Carl Roberts » Newsletter

Talent

The average person believes he or she has an above average intelligence. Yep! I know it is an idiotic concept but it is true. The social scientists have done the research. If you are still not sure perhaps you should ask yourself where you fit in. I am sure you will have the same answer as I had.

I think this phenomenon is more pronounced in the art crowd, I am sure you have seen the works that are trying to be clever – they are those that are incomprehensible. Fortunately there is a protocol on such occasions. You hear key words to unlock the enigmatic work whispered by those who appear more informed than you but who have merely preceded you. Once overheard it is your turn to appear knowledgeable and whisper the phrases to the less informed.

There is a hierarchy of cleverness. The academically trained are at the top. Generally, they do not have a saleable product and are beyond comprehension to the “ignorant and uncultured” public. At the bottom are the professional artists who are liked and understood but merely talented. The perception is that talent is innate and has nothing to do with intellect, experience or hard work. These artists are more likely to take the advice of Groucho Marx who said “most of us must compensate for our low intelligence with hard work”. He was no fool.

The history of education in the arts has a lot to do with the end result. In the distant past artists trained apprentices who started their careers by grinding and mixing paints. Later the teaching of artists moved to the academies and art schools. Here, copying the masters was a common practice and paint came in tubes. More recently art education moved into universities. It is not surprising then that the art produced has been influenced by the ivory tower and become more theoretical in nature.

Traditional painting, sculpture and the manual labour that they entail has been thrown out in favour of conceptual art. Artists have become art directors who orchestrate assistants, technicians and engineers and make things like installations. The projects are often large and impressive but surely the credit should go to the engineer and assistants. It reminds me of a quote by A H Weiler “Nothing is impossible for the man who doesn’t have to do it himself”. It is even easier for the artist if his work is funded by the public purse.

It seems then that there are two kinds of art and artists. There are the paint pushers, mud muckers and sawdust suckers who, like me, enjoy playing in the dirt and the cerebral artists who do not expect to get their hands dirty. They appear to have more advantages because being academically trained they have the paper credits and gain employment. Then, while comfortably employed, are able to apply for grants. This enables them to study, publish or exhibit and travel overseas and make works of art. All of which is good for the C.V. and obtaining more grants. Sales are unnecessary and even regarded with suspicion. Their measure of success is the amount of controversy they stir up. Not surprisingly they are envied by the career artist but ignored by a disinterested public.

In contrast, the professional artist must make a product and sell it in order to live. He or she needs to be technically skilled and hard working. Usually they are a one man band counting on commercial galleries and depending on the public for support. Ironically, if they are successful, it is often regarded as proof that they have compromised their principles for financial gain.

It would seem that the academic artists are winning this game hands down except for their relationship with the public. Now, with the recession, their position is less comfortable. Where countries have had to cut budgets they have chosen the arts as an easy target. Despite the wailing and gnashing of teeth, Britain has slashed 20% off its arts budget. I imagine within those budgets they will try and retain jobs and as a result it will be the grants that are most affected.

Cleverness comes in many forms, some are more in fashion than others; it is when it is coupled with hard work that it is most fertile. Mixing colours turns out not to be so simple. It requires talent. I know, as I have a wife who does it everyday mending ceramics and she is particularly good at it. She has clients from three different continents that have great respect for her ability and she is not feeling the recession. Since she is my spouse I must use the word talent instead of intellect. It relegates her job to one of manual labour and helps me to retain a semblance of control.

Regards,
Carl

New work

2011 | Old Man of the Sea | 245 x 125 x 110 | Carl Roberts home gallery, South Africa

2011 | Scrap | 880 x 2100 x 360 | Carl Roberts home gallery, South Africa

2011 | Out on a Limb | 1800 x 980 x 230 | Carl Roberts home gallery, South Africa

Frog in a football match

March 7th, 2011 | Posted in Newsletter | 1 Comment
Tags: Carl Roberts, March 2011, Newsletter, Sculpture

My son, Jack, is an unenthusiastic football player and in his first year of playing he kicked his mates more than he kicked the ball. In one particular game he was the only player near the ball and despite the frantic shouting from his parents and the team he let the ball and the game pass him by. His hands were clasped as if in prayer and he was contemplative. When players rushing by nearly knocked him off his feet he awoke and ran towards us grinning, saying “I caught a frog”.

