All Creativelike: An Interview with Seamus Hames

Sometimes I feel like my life is an embarrassment of riches. There are just so many talented, unique and special people in it. Seamus Hames is one of those lovely folks. I am so thrilled to introduce you to him and his work today. How would you define creativity? Creativity is the ability to envision alternatives. Some people conform to the world they're born into and some just can't. Those that can't, see the world from a distance. It's a lonely place, so they assert themselves, and eventually new voices and cultures emerge. It's really a search for love, for the bridging of distances. Conformity was essential for early human survival, but there's always needed to be alternatives. Time moves on, people change, and things need to change lest all becomes stagnant.

Some will advise you based on what they've seen, on the world of the past and of experience, while others will lead by what they can imagine: the inner world.

After all, they've been on the sidelines asserting themselves, they are used to envisioning what the future could be. That is the root of creativity. Where those inner visions come from is as mysterious as life itself. Why the search for love? It's almost as if we've been blessed with the ability to manifest something to receive and reflect our own love. Perhaps that's all we are, created by the universe to receive its love. I see that as proof there is love for all things, simply because we can imagine it.

When are you at your creative peak (be it time of day, season of year, etc.)? I like mornings best, they are the most celebratory, but most often I work in the evenings. Big ideas, seed ideas, come at night, often in dreams or just on the threshold. Summer is inspirational in terms of being outgoing and collecting material, drawing outdoors and exploring, but winter is the time of year I seem to make the most and get the most done, being stuck indoors. That's when I write a lot, imagining worlds from my warm home.

You're working on two series - one of Irish mythology drawings and one of little abstract paintings. Can you talk about each of them and what's compelling you? I love mythology from all over the world, and am currently obsessed with Celtic mythology and Irish history in general, and as I've been reading about it I've decided to illustrate my favorite moments, almost as a nightly drawing exercise. The little abstract paintings are also exercises in translating my pen work into paint, specifically practicing my line work and washes. So both are actually work I can do where I don't have to think much once I'm doing it, just have fun and cut loose, since they aren't necessarily smaller parts of a greater picture, as some of my writing projects are.

Tell me about the little 'zines that you make and send out. I've always thought that was such a generous act. Do you see it that way, as an act of service? I've always loved comics and cartoons, and mail art, and the idea of mini-comics as something small, for a few dollars and sent through the quaintness of the old-time postal service, is very appealing to me as a medium. When money is removed from the equation there's nothing left but the love, and things like that are certainly public services. With my mini-comics I get to write in an episodic fashion, to draw quickly, pontificate about things I care about, and send it regularly as gifts to others, which is all a lot of fun. The comic I'm working on now is called The Mystery, and it's about the landscape of southern RI where I grew up, combining nature poems, stories about high school, and local ghost stories and lore. It's supposed to be the celebration of the soul of a place, the way a landscape informs you, but also a coming-of-age story within that landscape. I'll be very sad when it's over, I have it planned for twenty-one issues, which will run about five years, but I'm also excited to start a new fantasy comic I've been planning.

You're the director of an art center for developmentally disabled adults. How does their work inform yours? I'm inspired daily by the work the artists do at Top Drawer Art At The Brass. I always think of the Keats quote "Poetry should come as natural as leaves to a tree or not at all", and I see beautiful leaves every day, in every color and hue at Top Drawer, when they are helped to express themselves clearly. It is the work I'm most proud of, helping them realize their potential. Their talent is limitless as long as they have the support, and that is an important job. Their work and their insights are like refreshing draughts of morning air in a world that can be stifling and bleak. That is the best kind of public service, providing cool air and leaves, what more could you possibly ask for?

Any daily habits or practices? My daily habits are coffee drinking, drawing, writing, pontificating, pacing, smoking, and kissing my son's sweet marshmallow head. I like to play the banjo also, old-time clawhammer style.

Who are your favorite artists? I love the classics like Dubuffet and Klee, Van Gogh, ancient painters like Sesshu. I also love writers, poets like Han Shan and Kerouac, Walt Whitman, and I recently discovered the classic fantasist Lord Dunsany and am collecting as much of his work as I can, which I also once did with Richard Brautigan. I love Outsider artists like James Castle, Hiroyuki Doi, Minnie Evans. I love writer/artists like Dr. Seuss and Maurice Sendak, British cartoonist James Jarvis, and artist/writers in comic form: classics like Ron Rege Jr. and John Porcellino, and newer artists like CF and Leon Sadler.

