"WE ARE SICK OF FRIDA"

Someone in town is holding an “I’m sick of Frida” fashion show. I couldn’t agree more. Some times I can imagine I hear a great cry going up from the city of San Miguel: "WE ARE SICK OF FRIDA!" Yes, we are sick and tired of the exploitation of Frida Kahlo. Time to let go and move ahead with something new. There are certainly many other equally important and interesting Mexican artists, artists such as Rufino Tamayo, Federico Cantu Garza, and Leonora Carrington .  Here's some biographical information about these artists courtesy of Wikipedia:

Rufino Tamayo (August 26, 1899 – June 24, 1991) was a Mexican painter of Zapotec heritage, born in Oaxaca de Juarez, Mexico. Tamayo was active in the mid-20th century in Mexico and New York, painting figurative-abstraction with surrealist influences.

Federico Heraclio Cantú Garza (March 3, 1907 – January 29, 1989) was a Mexican painter, engraver and sculptor. While considered to be a member of the Mexican muralism movement, his style was noticeably different, mostly for adhering to older and more academic forms of painting and sculpture. He had his most success exhibiting in the United States and Europe, but he did murals and sculptures in Mexico.

Leonora Carrington OBE (6 April 1917 – 25 May 2011) was a British-born Mexican artist, surrealist painter, and novelist. She lived most of her adult life in Mexico City, and was one of the last surviving participants in the Surrealist movement of the 1930s. Leonora Carrington was also a founding member of the Women’s Liberation Movement in Mexico during the 1970s.

THE SAN MIGUEL GALLERY SYNDROME

1. Artists get together and talk about how to promote and sell their work. They decide to form a group with other artists.

2. This group becomes a cooperative business venture. They decide to open a gallery and share expenses.

3. With the usual hoopla, the gallery opens. They have an opening party with plenty of wine and botanas. The artists are in high spirits and optimism runs high.

4.  A few months later, attendance begins to decline. They decide to have more openings with wine and botanas. They are spending more money than they had been expecting. Hardly any work is sold as a result.

5. Feeling a little dismayed and disappointed, they decide to advertise.

6. With advertising, their expenses go up rapidly.

7. They decide to invite more artists to join their co-op in order to share expenses.

8. More openings with wine and botanas. Very little work is sold.

9. They decide they cannot afford more parties and advertising. Attendance drops off.

10. The group decides it must do something to bring in more money. Desperate, they offer art classes. More money is spent on advertising.

11. The art classes are only moderately successful, and they struggle to stay afloat in a fiercely competitive environment.

12. The members begin to despair. Some drop out. The original members remain. It begins to look hopeless. Finally, the gallery sinks beneath the waves with a last gasp and a whimper.

SAN MIGUEL’S “ART MALL” AND THE CUBAN PHENOMENON

A recent Saturday visit to Fabrica Aurora, the premier gallery space in San Miguel, prompted my thoughts on the question – Where are the art buyers? This visit followed closely on the heels of an article in the NYTimes about artists in Cuba. It seems that many international art collectors have been making art buying trips to Havana despite the fact that Cuban artists have no access to the internet and are unable to promote their work online. My speculation is that word of mouth is working for them on a very large scale. But back to the question of buyers in San Miguel. I spent an hour or so observing the people coming into Fabrica, and there were many on this particular Saturday. They were mostly young, middle-class Mexicans with one or two small children. They were well dressed and looked like they could afford the purchase of a $5000 (USD) painting. However, an interest in serious art did not appear to be the primary reason for their visit. Rather, they were gathered in the courtyard taking group photos of themselves before moving on to look at weathered doors, woven wall hangings, and antique pieces of furniture. “Perhaps one in a hundred people who come here are serious buyers,” I thought. And I am probably right. So artists who have set up shop in this very expensive, high-end “art mall” are struggling to pay the rent, and that is not the kind of struggle that fosters great art. In conclusion, I would say that the Cuban artists are far more fortunate. They have gone on quietly creating art without any help from the internet and now the buyers are showing up at their studios. Quite a remarkable development.

BEING AN INDEPENDENT ARTIST, LESS SECURE BUT FREE

Here’s a quote I came across in Janson’s The History of Art, and which I like exceedingly well: “To subject the artist to the impersonal pressure of supply and demand in an egalitarian society is not necessarily worse than to make him depend on the favor of princes. The lesser men will tend to become specialists, steadily producing their marketable pictures, while artists of independent spirit, perhaps braving public indifference and economic hardship, will paint as they please and rely for support on the discerning minority. . . Even the greatest masters were sometimes hard-pressed (it was not unusual for an artist to keep an inn, or run a small business on the side). Yet they survived – less secure, but freer.” (pp. 424-25) I salute those artists, like myself, whose fiercely independent spirit keeps them free despite the hardships they must endure.

MY SLOW ART

The more I listen to Bach’s cello suites, the more emotionally satisfying they become. They are meant to be savored, like a snifter of the finest cognac. One doesn’t gulp down a superior cognac, one swirls it around in the glass, breathes in the aroma, and sips it slowly. Would it be hubristic to compare my work to Bach’s cello suites? What I mean is that I believe my paintings deserve slow and careful contemplation. A lot of contemporary art can be taken in with a single glance. The images, like so much in our modern society, are intended for quick consumption, and they do not merit prolonged viewing. By contrast, my art rewards the viewer who takes the time to look at it in a leisurely and thoughtful manner. They are meant for slow gazing. They are slow art.