There is something about this image, a frog in a football match, which rings true of my own life. I failed matric and should have been forced to flip hamburgers for the rest of my life. However with luck and bluff I manage to skip that career and get into Rhodes University. I went on to lecture and eventually took that leap of faith to become an artist. As an artist I have always done well and have not had to make compromises. I have not had to work in a pub as I expected nor have I been forced to take on students or any other jobs to make ends meet. I have survived by sculpting alone. Not many artists can say that but what was difficult has been aggravated by the recession. To quote an article in Art Times “the game has changed”. It has been tough for everyone in the arts. Many galleries, including three that I have used, have closed their doors. Artists, I know, have been crushed and forced to take “real jobs”.

Art is the first thing off the shopping list when things are difficult and we have felt this recession. We have had to make do, recycle, reuse and use up. We were already well into the swing of things when it came to the holidays. We had been eating up our store of baked beans and the other weevil riddled extras stored over many years in our pantry. We did not go on holiday the previous year. This year, despite a poor bank balance, my wife was determined to go on holiday and when I hesitated she became more belligerent than usual. I was forced to negotiate. The compromise we came to was to go to Kenton for a short time and on a budget. That meant no flights, no Landcruiser, no kitchen sink, and no big fishing rods. We would travel in the Yaris which is economical but it has a very, very small boot. The holiday became know as “Survivor Kenton”.

Now, I get the feeling that the recession is slowly abating. Confidence is creeping back into the market. Perhaps it is because of the rally in the stock market and the record prices reached on the art auctions held recently. It is reflected in the number of options on works that are still unfinished in my studio. This recession has also been a time that art has proved its worth as an alternative investment. Most reassuring was that the only asset of Lehman Brothers that held its value when it was auctioned off in the “fire sale” was their art collection. The recession has taught me many valuable lessons. Among these are the value of established galleries, the benefit of being diversified and the need for a reservoir of cash.

My wife, the organiser of Survivor Kenton, only allowed us to take one pair of socks, one pair of underpants, one pair of jeans and a couple of tee shirts and what we were wearing on the day. Of course, all of that does not apply to the organiser who has a separate suitcase just for her make up. All the abstemiousness suits me because I like living in my costume and an old tee shirt. The fact it smells like bait is, well, according to me, just natural. What caused anxiety was that there was no room for my big fishing rods and I began to wonder if the holiday was going to be a holiday at all.

In the end, like the fortunate frog who hopped into the caring hands of a little boy, Survivor Kenton was the right thing to do. The weather was great, my wife managed without the kitchen sink, I manage to squeeze in a tiny rod that can be disassembled and even caught a few fish. Granny bought Jack the smallest, cheapest rod and reel in the shop and that was all that he needed. Lily and Joanna were happy to play in the pools and to catch a tan. We had a great time, we got the rest and respite we required after a difficult year and there was no own goal as far as the finances were concerned. In fact when we got home I learned that I had sold several works. The saying goes that there is no gain without pain. The recession was stressful and difficult and as a result I have learnt many useful things that will serve me well in the future. By contrast the hurt I felt in Kenton was inflicted by my son and will not serve me in any way. It was as cruel as the frog in a liquidiser joke. (What is green and goes red at the flick of a switch?)

While I pranced around with my superior equipment, years of experience and finely honed skills, he and that token rod caught more and bigger fish than I. Perhaps I should console myself with the thought that sometimes, like the frog on the football field, you are just lucky.

Regards
Carl

New work

2011 | Red Sea | 880 x 2100 x 360 | Ebony Gallery – Franschoek, South Africa

2011 | Shadow Stalker | 170 x 910 x 90 | Carl Roberts home gallery

2011 | Heron | 1000 x 380 x 180 | Carl Roberts home gallery

2011 | Cow | 145 x 315 x 140 | Sold

Less is more

January 3rd, 2011 | Posted in Newsletter | Comments Off
Tags: Carl Roberts, January 2011, Newsletter, Sculpture

Last year I received an invitation to “Frequency, Lumens, Place” an installation. This invitation was even less pictorial than the previous one received which had a photograph of floor boards as its ‘best foot forward’, image. The card only had the words and the flat background colour to give you any idea of what to expect. The words were, presumably, carefully considered so as not to need an image. I was left clueless until I was given more information in a separate communiqué (also without an image) which described something that made me think of a discothèque. Since I am now too old for discos I did not go to the opening. However the invitation itself got me thinking about the visual arts and if it has less to say than before.

