Tipsy

Philip Taaffe

by Kels

On a fairly recent visit to the city I hit some Chelsea Galleries and there was one artist in particular who caught my attention and has stuck with me ever since. Philip Taaffe. I saw his exhibition at the Gagosian gallery.

The online pictures don’t do the paintings justice. They are much more dimensional and a little less psychedelic up close and personal. The paintings are playfully architectural and graphic. They have layers upon layers of imagery and pattern that changed depending on the distance you were viewing them from. From a distance they are these beautiful abstract images that dance from across the room. As you view them closely they come alive with line and form, subtle color combinations and some recognizable images i.e. a few had oak tree seeds. (I used to call them helicopters when I was a kid because if you threw them up in the air they would spiral down like a helicopter blade.)

Taaffe combines abstract and simple, recognizable images harmoniously as they mingle and converse along the surface of the paper. They are really lovely images and technically amazing.
Taaffe creates these beautiful paintings using a paste paper technique that I was familiar with from my work as a book and paper conservator. You appreciate his work immensely if you’ve ever tried to make paste papers. It’s easy to muck them up. But Taaffe’s images are flooded with color and the artist keeps the colors clean and distinctive. I looked up more of his work online and appreciate him even more once seeing his work retrospectively on his website. http://www.philiptaaffe.info/index.php

Paste papers are made by taking cornstarch, wheatstarch or flour, mixing it with water to make a slurry and then cooking it until it becomes the thickness of a custard. You make different colors by adding pigment such as acrylics or watercolors. Once you make the pastes in a variety of colors you apply the paste to paper using brushes, combs, toothbrushes, anything that will create a pattern or texture. You overlap colors and patterns until you come up with something you like. I’ve made them for some book arts and rehousing projects I’ve worked on. You can make a bunch and have them on hand for whatever you want to use them for, books, wrapping paper, cards, etc.

I hadn’t made past papers in ages so I looked up some recipes online and of course Martha Stewart has one on her website. But I have to mention that in the article it says the person that gave the demo “developed a unique technique for decoration paper called paste papermaking.” I found this odd since bookbinders have been using paste paper making techniques since the 1600’s. I’ve been lucky enough to see some of these early ones first hand and they are truly incredible works. Traditionally they were usually used as the paste down and fly sheets in the front and back of the books. They have a very different character than marbled papers that you also see used in the same manner.

Anyway, I had to include the Martha link just for fun. The artist, Sage, looks like a pretty interesting “guy”.

Here is a link to a more simple and honest recipe if anyone ever wants to try to make paste papers.

They are great fun to make, especially outside on a warm sunny day while having a chilled cocktail. Cheers!

Portrait in Seven Slugs

Last night, ElMarko and I went to UB to see Wynton Marsalis and the Lincoln Center Jazz Orhcestra. They began with three pieces by other composers, but the bulk of the performance consisted of a work by one of their own called “Portrait in Seven Shades.” Ted Nash was inspired by works he’d seen at MoMA in Manhattan and set about to describe the artists musically. His focus varied – for some, he captured their art, for others, he used their life stories – but every one was wildly inventive.

This, naturally, got me thinking about the very same artists. Specifically, I began to wonder what they drank. So, here’s my very own Portrait in Seven Slugs:

Claude Monet surely stuck with French wine, but even then, he leaned to more subtle styles. He enjoyed Muscadet with fresh oysters and Vouvray with strong cheese. When leaning towards red, he went for lighter wines like Beaujolais or St-Nicolas-de-Bourgueil. He always steered clear of clobbering Bordeaux, or any other flavor that conquered others.

Salvador Dali drank gasoline. Or urine.

 Henri Matisse was a bold bugger. He wasn’t shy about enjoying the  buzz as much as he enjoyed his drink. He was all about Bordeaux. A big believer in la vie boheme, he also was the first to pop Champagne corks whenever possible.

Pablo Picasso was fiercely nationalistic. He was also fiercely masculine. He stuck to deep, rich reds from Rioja, at least until he made money. Then, he went with Priorats and never looked back. None of that sissy French crap for him.

Van Gogh was a pretty notorious Absinthe drinker, but I’ll guess that he also dug on Ricard and Pernod. When he was really broke, he hit the cheap gin. That never seemed to work out too well.

Marc Chagall was a man of contradictions; although he enjoyed Burgundies, he also had a soft spot for vodka and slivovitz. He could put on the show of being decidedly French in his palatial decisions, but in secret, he slurped borscht.

Jackson Pollack stuck to good ol’ American bourbon: effective and quick. Fuck wine.