Kretchmer

Working

2011-05-06T10:43:22Z

My studio is a mess these days with paint, brushes and torn cardboard all over the place, covering the floor and making it difficult to walk. To make things even more interesting, the only lamp in the room is placed as far from the door as possible, so walking across the darkened room to turn it on, or exiting the room once I've turned it off, presents an Xtreme challenge.

I'm focused on only one painting right now, 120 cm x 100 cm, which is a little larger than I've worked over the past couple years, although I wish I were working much larger. It's been a struggle so far, more of a series of experiments than a picture with a clear vision. I don't know what I'm doing and change my mind about the piece daily. I want it dark. No, I want it bright. Shiny. No, dull. Straight lines... no, erratic. It's a learning piece and I feel like I'm turning a corner. And then another and another.

Paint isn't that expensive here, but in the quantities that I'm buying it the price quickly skyrockets. A couple weeks ago I spent over €300 at Bosener (that's about $450).

Last Friday was the big gallery weekend here in Berlin, and I went over to check out the Albert Oehlen show at Galerie Max Hetzler. It was a bunch of paintings he'd done back in 2004, as well as some recent collage work he'd collaborated on with a musician. I loved the paintings, but didn't care much for the collages. They looked so small and ordinary when paired with the enourmous paintings.

I saw some large sheets of glass in a pile of trash on my walk home last night, and it occured to me that they would be great to work paint on - better than the plastic tarp that I've been using (the Xacto blades slice through it too easily), so I picked them up and carried them home with me. They're propped against the wall in my studio now, in need of a good wash.

I don't have any plans for the weekend other than to paint, study German and clean. I'll probably go for some long walks if the weather is nice.

Shedding

2010-11-20T04:14:23Z

I'm leaving Chicago permanently for Berlin on Tuesday, November 30th, which is little more than a week away. Getting rid of everything hasn't been easy, especially tonight when I dragged my easel out to the trash. It's wobbly and held together in places with duct tape, but I've loved it and used it for years. I couldn't actually put it in one of the dumpsters, that would be too painful. As a compromise I stood it beside them, hopeful that some starving easel-less artist will wander by and suddenly find my old treasure lurking in the alley.

On the walls of Berlin

2010-08-21T19:24:43Z

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Berlin or Bust

2010-06-22T18:05:20Z

Most people don't really understand where I'm coming from when my eyes burn and I tell them, "I've got to get the hell out of Chicago." After all, this isn't a bad city at all. It's not too expensive, I've got a great studio here, and I know some amazing artists in town who I can pal around with. I have connections here, and I have friends and family here. I just had a show of my work this spring and tons of people came - why would I want to leave?

Because Chicago isn't an artist's city.

It's not that artists can't live or create great work here, but their art careers certainly aren't going to go anywhere if they confine themselves to the Chicago city limits. In order to be shown at one of the better galleries in town (note: there are no great galleries in town) they must belong to a very small clique of individuals that graduated from one of three academic art programs here (although if you don't have an MFA, God help you). So we're talking about a VERY small number of artists here that are accepted as such. They all know each other, they all support each other, and they all ostracize anyone who isn't in their clique. Here's the really fucked up thing, though: Despite having spent an insane amount of time and money on art school, not a single one of them has any real artistic skill. They can talk your ear off with big words and run art theory circles around you, but in the end, their actual ART is crap because they were never taught how to make art, they were taught about art theory. That's okay, though because their main objective isn't to make great art, it's to climb the art world ladder. So, in summary, the Chicago art world consists of a small number of emperors, all wearing no clothes.

The gallery owners here know the professors and help to promote the grad students when they graduate; it's a closed system, and I have no chance of breaking in. Besides that, my art isn't trendy enough, and it's too aesthetic. I don't deal with all of the conceptual drivel that the emperors were taught in school, so my art isn't relevant here. If I remain in Chicago, I will always remain on the sidelines, showing at alternative spaces, garden walks and cafés, and never allowed to play with the big kids.