Any advice for aspiring artists? Be yourself, become yourself. Listen to the things that call for you and go to them, celebrate them and invite them with you. Stay happy through your work and seek to please those who you love through it. Be proud of yourself and never question the practicality of your actions. Represent the ineffable. Never give up.

Seamus O. Hames was born in Warwick, RI, in 1979, and raised in the seaside town of Narragansett. He received a Bachelor's of Fine Arts at the School Of The Art Institute of Chicago in 2002 with a focus on Film Animation and Outsider Art, and he currently self-publishes mini-comics as well as creates artwork for gallery exhibitions. He lives in a studio/cottage in Wakefield, RI, with his wife Arleen Aguilera and son Ronan Michael, and for nine years has worked as the artistic director of Top Drawer Art At The Brass, a studio and gallery for artists with developmental disabilities in Warren. Check out his website here.

Tracking Georgia O'Keeffe's Ghost

I've wanted to live in New Mexico since 1997, when I stopped through Taos for a bit on a three-month cross-country trip. I turned 40 last year, and it really hit me just how quickly life moves along. I committed myself then to getting back to this rugged, dry, majestic place. A month ago - aftermuchplanning and manifesting - my boyfriend and I trekked from New England to New Mexico for a desert winter. I don't know why this place has beckoned me for so long; I just know we should never ignore a persistent call of the soul.

Last week we drove to Ghost Ranch outside Abiquiu for a hike and to contemplate the late, great Georgia O'Keeffe, who called this place home for many years. It's been said her life changed when she moved to New Mexico from New York. Surely, her relationship to the land seemed more intimate than her relationships with other humans. Of the Pedernal mesa (a famed subject of her work) she remarked, “It’s my private mountain. God told me if I painted it often enough I could have it." It's a nice thought, isn't it, that if we create enough work about a place we love that we'll be able to claim it as our own?

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"The cliffs over there are almost painted for you—you think—until you try to paint them."

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"Color is one of the great things in the world that makes life worth living to me and as I have come to think of painting it is my efforts to create an equivalent with paint color for the world, life as I see it."

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"I said to myself 'I have things in my head that are not like what anyone has taught me - shadows and ideas so near to me - so natural to my way of being and thinking that it hasn't occurred to me to put them down.' I decided to start anew, to strip away what I had been taught."

Artists who wish to channel the Mother of Modernism can visit Ghost Ranch to hike or stay overnight. The organization there offers workshops and retreats, as well as horseback rides to places where O'Keeffe painted. More about them here.

How to Make Sure Your Art Looks Good On the Wall

When I owned a gallery one of the most challenging aspects was physically hanging all the two-dimensional artwork. At any given moment there were upwards of twenty artists represented, and each one of them seemed to employ a different hanging mechanism on the back of their work. Many times these mechanisms weren't appropriate for the pieces, and that made my job quite a bit harder. Trust me when I say that having a gallery is not easy. There are very steep overhead costs, lots of humans who come through the door with only a tiny percentage who buy, big administrative tasks from inventorying to maintaining dozens of bios/resumes, managing and training sales staff, copious amounts of marketing and advertising, the physical labor of hanging shows, and much more.

I mention all that because when an artist makes a gallery owner's job harder, it doesn't usually bode well for the artist.

During the many years I worked in galleries I heard the owners say over and over, "I'd much rather work with an artist whose work is just good, but who has all their paperwork together, gets me stuff on time, and let's me do my job, than an incredible artist who's disorganized and a pain in the ass."

Whether you're repped by a gallery or not, someone is going to end up handling your artwork. Out of respect for them you want to make sure they can present the work easily and safely in a way that allows the work to shine.

So let's talk for a moment about the mundane - but necessary! - topic of hardware. 

Eyelets and Wire The traditional method of hanging a two-dimensional framed work is two eyelet screws secured into the frame or stretchers on back about one-quarter of the way down from the top (as flush to the frame as possible) with picture hanging wire strung between. If you work on stretched canvas this is the way to go. (You can also use D-rings instead of eyelet screws.)

If your work is heavy, you want the wire to go through and around the eyelet twice so that the weight of the work won't cause it to slip. Wrap a significant extra length of wire tightly around itself to secure.

Also, don't make the wire so long that the work pitches off the wall too far, or shows above the frame top. You want just a little give to it, but not too much. Ideally the peak point of the wire, when taught, will be a few inches from the top of the frame for small to medium works, and a bit more for larger works. (More here if you need help.)

