Water, air and light

I recently spent some time in Fiji, trekking in the forest and hills, and wandering along the coast. Many of the people I met lived directly from the land and the sea: gardening, hunting, gathering and fishing. I became intrigued by the lagoon environment near the village I stayed in. The folks there lived as part of an environment, not on top of it as we do here in Australia. It was far from idyllic, in case you're thinking I'd had one too many kava bowls, but it was certainly more integrated into the surroundings: to the pigs and tavioka in the forest, to the fish and coconuts on the coast and to everyone in the village, and the neighbouring villages.

Reef V 2014, Acrylic on linen, 82 x 82 cm

The calm water of the lagoon contrasted with the distant booming of the surf on the reef several hundred metres away. The vast and powerful South Pacific reduced to a thin sliver of horizon. I made sketches, standing waist-deep in the water, fish nibbling my legs. On the days when it rained, the world turned silver and grey. I found that I would often lose my balance as the horizon was so faint that the sky and sea seemed to merge into one. I was a landscape painter in a landscape with almost nothing in it. What to do?

Reef III (Quiet Day) 2014, Acrylic on linen, 82 x 82 cm

Reef 6 2014, Acrylic on linen, 102 x 102 cm

Kids eh?

A friend remarked that my paintings were like my babies. Well, maybe so, except they don't rely on me for anything, don't wake me at night, don't need me to change their nappies, and they never cover my shoulder in milky sick. Mind you, they are a bit like grown up kids though. The successful ones are scattered across the globe; they never call or write, not even a birthday card, and the, um, less successful ones (although equally loved of course) hang around the house, cluttering the place up and generally getting in the way. When will they go?

Go out and get a f**kin job, the lot of you.

Preview of new artwork

House

Artist Lars Stenberg talks about his latest art project.

House, a site-specific, time-based work will take shape in two phases. The first phase, a collaborative sculptural project between the artist, Westpac and Bunnings, explores the tension between the empty, unfinished volume of the building and the unceasing monthly mortgage repayments. The second, performance-focused, phase will involve selected members of the public who will “live” in the space created in the first phase, interacting with the work and contributing to it by fortnightly electronic transfer.

“Like my last work Car, House is a truly post-modern exercise,” said Stenberg, “as it employs self-knowing irony to explore the banal and uninteresting concerns of a middle class, middle aged man, and cleverly fuses the most popular contemporary method of expression, financial accrual, with traditional techniques such as painting and nailing things together.”

House builds upon the success of Stenberg’s most notorious work Personal Pension, a 45 year performance in which the artist burns an ever increasing sum of money every month, and which was shortlisted for the What Investor? product of the year in 2006.

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Red Dot or Not

Three and a half easy ways to earn a living as an artist

The Red Dot is the goal of many artists. The Red Dot confers on the artist (after a suitable wait for the gallery to process the payment and remove their commission) almost superhuman powers such as the ability to pay rent or their overdue electricity bill. In quantity the Red Dot can produce a kind of mania and artists who have the Red Dot can be seen in supermarkets spending lavishly on basic food items that are not on special or near their sell-by date. This all sounds great but beware. Artists who have too many Red Dots may be seen by commercial galleries as “product”. Do you really want to be painting the same picture in ten years time? And remember, you’re only as good as your last show.

Then there are artists who shun the Red Dot. For them it is a symbol of a system that forces artists to sell their souls and prostitute their abilities to produce meaningless gewgaws for the bourgeoisie. They are the Cutting Edge, challenging the concepts and conceits of Art and refusing to sell out to the system. They remain true to themselves by competing for official government support in the form of grants and residencies. Filling out application forms and lobbying decision makers can often be time consuming and in many cases these artists see grant applications and social networking as part of their art form.

The third way to earn a living as an artist is to earn a living doing something else. What that might be depends on the artist but it is often wise to choose something that offers flexible hours and does not involve creativity so that can be saved for making art. Administration and hospitality are popular choices. Infantry soldier and trawler fisherman less so. Nightshifts can be handy for artists who prefer to work in daylight. Aside from the ability to eat and pay rent, a big advantage of this method is that it allows artists to experience "real life" which in turn can give their art more "meaning". Experiencing real life, along with a working class background and claiming an indigenous great-grandmother are essential for any artist who wants to be written about in a lifestyle magazine. Being attractive and/or having a nice house can also help.

For artists at the beginning of their "career" (as it’s been called since the 80’s) it should be noted that none of these methods is guaranteed to net financial success. In only a few cases will the Red Dot sales approach make the artist permanently wealthy. Government agendas change often and only artists adept at predicting fashions can rely on grants. The third method is not without danger too. The seductive lure of eating regularly and being able to socialise with friends who have proper jobs can lead to voluntarily taking on more hours until there is little time left for art making. So the “three-and-a-halfth” method, and the most sustainable, is to do all three, in a balance that suits.

A final sober word of caution. Many students at Art School (or “university” as it’s been called since the 90’s) view the idea of doing nothing but make art as a sort of holy grail. When you’re surrounded by other people making art in a social atmosphere it’s easy to imagine doing just that for the rest of your days. The reality is that often art-making is a very solitary occupation and anyone considering being an artist for the rest of their lives should consider how they might balance that with other activities that keep them human. Even if you don’t need the money, maybe that barista job is a good idea.