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Open Studios are fun. The problem - if you like them - is: they're quite confidential. Open studio season is a little bit like high school musical season. It comes in the spring and in the fall and it lasts only one weekend with very little publicity so that by the time you realize it happened, it's all over. Bummer. Unless ... said the Lorax, unless you have a good friend who's part of the exhibiting community and reminds you of your friendly duties. That was our case.
Last weekend we attended the Hunters Point Shipyard Artists spring 2009 open studios. This weekend, Marin open
That's where Teresa Seran, New York city transplant turned San Francisco-based mixed media painter, practices her art. Standing in front of her latest series, she explained to me how a whirlwind of regular and metallic paints lived their own life on acetate-covered canvases. Teresa is a conceptual artist and gets much of her inspiration from roaming the Tus
I'd never seen her studio before so that was enlightening and my girls loved picking their "favorites" describing what the paintings actually represented. That's the beauty of abstract art. It felt just like an art gallery on a smaller scale.
Other studios were very different. In fact, they were each their own different microcosm. Take Deborah Hayner, one of the most intriguing of the lot. Entering her studio felt like walking through a Macau Portuguese chapel except the priest has gone bezerk and lights up old dollies next to votives and old photographs.
As much as a lot of what we saw was deeply conventional, Hayner's art definitely stood out because it was fun and unconventional. Go check out her website's installations page, it's well worth the click. Very Joseph Cornell-ish.
Her object "Sweet Talk" is a metallic carousel of glass plates printed with red lips and out of each pair of lips comes out a bug. Talk about weird. She also has a weakness for Hunter Thompson (see typewriter at the bottom). I would have liked to see more of that type of funky thinking than pretty flowers in pots or trees on skyline backdrops.
Walking the lo
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She describes herself as "exploring the dynamic interplay between transparent and opaque elements, often applying her colors in dozens of layers to achieve the particular depth and radiance she desires." True, her paintings did have a silky depth and looked like they were springing out of the canvas.
Because it's my pet peeve, I think she'd make a wonderful children's book illustrator. Or would she? I asked that same question to Carol Aust featured above. Had she considered illustrating books for children? As a matter of fact, she had. However "publishing houses don't like to work with f
In a completely different category was Jenny Robinson, a Borneo-born UK transplant now living in San Francisco. She makes gigantic prints featuring derelict and mundane industrial or city structures. I find her prints absolutely fascinating. In her studio there was also a sort of super-rollercoaster that would have made a great set for Dark City. I wonder if her enlarged or projected scenes would be good backdrops for modern ballets. Probably would.
By the way, Ms. Robinson is a very tech-savvy person or knows one - I was not able to copy a work
Now, next time you see there's an open studio event in your neighborhood, don't be shy. Go through that doorstep. Artists are nice people. They don't bite. They're not necessarily trying to sell you their art. They want to show it to you. The rest is up to you.