Sawtooth Hangers Sawtooth hangers are great for smaller works, especially if the works are done on box frames. When using a sawtooth hanger make sure it's centered, and make sure the jagged side is down. (Yes, I've gotten work sent to me with upside down sawtooth hangers.)

If the edge of your box frame is not wide enough the person hanging the work will probably have to use two level nails (one nail and the work will fall off the wall if bumped or a breeze blows by). I've seen some artists tape string or wire across the back of small pieces. It certainly makes the work easier to hang, but the beauty of a box frame is how it sits flush to the wall.

Keyhole Hangers Admittedly, this isn't my favorite hanging method. It's a pain in the butt to line up the nail with the hole, for one, and secondly the work can totter on the rounded edge of the hole. Some pieces have two holes and, well, that's even more of a pain trying to level two nails and line them up. That said, if you have no other option you can use this. I'd try for something else first though.

D-rings These work for medium and large works. Drill or screw the d-rings into back sides of your stretcher or frame so that the rounded part is pointing upwards, of course.

These can be a pain to hang as it requires measuring tape, a level and a good amount of finagling, but if your work is very heavy it's a great option. If it's not too heavy, consider stringing wire between the D-rings (as you would eyelet screws) for easier hanging. In that scenario the D-ring top is facing inward instead of upward.

French Cleat The French Cleat is great for works done on, say, aluminum or wood - works that are, essentially, frameless. The idea is that the backside of your artwork has one beveled piece of wood secured to it. A companion piece of wood with the opposite bevel is then secured to the wall, so the beveled piece on back of the art fits right over it. This is not hard to hang, but can put significant holes in the walls, so make sure this is most appropriate method to your work before using.

L Pins For lighter frameless works - piece done on light wood or on glass  that cannot be strung on the back - L pins may be the best way to hang.

In this scenario the long end of the nail is (gently) hammered into the wall, while the short end secures the work.

If you aren't hanging your own work, include four L Pins and instructions when you sell the work, or when sending to a gallery, so the buyer/gallery owner can hang it successfully.

Bumpers Obviously bumpers aren't a hanging mechanism, but I figured I'd mention them since they can be important to the presentation of your art. If a piece is pitching forward off the wall at the top, add bumpers to the bottom corners. This will move the bottom of the work away from the wall enough so that the work looks more flush to the wall. Of course, if the work is pitching forward off the wall significantly, you may be using the wrong hanging mechanism. Try tightening the wire in back or using a different method.

No hardware? A lot of folks making small affordable works use ready made frames or cheap, easy-to-assemble metal frames. There's nothing wrong with that - except when it makes the artwork a pain to hang.

If that's the case with your presentation, do your best to cleanly jerry-rig the frames for easy hanging, or include suggestions for the buyer. And, by "suggestions" I don't mean something like, "Bang nail into wall. Wedge head of the nail between the frame edge and painting edge." That's not cool.

Some Etiquette * If you make odd shaped work, like draped linen or free floating paper cuts, for example, include hanging materials with your shipment or, at the very least, include recommendations and instructions.

* If a gallery or buyer requests different hanging method on future works than the one you're currently using and you have a good relationship with the them (meaning, they sell/buy your work) do what they say. Unless, of course, there's a very specific and thoughtful reason you wish not to. In that case, have a convo with the owner/buyer and explain why your method is best.

*In general, try to keep the back of your work as clean as possible. Avoid crazy or dangerous wire ends sticking out, a million pieces of tape, protruding eyelet screws and the like. Bring some care and attention to the process. If you can paper or felt the back - great. Whatever you can do to make it NOT look like a child or madwoman put this together is ideal.

Getting it ON the wall Finally, for those who want to know how to actually get the work on the wall and what to use, this article is fantastic and covers all the nitty gritty of hanging and securing your work.

All Creativelike: An Interview with Painter Whitney Knapp

It's an amazing thing to watch someone blossom as an artist. Many, many moons ago I worked in a gallery with Whitney Knapp. She was just starting out as a painter then, and over the years I've watched her go through years of art schooling to hone her craft and become an art educator herself. Her work continues to astound me, and I find her deep dedication to it hugely inspiring. Read on for her wise, insightful words about artmaking, education and creativity.

How do you define creativity? Creativity, to me, is using the imagination to generate unique, fresh, and inventive ideas.Within a visual language, I think this translates to innovation in approach and technique.

