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Studio Visit Magazine ~ 2014

My work has been selected for inclusion in the 2014 issue of Studio Visit Magazine, a juried annual collection of art from around the United States. You’ll find a couple of my most popular paintings on pages 158-9, along with examples of  work from about 150 other contemporary artists working in a wide variety of media and styles.

You can get a copy of Studio Visit here. Be sure to ask for Volume 26.

Studio Visit Magazine

 

A Secret Passage Way

The ongoing Facebook project ‘A Secret Passage Way’ has been published with more than 50 photographs spanning the world and it is quite wonderful ~ if I may say so. All our success!

Late last night we finished posting the digital exhibition of ‘A Secret Passage Way’ on BerkshireFineArts. (BFA) It is there today in first position under articles and will rotate with others in the project space on the home page. It can quickly be accessed under Projects, where it will remain.

Now, the second FaceBook page also named Astrid A. Hiemer will also remain dedicated to the passages project. As I wrote in the introduction to the photo exhibition, several photos still have to be reposted to FB, because they ‘disappeared.’ I realized that fact, while searching my FB-pages and will do so asap. First things, first!
 
There may be small changes that some of you may ask for. I was not sure of all the countries in which participants live/work.
 
So, let us all celebrate! It has been a truly enriching four months, while the project grew and we had many email, FB, or personal exchanges and conversations about the project, art and life in general.

Here now the direct link to the BFA article/project:
~ Astrid Heimer

Approval Not Required

Shane Koyczan has delivered a powerful, articulate video that will not fail to touch you, I promise. More than that, it will probably shift your perspective at least a little bit, give it a nudge in the direction of compassion, strength, resiliency. It may help you to reclaim a power you thought you’d lost or never knew you had. Or it might help you to see the power in someone else that you hadn’t recognized before.
That’s a lot to promise in 7 minutes and 37 seconds, but give it a watch, then come back and let’s talk.

 

I don’t know about you personally, but I suspect there’s a bully lurking under somewhere under the skin of most of us. Since we are civilized to one degree or another, we keep it under wraps where we think it can do no harm in the outside world. But we’re wrong about that.

Just as a child who finds herself mocked and ridiculed in the classroom is unlikely to contribute, we too, when life calls on us, are often afraid to answer. Not because we don’t understand the question or have nothing to offer, but because the bully inside us, we already know, is going to have a field day the moment we raise our hands. The instant a response begins to form, even before we shuffle our feet, the spitwads begin to fly.

And they come from inside us.

It is better, safer, wiser to shut down. The smart thing to do with an idea, an insight or opinion, a solution to a problem, an answer we know is beyond correct because it is simply, deeply, fundamentally right, is not to call attention to it.

This internal bullying goes by a lot of names, most of them overly respectful. But a bully is NOT a filter, an editor, a critic, a second thought or an inhibition. It’s just another frightened kid that I carry around inside me, wanting approval where none, after all, was ever required.

My Drum, My Beat, My Reality

My Drum, My Beat, My Reality

 

To connect with Shane Koyczan on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ShaneKoyczanPoetry

From Where I Stand

Enormous public  trompe l’oeils delight me. I admire the bravado, the precision and adaptability required to pull off a painting hundred, even tens of thousands of feet square across uneven and degraded surfaces exposed to the elements, in front of onlookers. I admire the collaborative spirit and the patience it takes to rally the cooperation of a supportive public and to woo the approval, too, of elected officials, appointed municipal bureaucrats and union street sweepers. All that support for a vision, a dream, an ephemerality that often lasts only until the next good downpour!

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I admire it all from afar, as a jpeg on my computer screen. I have not yet had the opportunity to stand at that one fixed spot at which the perspective of such an undertaking all makes perfect visual sense, where all the receding angles line up to convince the eye that the pavement underfoot has given way to a canyon, a sea, a topsy-turvy view of the sky.

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Still, these brave artists reach me, teach me, touch me through the unimaginable complexity of human community, through the miracle of intelligence broken down into and reassembled from electronic impulses, digitized and pixelated time and again as they are shared, liked, tweeted, pinned, blogged and reblogged.

 

I stand in awe of us.

I stand connected, overwhelmed, bombarded and alone, in my fixed location, from my singular point of view. For one fleeting moment, until I click away, I share that point of view with a camera in Amsterdam, Venice, Dallas, Walla Walla, Brisbane or Tunis.

