TRM Chicago, or The Running Man, is an online magazine based right here in the Windy City. Ashley Joyce, one of the writers and co-founders of TRM, interviewed me about my work and ideas a short while back. The result of that bit of interlocution is this article, a perceptive and beautifully written bit that neatly sums up some of my overall working philosophies. You can read that article (and further explore The Running Man) HERE.
In other news, I recently delivered some paintings to the new CorePower Yoga in Bucktown. These works will be displayed for the next 8 weeks in the studio's fresh and lovely new lobby, located at 1704 N. Milwaukee Ave., in Chicago. Stop on by, check out the work, and get into a down dog.
Last but not least, the very first release by my band Population is available now, on Lifetime Problems. You can order and/or learn more about this product HERE.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
New Work: 'Fear and Autonomy'
I've just completed a new piece entitled Fear and Autonomy. It's dimensions are 76x101cm or 30"x40", acrylic on panel. (Please click on image for a higher resolution view.) A statement and description of this piece follows:
Much of my current work explores the existentialities of human experience. In the painting Fear and Autonomy, I have focused on the plight of the individual within a world of influence and oppression. On a daily basis we are bombarded by conflicting interests in culture, faith, politics, and relationships. The individual self can be literally overwhelmed by these waves of dissension and stimulus, its faltering ego washed overboard into swirling seas of cultural excess.
In this work I have endeavored to depict an ego enmeshed within the trappings of divergent cultural effects, the colorful but often questionable results of our meandering pursuits for meaning and personal resonance in this modern age. Between affectations and pretensions that belie our insecurities we find paranoia and fear; the curse of living in a world where information rests at our fingertips is the ever-lurking reality that we are not at all omniscient, and truth is as elusive as ever.
The female figure in Fear and Autonomy seems to be floating toward the sky, and consequently the unknown. As the mythic account of Daedalus and his fated son Icarus implies, there is danger in this undertaking. I co-opted “terror eyes“, large blow-up balls marketed to ward off pigeons and starlings, as symbols of the paranoia-inducing tumult of the kinetic world around us. The composition of this painting was meant to induce a chaotic dynamism even while an equilibrium is evident.
Much of my current work explores the existentialities of human experience. In the painting Fear and Autonomy, I have focused on the plight of the individual within a world of influence and oppression. On a daily basis we are bombarded by conflicting interests in culture, faith, politics, and relationships. The individual self can be literally overwhelmed by these waves of dissension and stimulus, its faltering ego washed overboard into swirling seas of cultural excess.
In this work I have endeavored to depict an ego enmeshed within the trappings of divergent cultural effects, the colorful but often questionable results of our meandering pursuits for meaning and personal resonance in this modern age. Between affectations and pretensions that belie our insecurities we find paranoia and fear; the curse of living in a world where information rests at our fingertips is the ever-lurking reality that we are not at all omniscient, and truth is as elusive as ever.
The female figure in Fear and Autonomy seems to be floating toward the sky, and consequently the unknown. As the mythic account of Daedalus and his fated son Icarus implies, there is danger in this undertaking. I co-opted “terror eyes“, large blow-up balls marketed to ward off pigeons and starlings, as symbols of the paranoia-inducing tumult of the kinetic world around us. The composition of this painting was meant to induce a chaotic dynamism even while an equilibrium is evident.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
The Art of Determination
Insight is often a double-edged sword: I’ve just had a “Eureka!” moment and realized that I’ve been doing something all wrong. Problem solved, but now to make up for lost time. Art is like life, learning from one’s mistakes, displacing the water in the bath and being pleased with the mess. Now to get on with it and run naked through the streets...
I've often felt that the old story about Archimedes and his bathtub had a slight apocryphal ring to it. There's such a touch of apologue in its retelling, of moral connotation. First off there's the obvious lesson of letting one's problems rest. Often we work ourselves to near death, chipping away at the obstacles before us, blind to the simpler routes obscured by our own myopic resolve.
Last night while working away at a problem of my own, I found myself reminded of Archimedes and that tub of his. While coming to realize the answers to the issues at hand, I'd happily solved the problem, but felt concommitantly that all too familiar sting of knowing that I'd spent days going in circles. Time wasted, and nothing's more precious.
