Bringing in Colour

Winter days in southeastern New Brunswick tend to be somewhat colourless, other than an occasional burst of blue sky or subtle shadows playing on the snow.  While splashing about in my art journal recently I couldn't resist the urge to bring in some unexpected colours and playful markings.

Feels like the energy of spring is trying to burst through. Alas, still a long way to go yet.  Thank goodness for a few boxes of colours and patterns to get me through otherwise dullish winter days.

The great thing about having an art journal is that one can be completely uninhibited therein.  Rather like the equivalent of running naked out into the snow--but warmer.

Let loose a little and lighten up your day!

A Little P.R.

Invitation

Newspaper Interview (sorry I'm unable to reproduce it in a readable size)

Press Release

LYNNE CIACCO: MY CALABRIA 

Lynne Ciacco is excited to present her first solo painting exhibit in eleven years. Titled “My Calabria,” the 20 mixed media paintings showcase the deeply layered textures and weathered colours of the ancient palazzi found throughout southern Italy.

Inspired by a trip to visit her grandfather’s homeland in Calabria, Lynne recalls, “I was enchanted by the variety of palazzi that line the narrow streets in towns clinging to steep coastal and mountain cliffs. I stayed in one such palazzo, with cold marble floors, metre-thick walls and 5-metre high ceilings. The arched wooden doors and wrought iron balconies spoke of ancient times. I wanted to capture the emotions that the gorgeous, crumbling, highly textured facades stirred in me.”

Lynne knew that she would have to communicate her deep love of this region through her art. To do so, she developed a completely new method of art-making for herself. In each canvas, Lynne integrates acrylics, fabric, and photos with an expressionistic style of painting.

The warm colours, rich textures, slashed-into fabrics, and layered paint describe dwellings marked by centuries of daily lives. Through these canvases, the viewer experiences the profound sense of place, history, and emotion that Lynne felt when standing on cobblestoned Calabrian streets.

While Lynne is a multi-faceted artist, her first love is painting. Her creativity finds colourful expression through acrylics, mixed media, collage, and digital art. Past explorations have included work in such media as watercolour, textile arts, rug-hooking, art dolls, as well as illustration of children’s books. Lynne’s work has been exhibited at numerous public and private galleries on Canada’s east and west coasts, and collected internationally.

Lynne Ciacco was born and raised in Vancouver. She earned an Advanced Diploma in Painting from the Vancouver School of Art, and later obtained a Bachelor of Fine Art degree through the Emily Carr College of Art & Design. She moved to New Brunswick with her husband and child some 25 years ago, 19 of which have been spent in the village of Hillsborough. In a century-old farmhouse overlooking the fields along the Peticodiac River, Lynne cooks up her art in a home-based studio that was formerly a kitchen.

For a glimpse into Lynne’s many means of expression, visit her website at LynneCiaccoArt.weebly.com and keep up-to-date with her studio work on her art blog, Ragzedge.blogspot.com

Exhibit closes September 6, 2012

Nerve Block

I was determined to get a new piece of artwork up before it'stime to post the Sunday maxim.  Yesterday's attempt at painting went nowhere.  It's just not happening for me these days and I can't force it.  Tonight, I grabbed some papers and clippings to collage and then went at it with acrylics. 

©2011 L.Ciacco, Nerve Block, Collage/Mixed Media, 7.25 x 5.5 inches

nerve block

or just plain procrastination

Steering your ideas

through gauntlets of objections

DREAMERS INTO DOERS

having started here

Art imitating life again, judging from the subliminal message that turned up!

Random Acts of Blogging

I sat down at the computer tonight, thinking I'd find a few pictures to post on my home-and-away blog, Décolleté, but instead I found myself lost for hours, playing happily in Photoshop with an old mixed media painting of mine I randomly happened upon in my files.  Below is the end result of a few hours of tinkering...

Digital collage of found image (Japanese woodblock) with original mixed media painting by L.Ciacco

This was where a mixed media painting of mine started (go here to see where it ended up) and  is what I used as the underlay for the new digital collage shown above. 

With added layers of textures and various blending modes, I toned everything down...

and dropped in the image of a woodblock print that I'd found on the internet...

But it bugs me to use other artist's images, no matter how long ago they left this world, or what sort of clever post-modern reference I may or may not be making to their art or an art genre by incorporating it into my own work, so I felt compelled to try one of my own photos in place of the woodblock.

This bike was parked outside a grocery store (dépanneur) on a Montreal street....

but through some digital hocus pocus, it is magically transported to a mysterious Asian town.