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I find that I am capable—through the miracle of thought broken down into and reassembled from the vibrations of vocal chords, tongue clicks and glottal stops translated into squiggled symbols and transmitted across time and space, language and culture, we are all capable—of sharing the points of view of strangers raised and educated in ways we do not fathom. For a moment, at least, if I stand just so, at one fixed location on a whirling planet amid a dizzying billions of galaxies, I get to see and understand the complexity of another human being’s vision as it snaps into place for me.

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If I shift one foot to the left or right, I begin to see discrepancies that disillusion the eye. If I stand aside, I do not understand the vision at all. Truthfully, I don’t even have to move. I can do that with the mind, holding the “reality” of the literal environment and the “illusion” of the painting together simultaneously.

And I can begin to learn from that experience a little of what it means to see the world from points of view I’ve never clung to as my own. I stand connected and corrected, as one of a community of billions, even as the world appears to crumble underfoot and leave me stranded, because I can hold in mind that human isolation, too, is just a trick of perspective.

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!! Save The Date !!

Newton Open Studios 2014 will be here soon.
Please join me for a light “all day” lunch at my studio for once a year sale where I will showcase my newest work.
Dates: April 5 & 6, 2014
Time: 11 AM – 5 PM
Location: The Painted Lady in Newton
The Painted Lady was dressed in snow on the mailed invitation.
If the snow hasn’t melted by April, you will still recognize her.
We hope she will be flaunting her colors by April!
 open studios house    house in winter
PAINTED LADY FOR RENT
In the heart of the Highlands! Minutes to Green Line “D” Stations, restaurants, shops & parks!
Stunning renovated multi-million dollar Victorian features fabulous great room, spacious kitchen open to dining room, high ceilings, lots of windows, wood floors, central air, plentiful closets, front porch & rear deck and gorgeous grounds!
King-sized master has private, tiled bathroom.
In unit laundry.
Extra storage in basement.
Security system and landscaping included.
FIRST FLOOR
2,200 SQUARE FEET
3+ BEDROOMS
2 BATHS
WALK TO T
BEAUTIFUL WOODWORK
HIGH CEILINGS
PARKING 2 CARS
INTERESTED?

See photos at

151 Lincoln St, Unit 1, Newton, MA 02461 (MLS # 71625540)

Mary Ann Figoni CRG Realty Group

QUESTIONS?
Rosenberg Art Studio
153 Lincoln Street
Newton Highlands MA 02461
rosenberg-tel-no

 

 

A Review of Babylonian Voices

My friend Vin Jensen recently reviewed my “Babylonian Voices” paintings at Art Slash Life. Below is a reprint of his take on the series.

Babylonian Voices

If, in the mind of God, a thousand years is as a day, then we’ve known for only a minute or two that languages are as permanent as icebergs; yet we continue to forget that our children do not understand us, nor we them, that every grammarian is self-appointed, that the Tower of Babel rises and falls on a regular basis, like the breath of a generation, that each of us, come right down to it, speaks a dialect entirely her own, his own, my own.

The stories spun by an ancient tribesman hunkered against the onslaught of forces incomprehensible to the science of his time, continue to inform my fearful, my joyous, my awestruck imagination. The incantations of a televangelist dead these several decades still flourishes a wand in my unconscious, conducting my cadences. The opposable thumbs of upright teenagers text the essential grunts, squees and LOLs that served a clan of vagabonds on the savannah only, by God’s clock, the day before yesterday.

These five canvases of Ann Salk Rosenberg, her “Babylonian Voices” series, tell a perennial tale. They speak abstractedly of human atrocities waged against the “other” for the sake of its otherness. They document the isolation of the soul from its body of knowledge. They encipher a secret we hold dear, whispering that you and I are one and the same. They weep that we still don’t know it. Speech, Rosenberg reminds us, is a paradigm, a model of the world that we mistake for the world itself. We used to believe that if you can’t say it, you can’t think it, and we built dystopias around that model of the mind.

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AR-Babylonian_Voices_#2

 

AR_Babylonian_Voices_#3

 

AR_Babylonian_Voices_#4

 

AR_Babylonian_Voices_#5

In the world of Babylonian Voices #1, the world is made up of one family. We don’t look, act or think alike. Our worship practices differ. Our morals and mores differ. But under the skin of each of us beats the same heart. It is our hearts that tie us together and bind our different voices across time and culture. The family in this painting is cohesive – joined together by their touching squares. The circles within the squares represent the voices that softly sing out to one another, each ringing with the harmonious sounds of family and love. This is the beginning of a new world, one where we all accept each other and work together.

The extended world family shared one voice and built a great tower together, but in Babylonian Voices #2, the tower has tipped. The squares that previously lived together harmoniously are falling and changing. The circles that represent the individual voices get bigger, louder and farther apart; they morph, twirl and spread out until they cover the four corners of the earth. The world is no longer the same. Connections are broken.