But how would I have ever come around to the truth if I hadn't made those mistakes? Consequently that time was never fruitless, but was rather well spent. Some water had to get spilled before the answers could come to the surface. It's that old adage of try, try, and try again. Again, and again. I'm sure that an engineer like Archimedes was familiar with such determinations as that of seeing his goals through unlimited failures. And in the end it really is worth running about naked in the street, just like Archimedes supposedly did, if those failure's are finally trumped by triumph. It's the next obvious step, as the artist is stripped for the next challenge. It's either that or redundancy. That's what makes true art more than a practice, the continuous struggle to conquer oneself, to see through every conceivable difficulty toward every conceivable perfection. And so on, because it's never really finished with one all-encompassing solution. Just like life. We're pretty much naked little babies before every new problem, we just have to hold on to our humanity and see ourselves through. And take a moment now and then to relax, both in and out of the bath, because rest is as vital as work.
I've often felt that the old story about Archimedes and his bathtub had a slight apocryphal ring to it. There's such a touch of apologue in its retelling, of moral connotation. First off there's the obvious lesson of letting one's problems rest. Often we work ourselves to near death, chipping away at the obstacles before us, blind to the simpler routes obscured by our own myopic resolve.
Last night while working away at a problem of my own, I found myself reminded of Archimedes and that tub of his. While coming to realize the answers to the issues at hand, I'd happily solved the problem, but felt concommitantly that all too familiar sting of knowing that I'd spent days going in circles. Time wasted, and nothing's more precious.
But how would I have ever come around to the truth if I hadn't made those mistakes? Consequently that time was never fruitless, but was rather well spent. Some water had to get spilled before the answers could come to the surface. It's that old adage of try, try, and try again. Again, and again. I'm sure that an engineer like Archimedes was familiar with such determinations as that of seeing his goals through unlimited failures. And in the end it really is worth running about naked in the street, just like Archimedes supposedly did, if those failure's are finally trumped by triumph. It's the next obvious step, as the artist is stripped for the next challenge. It's either that or redundancy. That's what makes true art more than a practice, the continuous struggle to conquer oneself, to see through every conceivable difficulty toward every conceivable perfection. And so on, because it's never really finished with one all-encompassing solution. Just like life. We're pretty much naked little babies before every new problem, we just have to hold on to our humanity and see ourselves through. And take a moment now and then to relax, both in and out of the bath, because rest is as vital as work.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Insomnia and Me.
Something about the act of sleep has always bothered me. Or rather the need to sleep. As long as I can remember I've had issues in the sack, mainly how to stay in it and use it purposefully. If you listen to my mother she'll recite adorable little stories about yours truly around the age of the crib: if she had to sneak through my room during nap time, she'd have to move on tiptoe lest I'd wake up. But I always did wake up, if I was ever really asleep in the first place.
I've never been able to just let go, let the circadian rhythms do their work. My brain never stops, there's just to much to think about and too little time to waste on something as ridiculous as sleep. Or so I've always felt, although my body disagrees. And so we tangle the good fight between ecstasy and exhaustion; some weeks are productive, full of high strung energies, while other weeks are grim, the lack of rest wearing thin. And then I crash.
Last night was one of those sleepless nights. I was cleaning out some files to make room for more rubbish and I came across some old sketches and conceptual renderings that I've hardly shared and never posted. Here's one, dealing with a dichotomy as distinct as that of reality and dreams, or something like that:
2008, watercolor & ink
I've never been able to just let go, let the circadian rhythms do their work. My brain never stops, there's just to much to think about and too little time to waste on something as ridiculous as sleep. Or so I've always felt, although my body disagrees. And so we tangle the good fight between ecstasy and exhaustion; some weeks are productive, full of high strung energies, while other weeks are grim, the lack of rest wearing thin. And then I crash.