©2010 L.Ciacco, Bicyclette-Montréal, Digitally Altered Photo

Do you recognize various elements from the original painting?

***

And as it's now 3:30 a.m. I think I'll layer myself into the background of my cozy bed and blend my mind with the magic of Dreamland. 

Tomorrow I'll hop on the bike and take a little tour around the blogs on my handlebars side bar. 

See you then.

Bonne nuit!

To Who, To Who?

Or should that be "to whom"?

©2010 L. Ciacco, Boy with Owl, mixed media on cradled panel, 6 x 8 in.

Shades of Harry Potter, I suppose.
 

I wonder how many of you read any or all of the Harry Potter series?  I got as far as the third volume.  I saw some of the movies, too, but I must admit I had trouble staying awake through the Quiditch (sort of like lacrosse played on flying broomsticks) games, and the battles. When you're reading a book, you can just skip the parts you don't like, such as battles, or sports, or card games. Maybe that's why people like eating popcorn at the movies; gives them something to do during the less interesting or more disturbing scenes.  I wonder if owls like popcorn.  Maybe if it's mouse-flavoured.

Wedding Bell Blues

I'm not sure what the mood of this young bride is.  I suspect she's having a moment of reflection before heading off to the church, realizing that she's leaving one part of her life behind forever.

©2010 L.Ciacco, Bride Reflecting, mixed media on cradled panel, 8 x 6 in.

I have to admit to a slight obsession with a tv show called "Say Yes to the Dress" which follows women in a very ritzy NYC bridal salon as they choose their wedding gowns.  I think I'm mostly in shock at the amount of money they're prepared to shell out for a piece of whipped cream they'll wear once in their lives.  Or it might be that I'm more interested in the characters of the bridal advisors (sales clerks) trying to sell the would-be-brides their gowns, often in the face of obvious opposition from the bride's entourage.  Anyway, the program seems to have switched from NYC now to a town in the American south, and my obsession has been magically cured, rather like a Virginia ham.  I'm thinking that this little portrait was my subconscious tribute and farewell to "Say Yes to the Dress."

But then, when this is where the piece started, with no planning at all on my part,  how could it have gone in any other direction?  Wouldn't you have painted a bride??

Here's a little blast from my past:  a tune that was very popular with me and my girlfriends,  not that we agreed with the sentiment...

...and not that any of us actually ever got a wedding dress.

Bixi Babe

I love this lady!  She emerged as part of my ongoing series about "let's see where this goes" (ie. unplanned painting).

©2010 L. Ciacco, Lady on a Bike Riding Through Town.  Mixed media on cradled panel, 10 x 8 in.

Are you familiar with Bixi bikes? 

They're solidly built public bicycles for rent in many large cities. 

My daughter lives in Montreal and there's a Bixi stand on her street corner. 

I didn't have the nerve to try one last time I was there as it's been a few years since I was on a bike,

and Montreal is a BIG city. 

But this is sort of how I imagine I would look if I got the nerve up to try one. 

Obviously though, this lady is riding her own bike,

complete with wicker basket attached to the handle bars. 

I love her look of calm confidence and concentration.  Very sure of herself. 

So where do you suppose she's off to?
And where did she get that hat?!

Look Who Showed up for Supper

©2010 L.Ciacco, Artist Twirling his Cane While Awaiting Supper at the Café, mixed media on cradled panel, 10 x 8 in.

In my ongoing exploration of seeing what pops up on randomly texturized canvasses, look who appeared!

• It seems like I'm returning to a natural style of my own that many years of art school training attempted to drum out of me. 
• Now, of course, I bring more experience and knowledge to the technique and use a different medium (acrylics/mixed media rather than pastels or oil paints). 
• My experimenting with textiles also brings a love of texture to my  painting these days, in contrast to the very flat surfaces of my earlier work.

Zut alors! (gotta love high school French), I'm just enjoying the ride. 

I hope you are too!

Healing Ceremony

This intriguing little tableau emerged from some laid-down textures that I covered with acrylic paint.

©L.Ciacco,  Healing Ceremony.  Acrylic/mixed media on cradled panel, 10 x 10 inches.

I just never know what's going to pop out of my canvasses these days. 

Kind of like flying by the seat of my pants. 

But it all makes for some interesting discoveries. 

This one reminds me of dreams one can't quite remember;

dreams of helpers gathered round. 

I 'm not sure here just who is the one dreaming and/or being healed. 

I hope it's me--

or maybe it's you?