And aside from all of that, there are other big problems for an artist living in Chicago.

People who live in Chicago don't buy art. This is a town of hard working people who don't have time for culture. We go to the bar, we watch the game, we drive our cars, we go to the movies... we don't buy fine art. And the tiny handful of eccentrics with deep pockets that do, certainly aren't going to buy a piece from the guy down the street, they're going to get their art from New York or L.A. or London or Berlin, because then it's For Real. And really, who can blame them, with all the nude Chicago emperors running around calling themselves artists? I wouldn't want to buy art here either if I didn't know better. But the bottom line is this: if you're an artist living in Chicago, you're either showing your work in New York or LA, or you have a day job you're never going to give up.

I've seen what this town has done to world class artists who have tried to stick it out here and make things work, and I'm getting the hell out now. Why Berlin? Well, why not. I don't see myself living in either L.A. or New York, so I'm looking to other parts of the world. London's expensive, and Paris doesn't interest me. I love Germany, I love Berlin, and I feel at home there more than any other city in the world aside from Chicago, so Berlin it is. People tell me the art scene isn't what it was 10 years ago, but that's no reason to give up and remain in a city that pushes me to the sidelines. I refuse to be overlooked because I didn't spend $100K on an art education that doesn't teach anything about how to make art, and I refuse to grovel at people's feet and beg them to accept me and let me join their awful little clique.

While I'm sure Berlin will have it's own issues, and I can't imagine they'll all great me with open arms and a red carpet, it's at least an international cultural hub with a lot of stuff going on. Chicago will never be culturally relevant as long as a the ruling clique continues to squash original thought and look to bigger cities to give it cues. It's turned into a city of ambitious imitators, one of which I could never be a part.
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"Paper+Paint" at Eyeporium Gallery

2010-03-30T01:21:34Z

Opening reception April 2nd, 6pm-9pm

Marianna Levant and I hung our work at Eyeporium on Saturday afternoon, and the installation looks phenomenal - it's going to be a great show.

The gallery moved to a nicer, bigger space, and this is the first show at the new location. They're installing track lighting this week, so hopefully they'll have the show well lit by Friday for the opening.

I left catalogs of my work behind the counter. We'd meant to do a show catalog together, but Marianna was still in the midst of creating her work and, understandably, didn't want to rush it. So rather than drop the project altogether, I went ahead and put together a catalog for myself. The books cost me a pretty penny - I went with the premium paper - but they look fantastic and I'm really happy with the way they turned out.

Discovered

2009-12-10T04:14:16Z

On Sunday evening the sun set and I forgot to close the blinds. It was around 5pm and I was at my computer when I heard a rustling outside the front windows; I looked up to see that there were roughly a dozen neighborhood kids staring in my studio windows with wide eyes and jaws dropped. I suppose it must have been strange to suddenly catch a glimpse of my odd, colorful little world. All the paintings that cover the walls and floor, my parrot sitting in his manzanita tree, the gramophone... When they saw me notice them one girl waved and yelled "will you paint ME???" I laughed and waved back, shaking my head. I paint abstract, what can I say? Embarrassed, I politely lowered the blinds. If it had just been a few I would have invited them in, but a dozen kids in here? That would have been nuts.

Guns and Butter

2009-08-09T14:10:06Z

Back in 2002 I did a series of paintings called "Guns and Butter". They were plain color fields with stenciled objects spray painted on them, and the stencils were of things that are glamorous yet bad for us; specifically, guns, wedding cakes, and my old '68 Dodge Polara. It was a pretty nice series, and I had a couple pieces sell.

Pink Magnum was bought by a girl who's father had killed himself with a magnum handgun. She called me up and asked to meet with me at the cafe where I was showing, and we spoke over coffee. When I found out why she was buying my piece I felt awful. I didn't want her to be reminded of her loss every time she looked at my painting.

But in those days I was desperately poor. So I took the $100 and handed over the painting.

