” I did not and do not like feeling or sounding like a reactionary. I bet more than one of you read Dean Kissik’s Harper article (who is the subject and guest of another Zwirner podcast) and maybe some reactions to the same. Critiques of the challenges of… critique in an Art world where the imperative is alignment with leftist morality is not new though, including at Two Coats (and also elsewhere). While “everyone is too far left!!” is *not* the point I’m making, I do in fact see that I’m (another) white dude over here taking up space and saying “but hold on.” Maybe I should STFU?

Thesis statement; if we can’t paint (pun intended) a vision of the world where people are beautiful and whole by default, why would anyone listen to us? Sure it’s gonna be science fiction.

**Also and, Molesworth’s comment about the neglect by MOMA of creatives like Maren Hassinger resonates for me, as part of my practice is this blog, which I hope amplifies the uncovering so many academics are doing. I feel like making a h/t here to John Yau who turned me and many of you, I hope, on to a number of artists who were asked to forced to “wait by the coat room” such as Ruth and John Pai. I hope my regular readers will believe that I very much want the work of expanding the canon to continue.

Space is on my mind because the artist run organization Tiger Strikes Asteroid (I’m a member of the Greenville group) is christening a brand new amazing gallery space in Greenville, SC tonight with the opening of Creature After Me, curated by fellow TSA member and Rattlesnake Press editor Leah Smolin. Also, there is a new space- Satelite– opening tonight (12/6) in Raleigh. I and many, many other Triangle locals have small works in their inaugural exhibit, Begin Transmission. I hope you’ll come out if you’re in either city!

One of the reasons I’m involved with TSA is to create space. Space is literally the most precious commodity for urban artists. Personally- I think to have space, as an artist, you have to make space. It’s one of the reasons I use this blog (and my IG feed once a month) to promote other artists. I just passed 1,700 posts about other artists this week. Wow. ICYW- I feel like this strategy is working since I’m looking forward to a number of opportunities that have come my way.

Space is going to be important over the next four years in the US. Whether that’s mutual aid networks, support groups or just personal efforts at self care, those of us who find ourselves watching what will no doubt be a major shift in the relationship of the federal government to the citizens of our country with sadness and frustration will, I hope, discover and create meaningful community. I hope you can find some yourself- I’ve never asked for feedback or thoughts before and if the spirit moves drop a comment below to share with all or send me a note whether to uplift or hold me accountable, I’m here for it (Sterling at sterlingbowen dot com). Also, speaking of space- I’ll leave you with below courtesy of Nikita Gill.

I imagine a lot of you are following me on Instagram, for anyone who isn’t or is just popping in for the first time, look for me there as well, please. It is different content from what I publish here, in particular I like to pretend I am the local beat writer, and regularly do fairly extensive posts about the exhibits that I have seen in my local area. Also, for those of you who don’t know where that is, I live in the Triangle area of Central North Carolina. What you have heard is true- it does, in fact, rule.

At the moment, I am spending a lot of my energy looking for another full-time job. Thanks to all of you who have asked about my search when you run into me. Also and, I am privileged and excited to get to work in clean energy and decarbonization!

It’s been great to have my practice to help sustain me during this time. Thanks (also) to those who have made time for studio visits to look at new ideas – I have moved in a new direction with my painting. I could probably have made 100 more paintings utilizing cubes, but not learned any more from it* (and- of course- I have learned so much). While this new body of work is still taking shape, the small piece above, “through”, (which is in the group show “12×12” at Artspacenc atm) is indicative. Yes, it is an homage to Albers, and also to the Light and Space artists. I think it will more clearly point audiences at looking, by being more directly about color. I hope it will allow me to more successfully foreground contradictions, and engage audiences in thinking about the many places in our life where holding two truths at the same time can be crucial for us moving “through.”

I am looking forward to a number of things as well ( did I mention my practice is sustaining me?). *I will get to put a “period” on a body of work that sustained me for 7 years next summer. Also and, I will be getting the chance to do some more curating in 2025, both of which will be group shows and located locally. The artists that have said yes to working with me are fantastic creators, and I can’t wait for all of us to share our vision with you. And in case you thought I couldn’t possibly be any more vague, I will be programming something with Tiger Strikes Asteroid in Greenville, South Carolina in the September-October timeframe. I will also have a piece in a show in Texas in December for anyone in Austin. More details to come – the kids call this a teaser, I think. Hope you’re looking forward to looking at the shows!

