Archives for posts with tag: Artists Studio

The late paintings of De Kooning have always fascinated me. Here a man with alzheimer’s who has painted all his life continues to paint when he is detached and unaware of the outside world around him and yet still paints with consistently and with coherence! I went to a big exhibition of his at Pompidou Paris what a rush, I was just out of college and all my conceits about modernism and the abstract painters were called to question briefly. I saw the late paintings much later but respect to the geezer, after Alzheimer’s was diagnosed in his late eighties in the following years he painted more than 300 abstract paintings!

De Kooning was declared unfit to handle his affairs 22 years ago, shortly after the death of his wife, Elaine. From that time, information ceased to be available about artworks in his possession, including those still being worked on. His oeuvre was controlled primarily by Lisa de Kooning, his only child and heir; attorney John Eastman, the son of de Kooning’s longtime attorney Lee Eastman; and John Silberman, an attorney who represented Lisa and Eastman in their court application to be appointed as de Kooning’s conservators and later represented his estate. Lisa, Eastman, and Silberman largely determined how the artist’s works were cared for, exhibited, and sold during the last eight years of his life and after his death at the age of 92. 

When the estate was closed, in 2003, the foundation received 1,344 works, valued at $53.7 million. Lisa received works of an unspecified quantity and value and began collaborating with Gagosian to exhibit and sell them. “A lot of the good things are picked over,” says a source familiar with Lisa’s collection, which primarily contains paintings from the ’60s through the late ’80s. “The de Kooning estate is really just a name. There is volume but not necessarily quality.”

The foundation’s collection—which contains works of all periods, predominantly works on paper and a collection of paintings from the 1960s onward, including a significant number of 1980s paintings—is thought to be considerably more valuable than its initial valuation. This collection has never been represented by a dealer.

According to its IRS filings, three years ago the foundation sold a 1987 painting for $3.4 million (reported inventory value: $199,750); around the same time, it sold a 1984 painting for $3.9 million (reported inventory value: $246,750). Silberman won’t disclose who bought the works but says that the foundation does not sell to dealers or at auction.
Since its establishment in 2001, the foundation has sold 18 works for a total of $13 million. Silberman says that works are sold to pay for the administration of the foundation—whose stated purpose is to catalogue and maintain its own collection and archive and facilitate museum exhibitions and scholarly research about de Kooning. (Or, as Eastman describes its mission: “De Kooning is the greatest American artist ever. Prove it.”)

You can draw your own conclusions about their actions in the matter, but whatever the truth of his last years watching a video of this frail and vulnerable old man going instinctively about his painting struck a cord.

Untitled XII

Willem de Kooning
Date: 1983
Medium: Paintings
Size: unframed 80 x 70 x inches
Institution: Walker Art Center

“Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens.” –Carl Gustav Jung

Bali House Paintings. For 2 decades Pete Nevin sold paintings to Rock Stars, European Royalty, Collectors world wide, museums, then in the 90’s he decided to never paint again but now he is going back on his word!



2 Bali Paintings

This painting from Lotus Cafe Garden Ubud

Supporting Courseware

“Style is something you can use, and you can be like a magpie,  just taking what you want.  The idea of the rigid style seemed to me then something you needn’t concern yourself with, it would trap you.”

–David Hockney

David Hockney’s philosophy on art appears to be perfectly manifesting itself in his personal style above. In his younger days, there was this cool juxtaposition between the artsy-fartsy, graphic form of the harsh, black-framed glasses and Warhol-ian mop-top, mixed with his rumpled, old school ease from the neck down–  prepster rugby shirt, chinos and battered tennis shoes.  Style– Just take what you want, don’t let it trap you.

Source of some of the photo’s and text is:

This photo by Peter Schlesinger taken in 1970 is a personal favourite of Lottie and mine. A newspaper cutting was on our kitchen wall in London for ages until it faded. Hockney was an inspiration to a working class boy who managed to enter the hallowed halls of the RCA. Although it has not always been ‘trendy’ as an artist to say so, I like him and whatever I feel about some of his work, I love his style and posing. He still inspires and I don’t give a fuck what people think, way to go David. Check out the socks.

It is 50 years since David Hockney graduated from the Royal College of Art wearing a gold lamé jacket. Within a few years he had earned a reputation as an enfant terrible whose risqué autobiographical work touched upon the taboo subject of homosexuality. With his oversized spectacles and hair dyed silvery blond, he became Brit art’s first celebrity: a charmer whose personality beguiled the public as much as his work.

