making + editing

here are a few notes on the link between creating works (of art or anything) + editing.


1. PLAUSIBLE: do i believe this statement, passage, presentation? can X (word, passage, material, note, dialogue, etc.) exist in the world i have created?

2. OWNERSHIP: are these words, style, language attached to the maker?

3. AGENCY: do we have “active verbs”? are we carving, engaging, re-presenting?

4. WILLIE NELSON: does this object/project/sentence/passage ‘say’ the author/maker’s name clearly? if not > back to the “drawing” board.

(wild) queen anne’s lace, 2022, water-based media on recycled felt paper on cradle, 8 x 8 in

new paintings at spalding nix fine art

At the half-way point of a 16 month study of Hawaii which began with a trip to Maui in January, Katherine Sandoz offers 24 postcard size paintings that feature the landscape and flora of Hawaii. The series name is (pono).

(pono) red ti no. 1, 2022, water-based media on recycled felt paper, 6” x 4”

As with the Hawaiian language - delicate, layered and complex - pono communicates several meanings and, in one word, describes the cosmology and philosophy of the Hawaii oiwi (native Hawaiian of Polynesian descent) ethos. Pono means goodness, righteousness, correctness, excellence, well-being. The word is synonymous with prosperity, benefit, duty, morality and speaks to resources, assets, needs, purposes and plans. When something is pono, it is considered to have the qualities of what is correct and just.

In Mary Kawena Puku and Samuel Hoyt Elbert’s Hawaiian dictionary, it is written, “It is something to authentically aspire to rather than to fully attain, mostly because pono means more than doing the right thing in a given situation, but rather living life with balance, harmony and integrity, seeking to improve the surrounding world.” When something is pono, it is considered to have the qualities of what is correct and just. It partners with nature, its resources, its plants, its people. Without pono, nature, its resources, and the people are endangered physically, intellectually and existentially.

Pono mirrors another essential phrase in the Hawaiian language, thought and culture: aloha ʻāina or ‘love of the land’. One does not simply love the land, humans are borne of, spring up and grow from the land. The land is the first genealogical ancestor of its people. Aloha ʻāina integrates science, society and spirituality in a type of nationalism or patriotism.

The (pono) series celebrates and honors the botanical diversity and complexity of the nation of Hawaii. Each substrate has served as a paint palette and then is interpreted, read and painted upon again. There is a history and a density to the object that is the painting.

In the spirit of pono and aloha ʻāina, each work in the (pono) series is priced at $414 (as a nod to the 14th Amendment). Today we are called to guarantee the 14th; that citizens’ rights and privileges not be abridged by law. To engender both pono and Aloha ʻāina, we must also protect each person’s fundamental rights and liberties.

Spalding Nix Fine Art and Katherine Sandoz will donate 33% of all proceeds of these paintings to the ACLU-GA in support of reproductive health care.

Emerging Artist Spotlight: Katherine Sandoz, Savannah, Georgia

This text appeared on March 14, 2021 on the Macon Museum of Arts and Sciences blog written by curator and artist Kristy B. Edwards as part of programming for the Emerging National IX curated by Executive Director Susan Welsh.

_____

One of the four invitees of the ninth annual Emerging National IX show this year is Katherine Sandoz from Savannah, Ga. Katherine's seven paintings are hanging in our Hall Gallery and can be seen in person during museum hours; 10 AM-5 PM, Tuesday through Saturday.

photo:  courtesy of Macon Museum of Arts + Sciences

photo: courtesy of Macon Museum of Arts + Sciences

I had the pleasure of talking at length with the artist in our Instagram Live TV segment that can be watched here: Conversation with Katherine Sandoz. Her website can be found here: Katherine Sandoz.

Sandoz works in various media- 2-D paintings that are expertly crafted front and back, installations from found and gathered natural objects, and fibre work. Today I will focus on her 2-D paintings, especially those in the Emerging National IX Show, which is up until the end of May.

My first impressions of her work have to do with their “lookability”; not a word really, but rather a sense. Sandoz’s work is easy on the eye. There are no jarring or dissonant elements, and there is not frenetic disorganized color or lines. I wouldn’t say they are “controlled” in a way that indicates the feeling of tightness, but rather they sit on the edge of paradox; strong yet gentle, organized yet abstracted, close yet far. Each painting has that beauty, that reminder of the landscape like a window outward. There is something deeper behind them all, though, and they are not just attractive works. They have a soul.