In time-honoured image making “a picture is worth a thousand words”. It conveys many things that can be assimilated at once but are not easily talked or written about. It is or was one of the reasons why we make images and it follows naturally that we put the best of those on our invitations. However, there are many new forms like words, movement, sound, and lighting which have made inroads into the visual art space. This invitation is a “back to the future” moment in art when on the one had we seem to be leaving behind the traditional part of art and on the other there is renewed interest in it.

William Bouguereau and Vladimir Tretchikoff are artists who have painted in an orthodox manner. They were the antitheses of all we have held dear and progressive in art for many years. William Bouguereau was the top of the pops at the Academie when Monet exhibited the first impressionist work ‘Soleil Levant’ (Sunrise), at the Salon de Refuses. Subsequently, Monet has been acclaimed whilst Bouguereau was discredited and disregarded. However, I recently received two emails that seem to indicate a change of heart. In one letter the person wept at seeing Bouguereau’s work and raved about the artists ability to create “luminous flesh colours”. The other confirmed this new found merit as it was about a recently published book on the man. Similarly, Tretchikoff has been given some respectability. Previously his work epitomised kitsch and was untouchable for many but lately his work has been auctioned off for millions. Also, I believe that he has been accepted into our National Gallery. Despite the rumour it would only be over the previous directors’ dead body.

Resurrections in art are a regular occurrence. We rediscover ourselves and find those values which have always been there but need to be reasserted. The Lascaux cave paintings can be considered an installation as can Bernini’s work in the Cornaro chapel (1645-52) . What we think is new in art is usually not, rather it is something that has risen from the ashes of the past. How can an artist like Bouguereau be respected, then discredited, and then valued once again? Perhaps, it is about what we choose to see.

I did meet Tretchi in Garlicks many years ago and have recently read his book “Pigeon’s Luck” but I am not a great fan. I prefer more painterly and expressive works like that of Euan Macleod featured in the November 29 issue of Time magazine. His works talk to me about things that are best described as sensual, mysterious and having pathos. The article speaks about the “forgotten years of painting” and Macleod himself speaks of “when painting was incredibly uncool” and “seen as a real anachronism”. This was when installations became popular and when art works became more conceptual. Now his kind of work is being reconsidered and it seems painting is cool again.

Tom Wolf, in his novel “The Painted Word” (1975) predicted that in the future we would see, in the Museum of Modern Art, large boards of text (eight and a half feet by eleven) written by the critics as the art works whilst on the side there would be small reproductions to illustrate those texts. He was right, at least in the sense that words would become an important part of the visual arts. The homes of my friends’ support this fact. Above their mantel pieces and behind their sofas are words of art, like “LOVE” or “JOY”. Like Trechi’s art works once were, these masterpieces are now readily available from your local retailer. Presumably you can get it in red, green or white and with tinsel on it to match your festive decorations.

My wish for 2011 and the next few years is that artists will brave the stigma of being conventional and paint with oil on canvas. I am tired of the old: of pathetic installations, the trite words in art, the easily achieved display of bin bags, the self indulgent men prancing around in tutus or women showing off their tits. These kinds of works have been around for nearly thirty years now and I think of them as conventional and boring. It is time for artists to move on. If my wish is granted the painters will paint with their hearts, they would tackle less but communicate more.

Have a wonderful 2011.

Carl

New work

Hold my Heart | 90 x 230 x 220 | Carl Roberts home gallery

Father and Son | 650 x 430 x 130 | Knysna Fine Arts

Dancer | 605 x 340 x 170 | Carl Roberts home gallery

Carpet Python | 295 x 650 x 720 | Carl Roberts home gallery

Sleeping Beauty and Snake Oil

October 18th, 2010 | Posted in Newsletter | 2 Comments
Tags: Carl Roberts, Newsletter, October 2010, Sculpture

There is a line from Monty Python which went goes; “Isn’t nature wonderful! Listen to the sound of a cockroach sneezing. Aachoo!” The send up reminds me of my weekend in the Berg and just for the record I do not hate nature. In fact there are very few things I enjoy more than walking in the bush, hiking on a mountain or exploring a cave, albeit I fear heights and expect the overhanging rocks to fall down at any moment. My ignorance of things “natural” was brought into sharp focus when our family spent a night in the Sleeping Beauty cave.

We went with gang of healthy, herby types and I have to admit I was a little intimidated as they all looked rather robust. Especially the women who carried on their backs provisions and bedding for their entire families. They looked like Tensing Norgay carrying Hillary’s camping gear on their ascent of Everest. Fortunately with my considerably lighter pack I, like Hillary, was able to stride out ahead. It also helped me put some distance between me and the two herby doctors as my ability to communicate with the veggie types was limited. My experiences with natural products and natural healers have been unfortunate and now I doubt the potions and lotions they peddle. I might as well have been hiking with a posse of witchdoctors.