I definitely grew up getting a lot of input in the form of science fiction, whether that meant Buck Rogers and Star Trek re-runs on TV, ET in the theater or gobs and gobs of Star Trek-based novellas from the library in my pre-teen years. I did venture beyond this realm in my adult years and I’m not going to trot out my sci-fi-nerd credentials because I’m certain many of my readers could best me wink emoji. What’s my point (not more nostalgia although hit that link for just a sec speaking of Buck Rogers…)? I grew up optimistic that there would be a future. And, I think I still am, or at least not convinced it’s impossible (for there to be a future).

Early this week one of two pieces which inspired words from me came across my feed (my muse was also a self-imposed deadline). It was mostly a review of Neptune Frost—a project from American multidisciplinary artist and musician Saul Williams and Rwandan filmmaker Anisia Uzeyman— on Artforum by Ruby Helot that briefly poked out from behind the paywall (good luck with that) . According to Ruby the movie succeeds where it severs the link between the extractive violence of postcolonial industry and the past and our present, allowing for a new future to come into focus. I mean, not utopia, maybe but, not dystopia. Ms Helot spends some time on dystopia, even pointing back at a prior Artforum article about our appetite for the same. I’ll note that I complained to some other nerds (I get why that’s funny) about the narrow range #strawmanargument of what was offered as exemplar of science fiction. tldr; the synopsis of the canon was limited to space opera-style good v evil round 2 million stuff. Despite dogging a lot of seminal movies for me and generally being an art world snob about people’s appetite for dystopia (something about pots and kettles) I really, really love her general point that “Yes!” we would all love to see a vision of a different, equitable future.

The other piece is (one of) Kate Thompson’s posts from her Daily Sticky about asking for what you want, and avoiding talking about what you don’t want, in order to get what you want (stay positive). First things first you must all read everything Kate writes. Second, I’m sure part of the reason the message that the positioning and attitude that lead to success are positive really jumped for me is because I’m in sales, and gosh that’s just sort of basic.

While Kate’s message is not the same message as Ruby’s, I got the sense that Ms Thelot would like that Ms Thompson is asking us to consider that the message that resonates the most is likely to be the one saying what we want, because, we want something, something better.

I read these pieces in our current social context, which is one where many feel lead to proclaim, online and publicly, that if we aren’t talking about what isn’t right then we aren’t paying attention, right? I’ve been wondering about that message, which is every where in my social media feed, because the world does in fact appear to be in danger. And, “yes,” many of the decisions made by those in power do not align with my values either. And, what role can any of us as artists have in presenting a picture what we want. “Yes,” it will be a fiction- possibly even science fiction.

This is certainly a well worn topic of discussion among creatives. Definitely one of the main reasons my awareness of it is raised this week is the opening of the exhibit Open Source, an exhibit which I curated, at Wilma Daniels gallery in Wilmington, NC. Central to the show is the idea that not only the literal material of the work but also its content can have a multitude of sources. I would say my relationships with the artists are source material for me as well.

A number of you have asked about the object making part of my practice recently (we all do this- “watcha workin’ on?”) and my answer has been “material studies.” Which is to say there are new-ish sources at play (yeah I am using that noun on purpose). I feel a pull from the material itself to highlight their more physical qualities more (glass, wood, non-canvas surfaces, even paint is now more obviously dimensional and plastic) while composition becomes more optical (simplified compositions focused on color and in many cases leveraging light as a “material”). Which isn’t intellectual or even really an idea, it’s an impulse.

I noted this direction in an Instagram post this weekend where I pointed to a loose tie between a recent study, a book about Clyfford and a couple of photos.

An Instagram post by Nick Aguayo also really resonated for me. (I think) he notes the source of work can actually be a somewhat mysterious to (even) the artist, that its general direction can trusted- its “point” doesn’t have to be that all aspects are formed and understood:

“I am deeply interested in color and experimenting with it, but I think that the deeper concern of the work is a matter of structure and meditating on how the making of something in itself can carry a certain energy and attitude towards looking at the world.”

So for now I’ll continue to accept many inputs and trust my fascination with materials as one of the same.

What a triggering title, I’m sure, for many readers, especially those that went to Art school (or, like myself, Architecture school, where in my first critique a professor literally asked “whose Mongolian cluster fuck is this” about a model that had taken me 20+ hours over a couple of days). So I thought we’d start with a little haha- literally. everyone. who went to art school has been in a situation like the one Terry Zwigoff brings us in the vignette above (based on Daniel Clowe’s comic and screenplay) .