Fast-forward half a century, and Hockney is still feted and adored. He shed his skin of provocative wunderkind long ago, fashioning instead a role as a plain-speaking chain-smoker specialising in common sense.

A Bigger Splash was required viewing on our Foundation Course at Mid Cheshire School of Art. I loved it, it seemed so happening smelt of London and provocative life styles. I decided then that I would go to the RCA!

Andy Warhol TV! Love the titfer, David ‘Just William’ or what?

The Hockney Poser continues

Celia and OssiePrint By Celia Birtwhistle

In 1996, 54 year old Ossie was stabbed to death in his council flat in Kensington and Chelsea, London,[1] by his then 28 year old Italian former lover, Diego Cogolato.[2] Cogolato was convicted of manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility and jailed for six years. Wikipedia

Sixties or What, Georgie Best, Ossie Clarke, Kings Road, Carnaby Street, Swingeing London, Mars Bars, Mick Jagger, Keith Richard, the list could go on and on.

footage from what was until recently an uniquely simple film. It’s called ‘Football as Never Before’ – the East German director Hellmuth Costard and the rest of his crew; Manfred Treutel, Stanislav Szomolányi
Dieter Matzka, Fritz Schwennicke,
Wolfgang Fischer, Jürgen Jürges and
Peter Kaiserhad; trained their 16mm cameras exclusively on George Best before, during and after Manchester United played Coventry City in a league game at Old Trafford on the 12th of September 1970.

This Film was a precursor to Douglas Gordan’s Zidane film,

As a Chelsea fan it grates to put M Utd on a blog so here is the goal you have all been waiting for; Osgood is good.

Check out Jackie Charltons friendly nudge!!

My hero at the time was Alan Hudson

IN THE EARLY Sixties, London was already ‘swinging’, and as far as the arts were concerned, almost anything seemed to be possible. London was fast becoming an epicentre for the weird and the wonderful.

At the highly fashionable Royal College of Art, David Hockney was buying his gold lame jacket and Ken Russell was filming Pop Goes the Easel. Over in the RCA’s recently established school of Film & TV Design (which later mutated into The Film School) a group of students were being approached by the executive producer of Tempo, an arts programme produced by ABC Television and screened on Sunday afternoons. He invited them to take over a studio, to write, direct, produce – and act – in their own programme, the inventing and making of a television comment. At that time, it was a first, but even forty years later, it might still be regarded as pretty progressive.

I loved Pop goes the Easel-Ken Russel, then years later Derek Boshier [more in another post] interviewed at my entrance examine to the RCA.

This excerpt of Pauline Boty is mad, love it. Great name!

TateShots Issue 6- Pauline Boty

Once a Print-maker always a Print-maker, I was introduced to Printmaking on my Foundation course and went on to study it at Leeds [then Polytechnic] and the Royal College of Art the department was in Exhibition Road behind the V&A, it was run by Alastair Grant and Alf Dunn. Alastair produced the paintings for ‘The Rebel’ starring Tony Hancock.

The Rebel, a Technicolor movie shot at Elstree, was directed by Robert Day and featured a number of major British actors. Day (b. 1922) is not one of the world’s best known directors. He began his film career as a cameraman and before The Rebel he made comedy, horror and space movies. Afterwards he directed Tarzan films and then worked more and more for television. The Rebel’s script was written by Galton and Simpson from an original story by themselves and Tony Hancock. The musical score was supplied by Frank Cordell, who is known to art and design historians as one of the members of the Independent Group of the ICA who met in the early 1950s to discuss popular culture. The competent paintings seen in the film were executed by Alistair Grant, an artist exhibiting in London in the 1950s.

Back to the Gold Lame jacket;,6,POI.html


And to today:

This one is for Fritz and Otto

Paper Pools

This is for Annie and Mikel in memory of a great day at Salts Mill 2011

And one last print for the PrintMakers of the world

For me Hockney is a great printmaker not that his paintings are not worthy but his prints are better, but then I am biased I am a printmaker!

