Category: art

  • Professional Blog Advice May Not Work for Artists

    Artists bloggingI'm going to use a lot of generalizations here, so if that is your only comment at the end, save it. 

    After a profoundly enjoyable evening with a local writer's group, I walked away with a newfound sense of appreciation for artists. I am an artist, though you couldn't tell by my daily production. Duty calls for marketing messages that compel readers to act. But at my center, I am a poet and creative writer. 

    And while the tips from Copyblogger, Problogger and dozens of blogging, branding, and marketing experts are invaluable for corporate blogs, the same principles are stifling and unnatural for many strictly creative types. I call all creative types "artists", because anything creative can be art: words, paint, dance, sculpture, song, design, etc. 

    I've spent the lion's share of this site's existence on marketing principles recommended by the experts. The danger there is missing the forest for the trees. CultureFeast will be two years old in November. Prior to this, the only writing I showed anyone outside the office was poetry, prose, or journal entries that I felt were worth sharing. 

    You have to be careful not to suffocate your art with marketing. It happens all the time. You have something worth sharing, but in order to get the public's attention, you have to walk a fine line balancing marketing and artistic sincerity. 

    My advice: read the tips and study effective marketing strategies, but realize that they must not overtake the art. Balance. It's not a fun word. It's not a sexy word. Balance is not a popular concept, because it's one of those responsibilities people don't want to take the time to mess with.

    Be true to your art. Look for ways to hone your craft that can make it more successful without losing power. Whether you post words, photos, or video, there are sure-fire ways to improve your presentation without sacrificing content. There are also plenty of opportunities to focus on results rather than the message.

    There are enough self-improvement gurus already. Guard your art with your life! If you don't, you'll discover that the purpose of your art has declined from the pleasure of creation to that of recognition. Recognition is wonderful, but it's fickle and fleeting. The first and foremost active ingredient in successful artistry is quality product. Preserve quality at all cost.  


  • Art Show for Tyler Huntzinger

    Congratulations are in order for artist Tyler Huntzinger who, along with David Meikle, was introduced to the public at an artist reception at EVERGREEN Framing Co. & Gallery. The reception was held on Friday, November 17th, between 6-9pm in Salt Lake City, Utah. I was unable to attend, unfortunately, but I have seen copies of Huntzinger paintings, and I am thoroughly impressed.

    I am a huge fan of his, both personally and professionally. My wife and I met Tyler and Charlotte Huntzinger on a Caribbean cruise. They are quality people. In the short time we spent together, my wife and I grew to be quite fond of them. Perhaps someday I’ll be able to talk him into flying down to Dallas and painting a mural for our home. Hats off to Tyler Huntzinger and best wishes to his wife, Charlotte!


  • Memories of Valentine’s Day

    I haven’t written anything here in quite some time. There’s not enough time in the day to get everything done and have the accompanying panic attacks. Today being what it is – Valentine’s Day – I thought I should at least attempt to write something thematic.

    The painting to the right is of Trinity Valentine at age 18. Who is that? I have no idea. Her last name’s Valentine… that’s thematic enough. The painter is Fred Burkhart. The surrounding blues are so startlingly blue in comparison to the black outline of her face and the lighter tones of her hair and face. I don’t know… something about it captivated me. You can see more paintings by this artist at www.burkhartstudios.com.

    As for Valentine’s Day proper, I am reminded of Valentine’s Day 2004. Heather and I had been married a whopping 18 days, and I was on a mission: to find the perfect kitty that Heather has been wanting for more than ten years. I was one of those Valentine’s Day haters. It was and still is my firm belief that a man who loves his wife finds special ways to show his love throughout the year, not just on some day that someone randomly chose as a day of romance. I personally resent it, though less now than I used to.

    The point of it is to make men feel so guilty at the thought of not buying something for their wife or girlfriend that they end up feeling obligated to go spend money so that she won’t be the only woman at work or at church who didn’t get some token of how special she is to her man.

    I so totally lucked out! The first place I stopped, PetSmart, had one little Siamese Snowshoe with piercing blue eyes. I was transfixed. Doubt crept in. What if Heather gets mad that I adopted a cat without even consulting with her? It was risky. It’s the kind of thing careless married couples fight about all the time.

    I was going to drive around and think about it, when this couple walked up and started cooing over the same kitten. Panic. What if someone else chooses him while I’m still thinking? Can I take that chance? No. I cannot. He’s too beautiful. He’s too perfect. It’s him or nothing.

    He was so tiny. So precious. He cried all the way home. I sang to him to calm him down. When we got home, my wife was taking a shower, probably getting ready for a possible Valentine’s Day dinner. I carried the kitty into the bedroom, opened the bathroom door just a crack, and gently nudged him on. I closed the door and listened carefully.

    Five seconds later, I hear Heather gasp. I hear the shower door open and she says, “Where did you come from, kitty?” in the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard her use. The rest was history. She fell in love with our new cat, and he has been an irreplaceable member of the family ever since. Now, whenever a gift-giving holiday comes around, she always tells me, “Just give me Mr. Kitty again. Wrap a bow around him and give him to me as a present!”

    I haven’t tried it yet. Somehow, I think the idea of it might be a little cuter than how it might play out for real. Still, Mr. Kitty earns me bonus points on every holiday when my wife remembers how wonderful it was to receive the perfect kitty on a day I had never previously celebrated.


  • Discovering Anselm Kiefer

    It was the fall of 2001. 9/11 was on the horizon. I was studying in Denmark for a semester and enjoying the early autumn light. My fellow students and I were given tours of several attractions and museums early in the semester. I was introduced to Anselm Kiefer’s work at the Louisiana Museum.

    I was captivated instantly when I saw Kiefer’s paintings. They had an industrial quality to them that spoke to me of the sadness and despair of the modern era. Factories, concrete, fascism, and war are themes that jump out to me. There was something lost to the civilized world during that period.I’m not exactly advocating tree hugging, but a sadness crept into the world with the loss of natural beauty and the introduction of smog, grinding metallic sounds, and cold steel.

    Gone are the days of warm tones and gentle breezes, peaceful meadows and openhearted human interaction. Kiefer depicted this change with such power. Swirling greys and blacks, smokestacks and the loss of color.I do not recommend his work to anyone looking for a cheerful, uplifting scene. However, the emotional realism conveyed in his work reminds us what we’ve forsaken, and causes the human heart to appreciate the cost of “forward progress” by experiencing a sharp sense of loss. I am told that not all of Kiefer’s work is so grey. I am told that some of it is even quite elegant and beautiful.

    For some reason, I am surprised. How does a man find it within himself to evoke both the depths and the heights of existence from his soul and pour them out onto canvas?