I am a self taught, emerging, Mixed Media Artist. I started producing art and exhibiting professionally in 2017. Taking a brief hiatus in 2019 to recover from a brain hemorrhage, which had a profound effect on my art practice and outlook on life in general.
My Art practice became both therapeutic and healing. My influences and reference points are vast and complex. Drawn from my London City upbringing, sexuality, my stroke, human interactions, music and fascinations My images, saturated in colour, a hang over from album sleeves, TV, video and movie special effects from the era I grew up in. Starting life from an early age in the performing arts; of Film and Television, I landed in a cradle of creativity.
But later worked in the music business, finance and the Probation service, so my art practice came late in life to me. If I had to name influences I would say photographers Man Ray, Cindy Sherman, Patty Carroll and Robert Doisneau. Artists that inspire me include Werner Buttner, Norman Rockwell, Francis Bacon and Jean – Michael Basiquiat.
But I also delight in the visceral brutishness of Artemisia Gentileschi and the surreal world inhabited by Leonora Carrington I am adventurous and experimental, both on canvas and behind the lens. I am labelled an automatic artist, unless commission to great a desired image, my work just unfolds unplanned and organic.
I create Pop Art and Abstract work; stylised illustrations and sketches, using oil sticks, brush markers, charcoal and acrylics. I am a pioneer of British Smartphone Photographic PhoneArtists. Under strict control parameters I am pushing the boundaries of Smartphones and free android apps to the limit. I never use preset effects or photoshop, preferring the creative freedoms that playing with light, colour and contrasts can bring. Whilst exploring the possibilities of the digital medium as a permanent extension to ourselves, through which the creative process is immediately accessible to everyone.
This work is produced entirely from photographic images, shot and edited on the tiny screen of my smartphone and only sees a PC to resize for printing or colour checking. Hence the resultant resultant body of my work in this field now sits under my banner – #tinyeyeproject.
(An artist’s statement can be a few sentences or a short paragraph long. Generally, an artist statement should only be between 100-200 words because shorter statements are better for the average attention span.)
All “Outsider” visual art forms and Artists are acceptable. – Outsider Art, Folk Art, Brut Art, Naïve Art, Self-Taught, Intuitive Art, Neuve Invention, Visionary, Raw, Underground Art, Lowbrow, and Art We Really Like, etc …
If your art does not meet our “Outsider” criteria then it will not be accepted into the magazine. If you are an artist who specializes in Fine Art, Contemporary Art, etc … Please head on over to Artist Portfolio Magazine (our sister magazine) and submit your art to that magazine.
A Big thank you to all of the Artists who submitted art to issue seven and congratulations to all who have been selected for this issue.
In a few days we will be announcing a new call for art for Issue Eight. … Stay Tuned!
Artists in Issue Seven
Dennis Corrigan – Front Cover Artist TA Riney – Back Cover Artist
As a classic introvert, the Pandemic allowed me to live a life I had only dreamt of. No appointments, no lunches, no parties. Even phone calls dried up.
This collection began in January 2021 as a form of pandemic diary. I was able to focus on the small moments that make up a day. My dog barking, a charming house, a knotty tree. As the world opens I am committed to keeping my eyes on “the small picture”.
Painting these moments force me, and I hope the viewer, to “realize life while we live it” (to quote Thorton Wilder).
The scenes are rendered not as they are, but as they appear in my mind with flattened shapes, distorted perspectives, romanticized palettes recognizable from Outsider and Pop Art.
The work is primarily oil painting with elements from past series to clarify my voice. This includes cardboard layers, polymer objects, thread and glitter to infuse the scenes with my humor, humanity and warped look at the world.
The Spring Map paintings are inspired by the quarantine of Covid-19. Using old Renaissance maps to speak to the spread of disease felt fitting as a starting point for finding our place in a new unknown world. The geography of these old maps is strange and wonky which resonates with the current world situation. Martin Waldseemüller’s Mappa Mundi of 1507 inspired me. His map was the first map to name America (after Vespucci’s voyage). It is comprised of twelve pieces, which seems a perfect metaphor for how the globe has been shattered, nations shutting borders and residents under lockdowns, all separated.
The thought of the Great Plague of 1351 seemed so ancient and never even a possibility of happening to us given our great medical and social strides in the last six hundred or so years. Yet, unbelievably here we are, literally living through a historic pandemic surrounded by huge uncertainty and losses of life and of connection. My paintings are paintings of life, of finding existential meaning in crisis. The geography is deliberately inaccurate as a means to portray disorientation and confusion. The colors are a nod to spring and regeneration, including flowers in states of decay and of blossom. These paintings are my thoughts and dreams of our place in the stars and our time.
Susan Lizotte lives in Los Angeles and balances her studio practice with her family and pets, including a pet peacock.
Issue Six is now available digitally for free or $25 for a printed version.
Artists in issue six
Robert Gorchov *Cover Artist
Thelma Van Rensburg
Recently, at a traveling carnival, I came across one of those old coin-operated fortune-telling machines. You put a quarter in the slot, a figure comes to life, waves its “hand” over a glass ball, and out pops a scroll of paper with your future written on it. I was struck by the device’s mannequin, wrapped in colorful, patterned, silks and the device’s antique carved wood cabinet, with brass detailing. I was also intrigued by the idea that this mechanical device with gears and cogs was somehow supposed to be able to tell me my future. How could a cold machine possibly know my life’s destiny? Of course, it can’t. Like the fortune cookie or the Magic 8 Ball, these things are meant solely for entertainment.
Yet, they still hold power over us. For some people, a Ouija board or a deck of tarot cards can be the couriers of life-changing information. These objects are believed to possess mystifying and arcane knowledge, even though, in reality, they are just novelty consumer products. The clerk at the magic store orders a gross of tarot cards whenever the stock is low and a new Ouija board can be purchased in the board game section of your local toy store, next to Chutes and Ladders.
The thing that makes these items magical can be found in their construct…not in just how they are made or their graphic design, but in their entire idea. Usually, the stories around these items are just as important as the items themselves; and the contexts in which they are used play a massive part in their power.
I began to wonder if there are other objects that somehow provide knowledge through purely mechanical means. Old analog calculators leaped to mind, the slide ruler, the abacus, and the mechanical adding machine with its crank handle. These devices also convey complicated ideas through the simple arrangement of moving parts. And their power is not questioned. All of ancient China was controlled using sliding beads on an abacus.
Like the fortune-telling machine at the fair, these tools of science were often also beautiful, delicately carved devices with inlaid brass and ivory. Although these machines were based on math, for some, they too possess mystifying and arcane knowledge. They have their own mysticism, their own sacred places of use, and their own histories and lore. In the hands of mystics at NASA, the slide ruler took us to the moon.
So here I present a new paradigm. What if science made devices that could calculate more than just numbers? What if engineers and mathematicians could come up with formulas and conversion wheels that could tell us who to love or the nature of the soul? What might it look like if all the mysteries of the world could be quantified, laid out in charts, then formatted into easy-to-use slide wheels? What if there was a company that had been creating just such devices for decades? This collection is a celebration of that idea