Whatever I think matters little as my wife always brings home the expensive, herby, healthy stuff. I think she sees it as insurance. No matter how unlikely, you should take it just in case it is good for you. In case you wonder, I think that inside every woman is a hex who wants to deliver a potion. The brew always seems to be something recycled or made from materials readily available and every month there is a new a new miracle cure for a problem I didn’t think I had. We have been through many; Spirilina, Echinaforce, Propolis Kid, charcoal pills, molasses, flax oil and a host of others whose names I have forgotten. Now, I see her eyeing out those bangles with the holograms which I am convinced is as significant as the cockroach’s sneeze. To say the least, I am sceptical. Bran used to be pig food. I first ate molasses on my grandfathers’ farm as it was used as supplement for cows. Spiro Giro is something that grows most happily in dams on a sewerage farm. I am always a little disbelieving when a cheap and freely available thing becomes expensive and is a cure for almost everything. To my mind it is just another kind of snake oil.

My scepticism was sharpened after I had paid R400 for the magic Blue Myron bottle which I was told was essential for Spirulina. I later discovered that the refill came in the not so magic plastic packet. Personally I have a lot more faith in sleep, food and sex. (It is not an accident that exercise is missing from this list.) All of which were in short supply on this trip and that is when I am most likely to be like one of Sleeping Beautys’ gnomes, Grumpy. In my crabby state I tried to figure out why the cave is called Sleeping Beauty cave. I wondered if it was because we left like the dwarfs Happy and Doc and returned like Grumpy, Dopey, Sneezy and Sleepy. Or. By the time we returned were as smelly, sweaty and dirty as dwarves returning from the mines. At least one witch offered me an apple and naturally there were plenty of potions around.

I must have turned down the apple as I did not sleep a wink. The wind howled, the dust poured into my every orifice and the ground was cold and uncomfortable. I cowered into my sleeping bag and prayed for a fairy godmother to whisk me away but on this occasion there was no pumpkin, no prince and no happy ending. The cure for all my ailments was to found at home where this ogre has gone to considerable lengths to keep nature at bay. There my Sleeping Beauty and this happy dwarf snuggled merrily into a warm, soft bed and slept for what felt like a 100 years.

Perhaps that was the happily ever after.

Regards,
Carl

New work

2010 | Wisp, Waif and Stray | 1960mm x 290mm x 610mm

2010 | Sea Weed Swim | 1300 x 1660 x 600 | Carl Roberts home gallery

2010 | Breathe | 380mm x 515mm x 175mm | Sold

Public Art

August 16th, 2010 | Posted in Newsletter | No Comments
Tags: August 2010, Carl Roberts, Newsletter, Sculpture

Pity Andries Botha www.andriesbotha.net as ‘they’ are unhappy with his sculptures and have prevented the commissioned works from being delivered into the public arena. And not just one or two but, when I last spoke to him, three of his commissions were in limbo. I know he is frustrated and I wonder after this experience if he will be, like me, another artist who simply does not do commissions.

Andries is among the most respected sculptors and, more than that, the sculptures would have been subjected to a process designed to control the quality, deal with objections and enable them to stand up to criticism. Usually, the artist submits a drawing or a maquette for approval to a committee. They select the best proposal and may make suggestions or request changes. Later, the full size plaster or clay or original work would be sanctioned. This is before the artwork is cast into bronze when changes are more easily done and before it is placed in the public domain.

My resolve to steer clear is currently being tested by the recession. The large price tags attached to and the accompanying prestige makes them just too juicy to ignore. However, I am aware that things are not always as they appear and I am all too familiar with the trauma of commissions. The subject is imposed and is never a subject an artist would naturally do. Then you work for weeks to submit a maquette which is, more often than not, rejected and not paid for. On a few occasions the assured commission just shrivelled up and vanished. Then if you are unlucky enough to get the commission you find your have to deal with a lot of expensive materials, labour and services. I have always underestimated the amounts and ended up with the short end of the stick. Finally when you have done all the hard work and paid all the bills there is that infuriating unhappiness that seems inevitable with commissions. It is an unhappy occupation.