She told me in our interview about the idea she held in her mind while she was creating this series “Sequoia,” with the theme Locus Amoenus. During Covid, the idea of a “safe place” became an overarching theme for all of us, especially in the beginning of our quarantine when fear was abundant and information was scarce. Sandoz turned to the natural world around her in Savannah; beautiful coastal landscapes of marshes, dunes, water, Spanish moss. The sudden idea that there is no safe place among humans hits you during a pandemic where a virus must have a human host. This very basic knowledge makes being among people a danger. And then, more and more clearly, the natural world becomes safer than indoor spaces with other people.


The paintings that Sandoz created from this soup of creative thought give you a sense of peace and beauty. She inserts a horizon line in each one, knowing from early childhood that we all, as young artists, insert that instinctive line in all our early paintings. This horizon line is our anchor in chaos; it’s our compass point. Each of the series of paintings has a line in it, and she told me that they could actually be hung so that the lines could all match and run through them. How interesting it would be to see them like that.

(sequoia) trees at red river, 2020, water-based media on canvas, 30” x 30” available through Macon Museum of Arts and Sciences, contact Kristy B. Edwards, kedwars@masmacon.org

(sequoia) trees at red river, 2020, water-based media on canvas, 30” x 30” available through Macon Museum of Arts and Sciences, contact Kristy B. Edwards, kedwars@masmacon.org

 

Katherine Sandoz is a present witness to nature; she is our point of view. When you stand before them, there is no way to escape that her eyes are your eyes. This aspect has a connective and calming influence. You don’t feel that it's necessary to ‘make sense of anything. It’s intuitive, natural, and magnetic.

I told Katherine that I sensed her strong witness in these works immediately. She does not feed us ideas, constructs, or opinions; she just offers what’s before her back to us, and as she does, we remember. We remember the delicate tissue paper shapes we made as children, and we remember the sea, the leaves, and tree forms. We remember our Locus Amoenus, our safe place. Her handling of material and form help us go home to that, and yet like memory it is blurred and clouded by transparency and opacity overlaps, drips, and bleeding memories; one into another bringing us our sense of peace we so badly need.

Enjoy your afternoon,
My best,
Kristy Edwards
Curator of Art
478-477-3232
kedwards@masmacon.com

LIVE chat at the museum of arts + sciences

In conjunction with my paintings being featured in the “Emerging National IX” annual, curated by Susan Welsh, Director of the Macon Museum of Arts and Sciences, I had the distinct pleasure of speaking with museum curator and painter, Kristy B. Edwards about the selected works.

These paintings, a part of the (sequoia) series, were made between January 2020 and January 2021. Each work uses the concept of locus amoenus as its starting point. Locus amoenus is a literary tool which  describes a idealized, safe place, a place containing trees, grass, water. It is at once a green world, a feminine place, an expression of a universal  spirituality that is nature. Like a hortus conclucus, or enclosed garden, it is also a  paradox in that nature is not, can not be, enclosed or walled. All of the paintings in the four series made in 2020 offer us a locus amoenus. They also notify and remind us of the artifice of the picture plane, of the contained garden, of the idea of safety. They highlight our attempts to contain both nature, our fears, and passions as well as our desire to contain life, beauty, whatever perceptions of  demesne or dominion we might hold.  

_____

LIVE chat/video with curator + painter, Kristy B. Edwards: here

what sparks joy?

I am pleased to share some writing from physician, author, neighbor and friend Dr. Kristin Ott. She has recently been writing about joy, where she finds it and, in my analysis, how to spread it. She has shared with me a recent post that happened to feature thoughts on my paintings of which the Otts have become collectors. Thanks to Dr. K for your words and for sharing them so generously with all of us.

_____

Katherine Sandoz’s work is layered and complex—even sort of cerebral. She has a way of making you look at things you’ve seen before in a new way. The seascape pictured below is from her latest collection which is comprised of paintings of various sizes and subject matter that fit together to make an independent expansive piece depicting another scene entirely. She was inspired by the concept of “locus amoenus”—a pleasant space within a larger natural space. Hence her paintings within a painting. See what I mean? Cerebral.

(aurora) sea escape, 2020, water-based media on canvas, 48” x 48”

(aurora) sea escape, 2020, water-based media on canvas, 48” x 48”

When we moved to Vernonburg 8 years ago (a locus amoenus within Savannah), Katherine became our neighbor. It’s rumored that her work has earned its way into the private collections of people like Keanu Reeves, but I’ve never verified that with her because it would be beneath her to talk about her art that way. Though talented and successful, she is humble and kind. And when she painted a collection titled, “Vernonburg,” I very much wanted to own a piece from it. That is how this Magnolia came to bloom on our wall.