The topic is on my mind for several reasons. One is recent feedback I’ve gotten on some exhibition proposals. First and foremost I find* myself grateful to actually get feedback- those of you reading who submit a lot of proposals know how rare it is to find out why your submission wasn’t at the top of the stack. And while I could, but won’t, lie that reading “this aspect was thin” or “explain better how it actually does that” *raised defensive hackles at first (any abstractionist reading this knows about critique that is actually leveled at the modality and not your work in any specific way), once I noticed myself having those thoughts, I was able to realize I could have *much* better answers. This was an opportunity to grow and improve- how wonderful, and, again, lucky for me to be given the prompt to do so.

I have to give a shout-out to Adam Grant. My boss at the old day job gave us all a copy of Hidden Potential for a holiday gift and I just got around to picking it up recently. Don’t let the source or the endorsements scare you off- the ;tldr is that we can all learn to be better learners. You don’t have to pick it up because you want to be a CEO or the next MVP of the WNBA yourself.

One of the other reasons I have “critique” centered in my consciousness this week is the recent passing of Jeremy Gilbert Rolfe, a painter that I’ve always admired who also had an amazing facility with words. Whenever I think of him I’m reminded of his visit to the University of Houston when I was in grad school there- it was easily the best critique I had in terms of the attention he paid to what I was doing as an abstractionist. Perhaps not surprising? Again, those with Art school PTSD know that too many established artists (and under-appreciated profs…) love emotionally abusing 18-24 year olds. As far of the value of the feedback goes, I believe that while it’s valuable to get (and give) feedback from sources that lean in different directions from your practice, a kindred spirit will just see things that others don’t. Facts. So, find your tribe and nurture those relationships! Seriously- the best feedback I got about the proposal *and* the response to the same came from one such relationship that has become one of the most important to me and to my practice (you know who you are, I love you my friend).

FWIW I try to make critique a part of my practice, both by having a regularly scheduled meet-up with a consistent group (the thread of years of seeing each other’s work change over time and having visibility into the genesis of the same is a *powerful* tool for critique) and also by teaching.

BTW, for those of you that are local to the Triangle, you might be aware that I’ve been making a point this year of giving and asking for studio visits, or just meet-ups for a beverage. If we haven’t connected yet, let’s make it happen. And if I’ve promised you we would and haven’t followed through, thanks for your patience!

I was part of an artist talk this weekend where I reflected on and took questions about one of the pieces from my new homage series. I don’t mind talking, it’s part of my day job actually. And it also got me thinking about the role of “the discourse” and spoken and written forays into the same by creatives (that’s a good link fwiw).

The moment I decided to decide on some words about words was upon reading a social media post after the talk by a friend who questioned what the Art world would look like in the absence of the artist statement phenomena which according to Wikipedia is relatively recent. Statements and talks are not the same thing and also yes they are, intertwined at the least (the chicken in the egg).

Seems like to answer the question posed (what would change about the Art world if International Art English disappeared- link is a pdf btw), one should unpack what purpose artist statements serve. I argued, prior to reading the wiki actually, they derive from the relationship of Art to academia*, that their purpose is to point the viewer towards the artists’ intended relationship to Art history. Specifically I argued (to no one in particular and also literally) that the challenge is postmodernism is not actually an “ism.” Said differently, we don’t have the type of shorthand in the visual arts that, say, musicians have, where one might declare “it’s not boom bap, it’s trap music” that would be the best candidate for a stand in.

I’d also suggest nothing perpetuates this part of the experience of taking in Art more than artists ourselves who. Are. Always. asking each other what our work is about.

*The very existence of the arts in the academic Ivory tower is, of course and not surprisingly, the reason the majority of opines on said post’s resulting thread were approximately “everyone is entitled to an opinion with or without academic credentials” (a very American, individualist viewpoint). I’m not sure I agree all opinions are informed with equal rigor and substance even if “we all have our opinions” is the dumbest hill to die on ever. Even with my quip about music categories considered one should probably recognize that people still have words about music they love (thank you Pitchfork, Okayplaya, Stereogum at el), because good Art inspires the same.

Do I think the visual Arts are better with or without statements? I’d say they are here to stay and if that isn’t what motivates you to view Art thanks for showing up for whatever reason motivates you, especially to Artist talks.

