Savage Art Studio

A contrast in artistic styles.

Art is so subjective. This is merely my opinion. On my recent trip to Amsterdam I was struck by the contrast between art styles, bouncing from old masters to 20th century artists. Anyone that knows me knows that I tend to favour Dutch masters in general and Rembrandt in particular. There is something about Rembrandt that gripped me from an early age, there is an atmosphere to his paintings, a particular way of using the light, a subtlety and yet such a close attention to detail. I had the pleasure of seeing his work at his house on Jodenbreestrat and at the Rijks Museum. Over the course of our four day visit we went round a number of museums and galleries including the Hermitage where the contrast between old and new was very striking. I delighted in the old masters and found myself scratching my head at the Picassos’. It is true to say that I am not fond of Picasso’s work but having seen his work in Barcelona last year I had thought I was warming to him, understanding what he had to say even if I didn’t like the art. Seeing his work after the old masters seemed to revive all the things I dislike about Cubism and some forms of modem art. There is a particular painting which is a black square, I stood and looked at it trying to desperately justify it as art in my mind. I know I risk the title of philistine, which might well be fair, but looking at the black square with a grubby white border the only think I can say is the paint was applied smoothly, though the white was grubby. Maybe it was supposed to be grubby, I don’t know.

On the up side Modern Art at its best is superb, ground breaking, inventive and a joy to see. And at its worst… well, it is always nice to see hung on a wall in a prestigious gallery a piece of art that frankly most present day artists would have put into the bin for recycling. It is subjective. This is merely my humble opinion but I think it gives hope to all aspiring artists.

• Revamping my website! New page of aviation pictures is now up, take a look and let me know what you think!… http://bit.ly/ckQnhS #

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Thoughts of a friend.

I had the sad news the other morning of the loss of a friend and fellow author, Robert Cloud.

I met Robert Cloud for the first time in a Yahoo internet chat room. My friend was a proud Native American and he asked me to call him Cloud. We were chatting with our mutual friend, Laurie Sanders, CEO of Black Velvet Seductions. We were discussing the cover of his book, “A Toy’s Story”, which was the first project I worked on with Cloud and BVS. Cloud was many things, a talented writer with a great way of telling a good story. He was a charming man and a very creative individual. Working with him as an artist, he had a clear vision of what he wanted. When we worked on his cover he described the scene perfectly. Our next project was as cover artist and as a writer with the paranormal anthology, “The Crimson Z”. I was the cover artist but it was Cloud’s vision. My contribution to the anthology was my first published story, “The Anniversary”. I remember how encouraging and supportive he was, also how talented he was at tying our stories together. He didn’t have the easiest of home lives but I know in the last few years he found true happiness with Misty and my condolences go out to her. This is a sad day, I feel the loss; he was very much cared for by all the BVS family.

Where did all the prison camp guards go?

There has been a question that has been vexing me for a long time now and I might just have a solution… did you ever wonder what happened to the prison camp guards? I mean, sure, lots were caught and lots were tried at the Nuremburg trials. Some got away, had kids that had kids. The question is… what happened to them? Did they become accountants? Nope, don’t think so, too interesting. Did they become road sweepers? Nope, too exciting. What about nuclear physicists? Again, too interesting… so where are they? I can now reveal…. they are all working as doctor’s RECEPTIONISTS!

Let me start by saying that I regard the British health service as a great institution and something that should be the envy of the world. Both myself and all my family members have a lot to be grateful for from the doctors and nurses that work in this country. I want to make it clear before I hear the thwack of rubber gloves being donned, I have no argument or problem with the doctors or nurses…. it is just that when I was into my second consecutive sinus infection, feeling quite ill, and my wife had been bullying me for a week to call the doctor, I finally picked up the phone and the last thing I really wanted to come up against was the descendent of a guard of Stalag Luft III. Before you get the idea that I am an inconsiderate git, that wants to be seen here and now, I understand that I might not get to see my choice of doctor. My first enquiry was to see my own doctor, day or night, any time this week, not a chance. My second request was for another doctor any time this week, not a chance…. then any doctor today? I was informed that one doctor might have two slots open for later in the day. The word “might” kind of stuck. It was at that moment I made my discovery. I felt like Richard Attenborough in “The Great Escape” being told his papers were not in order. I understand that receptionists are doing a job but Christ they enjoy the roll of gate keeper. I resent having to feel that I have to beg to see a doctor, that I am made to feel I am being granted a favour to get relatively simple treatment.

Oh, by the way, I got one of the two opened slots and I got my antibiotics, but I still object to the performance of getting the appointment.

• Blogged about my book, Beauty in Every Form, today: http://bit.ly/avxBkR http://bit.ly/ce1ERd #

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Beauty in the eye of the beholder

I have been working on my book “Beauty in Every Form” for a little over a year now. It started as a stroll in the park, a ramble through a few of my thoughts on the subject of beauty which is a subject I do feel passionately about. My thoughts were accompanied by a few of my life drawings and some thoughts from a few friends on the subject. In a nutshell, my thoughts are: I think it is a shame that the world is so judgmental and a pity that people are made to feel bad that they don’t conform to some imaginary air brushed standard. In essence, there is nothing wrong with just being as we are.