Minimal order and cohesion remains in Babylonian Voices #3. There is neither black (emptiness and the absence of everything) nor white (the presence of every possibility) in this world. Everyone is struggling to make a place for themselves. There is not even time for bickering. Everyone is acting independently, trying to survive and find his and her own way, barely recognizing the ancient bonds of family or tribe. The whole world is topsy-turvy.

Babylonian Voices #4 shows how the world now has areas of stress. This tension reveals itself in the black that is reappearing. No longer satisfied with their/our place in the world, the jockeying has begun. The need of the individual to be the best, own the most, have the power and control the others has emerged.

In Babylonian Voices #5 we have arrived at a crossroad, an opportunity. There is the hint of a meeting place forming in the middle. Will enough of us gather and unite? Or will we compete and be left with winners and losers? The outcome is left to the viewer’s imagination. We all share responsibility for what comes next. What do you want? Are you willing to speak out? Do you share the Babylonian dream of a world working together? Can you imagine a new way? Can we influence what happens next?

~Ann Salk Rosenberg

We keep outliving our prophecies even as we keep fulfilling them. We break our contract with the divine because we’ve discovered print too fine to read with the naked eye, then finer than that, and finer still. And because we have broken faith with our own divinity, and with the divine principle that you and I are two Mendelian peas in a pod, we use that fine print to dismantle the fabric of the universe. We have broken our word. And the Word was God. And so we begin again, in our own image, creating and destroying the languages by which we live, making and unmaking our minds, our maps, our memories.

We are unholy gods, and we have built new syntaxes, new rules to govern a minor universe of machines that they might think together, faster and more thoroughly than we can think for ourselves. They update one another while we sleep and dream our separate dreams, tap-tap-tapping at the door to the collective unconscious.

Do I read all this into the inscrutable march of squares and circles across one canvas and into the triangulated chaos of another? Being literate, I do. Being human and participatory in the enigmatic processes of creation and destruction, a meaning-maker and a manager of my own mystery, I must.

By looking and saying, by pointing at the commonality of our idiosyncrasies, at the whimsical nature of our separatist tendencies, I, you, we, this painter named Ann in all her specificity, may come together in the blink of an eye and construct the human universe anew, watch it unfold its inter-coordinated purposes, its mysterious origami, the magic of its meaning.

Monkey Face and Tippe-canoe

We lost two kitties this past year. Monkey Face was a York Chocolate, a breed that originated in the United States. Monks was very much my kitty and followed me around like a puppy dog. His kidneys began to fail when he was 13. The sicker he got the closer he kept. Near the end he was sleeping on my pillow by my head.
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Tippe-canoe had bone cancer and heart failure. She was a Ragdoll kitty and quite a regal animal. She put herself to bed every night promptly at 8 pm, and on December 30, she closed her eyes to the world at her regular time, right at 8. She was Larry’s cat as much as Monk was mine. We miss them both so much.
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Why Screw Around?

I paint exclusively with Golden Heavy Body Acrylic Paint. Nothing else gives me the rich, saturated color that I need. I use a 1/2″ Utrecht artificial fiber brush, and I find that Golden Heavy Body cleans up nicely without destroying my brushes. It mixes beautifully to create the vibrant colors I need, and it never clumps or runs. I keep lots of recipes for mixing colors I tend to use often, and I mix batches of those I know I’ll need for a work-in-progress and store them in little glass jars, spritzing them with a little water now and then to keep them workable.

Golden also has great customer service, including a help line that is top notch. They have bailed me out whenever I’ve needed support for technical issues.

Drink My Art

Your Name + My Painting = A Great Mug

Morgan's Mug
Morgan’s Mug by AlphabetArtStudio

The design for these mugs is taken from my “Babylonian Voices” series, in which I imagine the original human language that preceded the confusion of languages at the Tower of Babel. If you don’t see your name (or the name of someone you’d like to honor with a personalized gift), just send me a note and include the name, and I’ll design a mug just for you!

Samples Sale!

Were $2700. Now reduced to $750!

These 40″x40” gallery wrapped giclees have hung in our gallery and have been displayed at shows.

All are individually signed and numbered from limited edition print runs of 100 in good condition on heavy canvas and sturdy stretchers with UV protection. We are selling them below cost.

You won’t see these prices again.

Pick yours up at my studio in Newton, or we will meet you within 50 miles of Newton in any direction–except the Atlantic Ocean! UPS shipping is not included at this special price.

Reserve yours now before they’re gone!

Call 617-543-3456 or contact Rosenberg Art Studio today.