The second painting from that series sold five months later when I showed my work at Around the Coyote. I'd been positioned in a horrible stairwell in a studio about half a mile from the epicenter of the festival, and very few people wandered by to see my work. Generally they were just kids out getting drunk or people who wanted to do something "cultural" but who had no real intention of buying any art. I sat on the hard steps of the stairwell the entire weekend, and endured the awful behavior of the women who's studio it was. They had a tendency to bully in a passive-aggressive way, and in order to keep the peace I'd had to go spend $40 I didn't have on wine and cheese. But I think the real reason they were so mean to me was because I actually sold a piece, and despite all their art degrees, I don't think they did.

A charismatic middle-aged woman with a small entourage of family and friends came through on Saturday afternoon and she was immediately taken by Pink Cake. I don't remember if she actually bought it on the spot or if she came back for it the next day, but I do remember that after she made the purchase her son came up to me. "I don't think you know who my mother is," he told me. "She's a big collector. The fact that she bought one of your pieces makes me think I should, too." He told me about how his mother had either helped to discover the Outsider art movement or maybe she was just a massive supporter of it - I don't completely recall - but in any case, she was apparently a Big Deal.

The part of this story that kills me - well, there are actually TWO parts of this story that kill me - Number One is that I lost the check she gave me, and Number Two is that I never had a chance to photograph the painting before I handed it over to her.

Two years later I actually found the check she'd written out to me, but rather than cash it or save it or even bother to write down her name, I destroyed it, feeling that it would be rude to cash a check so long after it was written. If only I could go back in time and stop myself from shredding it - I could have at least saved it as a souvenir. But all that's in the past now. Abegetan.

The cockroach mercy killer

2009-08-09T05:48:43Z

I come across a large insect struggling on the sidewalk, about an inch long, maybe a bit bigger. It's a cockroach, and two of it's back legs are smashed. It's a hot, muggy August night and the creature must have wandered out from the safety of the cozy drain it's been living in for the past decade, only to be partially mashed by an errant shoe or bicycle tire. The thing is trying to maneuver itself, struggling over and over to move it's oozing legs and walk, but it makes no progress, and it's antennae twirl in agitation. I watch it for a moment and I wonder if it is in pain? If it is afraid? I know it can't have long to live in this condition, smashed up like it is. It must have a nervous system. Of course it does. Of course it has some sense of distress. So that's it, down comes my shoe and I smash it as hard as I can. There, it's done.

I look up and see that I am near a ritzy club with all sorts of slinky girls hanging around outside the entrance. They wear satin hot pants and silky dresses paired with high high heels, and I feel so different from them. Gold Diggers; they're the future Wives of America, the future Mothers of America, laughing loudly as they're gently petted, prodded and shepherded around by their boyfriends.

And I'm the Cockroach Mercy Killer.

My lungs are in pain tonight and I'm not so sure this bronchitis is going to go away on it's own after all. Monday I will go see a doctor if my condition has not improved; walking Pneumonia is not something I want to deal with.

Teeth

2009-07-10T22:04:59Z

This has to be the strangest thing I've ever found in my alley - several sets of plaster teeth:

A little black box just sitting on top of a dumpster getting rained on. Of course I had to see what was inside the little drawers, and of course I had to stow it in my bag when I discovered it was teeth!

Scar tissue

2009-06-30T16:36:46Z

Finished this piece this morning. It was a fight until the end, culminating in a blue glaze and the complete removal of the original surface.

The Firehouse at Dawn

2009-05-28T05:45:24Z

I reworked the surface, and now I'm happy with it.

I feel that this piece, as well as Glasser, are on a whole new level when compared to all my other work. The old paintings look dingy and stiff to me now, while the two new ones look so colorful and fresh.

Ruin

2009-05-18T17:31:16Z

A building being torn down along Chicago Avenue, seen early this morning.

The firehouse at dawn

2009-05-16T16:07:32Z

With unsanded edges and untrimmed top and bottom, this new 20"x20" piece is a departure from what I typically do, and I'm still trying to decide how I feel about it.