Last night was one of those sleepless nights. I was cleaning out some files to make room for more rubbish and I came across some old sketches and conceptual renderings that I've hardly shared and never posted. Here's one, dealing with a dichotomy as distinct as that of reality and dreams, or something like that:
Monday, August 2, 2010
Commission: 'Charles de Foucauld', by the Church of the Holy Paraclete, Providence, RI
As mentioned below, I'd like to share with you a recently completed commissioned piece. I don't normally share such work publicly, due to the private nature of most commissioned pieces, portraits, etc. However, due to the public nature of the subject in this work, I thought prudent to do otherwise. This painting was commissioned by Fr. Jakob-Lazarus of the Church of the Holy Paraclete in Providence, RI. The subject in the work is Bl. Charles de Foucauld, a French Catholic priest who spent years living amongst the Tuareg of the Sahara in Algeria. He was martyred in 1916 and beatified by the Pope Benedict XVI in 2005. Fr. Jakob felt that my style coincided perfectly with his vision for a modern icon. I have to admit that I was very excited getting to work on such a project; brought up in a Catholic household I'd obviously been versed in religious artwork. I couldn't help but make some historical connotations as well: classical artists in the Medieval and Renaissance periods being frequently commissioned by the Church. Aside from the potential rewards present in working through such a project, completing this painting was rife with difficulties and I ended up spending more time working through them than originally planned. As de Foucauld lived into the modern era and old photographs of him do indeed exist, I couldn't very well stray from some references, but such as they were I was limited. I worked through what I could, however, and was pleased with the results:
I have worked out a deal wherein Fr. Jakob will have prints available of this piece. If interested you may purchase them through his organization in the near future.
End of July Wrap-up...
I am indeed aware that we are now into August, I just thought that I'd give a very short summary of summer happenings, thus far, as this blog is just barely past its conception. After a very busy Spring and several shows, I've spent most of this summer concentrating on work, both personal and commissioned. I did participate in an exhibition in the Visual Arts Gallery at Governor's State University, however. 'Brainstorm: A Whole New Mind', was a group exhibition inspired by Daniel Pink’s book "A Whole New Mind – Why Right Brainers will Rule the Future." The show was curated by Chicago artist Jeff Stevenson and juried by Susan Aurinko of FLATFILE galleries, and Tricia Van Eck, Associate Curator at the Museum of Contemporary Art, here in Chicago. I'm told that a total of 289 works were submitted from across 22 different states for this show. The jurors accepted my piece, entitled 'Entanglement: Shrodinger's Rabbit' (pictured below), along 59 other works. It was an eclectic and well-hung show and the Visual Arts Gallery at GSU is lovely; a reception was held on June 19 and I took home People's Choice. The entire show ran from May 24 through June 24.
Other than this sole exhibition I've focused on myself and the studio this summer. I've had a few commissions but have otherwise concentrated on developing my personal work. Several new pieces will be posted soon. (One of the commissions I completed earlier in the summer I will be posting above, along with some details describing the work.) Besides time in the studio I've been hard at work with a new band, my first musical project in nearly four years. Population consists of myself on vocals, Benny Hernandez on bass, Gabriel Perez on guitar, Jessica Skolnik on synth, and Julien Cabrera on drums. We're a post-punk band with punk, goth, minimalist and coldwave influences; we've played several shows to date and have recently recorded a demo, available here.
Other than this sole exhibition I've focused on myself and the studio this summer. I've had a few commissions but have otherwise concentrated on developing my personal work. Several new pieces will be posted soon. (One of the commissions I completed earlier in the summer I will be posting above, along with some details describing the work.) Besides time in the studio I've been hard at work with a new band, my first musical project in nearly four years. Population consists of myself on vocals, Benny Hernandez on bass, Gabriel Perez on guitar, Jessica Skolnik on synth, and Julien Cabrera on drums. We're a post-punk band with punk, goth, minimalist and coldwave influences; we've played several shows to date and have recently recorded a demo, available here.
Hello, there.
So commences a blog: This is the beginning of what I hope will be a thorough and constant update upon myself and my work. Although most of my finished artwork and notifications on current exhibitions are consistently posted on my principal website, http://www.keelanmcmorrow.com/, this blog will serve as an online briefing regarding smaller news items, as well as any relevant ideas, agonies, and triumphs surrounding my life and my art. I should mention that I do foresee myself straying beyond the bounds of my central work, directly; I will also be posting any personal writings I might consider worth sharing, as well as any rants or reflections I deem relevant. Hopefully, then, this blog will serve to reconcile any pertinent news, essays, or ramblings with my artwork, without inundating subscribers to my mailing list or complicating my chief site. I hope you find some of it worth reading! Enjoy!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
