Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Renaissance on Acid?

Posted by Member Artist, Sudie Rakusin

I am a classically trained painter, but I have taken detours into other media as well. I have spent years creating papier mâché creatures, ranging from one foot to several feet in dimension, as well as masks, bowls, frames, and tables; I have several of my multi-media Journey Books on display in the gallery (these are 3-D works I create in the pages of recycled paper blank journals); and, of course, I draw. For the past several years, I have felt like I was heading somewhere new, somewhere I had never been before. All I knew was that it was going to involve painting on canvas (I painted on paper for awhile a few years back) and that the canvases were going to be large. I even updated my studio with this new project in mind, even though I did not know exactly what the project was going to be.

I moved from a time when I was working almost exclusively in papier mâché into a time when I was having a model come to my studio about once a month so I could draw her on large paper. I have a year’s worth of these pencil portraits adorning the walls of my studio. At the same time, I was learning how to create the Journey Books, creating small paintings in the pages that also included pockets, doors, and windows that looked onto other pages; layering on tissue paper, fringe, lace; adorning with beads; creating truly interactive pieces of art that allowed someone to hold my art in their hands and discover the secrets I’d hidden throughout. Eventually, the drawings progressed into large images of women from my imagination surrounded by flowers or animals.

And then, about a year ago, all of the drawing and the three-dimensional work and the working large coalesced and I made my first leap toward the “new” thing with this piece.


This canvas isn’t as large as I had in mind, but I was testing things out, seeing what I could do, what boundaries I could push. How much dimension could I create through painting alone, and how much did I want to add onto the surface of the painting that truly existed in three dimensions? And, since I no longer wanted to be confined by the straight lines of a traditional canvas, how could I break out of the rectangle and create something more flowing, more organic?

After I finished this first piece, I hung it on the wall in my living room and began to see all the possibilities for where this new avenue could take me. There was the possibility of doors with secret paintings behind, room for beads and crystals and fused glass. I could sculpt three-dimensional flowers from papier mâché right on the canvas so they would leap out of the image!




I am finishing the sixth piece in this series (that's #5 above), and each one has been wilder and more experimental than the last. I am loving every minute of the planning and scheming and the learning that goes into figuring out how to add new elements (wait ‘til you see the current piece—let’s just say it’s electric!), and I love that I am painting again. I live with each piece for several months, and each one propels me toward the next.

Recently, the phrase “Renaissance on Acid” came to me. That’s what I feel these pieces are. They take my classical, Renaissance style training and they use all that I’ve learned about every media I’ve ever worked in and they explode in mind-trippy, intricately detailed, fabulously overwhelming, colorful creations. The style combines the old and the new and has me perfectly enraptured in the process.

So, Renaissance on Acid seems as good a description as any I can think of. The term describes, to me, where my art fits into the rest of the world. What do you think? I’d love to hear your feedback!