Here’s another artist’s studio. This one belongs to Maine artist Gail Sauter.

So many artists that I know have dogs hanging around their studios. Painters seem to be dog people more than cat people.

And little gems like this come out of her studio..

See more paintings by Gail Sauter at her website here and/or read her blog here.

Many scholars mark Allan Kaprow’s happenings as the beginning of performance art. Others have named Ghandi as the first actual performance artist. Others still have identified the beginning of performance art in the Dada and Futurist movements.
Unfortunately these scholars are all dead wrong. The first performance art piece actually took place during the Renaissance and was commissioned by none other than Pope Clement VIII. The first performance art piece was a true masterpiece that still burns in our memories today. It was a real sacrifice on the part of the performer and the work deserves to be added to RoseLee Goldberg’s next anthology of performance art.

On February 17th, 1600, a crudely erected stage appeared in the middle of a main city square in Rome. A crowd gathered to view a performance they had seen advertised all around the city. General admission was charged for viewing, and the performance began to take shape.

Two assistants were busying themselves on the uneven wooden platform in Rome’s Campo di Fiori as they tried to make last minute adjustments to the performance area. Silence overtook the crowd as they began to realize that the event they were about to witness would never be repeated. Giordano Bruno ascended the stage and solemnly took his place in the center. His two assistants rapidly descended from the stage and left Bruno to begin his performance. Bruno waited calmly as a third assistant quietly lit a torch. The crowd watched in disbelief as the third artist assistant gracefully walked about the stage igniting it in various places. Flames quickly overtook the stage and Giordano Bruno was burned alive.

This might appear to be just a routine Inquisitional burning at first, but let’s examine the facts a little further. The stage name of the artist in question was Giordano Bruno, but his birth name was actually Filippo Bruno. Early in his artistic career, Bruno dabbled in other forms of expression, such as writing, rhetoric, and vagrancy. Unfortunately none of the art forms gave him much pleasure until he discovered the rewarding field of performance art. Once he found he desired path, he had no shortage of supporters, patrons, and disciples. He was later to become the darling of the Inquisition set and was invited to all their high society gatherings. It was in this enlightened environment that he gained the attention of the Pope who agreed to commission Bruno to burn himself alive before an audience.

Records from the era show the Pope’s skepticism regarding the public’s response, but the turnout proved his skepticism to be unfounded. Bruno’s performance piece remains the most lucrative artistic event in history, with gross earnings reaching upwards of 10,000 Florins, a sum that would be unimaginable today.

Created by Jeffrey Andreoni On 04/14/09 At 08:38 AM

My earliest recollections are of an elaborate grate that covered an air shaft in the house where I was raised in Brooklyn. The pattern of swirls-the positive and negative space-the completeness of the Victorian design captivated me. The vent went out into a back yard and because the brass plate so fascinated me, I created elaborate visual images in my mind that incorporated the polished plate, shadowy shaft and the leafy garden beyond. I sketched the grate and used black Crayola crayons to block out the negative space. One day, I discovered a way of looking at the plate and my sketches through the viewfinder of my Dad’s Kodak Brownie. It was magic! So began my passion for architectural elements that define and augment visual space and my desire to create own art from these masterworks of stone, metal, glass and wood.

As an adolescent, I began to discover and appreciate architectural details that adorn buildings in New York City. The early photographs that I took were purely to capture the visual. Each time I saw a flower carved in stone, an interlocking and intricate geometric design created by ironwork, an enchanting or fierce marble face over a doorway, I had to capture it on film. I would wait anxiously for the photographs to come back (this before my education of the darkroom and the infinite possibilities that chamber held) from the camera store. Opening those envelopes was an experience filled with all the wonder of childhood: the images of art poured forth. I cropped the artful architectural details to create my own art and frequently drew or painted elaborate illustrations from those photographs. Some of the drawings and paintings were taken from one architectural image; others combined several ornaments into one composition. While my contemporaries in art classes were studiously copying the works of the masters, I was replicating and interpreting in my own way the often unsung artists who had sculpted masterpieces that ornamented buildings right in my own neighborhood. I did not need to look in art books to find statues and paintings that were housed in European museums to find my inspiration: all I had to do was look around my Brooklyn street or take a subway to my personal Oz: Manhattan. The artworks were all around me on the buildings I passed every day.

As a photographer of details of architecture, I am still enthralled by the magnificent art and meticulous craft that went in to the creation of ornamentation of architecture in the past. When I plan a day of photographing architecture, likely as not, I will be amazed by the details that I discover-even now. Throughout my travels, I have photographed vine covered lampposts, grim faced gargoyles, beatific angels, elaborate serpentine designs and elegant art deco relief I first photograph some of the area in which the detail exists. For example, on a recent shoot, I found inspirational subjects in Grand Central Station. Before taking photographs of the details to which I was drawn, I took pictures of the entire building from numerous angles. I then isolated the details of architecture that I wished to photograph. I always work with natural light to emphasize the characteristics of the detail of architecture and the way in which it was initially created. After I am satisfied that I had enough photographs of the architectural detail, I shoot the surfaces of the detail and the surrounding area up close so that I can understand the original medium: sandstone, marble, brass, oak, et al. Later, I look at the images for hours before selecting the very best way in which I can preserve and enhance the art of the architectural detail. The images of Grand Central Station’s magnificent architectural details gave me weeks of creative energy and a passion to return there often to seek out new details and further refine the previous photographs I took there.

My quest in seeking out architectural details from which to create my own art has given me a profound appreciation of the beauty and history of New York. The art of creating art from art can be a humbling, yet empowering experience. I have, on the one hand, the great artists who created these marvels of ornamentation to live up to as I incorporate their art into my own. On the other hand, I am mentored by some of the best possible teachers. It was and continues to be a wonderful way to express myself through art.

Created by Ellen Fisch On 03/31/09 At 09:05 AM