Well, my quiet stroll has turned into something of a marathon. I am happier with it for all of that, it is now a much deeper work exploring the topic in great depth with 50 – 60 contributors. The book as it now stands is a much better piece and I feel sure it will have a much broader appeal than my original concept.

It has been a kind of bittersweet journey for me; the contributions have been brilliant and I feel so honoured that people have been so willing to share their life experiences in such an open way. I suppose the only down side is the time. The contributions seem to have taken an age to get in; to be fair most have sent things in swiftly, some seem to have taken longer though which is a little frustrating. The book as it stands now is just about to go into the editing stage and I hope it will soon be out for release. I can’t wait for you to read it. Watch this space….

• Don’t forget the Honest John Charity Calendar is still available for sale! It’s an 18 month calendar so it’s… http://bit.ly/dgH3m2 #

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Revisiting your past…

Quite a common theme, I know, but…. I have spent the weekend working on some editorial which will be featured in next month’s Erotic Knave Magazine. I will get onto to the content in a minute but while I was writing the article it occurred to me “how times have changed”. Thirty years ago it would have been me buying the top shelf magazines, now I my words and pictures appear in them. I have been featured in Penthouse Forum, Erotic Knave, Knave, Fiesta and Scarlet Magazine on a number of occasions. Stepping stones on the career path.

The content in the latest “Erotic Knave Magazine” is a simple one, how erotic art can turn your bedroom into a boudoir. Art can be such an inspirational thing and I know from my own dealings with my clients that their tastes vary dramatically. Though in the variety there is one constant; the art draws them together, a catalyst for aspiration or expression of their love. Where art around the house may tell one story, art in the boudoir can tell quite another, the art there is much more personal. Live in and love the space you are in…. make it yours.

Self Esteem

Self esteem, or more to the point low self esteem, is a complicated topic. It came up in the studio the other day and it has been a floating topic of conversation for quite a while. For most it comes from our formative years at school, certainly a lot of mine does. If the voodoo dolly actually works, a lot of my English teachers will have felt pierced by a needle or too. Other negative experiences at school came, for most of us, from our fellow classmates, who excel in the potential to be exceptionally nasty. I have spent a long time thinking about the subject and, as a Darwinist, I believe the survival of the fittest is never more present than in the playground.

“Man, however well behaved, at best is but a monkey shaved”

I have often thought that some alternative lifestyles, D/s, artistic temperament, manic depression and, to a degree, sadomasochism are all quite subtly intertwined. Most of us know profoundly our weaknesses; we live with them and it strikes me as one of life’s little ironies that we spend so much of our precious time building our own customised stick, tailor made to hurt ourselves and nag away at our insecurities.

It seems to me that no matter what credits and accolades I might have I will never really believe I have any real artistic talent. That, in a nutshell, is my personal stick. And, believe me, my stick is big and has long sharp nails in it. It brings up another couple of valid points. The first: Do I have talent? I am assuming that the people who buy and commission paintings, book covers and illustrations think I have. So, why the doubt? That is where I run out of answers. It seems that regardless of the credits, the tangible list of achievements, that the nag of self doubt is still there. The voice that whispers in your ear in the dark, “I am not good enough”, it never really goes away.

I do draw some comfort from a Stephen Fry documentary I saw on the subject of manic depression. He was very honest and open and the documentary was very moving. If such a talent as Stephen Fry is still riddled with such crushing self doubt, and he can fight it, then there is some hope for the rest of us.

Goodbye to a Friend

Last week was a tough week in a lot of respects, not least of which was the funeral of an old friend of mine, the artist Chris Carr. Coming from this part of the world I know that Yorkshire men seem to fall into one of two camps, the brash and brassy or the reserved. Chris was definitely in the latter category, a very self deprecating sort of a bloke, such a nice guy that never really saw what the rest of us did, what a truly gifted artist he was. When I first met Chris I was struck by his rather understated sense of humour and then by his skill with an air brush. It was a pleasure seeing him develop as an artist, his later work achieved a photo-realistic quality.

Chris was very much a family man too, I know he thought the world of his wife, Jo, and his son, Noah. He also spoke with great affection about all his family. The turn out at his funeral reflected the great number of friends. It was a very emotional ceremony, “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, sung to involve little Noah, brought a lump to many throats. The priest made several very good points: “Do we mourn the loss, or celebrate the life?”, “Are we sad for all the things that were left undone or pleased for all that was achieved?”

All of which is true. I am proud to have known Chris and delighted to have called him friend yet, as an artist myself, when I consider losing Chris at the age of 43, I cannot help but reflect on all the painting he still had left to do…. I will miss my friend.