I’ve looked at it every day for over a year now, and it still sparks joy for me. It features Katherine’s iconic layering, and my connection to it is layered. On the surface, it’s beautiful. And it was inspired by a flower that bloomed right here in Vernonburg—a place I love. And it was painted by someone who talks with me about books and brings me the most lovely hostess gifts—like a silk handkerchief printed with an installation that filled an entire wall in the Jepson Center for the Arts. Printing a massive painting from an elite space on an accessible handkerchief that can be tucked away in a pocket is such a Katherine thing to do. I so admire her and her work.

(vernonburg) grey magnolia, 2018-2019, water-based media on canvas, 36” x 49”

(vernonburg) grey magnolia, 2018-2019, water-based media on canvas, 36” x 49”

I think a tenet of joy is appreciating what you already have. That’s how art in your home can be a daily source of renewable joy. This painting is for me.

(published on Facebook with this entreaty in its first appearance)

I’d love it if you’d help me create a little “virtual museum” today by commenting with a picture of a piece of art that hangs in your home—or just one that really speaks to you. It can be a poster or a print. If you think it’s beautiful, it’s worth sharing. Art is joy. And sharing it multiplies it.

----

Kristin Ott is an emergency medicine physician in Savannah, Georgia. She is the founder of the international Women Physician Writers group and is currently working on her second novel. Some of her popular medical essays can be found on KevinMD.com

now exhibiting at macon museum of arts and sciences

I am pleased to announce that new works from the (sequoia) series have been included in those invited to this year’s Emerging National Exhibit at the Macon Museum of Arts and Sciences.

“The Museum of Arts and Sciences presents its 9th annual Emerging National exhibition, showcasing rising stars from across the United States. Four contemporary professional artists, representing some of the nation’s finest undergraduate and graduate art programs, will display works ranging from large-scale abstract paintings and mixed media installations to ceramic sculpture.”

In addition to my works, there are new works installed from Will Penny, Kristina Larson and Whitney Wood Bailey. The museum is currently open to the public and additional programming will be announced. This exhibit runs through May 29, 2021.

katherine sandoz (sequoia) back river haboob, 2020, water-based media on canvas, 30” x 30”

katherine sandoz (sequoia) back river haboob, 2020, water-based media on canvas, 30” x 30”

AURORA: new series

(AURORA)

february - may 2020

in january 2020, i made an outline for the development of three new series of paintings.  they would examine the idea of locus amoenus, a literary tool which describes a idealized, safe place,  a place containing trees, grass, water. 

locus amoenus is at once a green world, a feminine place, an expression of a universal spirituality that is nature.  similarly, a hortus conclucus, or enclosed garden, is also a paradox in that nature is not, can not be, enclosed or walled.  the paintings work to create a locus amoenus and they also notify and remind us of the artifice of the picture plane, of the contained garden, of the idea of safety.  they highlight our attempts to contain both nature, our fears, and passions as well as our desire to contain life, beauty, whatever perceptions of demesne or dominion we might hold.

at the time, i wrote aurora, sequoia and tryst as the titles of the series.  i would overlay a structure of trees, grass and sky as well as work with the chinese philosophy of the entirety of the world made up of the three stations:  heaven (spiritual), human (relationships), earth (the land).

aurora heaven sky

tryst human grass

sequoia earth tree

by the end of march 2020, i had made considerable headway in creating both the tryst and the aurora series. 

tryst is a series of 20 paintings that reveal wild, fauvist gardens created from the chaos of a painter’s previously used palette.  references were pulled from photographs sent by friends in 2020.

the aurora series offers seemingly idyllic land and waterscapes, a place where the spirit may partner with the earth.  when we search for the human element in the painting, we find these absent bodies are hiding under the foliage.  they swim behind waves that have reversed their tides and patterns. they are dwarfed by plants from distant lands that have washed ashore. night swimmers approach a fragmented, lit island that reveals itself to be more aquatic plant than terra firma.  

this terra infirma, full of contradiction and the unknown, is where we find ourselves in light of 2020’s pandemic and the rising protests against social injustice - the great paradox of so much beauty and so much despair.  

as artists all, may we re-weave, re-tell, re-paint and re-sing, re-present the models for building contemporary civilization. the art is quietly, sometimes loudly, commenting, asking and telling about our past, present and future - hopefully, in helpful ways.  the art we make, display, hold dear is both contained and wild, coarse and delicate, bold and timid - thousands of mirrors in which to peer, innumerable reflections of which we may be a part.