Tom Nichols, writer for the Atlantic, is as a child of the 1960s, and he says in a recent newsletter article titled “The Lies Nostalgia Tells Us“* that “those days weren’t better—but in one way, they were sweeter.” *There is a pay wall for this link to the article (unless you’re a subscriber), but if you are an Apple News subscriber, this link will open it for you. I find Tom interesting (I am a more-left-than-center progressive, yes I made that up) because he is as far to the right as I can handle, frankly. Something about perspective. Also he absolutely rails on MAGA world which, given his facility with writing, is delish. Anyway, about this recent newsletter on the topic of nostalgia. tldr; he explains what he means by talking about childhood memories that are sweet. As a child of the 1980s, I get that- it’s a sort of un-complicated-ness (because childhood, duh).

I was reminded when reading that word- nostalgia- of a blog I wrote almost a year ago about the topic of color. I also touched on the idea of nostalgia in that piece (pin) because I was beginning to explore an interest in the parallels between the cultural moment of the 2020s and late modernism (which I developed a little more at the end of that year). To summarize, I teach my students that Modernism can generally be understood as a reaction to Classicism, and a belief that a re-imagining of human culture was necessary and imminent. Very simplified of course. On to that pin = the specific reference to nostalgia was this Jonathan Stevenson essay at Two Coats in which he discusses how nostalgia that’s basic (yes I mean it that way) romanticism is the “dumb” variety. Not the same message as Tom and also parallel.

Yes I got to “and”! It just comes up all the time. “Yes” Tom and I have tender memories of childhood, and, it’s a lie to believe that time in our history was better. Same thing for Modernism- yes it was necessary change and the idea of universal human worth is great, and… it sure wasn’t a clean break from misogyny, racism and classism either.

Also, I gotta say, it’s pretty wild to read that I wrote, basically, “hey our situation today is sort of like the Modernists in that nothing about the old way of doing things works anymore” a year ago and wonder at how different things are in the US and the world one year later. Wow.

The ground I’m covering lately, with the new, square paintings on glass is somewhat familiar.

After taking a break from grad school in 2000, I began to make sketches in MS Paint that eventually turned into paintings. At the time these were a reaction to what I saw as an over-seriousness about being cool (a contradiction yes and at the time one I was not ready to receive) which I felt was a prominent theme among the abstractionists that were getting lots of shine in Houston and nationally at the time (my artists statement was, roughly, “yeah, video games and Saturday morning cartoons baby!”).

While my newer work intends to have a more direct line to Albers, as I’ve written, the earlier work above was a nod in the direction of Richard Anuskiewicz (for whom the former was a mentor). Both shared a quite well established interest in color theory, and also in perception. In addition to this relationship between bodies of work, I also hope to soon be in need* of a different strategy for production in my practice that looks more like this earlier body of work, which mirrored Richard’s approach to making (heavy emphasis on planning to make production easier in the sense of being straightforward). Organizing my work flow into “bites” that I can chomp off as time allows will be necessary. There will be time for free-form creativity.

*More to come, suffice to say, life is in flux. Also, I am grateful to have this be the challenge I need to solve (verses so many others which could be my lot).

This isn’t going to become a lesson in epistemology, I’m not that smart or well read.

Today, I caught an excerpt of a Sam Gilliam (RIP) interview that Hyperallergic reposted on their IG feed (youtube.com/watch). The full interview is available on Louisiana Channel (along with a lot of other good ones by a range of artists). The truth nuggets, paraphrased, are that a) abstract painting can be political because it asserts by its existence that there are things which we might not understand and that b) just recognizing something isn’t tantamount to understanding.

I also really got a lot from an Artforum interview with Jordan Nasser (FYI, there may be a pay wall, depending on how many free articles you’ve viewed this month) about the contradictions (hey-oh) of diasporic identity, the nuances of his relation to traditional craftmaking, and the role of artists in continuing cultural legacies. There’s an effort in Nassar’s practice to create understanding as well, I think of a similar kind to what Sam probably envisioned. I think they both refer not to “understanding” the noun which is the ability to perceive intended meaning in a specific way (so, decipher or interpret); instead they intend us to think about understanding the adjective– “sympathetically aware of other people’s feelings; tolerant.”

BTW, “yes” I do definitively think it is important right now for many more of us to make an effort to understand the lived reality of the peoples of the Palestinian state, not just over the last 6 months, and, certainly because of that context (and in general, to reconsider the tenants of Modernism and the idea of shared humanity).

