timnyberg

I posted this short piece about naming my paintings on my web site about three years ago - before I trashed and redid the "news" page - I thought this was worth posting somewhere, so here it is.

creating and naming the paintings

When I paint, sometimes I have a subject matter in mind, sometimes they just appear as the painting materializes. In this case, the later was true. This painting was a paint-over of another piece - something I do often as an evolving artist.I love seeing a history to the canvas and purposely let old colors and textures live on in the new painting. Upon turning the canvas during the painting process it resembled a profile of a human head.

The profile reminded me of the 1952 Anacin commercial (no, I'm not quite that old, apparently they ran it for a while) with the banging hammers. I mistakenly thought it was Bayer when I named the piece. But the errant title actually had a deeper meaning for me. While on the train ride from Düsseldorf to Köln, Germany, we passed by the Bayer headquarters and our escort apologetically revealed that the nerve gas used in the concentration camps was manufactured by Bayer. The image reminded me of the Anacin commercial, but was foreboding and/or disturbing enough to work with the Bayer reference as well.

But, sometimes, the images are just simple and playful with no deep meaning. They don't necessarily bring to mind anything immediately, I have to stare at them for a while.

The painting on the left, "Smilin' Dave's Refrigerator," was so named because it reminded me of the art of a college painting instructor, Dave Johnson, who was always smiling. During Dave's first show at my college, we were struck by the retro refrigerator shapes in all of his paintings and thought it would be a good idea to place a 1950's refrigerator into the show (complete with a "Refrigerator, mixed media, NFS" title next to it). The department chair didn't think much of our prank, but Dave kept smilin' just the same.

Some paintings are cathartic, working out the angst of everyday life. One such painting is "Bush and Cheney Arrive in Hell" (below left). Not surprisingly, this is a title that gets a lot of comments from gallery visitors and usually primes the pump for conversation (or contention*). While painting, I was filled with frustration about the direction our country has taken under the Bush administration - coupled the disturbing thought that our tax money has been used for complicity in killing of well over 100,000 of God's children - so, I named the piece appropriately. It helped a llittle bit (*although I did lose a sale to an 80-something Republican who saw the title, took offense, and told me he "knew EXACTLY the kind of person I was!"). 

I guess this reflects life. Sometimes things that plop in front of us are meaningful, deep and worthy of extra thought. And other times they're just a funny little blip that's meant to entertain us and not really meant for anything but pure enjoyment. You'll find both extremes in my art.
- Tim
 

This diptych (two panel painting) is a nod to those Betsy McCall paper doll figures from the 1950s it's called, "Betsy McCall - epilogue" - and I present it with this short explanation and a smile:

Until I was five years old, I was the only kid - both in my family, and in the neighborhood. I spent most of my waking hours with my mom and/or grandma (dad and grandpa were at work). I remember going to the grocery store with them, hanging out at my grandparent's house and busying myself with little creative projects - drawing, creating little towns with boxes, cardboard, crayons, pens... and when my grandpa was home from work, I'd make stuff out of wood in his workshop.

Grandma raised three girls, so she was not that adept at giving a young boy "guy appropriate" activities. One thing she did was to save the Betsy McCall paper doll page from the monthly McCall's magazine for me. Not having any frame of reference that this was not "cool" for a boy to do, I'd look forward to the monthly paper dolls and their new outfits. I'd cut out the paper dolls dresses, and dressed the paper dolls - folding the little tabs on the edges of the clothing around the doll's body (which I had glued onto cardboard to stiffen the doll figure).

In retrospect, what this potentially embarrassing activity did for me developmentally was to give me an appreciation for print media. I learned that the printed page could be transformed into a toy. I was learning about illustration, marketing, advertising, paper "engineering" and creativity.

So, thanks, Grandma Allie.  I know you loved me tremendously and the activities that you provided, although a bit odd for a boy, really helped develop my creativity and provided the basics of a life-long career.

 

Since my illustrator days (which started in the mid 1970s) I've always worked in the genre of a humorous and whimsical illustrator. Not a cartoonist per se, just a whimsical style - which sometimes looks "cartoony". When I started painting in 2005, a natural course for my paintings to take was one of whimsy.  It was comfortable, familiar territory that allowed me to explore the medium of painting without the distraction of thinking too hard about style and subject matter.

So, as you look through my online gallery (g42art.com) you will see a lot of humor coming through - most obviously in the "faces gallery", but also in the other objective art. You'll even see some notes of whimsy in the abstracts and non-objective pieces. Most of my paintings bring smiles to the gallery visitors. Sure, there are more serious, even sullen, paintings (most of which directly affect my mood while painting). But the term "FUN ART" best describes my work as a "fine artist" (a term used to differentiate from my other life as a "commercial artist").

