Syracuse and Spiritus Mundi

This story begins with artists: painters, sculptors, photographers, video and sound

artists. The plot will thicken in Syracuse, New York as artists participating in

the New York Foundation for the the Arts MARK10 program come together for the final

phase of the program.

During the retreat we will talk about the business of being an artist in the

auditorium of Light Work, the Robert B. Menschel Media Center and we will sleep (or not)
at the local Sheraton. Each participant is being asked to bring:

• A positive attitude

• 81 copies of a “one-sheet” with our details.

• Our blue binders- (this is the immeasurably helpful collection of assignments, essays and how-to articles NYFA has organized. The binder is a sort of analytic antidote to the, if not neurotic, then certainly idiosyncratic barricades visual artists work with when writing about and presenting their work).

• A writing pen- (our instructor, Amber Hawk Swanson thoughtfully made this distinction because as artists we have any number of "pens").
  

• Materials to show during one-on-one consultations with other artists, curators and gallerists. These “ingredients” include an artist statement and images of work. We may use a laptop to show images digitally or use our websites (if we have one) but we also must have an “offline” version in the event wifi is not available.
  

• Business cards or postcards of works with contact information.

• And finally, a swim suit, should we decide to swim in the indoor pool at the hotel.

I love being prepared. I have a feeling despite my best intentions, my digital

images, my website, my business cards, and my eighty-one "one-sheets," something is going to be left at home. Less predictable and more ambiguous, I plan to bring a security blanket-
an attitude of "Spiritus Mundi." It is a phrase from the William Butler Yeats poem, The Second

Coming.

Joan Didion used a line from the poem as a title- Slouching Toward Bethlehem -

her book of essays on the state of America during the sixties. Joni Mitchell

performed a song with the same title on her album, Night Ride Home- the lyrics also

adapted from the poem.

Spiritus Mundi, for Yeats, was the soul of the universe, a universal subconsciousness

connecting all individual souls and memories. Didion's book reported on modern America-

the spirit of our world at that moment, or more analytically the morals and mores of

the times.

In my case, Spiritus Mundi and yes, a swimsuit. How this story ends, who knows?

Preparing for an Artist's Talk

Troy MARK Artists' Talks

Throughout Spring 2010, 60 artists from five different regions of NYstate participated in MARK, a program of New York Foundation for the Arts. The Arts Center of the Capital Region, in its second year as a partnering organization with the MARK program invites you to attend artist talks by the 12 participating MARK artists in the Troy region.

Wednesday May 26, 2010 6p-8:15p

The Arts Center of the Capital Region (http://www.artscenteronline.org/)

265 River Street

Troy, NY 12180

I am one of the 12 artists in the Troy region preparing to give my first public talk. This is a rite of passage for most artists and yet public speaking- apart from subject consideration- is an art form all on it's own. I cringe recalling inexperienced public speakers and my harsh assessment of their skill. I marvel at speakers whom seem to hold the audience at rapt attention. What will happen when it's my turn; will I speak or will I fumble?

At the library I found a copy of Atul Gawande's "The Checklist Manifesto." I thought, "Ah, just what the doctor ordered!" Here was a little book with the subtitle: How to Get Things Right. Thinking that public speaking fit neatly in the category of "Things" I checked the book out. The book is terrific and while I have not exactly started a checklist, I do have a sense of preparing for the job at hand by breaking tasks down and methodically working on each.

Some tasks are more easily accomplished than others. For example, creating a work sample folder of images was easy if not a little boring. I found myself signing and reaching for the potato chips. Jotting down notes was also easy. Imagining myself in front of a room full of nice arty folk attempting to talk about my series, "Paintings for a Waiting Room," I feel clammy and like I'd rather take a ride on a rush hour train. Then I tell myself, "You can do anything for five minutes," this being an inspiring but somewhat daft phrase picked up at the gym during a difficult set of squats. While talking art and exercising may not be philosophically aligned, what the hell, this is my own private pep talk and I am telling myself, "You can do anything for five minutes.

My paintings evolve from a well of thought with questions like: What are we waiting for? How long should we wait? Why do we have to wait at all? Is waiting an opportunity for introspection or a waste of time? In Troy my goal is to connect these musings to my paintings and to make sense for the kind listeners.