Guardian Angel

Usually when I make a painting I work at it until it gets to a place where it feels right and I like it.  Sometimes, it doesn't work at all and I have to pretty much scrub it all out and start all over again.  And once in awhile, I come up with something that surprises me with how it speaks very directly to something deep inside of myself that was trying to communicate with me.  This little painting is one of those.

©2010 L. Ciacco, Guardian Angel.  Acrylic, tissue, fabric, cheesecloth on canvas, 8 x 6 in.

It looks like perhahps this guardian angel has just received the precious being she's to look out for during its time on planet Earth.  She seems thrilled, apprehensive, tender, and a little messed up over the whole enterprise.  The picture also suggests to me my own gift of being an artist--something precious that has been given to me that I must tenderly nurture, and try to not get too messed up about.

(I love how her halo is askew.)

I hope you're all busily nurturing your precious gifts and living artfully!


P.S. Coincidentally (?) I posted a little write-up on my rusty angels collection over on my other blog this morning.

Family Ties

An intriguing little painting emerged from the textured surface I'd layed down with cheesecloth, a piece of lace, an oval-shaped scrap of canvas, and some scrunched-up tissue from an old sewing pattern.  I don't know if it's the family groupings in Aris's charming paintings over at peekadoo that are subtly influencing me, or the sketchy beings who crop up in Jeanne Meyers' work from time to time, but it seems that the human form is struggling to come through in my paintings these days.

©2010 L.Ciacco, The Four Sisters Gather at the Dining Room Table. Acrylic, fabric, tissue on cradled board,
8 x8 inches.

I had a dreadful time trying to replicate the colours of this piece so that you'd get a real feel for what the painting looks like, but I don't think they've come out quite right.  It's always a completely different experience to stand in front of a "live"painting at any rate, don't you find? 

I lead a very isolated sort of life in a small village with my partner of 30+ years, far away from all of our family members.  We also don't have much of a social circle, so my life truly reflects the Joni Mitchell line "I am a lonely painter, I live in a box of paints."   Perhaps this lack of human contact is what's prompting me to paint people into my canvasses these days.  At any rate, it's fascinating to find them appearing.

About the sisters who cropped up in this painting:  I can't help but wonder why it is they've gathered and what it is they're so serious about.  I like how each has her own distinct character.  Lots of scope for the viewer to make up stories about them!  My husband, perhaps due to his former identity of TV interviewer, feels  they're looking at him and saying, "So, what's your story?"  I'd love to hear what your take on the little tableau might be.

A Surprise Visit to the Circus

In my ongoing exploration of "let's see where this takes me" I recently found myself in a magical realm of a small, travelling circus in the middle of the night.  Well, not actually, but in a painting that emerged on my prepared cradled board.

©Lynne Ciacco 2010, Circus Zebra in the Night, acrylic + mixed media on board, 10 x 10 in.

The piece began with fabric bits glued to the board and no set direction or idea.  I just grabbed whatever bottle or tube of paint, whatever piece of foam or paint brush or foam brush that I felt like trying and relaxed enough to not worry too much about the outcome.  I find there's almost always some point in the process where I despair and think it's not going to work out.  But it's just at that point that I'm able to let go:  if I've already ruined it, it doesn't really matter what I do next.  And that's precisely when the magic begins to happen. 

Happy Birthday of the Soul

Continuing with my painting explorations, this is what recently emerged

12 x 12 in. mixed media on cradled wood panel

It started life about 2 years ago with a physically altered (scratched, scraped, drawn & quartered painted-on) photo of sailboats in the upper left hand corner.  There were some dreamy suggestions of trees and flowers wafting about the canvas.  But when I started adding paint to it the other day, I couldn't deal with those sailboats so ended up deep-sixing them.  Having no idea where I was going, but just trusting my process of getting there, this is the picture that emerged.  I guess an alternate title could be Subterranean Homesick Blues, but Bob Dylan already took that.  Showing this painting to a friend recently, she remarked that it has a Chagall feeling to it.  I took that as a great compliment.

A Surprise Visit

I had an 8 x 10 inch wooden support prepared with a textured layer of cheesecloth, budgie gravel, a negative photostrip, and dressmaker's tissue waiting patiently on my desk for further ministrations for a few weeks.  Recently, when I'd gone to my studio to finish up the little collage I'd started, I instead got drawn to the textured piece and started slapping paint onto it. Wanting to work quickly, I used dollar store bottles of acrylics, rubbing them on, wiping them off.  All I knew was that I wanted to put a human element in it.  This is who emerged.

Tatianna

I added Golden acrylics on the top surface to enrich the colour tones and enhance the paint quality.  I have about 20 more of these cradled wooden panels that I'd bought to frame some other work but I do believe I'm going to use them for new paintings instead.  I don't want to frighten her away by talking about her, but I do believe my muse may be back!