Is there a place for this sort of painting in peoples' homes and offices? Absolutely! Sales of my original paintings and prints have been surprisingly good - enough so to keep me motivated to continue creating humorous / FUN art. Now, some of my whimsical objective artworks (such as the Bistro Beverages series) are being licensed for use on retail products - like coasters, napkins, apparel and mass-market prints.

Blending Interests

Recently, my other job - improvisational comedian (see DuctTapeGuys.com and JuneAmerica.com for example) has worked its way into my painting career with the introduction of Jön Jinkelheimer and "Painting with Jön" - a parody of an educational television painting instructor who gets a little (sometimes a lot) tipsy during his "televised" art lessons. While actual painting techniques are being taught (and I use the term loosely), the prime objective of Jön is that of entertainment.

Jön possesses a pretentious air stereotypical of those in high-society art circles, but with a hapless, pathetic quality that makes him nauseatingly funny. Each episode is totally improvised on the spot with the camera rolling. Each creates both a painting and sometimes a story about the subject matter (as in the "Old Grandad Portrait" episode for instance).

The series for me is an enjoyable exercise in improvisation and a chance to paint in the style of a totally different person (call me Sybil). It also presents the challenge of editing down nearly an hour of video to a video of tolerable length (six minutes for the short versions and around 13 minutes for the full "lessons"). My desire is to create videos that will make people laugh and/or provide them opportunity for some healthy eye rolls.

I have no idea what will become of Jön Jinkelheimer. I'm thinking it may make a good stand-up act for an art groups. What intrigues me about the concept is its ability to blend the art of painting with performance art. Stay tuned to see what happens.
- Tim

"It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child." - Pablo Picasso

I love kids' art. So fresh, so imaginative, so free. Recently I came across an exhibit of preschoolers' art at the Kohler Art Center in Sheboygan, Wisconsin (great bathrooms by the way - google and oogle them). I snapped a few photos of my favorites with the intent of reproducing them in acrylic on canvas. I had done this previously with the gold-framed "As a Child" (left). It's based on a kindergarten self-portrait hanging on the wall of a graduating high school student.

As artists we are encouraged to "study the masters." I've done this with Modigliani and a few others, and found it helpful in discovering how they constructed their compositions and worked with their materials. But the practice of replicating children's art has given me more than that. It's taught me how to discover and represent the essence of an object without regard to laboring over it looking like a true representation.

We're encouraged to learn from "the Masters" and I would submit that who better a master than those so freshly arrived from the Creator.

I've posted my children's art studies at this link on my g42art.com site. Including my own rendition of my own preschool self-portrait "YMMIT". (I used to spell my name backwards - even though it appears I was making progress in the letter arrangement by this point.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank God the only constant is change.

 I'm now primarily in the paint-over stage of my painting career. I've been painting for about five years now (after being an illustrator and graphic artist for 35+ years). You can see from the two paintings above how my style has changed from early - rigid, almost cartoon-like simplicity, to a more painterly and spontaneous style.

It's always a bit frightening to start the paint-over process - never knowing if you are going to ruin a perfectly good piece. (I usually don't paint over stuff that I still like - even though the style of painting has changed - and often, a painting that is in queue will be requested for purchase, so there's that risk as well.) you just have to load up your brush with paint and have at it.

Sometimes I totally paint over the subject matter and have the underpainting add dimension, color and texture to the new painting. Sometimes (as in the case above) I try to remain true to the subject and theme.

What's changed for me during the past five years is a familiarity with the way the paint, the brush, and the surface interact. I know what pressure on the brush creates what line and texture; What a little graphite (pencil) will do to add interest and visual interest; And, what a little spritz of Windex (or similar cleaning product) and a quick wipe at various stages of paint dryness will do to smear and pit the paint.

Like learning to touch-type - you eventually don't think about your fingers, they just do what your brain is thinking. I suppose it's the same for a piano player who no longer has to look at his/her hands and is free to improvise - the hands and keyboard becoming an extension of their mind in creating the art of music. In the case of painting or drawing, one isn't preoccupied with thinking about the tools or mediums used to create the images - you unconsciously switch on autopilot - and therefore are more free to create.

In any case, the process of "destroying" and then recreating is quite rewarding. When a painting improves, or becomes an entirely different statement, the risk of obliterating and reworking was worthwhile.

You can see other recent works by clicking to g42art.com/recent

Thanks for your support. - Tim

Paint it again, Sam. [Don't call me Sam. My name is Tim.] Paint-overs. I love doing paint-overs. This is where I take an old painting - that I like but have progressed in style enough that I'm not comfortable with the painting any longer. Doing a paint-over brings my current sensibilities into the painting. And, in my estimation, the painting is always better for the effort. 

Worst case scenario: the new painting doesn't quite make it - so I use the canvas for an entirely new painting. The underlying painting is always allowed to "peek through" the new painting - which adds to its interest and enriches the new piece.

Creating art is no time for timidity. If you hesitate to alter/rebuild your creation, you are missing a vital, and often extremely rewarding, part of the creative process.