_______

NOTES:

  1. the pandemic and the rising protests against the social injustice woven into the fabric of our civilization especially here in the united states. 

  2. never have artists not written, painted, sung, shared their work during the world’s greatest crises, wars, the many pandemics that have come before.

  3. it is my hope that these instruments might be be used to offer beauty and to offer models that could lead to small changes in our understanding of how to better our relationship with one another and with mother nature.  

  4. as with the literary use locus amoenus, the space created by paintings, art might be not so much an idyll, but a model to assist in achieving balance, seeking refuge, and finding a sense of rejuvenation.

  5. the word aurora (dawn) and corona (crown), in science, have been closely associated as the spectrum of aurora and those of the corona show some physical correspondence.

  6. sequoia:  may we be neither hunter, nor hunted, but conservator of the forest (as metaphor for world)

(aurora) nightswim, 2020, water-based media on canvas, 30” x 30”

(aurora) nightswim, 2020, water-based media on canvas, 30” x 30”

2020 art in a “leap” year

Happy New Year!

As a leap year and the year of the metal rat, we’re geared up for a strong, prosperous, and lucky year full of good fortune and personality! Sounds exciting!

While you are planning for the next months, I hope you’ll consider adding strength and personality in the form of one of my paintings or an interior or exterior treatment. Additionally, I look forward to sharing inspiration from southeast Georgia and beyond, as well as studio news throughout the year.

Wishing you all best for your homes, work, families and chosen activities throughout 2020.

(sufa19) banana palms, 2019, water0based media on canvas, 36” x 48”

(sufa19) banana palms, 2019, water0based media on canvas, 36” x 48”

This painting, photographed at the site of its inspiration in Vernonburg, Georgia, is currently available through Laney Contemporary in Savannah, Georgia.

new works to show in huntsville

JUBILEE, 29 new works on canvas, will exhibit at Lowe Mill Arts + Entertainment in Huntsville, Alabama beginning September 25, 2019. Reception is September 27th from 6-8 p.m.

(jubilee) mother of millions, 2019, 24” x 24”, water-based media on canvas

(jubilee) mother of millions, 2019, 24” x 24”, water-based media on canvas

annoying words to read or hear

Writers (some of you are repeat, serial offender), please don’t write these words. That goes double for artists; don’t use them.

artifice

entropy

fragility

duality 

evoke

entrepôt 

exigency 

supplant

effulgence

inexorable

inscrutable

halcyon

inchoate

frisson

curate

prosaic

“a beat”

baronial

thrumming

mesmeric

coruscating

disillusion

ineffable 

tumult

peripatetic 

quixotic

gelidity

mashama bailey wins james beard award for top chef: southeast

The most wonderful news this week came out of Chicago Monday evening: Mashama Bailey of The Grey restaurant in Savannah won the James Beard Award: Top Chef: Southeast.

For those of us living and eating out in Savannah; we have been well aware and have been waiting (kind of) patiently! It brings a gush of fresh air into the lungs to see this woman recognized for all she is, thinks and does.

“We should all be very proud of ourselves,” she said. “We are moving this country forward in the right direction. I am a black girl from Queens, New York, and my most influential cuisine is Peter’s Kitchen Chinese take-out, ” the AJC recently quoted Bailey.

Bailey is the first black American to win this award. She is the second woman of color as Nina Compton (born and raised in the Caribbean) of Compère Lapin, in New Orleans won for best chef in the South. But only LAST year - 2018. Good grief. May more women rise to be recognized!

Congratulations to Mashama Bailey, John Morisano and The Grey team. Thank you for your two fabulous locations and thank you for bringing a bright shiny comet of GREAT and redemptive news into our week.

mashama bailey of THE GREY restaurant, top chef in the southeast + in this writer’s heart

mashama bailey of THE GREY restaurant, top chef in the southeast + in this writer’s heart

harrison scott key for the bitter southerner: the swiss army painter

I’m Swiss, was in the Army and I’m a painter!

So goes the recent feature story for the Bitter Southerner by my long-time collaborator and writer Harrison Scott Key goes.

While my paintings and some of my history is covered, the story centers on “seeing art” and how it might contribute to our greater understanding of and engagement in the world we find ourselves.

Studio and Vernonburg photos are by Kaylinn Gilstrap.

photo: Kaylinn Gilstrap for the Bitter Southerner

photo: Kaylinn Gilstrap for the Bitter Southerner