PS, if you want to expand your understanding of other cultures by doing something here, locally, in the Triangle, go check out To Take Shape and Meaning.

Those of you from the Southeast are no doubt familiar with the Art periodical Art Papers. Their newest is guest edited by Michael Jones McKennan who penned a tight little essay outlining the context of the issue’s theme, “Reworlding.” Michael caught my eye as he began recounting the experience of light vis’a’vis the recent solar eclipse. After contextualizing the sheer awe he felt in the face of this celestial event within ever-accelerating globalism, and all it has wrought upon our planet, he asks this question- “What might this have to do with art? Artists? I would argue, just about everything.“

This is a question that has been on my mind for a while, and in particular of late after a wonderful bike ride on my City’s greenway* with Jean Gray Mohs as we traveled to a meeting of the Discourse and Dialogue group. The question was different, and, paraphrased, was “what do Artists have an obligation to say or do in relation to society?”

My answer is this- Artists don’t have an obligation to engage with the world we live in by default. If a person can be said to have an obligation (and I’ve written recently, I have some of the feelings about the idea of obligation), I feel it derives from our shared humanity. IE, it does not derive from our facility with our hands or our connections to a fairly elitist ecosystem operated to secure the desirable objects of our present cultural moment (granted, access to the same is a motivation for many to use it as a vehicle, which seems fair play to me). Michaels’s answer is much the same and more eloquent- “The process of considering the macro reality that our bodies are cast within is part of an ancient story; an arc as old as humankind that artists have been the de facto fablers of. World is a primary protein of an artist’s diet.” This reminds me of a quote by painter William T. Williams “My art is about my experience which, by nature, makes it about other people’s experience . . . I’m trying to evoke human response. My demographic is the human arena.” Every one of us is a human first, before we invest our energy in remarking upon this confusing, amazing, often rewarding, occasionally damaging and hopefully enlightening journey called life.

To say that we have have a duty as creatives to critique a world from which we cannot extract ourselves is an odd hypothesis from which to start. I try to embrace the construct of poststructuralist thinking because of my values, yes. Having grown up in an evangelical household with near constant purity tests that required always saying the right words, finding the line between true intellectual rigor and turning the crank on a propaganda apparatus is part of my journey. Approaching the role of artist with devotion does mean attempting to look at oneself from some… sort of… position outside of ourselves- odd, right? Avoiding virtue signaling (yes, I’m sort of doing it now) and honoring the obligations of privilege with service (which is a position allowed by privilege), blah blah blah something about rivers and crying and tiny violins #firstworldproblems. All of which leads me to the thesis that, to love the potential of this world and hold us accountable to ourselves, and to earnestly strive to draw others into community or at least understanding… feels like a different point of origin to me than “artists have an obligation to speak out.” My… gut feeling is, it is one that allows all people to journey this path, and for the broadest range of values which consider and esteem shared humanity to participate in this- the– conversation.

*BTW, Raleigh Greenway regulars be sure to swing by the Walnut Creek educational center and see Derrick Beasley’s recently installed sculpture.

Regular readers will know that I use a lot of single-word titles, and there’s a vin diagram where this group (yes, you guys) significantly overlaps with at least familiarity if not overt interest in or attention paid to Casualism in Art. It’s pretty much a label for a tendency among painters, but again, you probably knew that. The Wikipedia article on the same is succinct if you need to get up to speed (and has a ton of links btw).

It’s a term I’ve only become familiar with shortly before writing this blog, as this critical idea emerged originally while I was away from the discourse earlier in the 2000s. Having noted a colleague reference it recently, and reading below, well…

(from Wiki) “The term Casualism was coined in a 2011 essay which defined a new type of postminimalist painting that features a self-amused, anti-heroic style with an interest in off-kilter composition and impermanence. These artists are interested in a studied, passive-aggressive irresoluteness that reflects wider insights about culture and society.”

Given that I’ve described my practice as seriously un-serious, I have an entire project dedicated to impermanence, I embrace automatic drawing (a form of anti-heroism where an author relinquishes at minimum the direction or beginning of authorship), and central to my practice is the notion that two or more things can both be true at the same time, it sure sounds like if there ever was an “ism” to which I adhere…

“Yes,” there are creatives that have been featured on this blog which are also on Sharon‘s original list of Casualists (Cordy, Keltie, Chris, Rebecca and others). Also nice to understand a bit more deeply why I am so attracted to the cohort of writers Sharon has pulled together over at Two Coats of Paint.