To see some examples of Paint-Overs or "Extreme Make-Overs" as I once called them(some of which are certainly ready for the process once again), click here. By the way, some of these Make-Overs have also been redone since their original postings.

Greetings! Here's a video of my painting to jazz at Lawrence University (Appleton, WI) last monday night during the jazz ensemble recital.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Co-EDhgQew

The entire painting time - was the duration of the piece, 7.5 minutes. I took another half hour to tweak it back at the gallery.
I did two paintings that evening - you can see the other ("R and B") here: http://g42art.com/recent

I love jazz. Painting on stage with during performance is a cool way of being part of the ensemble without being able to play an instrument. Plus, it's a fun and challenging creative exercise - audiences love watching the improvisation process.

- Tim

Whenever I create a painting, I develop thoughts about what's appearing on the canvas. Sometimes it's a story. Sometimes a 'deep' philosophical thought. Sometimes the work is meant to amuse. Sometimes it is a search for meaning. But, ultimately, as the Rod Stewart song promises, 'Every pictures tells a story…'."

My wife, Julie, is a teacher who spent most of her career working with gifted students. Her students often worked with "story starters" - images that were used as a springboard for brainstorming and creative writing exercises. When I stumbled upon sets of one-inch tall human figures (usually used for model railroad layouts), I thought to use them in a series of provocative paintings that would act as story starters.

The finished paintings are available for viewing at Gallery 42 (and online). Writers were asked to create a story or poem based on the numbered paintings (I purposely left off the titles so as to not influence the writers). Most of the stories came from a local high school where the English teacher used the "Story Starters" as a creative writing assignment. The student's stories (as well as a few of my own - even some from my mom), are now posted beneath the online gallery. The opening featured the young authors reading their stories.

This exhibit will travel to another gallery this summer where new writers will be invited to submit stories for the exhibition.Watch GalleryFortyTwo.com for more information.

My current show at Gallery 42 is "Avian and Abstracts." I've long been fascinated by birds sitting on wires. I have college sketchbooks with drawings of birds perched - observing - waiting - thinking - chirping with their friends. Before that, in high school, I recall drawing cartoon birds when signing yearbooks. I grew up in an area filled with birds - there was a pet crow that would come and visit our family's picnic table.

When I started painting again four years ago, I picked up on the bird theme and started putting arbitrary bird shapes in my work. Although no bird is a specific bird, there are often raven and dove-like shapes to them. There's something mysterious, self-sufficient, innocent, curious and dignified about birds - I try to capture these traits in my rendering of their form. A subtle turn of their head can create intrigue. Coupling their forms with abstract shapes seems to work seamlessly as an idea.

Recently, Sturgeon Bay's Miller Art Museum announced their hosting of the Woodson Museum's (Wausau, WI) touring "Birds in Art" exhibition. I thought this would be a good time to gather my flock of bird paintings together and cross-promote exhibits with the Miller. I "feathered out" my exhibition with some bird-image pottery by Renée Schwaller and bird carvings by David Frykman. You can see images of the show here.

Prints of many of the paintings are available at my online print store.

My current exhibit at Gallery 42 is titled "What's with the Faces?" The exhibit title was inspired by an incident that happened while at the gallery's Juddville location.  I was working the front gallery when I heard honking on Highway 42. I looked out to see cars screeching to a halt while a large car was doing a three-point u-turn right in the middle of the busy highway. Naturally, the driver and her aging mother were making the dangerous u-turn to pull into our parking lot. After the two silently perused the entire gallery, the younger of them stood in front of the checkout counter, hands planted firmly on hips, and demanded, "What's with the faces?"

I told her that they were all in my head and I needed to get them out or there would be 'issues'. The question struck me as so odd that I repeated it to my wife, Julie who suggested that it be the title of our opening exhibit in Sturgeon Bay.

I do like faces. Everyone has one - and they are all composed of basically the same elements (baring injury or birth defect). So, when my paintbrush and canvas "conjure up" faces - they are never meant to be anyone in particular, but often end up looking somehow familiar. I can often hear people wandering through the gallery saying, "Oh, that looks just like..." Where upon I usually go over and suggest that they purchase the painting for that person - a suggestion that rarely results in a sale - but usually brings forth a comment that the person in question would probably not find it flattering (much less amusing).

That's okay. I like to see people smile when they look at the faces. And, they have sold just as well as anything else that I paint.Certain people have eclectic enough decorating tastes that the whimsical portraits fit right in.

I got a lot of practice doing caricatures when living in Door County the first time around (1989-1990). My illustration and design work had fallen flat due to my location away from a big city (this was pre-internet), so until we packed it in and returned to civilization where the income way, I helped to pay the bills by drawing caricatures for $8 a pop at the local supper club. It was a great job. I'd get to sit a couple feet away from people, stare, and draw goofy pictures of them to the delight of onlookers - and I'd go home with grocery money in my pocket.

You can see some of the faces in the exhibition here.