Pete Nevin Jakarta 2012


 discard art of social politics for an unavoidable acceptance of late-capitalism; make a lot of money

In 1979 art critic Achille Bonito Oliva coined a new term Transavantguadia (or “Beyond the Avant Garde”) to describe a group of young Italian artists he saw as “moving beyond” the conceptual and politically-driven work predominant in Italian modernism through the late ‘60s and ‘70s. This loosely gathered group of artists included Francesco Clemente, Mimmo Paladino and Sandro Chia amongst others, whose work can be viewed as a rejection of political or ideological messages in a work, and a revival/return to traditional painting techniques and the subjective, impressionist touch of the romantic painter.

Where will this ‘metabolization’ of images take Chia? One wonders if the return to classicism as a rebuke to conceptual art’s “progress for progress’s sake” remains more than conservativeness or is actually able to maintain an active relationship through the “depolitization” of the canvas thirty years later. Isn’t the Transavantgarde’s gesture to “go beyond” simply emblematic of a postmodernizing trend of art in the 80s: to discard art of social politics for an unavoidable acceptance of late-capitalism? In seeking to surpass the conceptual avant-garde, Chia’s work remixes images at will (simulacra), while apolitically affirming subjectivity and individuality all in a fairly lucrative and stable mode. We can take pleasure in the self-exploration taking place through these works while also acknowledging their status as the harbinger of Art as an socially uncritical commodity. As his son stated, Chia “quotes the greats from history, makes a lot of money. ”2

1 Benson, Timothy, review: The New Art of Italy, Cinncinatti. The Burlington Review, Mar. 1986
2 Interview with author, 11/24/09
Interviewed by
Johan Falkman



in art + kulture, painting by — November 2, 2010 at 7:49 pm

Entering Clemente’s vast Broadway loft is like opening the gates to an old grave chamber in which time is dissolved; the invisible barriers that normally separate past and present, the feeling of then and now, are pulverized like old newsprint, leaving but a musty scent of decomposition, mixed with the smell of oil mediums, turpentine, and various toxins –cigarette smoke, dust and lacquered wood.

This Broadway loft, his studio, is the embodiment of Clemente’s sensitive response to life, to literature, to religion, philosophy and mysticism. This, in turn, echoes his yearning for the harmony created when balancing opposing elements and phenomena that are contained within the human constitution: the physical and the metaphysical intertwined. His latest series of paintings that are attached to the columns supporting the ceiling – huge canvases – deal primarily with physical and metaphysical bonding, received through mental and sexual interventions.
Clemente’s paintings deal with the self, a self defined by one’s sexual desires and the yearning for harmony, security and “protection,” as Clemente would term it, against the grain of society, and against Satan, as described by Blake: The unprolific and opaque whose realm of obscurity devoid people of their speech.

Johan Falkman: In your work from the early eighties one senses a feeling of alienation. There seems to be a dialogue – a silent lovemaking – between the two opposing sides of your inner self: the unhampered warrior and the unborn mystic. How would you describe these two sides of yourself and their relationship?
Francesco Clemente: I don’t know if I can describe any aspect of myself, but I can definitely look at the strategy of my own work and describe what that strategy has been. My goal has always been to treat what is harsh with tenderness and what is tender with harshness.

Could this be seen as a reversed love-relationship between the two opposites, or is there a silent war going on between the two aspects?
The proliferation of the self, the one splitting in two is the very source of any endeavor. It was described in the past by the word Symbolon. The original meaning of Symbolon is a broken coin that is split between two friends at the time of their separation. Thus the word Symbolon evokes a sense of longing.  This in turn can be seen as a metaphor for giving and receiving, penetrating and being penetrated, seeing and being seen, underlying themes that you will find in many images of my work.

My goal has always been to treat what is harsh with tenderness and what is tender with harshness.

In the painting “Unborn” you have depicted yourself asleep inside the body of a tiger. To me the tiger seems to represent uproar, strength and the offensive side of your personality. I also see it as a challenge to the surrounding world. Could you tell us about the tiger? Who is this creature that seems to protect your slumbering alter ego?
You neglect to mention that the tiger is in a cage (longer pause). A painting is always a meeting place of many stories and various emotional registers. Very often the excuse for a painting will come from something one heard. Like a poem. In this case I happen to remember what the poem was. It is written by Sandro Penna, a tormented and gentle bohemian figure in Rome during the 1950’s. The poem says:

I wish I lied asleep

In the center of the heart

Of the world I wish

I had never been born at all.
There is also an element of humor, I hope, in what I make. To declare yourself a tiger and then to declare yourself a tiger in a cage and to declare yourself as this urbane creature asleep in the heart of this inexpressible violence is a paradox. And a paradox is always key to sense.