It seems people like the idea of artistic freedom but not the artist’s ideas. Perhaps Andries should have been given carte blanche, then we may have seen one of this artists’ large, reclining, tyre ladies or a herd of Leadwood elephants gracing our airport. It could have been done on a grand scale and apart from being a uniquely African work I think it would have been more beautiful, more lyrical and more sculptural. It would differ from the usual politically charged, morally dubious and dull bronze monuments. It could have made our new, big, and rather boring airport, exceptional and vital.

Monuments are usually imbued with the mythology of the ruling elite and contain the symbols and values of that society. So who is Shaka Zulu, what does he symbolise and what values does he underwrite? Shaka is most often remembered for defeating Lord Chelmsford and the British army but as I understand it, he slaughtered a lot more Zulus than British soldiers. On one occasion 7000 Zulus, who on the death of his mother were deemed to be insufficiently grief stricken, were killed. This behaviour is more like a Stalin than a Gandhi or a Mandela. I understand the defeat of the British to be a powerful symbol but I do not think we should forget the Zulu people murdered. If we do then I think it will be safe to presume that it is also okay to erect a Verwoerd in Soweto, a Hitler in Auschwitz and an Osama Bin Laden in Ground Zero, New York. I am not sure that Shaka was a good choice but I am sure Andries was trying to show his merits. So I am amazed to hear that one of the objections to his work was that Shaka should have been made to look more aggressive.

There is a recession, money is tight and things are tough but unless I am starving I simply will not do a commission. I have burnt my fingers and I find it easier, less stressful, more honest, more satisfying, more interesting and exciting to simply do my own thing. The system has failed Andries all because of the shameful meddling of a powerful few. I hope Andries is not as easily put off as I was. If good artists no longer want to participate in public works we will be poorer for it. Apart from the financial multiplier effects, the social benefits and art as a civilising force our airports and cities could be very tedious places. Perhaps it is not so much as pity Andries as pity us.

Regards
Carl

New work

2010 | Unsettled Sea | 300mm x 1410mm x 170mm | Strydom gallery, George, South Africa

2010 | What are you Looking at? | 580mm x 340mm x 210mm | Sold

2010 | Lion | 320mm x 460mm x 165mm | Stephanie Hoppen Gallery, London

On the move.

June 19th, 2010 | Posted in Newsletter | No Comments
Tags: Carl Roberts, June 2010, Newsletter, Sculpture

I am not sure what it is like to be real artist, I only know what it is like to be me. It seems real artists starve and commit suicide like Van Gogh or alternatively they have their paths paved with gold like Picasso. The world I live in is a lot less extreme but never boring.

My life is peppered with unexpected things which are sometimes favourable and sometimes unpleasant. My friend, John Smith has had the owners of two galleries, stocked with his work, have heart attacks and die. I imagine similar disasters are par for the course and being an artist is like being in business. You have to be brave, wary and adapt to circumstances. On the one hand there is always someone who will try to con you or steal from you and on the other there are always opportunities.

On the positive side, Stephanie Hoppen of Stephanie Hoppen gallery in London phoned and would like “represent” me. This sounded very posh but it came out of the blue and I did not know who she was or if the gallery was a tea room in a dodgy suburb. However, when I mentioned this to my friends, Mike and Margaret, they knew of the gallery and their response was positive and encouraging. I also Google it and got this result: This smart gallery on Walton Street features top notch contemporary artists and photographers from around the world. Stephanie is also the author of some books on interior decoration. I am delighted and I am busy packing works to send to her.

In the past there seem to have been more opportunities to exhibit on big shows. I participated in the Cape Town Triennial twice but failed to submit for the Bret Kebble shows and I am now too old for the ABSA Atelier and too established for the Sasol New Signatures. In any case I am not motivated to make pieces for these kinds of events as I hate to feel pressurised. Participation usually depends upon if I have something suitable at the time. As a result I am pleased that my work Banana Boy has been selected for Kwa Zulu Natals’ most prestigious exhibition, Jabulisa.

My premier gallery, Gallery on the Square, is also on the move. It has migrated to the “art strip” at 140 Jan Smuts Ave, Parkwood. (Tel +27 11 447 0155) The upgrade includes a change of name as it is now called Gallery 2.

This past month I have made several small works. Seeking Penny and Push Up are made from the same kind of bone, giraffe vertebrae. It is always difficult to think of something that will fit into the shape and suit the size of the bone. However to make each new work, from the same kind of bone, different, is a double challenge and one I have enjoyed.

Black Bird is made from a piece of driftwood in which I have set pieces of bone from a bird’s wing for the whites of the eyes. For me, it is a slightly ominous subject and makes me think of scenes from the play Macbeth. By contrast the polish and grain of the wood is beautiful and the textures and shapes playful and entertaining.

Blue, Buck Jack is made from a giraffe scapula and is Picassoesque in that it simultaneously has two different views. A frontal and a profile view. Joanna, my wife, likes the two views which she says it is like having two identities and a quality which she identifies with. I suppose it is a bit like the girl with a curl who when she was good was very good and when she was bad was horrid. Despite my protestations about being broke, this work is not for sale as she has decided to keep it.

One of the not so nice things is that From the navel to the nest was stolen from the Mirror Gallery in Cape Town. Then, to add insult to injury, the owners have decided to close the gallery. Sadly, I think that the work will end up as firewood as it will not be easy to resell it. I am upset but I am not going to starve or commit suicide. On the contrary! I am excited as perhaps London will bring me fame and fortune and make me a real artist.

Regards

Carl

Change

May 7th, 2010 | Posted in Newsletter | 11 Comments
Tags: Carl Roberts, March 2010, Newsletter, Sculpture

Forty years ago this letter would have served to remind you that you had forgotten to put ten rand in an envelope with a birthday card for me. However, ten rand does not buy what it used to and that was before the Post Office started confiscating any money sent in the post. Besides, now that I am a grown up, it seems, regrettably, that I am restricted to socks and underpants as acceptable presents.

If it were not for its continued monopoly and a few rand still in my Post Office Bank account I imagine the Post Office would cease to exist. I write emails and I imagine almost everyone else does even if they, like the snail mail, are not always delivered. Some things never change. Julius Malema reminds me of P.W. Botha waving his finger and telling the press how to behave. The tyre burning and police shooting at those who riot are indistinguishable from the images that I saw in the press in the Apartheid era. Perhaps, the more things change the more they remain the same.

Shoot the Messenger made in wild plum wood could have been an Apartheid era subject. In 1980’s, when I went to Rhodes and P.W. Botha was in power, I preferred not to read newspapers. However, my journalist friends made me aware of their frustrations and the press’s prescriptions and limitations. They were disabled and could not give the full story. This work is pertinent to threats to a free press and does have something of the horror and angst of that apartheid era. Specifically, the photographs of “terrorists” shot in the head that I was shown at that time. Those images are now part of the arsenal of this artist who conveys the concerns of this new era, or as some like to call it “the new regime”.

Ghost is part of my new regime which is much the same as the old one. Except mine has taken to heart all the lessons learnt from all I have done since the eighties. It has been made with more knowledge, more skill, and more determination than before. I think that this work achieves many things I strive to attain. It is a composition that is both organic and structured, a sort of ordered chaos. It has an exciting texture, surface, line and form. I don’t know the name of this wood but I have previously worked with it and know it as “good wood” with an unusual colour and fantastic grain. The shape of this work and its striations reminds me of Roy Lichtenstein’s “brushstroke” works, some of which he made in the bad old eighties.

There are a few things from bad old days I would like to re-instate like the ten rand that my granny used to send on my birthdays. I think it should be enough to buy me one of those big black Wilson’s toffees which would be better than socks or underpants. There are a lot of things that make me happy in our brave new world. I love email as you do not have to wait two weeks for a reply. The web is great for research and if you are looking for a different opinion you can read a newspaper from almost anywhere in the world. The spelling and grammar checks on my computer are great for writing as I can neither spell nor read my own hand writing.

As if to illustrate the benefits of our new world I have recently sold a work that is going to a gallery in China and had an email from a gallery in London interested in my work. In the bad old days sending work to China would have been consorting with the communist enemy and, being poor, I would have had to give it to them. In those days Maggie Thatcher’s London was capitalist and it was a time of economic ascendance for the British. Now, the Chinese are our financially well off, almost capitalist, friends, whilst our poor, almost communist, friends in London have been hard hit by the recession and are concerned about the prices of my work.

It is not that I am a supporter of either Maggie or Mao but at least in those days I still had friends and my birthday was remembered. This year I only received one birthday card which was from my Mum. I had to remind my wife and children of the important event and by then it was too late for the usual socks and underpants and even if you sent it, there was no ten rand in the post.

Regards
Carl

Ant not bean!

March 15th, 2010 | Posted in Newsletter | No Comments
Tags: Carl Roberts, February 2010, Newsletter, Sculpture

I think my place in society should be like that of a termite in an ant hill. My thoughts are not because they carve wood, nor because they are sometimes destructive little pests, but because I like the image of a humble worker steadily building.

The ant may be insignificant but he makes a fantastic structure by carrying grains of sand and wood one at a time (from your house to his). We, like the ants, should participate in some small way to constructing a better world. Perhaps it is self serving but I would like to live in and leave behind a kinder, happier and culturally richer domain.

Much of my white ant soul has been with the African Art Centre, a development agency. It was initially set up by the Race Relations Institute more than 50 years ago with the aim of promoting art and providing work, financial independence and dignity through art. In the distant past I have exhibited and sold work through the Centre. I have served on the board of directors for more than ten years and recently I was elected as Chairman of the Board.

I am delighted and a little nervous. At the time of my election I had the thought that the board had elected a Mr Bean. This was because I am aware of my own failings, intimidated by the wealth of talent on the board and admire the dedicated and hard working staff. However, I realise that what is required is a team effort as that will ensure the continuation of the good work already done.

The ant is not an image I have used often although they have appeared in some of the trees I have made. Trees and the wild life therein are a symbol of community for me. My recent work Fight or Flight is an example. When I was full of optimism for our rainbow nation my trees were filled with insects, animals and birds, happily coexisting. However since then the fauna in the trees has diminished and they usually have a predator amongst them. In this bone work the threat is a leopard, an animal that I associate with stealth and cunning. I have occasionally carved a lion, like the Iron Lion, a new work carved from lump of ironstone that I found in Howick. However, the lion is an image I associate with power and leadership and differs from the leopard.

I have sculpted a few works in stone, stones like serpentine, limestone, sandstone and granite, but the ironstone is by far the hardest. I started using this material because I liked the organic shapes which made them suitable for my mounts and even though the work was minimal, the stone required diamond tipped tools in order to dress them. Now, having acquired those tools, I am presented with an opportunity to sculpt something a little different.

I, like most artists, am regularly tithed. This has nothing to do with my religious beliefs. The tithe or tax is collected by charities that regularly ask artists for donations. I like to participate, even when it is more than I can afford. In the past month I have donated works to Every One Counts and will be participating in the Wildlands Art for Conservation to be held at the Spier Estate in April, 2010. These charitable events are a great way for collectors to do a good deed, acquire works cheaply and in some cases you may even be able to put the amount spent against your income tax.

I will not tell the wildlife people that as a small boy and a destructive little pest, I used to catch large, shiny, black safari ants, make them bite the hem of my shorts and break off their bodies. The aim was to have a row of gleaming ant heads decorating my shorts.

The ants have taken their revenge. They have steadily been eating and undermining my home. Then some time ago, at three in the morning, my doorbell started ringing. At first I reasoned it was a mistake, but when it persisted I thought it might be the police. Eventually, seething with anger, I roared up the drive to the gate only to find no one there. It left me in a confused rage. The following day the doorbell was rung again but this time I could see that no one was at the gate. I unscrewed the intercom to investigate and as I opened it ants poured out to defend their nest.

The incident has made me think. Our communities do not need the self-serving, parading and clowning of a Mr Bean that we see all too often. What it desperately needs are those people with the self sacrificing and workmanlike mindset of the ant that quietly gets on with the job.

Regards
Carl

Full lipped

February 5th, 2010 | Posted in Newsletter | No Comments
Tags: Carl Roberts, Newsletter, Sculpture

Sensuality interests me! I enjoy touching and being touched. I need a full lipped French kiss, the warmth of a body, the curves, the feeling of skin, and to quote one of my favourite films ‘The Rocky Horror Show’ “a little bit of massage and steam”.

It is part of me, part of art and part of my work.

I think that artists put their sensuality on display. I am sure many are unaware of doing so but it is unavoidable. It comes through the artists’ preferences and the choices which are sometimes not conscious decisions. Things like the materials and colours they choose to work in, textures they make, the way they use line and so on. It is something that is difficult to pin down but it is, when the artist is not trying too hard, easily spotted.

A work I often think about is ‘Plum Cream’ by Penny Siopis, now in the Tatham Art Gallery in Pietermaritzburg. It is a painting of a cake but it is a cake that feels to me to have the ingredients of labia and pudenda rather than flour and eggs. Perhaps it should have been banned as obscene but I love it. I much prefer this to her history paintings which I find are over intellectualised and pander to the academics. ‘Plum Cream’ has that sensual content, the real soul of the woman, and that is something to get excited about.

At university I used to take an intense interest in the works put on the wall for the monthly critiques. Not only because I could learn something about the composition of works but also because I could learn about the people who made them. Coincidently, they were mostly women. I like to think it was a balanced life as my social education was then at least as good as my academic efforts.

The making sculpture is often a sensual activity. Perhaps this is more obvious in modelling wet clay than carving dry rock. It is felt, fingered, and caressed into shape by the artists’ hands. Painting, by contrast, is generally prodded onto canvas with some hairs on the end of a stick and viewed from a distance. Admirers of sculpture often feel the work and it is a medium more easily appreciated by blind people.

Of course my own sensuality or frigidity is out there for all to see. I try and embrace it as I think of it as worthwhile content. Each of new works In a Tangle, and Reef Ranger (sold) display that part of me. ‘In a Tangle’ has the warmth of the wood, the curvilinear lines, and the intimate subject. ‘Reef Ranger’ is a satisfying subject that I have tackled several times. Because of its amorphous form an octopus can be “bent” to take almost any shape and becomes a vehicle for expression of a sensual self. I am not alone in my choice of this subject and am aware of Hokusai’s erotic octopus which some may read as lewd. However, for me, it so explicitly expresses what many have felt; the desire to consume your lovers’ body.

Naturally I would like to think I am deeply sensual. It is the kind of accolade that would suit my artists’ identity and add to my sense of being a good lover. However, as I am not in the habit of fondling myself, I am in a poor position to judge. Perhaps it would be best to ask my wife. Then again don’t, as you might feel obliged to burst my bubble.

I think, as a New Years’ resolution, I will heed those lines from my favourite film “give yourself over to absolute pleasure”. That for me will be falling in love with and getting steamy with my bits of wood and bone.

Regards
Carl

Luck!

January 8th, 2010 | Posted in Newsletter | 6 Comments
Tags: Carl Roberts, Newsletter, Sculpture

I don’t believe in luck or at least in not waiting around for a lucky break. It is not that I don’t get lucky or have bad luck; in fact I think that I have had more than my fair share of both. I believe in trying hard, making sure and putting aside for the inevitable rainy day.

I make sure that I do the important things like squirrel away any spare cash and I try my very best with everything else. Perhaps the least important things in my new sculptures, Ironstone Head, Jump and Hullabaloo, are the pins, hangers and the undersides of the bases on which the sculptures stand. In all my mounted works I use stainless steel pins to connect sculpture to the base and felt underneath them to prevent them from scratching the floor or desk. On my wall mounted works I always put in twice as many screws into the hangers as are necessary, the screws are solid brass and the hanging plates made of stainless steel. I know it is excessive and perhaps I am insecure but I do not want them fall down, scratch a surface or develop rust marks. I try hard to make sure that there will never be a problem.

2009IronstoneHead855x300x130 2009Jump750x390x130 2009Hullabaloo485x270x100

Professor Robert Brooks once remarked that I was a bottom feeder. At the time I had no idea what he was talking about. I have come to understand that what he meant is the opposite of a high flyer, someone who likes to secure his foothold and not to leave anything to chance. However, I should know better as fate always has some say in the way things turn out.

This year we were robbed of a car, used our reserves to buy a new one and then the recession hit us with no sales for 3 months. This famine and feast cycle is not unusual for us. However, this time, without our savings I became very anxious.

To avoid destitution I imposed measures to mitigate the situation. The geyser was turned off until needed and we took shorter showers which were sometimes cold because we had forgotten to turn the geyser on. The groceries were pared down to the bare essentials. We always seemed to be eating cabbage and I missed the chops and chocolate. The dogs were put on diet and the kids supplemented their rations with the peanuts from their allocations of pet rat food.

I think it was Gary Player who said that “the harder I practice, the luckier I get” and that sums it up for me. There is an element of chance in anything you do. There are ups and there are downs but with hard work and careful planning I think one can weather the storms and improve the odds of success. My over reaction does have its advantages as we have pruned our expenses and implemented some good habits. Our stolen car was a bit of bad luck but, as fate would have it, there has been some good luck.

Happily, I have been nominated for a fellowship at Yale. I realise that it is still only a remote possibility because out of the 750 nominations, they will only choose a dozen or so. However a nomination to a fellowship at Yale is fortunate and exciting even if it remains but a nomination and if it succeeds, this lucky bottom feeder will be a high flyer.

Regards

Carl

Also see

Coffee table Carl

Meeting Carl Roberts is a book about my life and work, and includes many beautiful photographs. To find out more or order a copy, please let me know here.

Owning Carl Roberts

To make one of my pieces your own, find out more here.