Sunset Palazzo

Let us begin here.






















And finish here

I got a bit carried away and neglected to photograph the interim steps of this transformation.  I remember being rather shocked to find myself reaching for a hot tone of orange at some point and smearing it on the work quite late in the process.  I've learned to just go with my instincts and not let my head get in the way.  Even if the colour doesn't work out per se, it usually lends an intriguing undertone to whatever colour ends up on top.  In this case, though, I left the pure colour as applied, feeling that it gave a heat and passion to the picture.  When I look at this painting I remember the magical colours of Calabrian sunsets, just after the early evening promenade before everyone heads home to a late supper (preferably after drinks on a terrazzo).

MEZZOGIORNO

The warm, sunny colours of mid-day in Calabria.

The penultimate step of the painting.  At this stage I didn't like how it was blasting right off the top of the canvas and felt some more softening marks were needed around the bottom edge of the composition.

Here are the basic colours laid down.  The building is time-worn and faded by the centuries of hot noonday sunshine.

You can see that right off the bat I was remembering the Calabrian sunshine.

The painting always starts with a fabric collage and then the appropriately toned photos are found to complement those colours.  I also look for details in the photos that will reflect some of the patterns in the fabric.  It's important to start off with a good fabric composition.  It's tricky to find the right photos (I'm running out!) and then to determine what size and level of saturation to print them.  The really annoying, fidgety stage is combining the photos and fabric as it involves machine and hand sewing, followed by a very messy gluing session.  In the end, it's the painting that's the easiest part.

Tartuffo

Tartuffo is a wonderful gelato involving different combinations of chocolate, cocoa powder, chocolate sauce, chocolate shavings...you get the idea. It is a specialty of one of my favourite Calabrian towns, Pizzo. Each gelateria--and there are many-- in the town square has its own spin on making a Tartuffo. My spin on my experience of Pizzo is partially captured in this large, 48 x 36 inch painting.

This composition, like the others in my Calabria Series, began with fabrics and photo transfers.  I really liked it as a textile piece and deliberated for a long while whether I should simply present it as such.  I had thought I would stitch it to a linen support and then stretch it like a canvas.  In the end, I decided that as I am a painter rather than a textile artist, I should glue it to a canvas and use it as the basis for a painting.  I added more fabric elements to the original composition in order for it to fit the large canvas I had on hand in my studio.  Waste not want not!

If you look closely, you will see an elderly signora gazing out the window of her apartamento to the square below, where a small family of Canadiensi are seated at a gelateria,  savouring their first ever taste of Tartuffo.

Another one for the Calabria Series.  For a change, I used a figure rather than only architectural features.  This was a lady I viewed from an upstairs window as she was leaving the Saturday market with a big box of groceries on her head.  The photo in the upper left is a shop closed up for the noontime rest.  I wanted to keep the colours very muted, old, faded, and yet still rich, while showing up the crumbling textures of the buildings and the patina of centuries' worth of daily living.

I am as pleased as punch with myself because I have made a large painting (48 x 36 inches). 

La Chiesa

Finally I get to use my gold paint!  Italians love gold.  (I remember my grandparents' living room.)

This was the interim stage.  There was one between this one and the one below but I forgot to take a picture.  It looks pretty good here, in the photo.  I like it.  But standing in front of the real thing today, it wasn't working for me. It wasn't cohesive.

I started with two coats of background colours, using a roller.  What a trip to paint on a canvas with a roller!  I've been missing out all these years. 

I spent many hours hand stitching the fabric "collage" together, using lots of gold threads.  I sewed it together probably a year ago, not knowing what I was going to do with it.  I thought it would have to be a piece of textile art but couldn't find a satisfactory way of hanging it.  I've also had two 48 x 36 inch canvasses taking up space in my studio for about a year.  Recently the penny dropped:  I  realized I could beef up the original fabric collage with more scraps of material so that it would fill the large canvas, and use it for the Calabria Series. 

I don't know why, but this painting reminds me of a wedding cake.  I hope the "prison bars" don't have anything to do with this impression!  Help yourself to a piece:

Here's a list of the ingredients, in reverse order:

To tell you the truth, when I was sorting back through my photos of the stages of this painting, I wasn't sure that this was the fabric collage that I had started with.  I guess I surprised even myself with where I took it.  At some point, I found myself compelled to add a bright green around the edge of the canvas. I covered it over with a deep blue wash, but it took the tone of the painting in a whole other direction.