Break Rules

Advice to artists: create a style and stick with it, become famous and own a highly marketable brand. The same for any business.

Usually an artist chooses to concentrate on one discipline; like classical piano, poetry, fiction writing, or specific type of painting. He masters a style and gives it his own personality, perhaps becoming famous as a brand. If that brand goes big he is world famous. For instance Van Gogh. He made paintings in his own style, not popular at the time, but highly identifiable. Exactly 100 years after he died, Vincent’s  painting, Portrait of Dr. Gachet sold at auction for 163 million dollars.

My own trajectory as an artist is varied. I have a huge interest in the world and find that if I am in a niche I get uncomfortable. So I break rules and surprise people with explorations into the unknown. Then I also surprise myself.

My greatest success as an artist has been as a landscape painter. I am grateful for being able to make a living with my painting (see Steven Boone website). I often pinched myself to be sure I was not dreaming. “And I have not had to be a waiter on the side,” I told folks.

Along the way I have written a memoir, poetry, and magazine articles. I have been a publisher, made photographs, learned graphic design, been a printmaker and owned art galleries. 

I go in different directions simultaneously.

Recently I looked through old files of photographs and came upon some made between 15 and 20 years ago I share today. 

Hanging From Clothespins

The picture of the bandaged head hanging from a clothesline with an ear pinned next to it took her by surprise. The young woman had been happily thumbing through my print drawer full of colorful landscape images. She spotted something different and could not take her eyes off it. I explained, "This is Vincent Van Gogh after he cut off his ear."
"Wow," she said, "I have to go get my boyfriend and bring him to look at this. He is across the hall at the jewelry shop buying a bolo tie."

A few minutes later the couple came in and I explained that the painting is part of my series called Hangups—images of faces hanging from clothespins. I showed them my book and pointed out Van Gogh, All Hung Up. "This one is in a museum in Arles, France, where Van Gogh lived." I said.
They bought the print: signed, numbered, and made with archival ink on 100% cotton rag paper. To go along with it I included a book.

Yes, Van Gogh did it. It was the night before Christmas Eve in 1888 -- a cold Sunday evening in the French city of Arles -- when Vincent Van Gogh took the razor he kept on his small dressing table and slashed off his left earlobe. After he was bandaged, he made a self-portrait that I used in my painting—exactly as he painted it. And I put his ear next to him.

The Hangups are my most unique series of art. I made the first on a whim in 1993 and more soon followed. My most prolific year was 1996 but I had to stop because they are unsettling. The last one I made was Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump when they were candidates for president in 2016.

See the book, click here: Hangups

Chicago

This last week, I flew to Chicago, the place of my birth. My daughter Sarah is finishing her studies in dance at Columbia College, and as part of her senior project, choreographed and performed in a modern dance. Chicago is notorious for its bone chilling winters, and the trees are just beginning to show buds that will become the green leaves of summer, but the weather was surprisingly warm. Chicago is called “the windy city” because it rises from the shores of Lake Michigan where heady breezes blow.

Sarah called her dance Desert Skies, and used one of my paintings of a southwestern sunset as a backdrop. Six dancers performed to elegant music with flute, in flowing burnt-orange pastel dresses that harmonized with the sunset. The dancers entered the stage from both sides, seeming to arrive into the landscape of the setting sun. From there, the bodies often came together only to fly apart in patterned movement, coming together again . . . falling, rising, running, grasping the sky with arms like wings, twirling, spinning and finally becoming one pulsing circle that fell to the ground in ecstatic exhaustion. The evening included six performances, and afterwards, the students, their parents and admirers all gathered together for a social time. I found Sarah in the hall outside the auditorium and she was flushed from exercise and excitement. She said she felt happy to have accomplished her task but a bit sad too that it all was ended.

Big cities have wonderful resources to keep people informed and entertained, and whenever I arrive in Chicago I always visit the Art Institute of Chicago. It holds many masterpieces, and some I never tire of seeing, such as an exquisite small self-portrait by Vincent Van Gogh.
The institution is constantly providing the public with new features, and I was able to see a wonderful special exhibit about the famous Norwegian painter Edvard Munch who is best known for his iconic painting called The Scream.


My stay in Chicago lasted three days and when I boarded the airplane to travel 1125.18 miles (1810 kilometers) back to Santa Fe, New Mexico, I felt like Sarah did after her dance performance—satisfied but a bit sad that this wonderful sojourn had drawn to a close.