|Cookbooks in Bed with Lover Sleeping on the Side|
9" X 6" Giclee Print, Edition of 25, $375
|Like a lucid dream: Henri Rousseau's The Sleeping Gypsy|
It's those toes on the footprintless sand ... the 3-D stripes of the robe ... the
beady eye of the lion ... the warped guitar strings ... brrrr!
The two women live in different cities so the work was created in a truly modern manner, this, from her site:
Sellers works from Krasner’s design elements, in various stages of completion, in order to generate brief narratives addressing women’s experiences as mothers, daughters, and friends. As Sellers submits new text and revisions, Krasner manipulates and reconfigures the images. Krasner employs a computer writing tablet, enabling her to draw and copy Sellers’ prose poems directly onto the work. The images are mailed back and forth (Krasner resides in Manhattan, Sellers in Holland, Michigan), reworked perhaps a dozen times ... [a] pictorial conversation between the two artists.
Some may find the subject matter a little gritty, but it's right up my alley, particularly Cookbooks in Bed with Lover Sleeping on the Side. Oh yes, I've been there. We legends-in-our-own-lunchtime cooks understand the seduction of what so many others view as an annoying chore. From nothing you create a work of edible art from materials cheaply purchased at a local store, the colors, shapes textures like paint, crayon and found objects; adding heat like a welder, molding and pinching like a sculptor, stirring and garnishing like a painter, finally framing it on a plate and presenting it to your waiting audience as basically, ephemera. And where some art leaves you cold, a well-executed dish affords a gut-felt satisfaction. Except, unlike the above works of art, it disappears until your create all over again.
Read a spatula's eye view of yours truly as a trainee line cook.
So you could argue that while a dish might cost $10, a work of art for $1000 will lasts indefinitely - certainly 100 times longer.
Jenny regaled us with a riveting art-meets-life story beginning at her father Oscar Krasner's fine art Chelsea gallery (circa 1956), winding through many countries, mediums and experiments - wielding a welding torch in a Jersey warehouse; being flanked by a very vocal nude gay yoga studio and another strange business I can't recall such that she could barely concentrate; switching to digital art because she could do it to a background of gay nude omming- and falling in love with the medium. She has a terrific wit, staging a performance piece gently parodying the art gallery scene on a Chelsea street corner. Her tale of getting all the right permits and permissions to do so reminded me of a talk I attended in Chicago by Christo and the late Jean-Claude, where the long and arduous process of getting permissions is actually an integral part of the final work - which, as we all know of Christo, is ephemeral.
I'm including another of Jenny's pieces that caught my eye, but for different reasons:
Jenny just wrote to me and furnished this heartbreaking background to the work:
enny Krasner, The Oysterman's Boat
Wood, Plaster, Oysters, Oil + acrylic paint, Found objects
4' X 6' X 5.5"
I'm really looking forward to this course!