Behind us is one of your later self-portraits that was exhibited in New York a few years ago; you are depicted inside the vagina – the painting makes one think of Courbet’s the origin of the World – and it appears as though you are finally allowing yourself to be delivered into world, having matured for close to 30 years. Is this a correct interpretation, or are you perhaps still encaged inside the tiger?
I don’t believe in maturity. There is always room for the next mistake. The focus of this work should rather be seen as dealing with the “gate” that separates the outside world from the inner-world. Actually, we don’t really know if we are being born or if we are being absorbed anew, in to the inner world. We are standing on a threshold, not sure in which direction the tide is taking us.

That’s a wonderful metaphor for life and death. Would you describe your relationship to death? What are your thoughts on death, and I don’t specifically speak of our physical death?
Death is really the impulse that has led me to returning, over and over again, to the self-portrait as a reflection on impermanence, the impermanence of the self rather then the continuation of the self.

Our impermanence is something most of us find hard to accept. Recognition of the fact seems to contradict our nature. You are not only talking about the impermanence of the flesh – our bodies – but you are talking about the impermanence of the self, the seizing of thought, feeling and awareness. To make this a primary issue in one’s work demands an acceptance of the way of nature that many find hard to reconcile with. It demands strength. How would you define strength?
Strength to me is the feminine side of the world in terms of adaptability. To be able to adapt to change is a feminine quality. The quality of movement, conferred to the rigidity of the male side.

So the male is weaker?
Balance is the outcome of movement not of stillness.

You have depicted Purgatory—hell—in several of your paintings; perhaps the “underworld” is a better term. Wouldn’t you say that hell is a place within you, to which you can retreat? Hell is generally perceived of as a place for the rejected, and according to your perception of Hell, it can offer acceptance to those alienated; it’s a place for the outcasts. Do you see yourself as an advocate for the rejected, for the outcasts, not embraced by society?
But who is the outcast? The outcast is a person who has been stripped of his means of expression. In that sense, we are all outcasts.

Who then, deprives us of our means of expression?
It is Satan, in the sense of the opaque. William Blake talked about Satan as the unprolific and the opaque. The social dynamics of Satan have no heads, no tails, no beginning and no end. They create this obscurity that deprives us of our speech.

You are embraced by the American art scene – viewed by many as an American icon – but also looked upon as the man who turned the development of art in the “wrong” direction. Why?
Maybe every new artist is initially rejected when he exposes new aspects of vulnerability, of fragility. This goes against the grain of product, and “product” as you know, is the respectable cipher of our time. Vulnerability and weakness are viewed with suspicion. On the other hand America is not only the birthplace of consumerism but also the land of great mystic poets from Whitman to Allen Ginsberg via Ezra Pound, all of them prophets of fragility.

Wouldn’t you say that your friend and collaborator Andy Warhol was then in fact an opponent of yours, going, as he did, with the grain of product?
For Warhol “product” was just subject matter, certainly not a formal solution.

You collaborated on several canvases with both Warhol and Basquiat. Did you grow and develop from this collaboration or did it minimize your true expression – your unique voice?
Since I am a believer in the multiplicity of the self I can easily include others in my endeavors without feeling threatened. I am already more than one person when I do what I do.

Your visualization of sexuality, an eerie combination of your physical desires and your inner vision of your sexual desires, creates an underworld fantasy. Would you explain this relationship?
There are many traditions that have adopted lovemaking as the metaphor of spiritual quest and spiritual fulfillment. It’s a tradition of image-making that has been there from the very beginning, starting in the East. But you don’t necessarily have to look at the East to find out that the flame of Heaven and flame of Hell are one and the same. It is just the interpretation of our perception that changes it. On a mundane level these images may question timidly the given classification and determination of sexual preferences and attitudes.

Are we happy with that?
There are countless occasions when we don’t know who we are and we don’t know what we want. There are countless emotions and feelings that have no name in our vocabulary. Paintings cannot give names to these experiences, but they can remind us that they exist and are legitimate.  Maybe what an artist does is to offer a path of expression to those willing to travel on it. Thought is not a weapon. It doesn’t fight. It doesn’t go in a straight line to break against the wall of dogmas defining our age. It just takes an oblique path around it.

%d bloggers like this: