Blog

As close as I’ve come to self portrait

Jean Alphonse Roehn - Portrait of an Artist Painting Her Self Portrait
Jean Alphonse Roehn – Portrait of an Artist Painting Her Self Portrait

I understand that the self portrait is of utmost importance to the artist, but I’ve never done one.

I am one of those people who don’t like to go into salons for hair care, due to the imposed position of staring at oneself, transfixed: a captive audience to self criticism. The notion of combining this agony with my love of painting does not sit with me, no matter the constructive objective. I’d much rather daub in a monkey in my place.

But still, one of my paintings comes pretty close.

Original concept sketch for Soothsaying, from my art journal
Original concept sketch for Soothsaying, from my art journal

It started, as many of my paintings do, with an image that wouldn’t leave my mind. I saw a doll holding an oversize fortune-telling fish, which was broadcasting her impending challenges: change, isolation, transformation. It was a distinct but imperceptible vision, almost like how the sun becomes imprinted on the back of your eye for a while if you stare at it for long enough. I captured it in my art journal so I wouldn’t lose it.

When I was able to put it onto canvas, the scene had grown and become more clear. It grew to include cala lillies, a striped bumblebee, and a landscape littered with symbolism. Not unexpected for me: as I paint, sometimes the development takes on a life of its own, seemingly out of my hands. What did seem odd was, upon completion, how many people — even strangers — remarked that the doll looked like me.

SOOTHSAYING | 2011 | oil on canvas, 25" x 25"
SOOTHSAYING |
2011 |
oil on canvas, 25″ x 25″

It’s an interesting process: when you paint honestly, your life can bleed into your work. It wasn’t intentional, but there it is. “Soothsaying” is accidentally the closest I’ve come to a self portrait.

Sineater

I find the concept of the sin-eater to be of great comfort.

A depiction of Tlazoteotl, styled as in the Codex Borgia manuscript.
A depiction of Tlazoteotl, styled as in the Codex Borgia manuscript.

According to Aztec mythology, Tlazoteotl acted as sin-eater to her people. By consumption of their sins, she absolved one of their mortal misdeeds, allowing them to transcend this mortal coil pure and unblemished into the next realm.

These are the things I think about: at what cost would this be to Tlazoteotl? Would the sin accumulate; would it be a heavy burden? Would it carry a strong distaste? Or would the legacy of the deeds — apart and away from the presumed guilt and purported shame — convey only the delicious taste of unbridled free will?

SINEATER | 2016 | oil on canvas, 7" x 5"
SINEATER |
2016 |
oil on canvas, 7″ x 5″

As part of an exploration of this theme, I painted Tlazoteotl as a corpulent rabbit, gorging on sin portrayed as forget-me-not flowers; her eye shines with an wild intelligence. This is a small canvas, 7″ x 5″, but I think it’s effective in its space.

It’s a theme I look forward to diving into more in the coming year.

Art to bridge dimensions

Hologram exhibit
Hologram exhibit

I was still in my teens when I happened upon an art exhibit that shook me up and changed my parameters.

I’d seen a nondescript, text-only advertisement in our local newspaper (No, there was no internet in those days. Really.) and something in it pulled at me. I don’t remember what it was; the copy wasn’t compelling, the venue wasn’t known to me. But I went, and I’m so glad I did.

I’d had no previous experience with hologram art. Walking through a dingy doorway in a downtown business district, a dark room was filled with odd lighting and many panes of glass, some framed like paintings, and several glass-encased  stands. I felt a thrumming in the air, or maybe in my veins as I surveyed the unusual landscape.

And then I began to walk and felt the world shift.

The art was moving, making eye contact with me, beckoning. Some pieces appeared to buck the trend and do nothing, until you got close enough to see through the pane and into another tactile dimension. The pieces appeared to physically affirm the many worlds theory, where all things were possible at the same time in different slices of reality. Physically, it was like that scene in a David Lynch movie: the light shifts and the bass undertones take center stage, creating a neural panic; I wanted to run, shrieking, and also never to leave that room again.

I spent as much time as I could take going through the exhibit, which was mostly empty at the time. Some pieces I couldn’t get close to a second time, the scenes were so startling and frightful. Other pieces you couldn’t escape, as they burst out to and followed you from across the room. Some were funny, some clever, many disturbing: but all were vivid, and present, and as though they were real. Or a different real, but still something accessible.

Rise, oil painting / magician doll
Rise, oil painting / rabbit magician doll

I left there that day with a headache and a deep desire to transcend dimension in expression. Sadly, like with animatronics there exists a deep, technical gap between my desire and my abilities. But I have found a small way to bridge dimensions in my own creations.

 These days, I derive great satisfaction from crafting dolls to match scenes from paintings of mine. Creating a 3D stand-alone narrative based upon a 2D landscape I painted feels almost like being able to step into a dream I’ve had. Seeing the dolls stand forefront and hold a real presence before their static doppelgangers truly pleases me.

2013  |   Gallery 114  |   Portland, OR
2013 |
Gallery 114 |
Portland, OR

Although other worlds might truly exist in which I’ve been able to add motion to my creations, watch them leap and beckon and spring forth from their physical mirings, at least in this world I’ve done this much.

Why it’s hard to clean my studio

JF Sebastian (Blade Runner) surrounded by his manufactured friends
JF Sebastian (Blade Runner) surrounded by his manufactured friends

I realize it’s time to clean my studio.

Like many highly-creative people, I am not a natural organizer. I have a high appreciation for people who are, but my brain does not naturally compartmentalize, label, or sort. I often wish it did, but it does not.

And I find that my projects are an ongoing conversation; the more I see the things I’m working on, the further they speak to me and develop. A good portion of my process I refer to as “air painting,” whereby I paint ahead in my mind. Throughout the day I’ll often stop and stare at my work, as my brain works ahead of my brush.

So you see, although I’ll tidy often it’s not conducive to productivity to stop and clean out my art studio.

But, to be honest, it’s mostly the friends.

I saw the movie Blade Runner as a young girl, and rejoiced in open-mouthed wonder at the scene of JF Sebastian and his home. He was an inventor, and filled his home with living dolls and robotic wonders as companions. I wanted this, too.

Dolls in progress on my workbench, patiently waiting their turn in the process: steer, devil bunny, alpaca
Dolls in progress on my workbench, patiently waiting their turn in the process: steer, devil bunny, alpaca

Although I never got the animatronics part figured out (yet), my art studio is filled with the presence of the dolls I create, and I find their company very soothing. Their eyes watch me, seemingly cheering me on even while their heads lie disincorporated and awaiting attachment to forming bodies. Completed, they stand a silent army of compatriots in my personal palette, clothed in velvet and lace, always silent assent. They’re wonderful community. And yet, I need a little more room to create.

My goal today is getting close to an elusive balance of work space and organic sprawl, without losing presence of the company I keep.

Redesigned site; new blog

This is the last page I’m creating before I push my newly-redesigned site live. This redesign encompasses many new features (including this one) that are made easily-capable by porting everything to WordPress format; not so easily-capable were my “old school” Dreamweaver-based coding skills, but hopefully it’s all worked out. I’ll know when I push it all live.
If you see any bugs or glitches, I’d appreciate hearing about it. Please comment or send me an email.
I hope to be updating the blog at least once a week. I’m putting that out there because I do well with accountability.
Ok, just a couple more items to cross off the list and then I’ll press GO. See you on the other side.