There’s an important distinction for me between creating versus making. I consider making to be the production of something from something, whereas I define creating as the construction of something from nothing. This difference places me in the position of a maker, an idea that is really at the heart of my own artmaking.

What is it you love about the medium of paint? Color is what I most love about paint. I have a greater affinity for oils than for other materials and for more specific reasons. I’m interested in the physicality of oil paint… the way it can be layered, mixed, diluted, blended; and the flexibility that this ultimately provides.

When I was in art school I was challenged to consider why I was using oils, and how they could be best employed to convey my subject.  I began thinking about building up the texture to suggest grass, allowing my paint to run when describing water, scraping, dragging, pushing, pulling, etc. I find the infinite possibilities of approach so appealing.

A lot of your canvases are significant in size. What is it about a larger canvas that draws you to it? My larger work requires significant time to complete and I am attached to the ambition of these paintings. There is a power generated in bigger pieces that is absent in my smaller paintings. I enjoy the sense of being in my work during its construction, and recognize that the energy in my large pieces reflect this immersion. My larger work allows me to inhabit the paintings and I feel more invested in them.

This is due in part to of the amount of time spent painting, but also to my involvement in their entire execution. For these pieces, I cut and tack raw canvas to my studio wall, gesso the canvas, and later stretch the final piece. This hands-on approach continues to be a more intimate experience than working on pre-prepared small canvases.

How does nature play a role in your work? Nature plays a tremendous role in my painting because my work is really about my own faith, as reflected through the natural world. I consider the emulation of our natural world to be an act of reverence to the Creator. This undertaking reminds me of my subordinate position of maker. My work is also about place, and I paint in order to acknowledge places that have been significant in my life.

Finally, through painting I am able to encounter a heightened understanding of my own environment. This might be one of the most exciting things about making art.

You have an MFA and also teach art. In what ways has education (and being an educator) informed your work? Working toward my MFA was instrumental in shaping me into the artist I am today. Art school challenged my aesthetic and forced me to address difficult questions about my own work. It also provided me with the opportunity to discuss my convictions and explore new ideas. The critiques were often painfully honest, but provided valuable feedback.

Perhaps most importantly, I was exposed to a community of artists I deeply admire.

Being an educator has impacted my work equally. By providing students with an introduction to various techniques and media, I am inevitably inspired to employ them myself. Also, I learn by observing my students. Oftentimes their approach varies significantly from my own in ways I couldn’t have imagined. Teaching also provides my schedule with a sense of structure that can often be missing for self-employed artists. Finally, I’ve found that facilitating critiques and providing feedback has fine-tuned my ability to problem solve in my own studio.

Recently your work had a shift to a more impressionistic style. What accounts for that shift? I believe that artists should never become too complacent with their own work, because this will ultimately lead to the production of stagnant and stale paintings. If one’s process has become too easy or too mechanical, then I think it means one has been in the same place for too long.

I recently began painting with a knife in order to experiment. Working with a knife has contributed to the thick paint application and more vivid color relationships that make my new work feel more impressionistic in style. I find that my colors don’t become muddied working in this capacity, and I like the thicker, layered textures that a knife can generate.

I’m also interested in edges developed with a knife, and enjoy negotiating transitions in this sense. I’ve had to surrender a sense of control working without my brushes, but find it to be liberating. I feel as though I’ve just begun to scratch the surface with this approach, and have a lot more territory to explore.

Any daily habits or rituals? Unfortunately, I’m much too disorganized to have any daily habits, but there are things I’ve found to be helpful in the production of my work. I make a point of looking at other artists’ work: in books, galleries, museums, and online. This serves both to inform my work, and to provide me with inspiration.

I also take photos constantly. I’m primarily a studio painter so I find images to be helpful as reference. Life is busy and oftentimes I can’t begin painting the moment I feel inspired. I take photos to document my inspiration, which enables me to revisit it later.

Favorite artists or influences? I’m influenced by a stylistically varied group of both historical and contemporary artists. This is by no means an exhaustive list, but the following are some of my favorite painters: Alex Kanevsky, Gerhard Richter, Zaria Forman, Bo Bartlett, Ran Ortner, Richard Diebenkorn, Stuart Shils, Antonio Lopez Garcia, Rackstraw Downes, Frederick Edwin Church, J. M. W. Turner, John Constable, Jacob Van Ruisdael, and George Inness.

Advice to young painters? It’s crucial that painters of all ages take their work seriously and make it a priority. A staggering percentage of art students abandon their direction after graduation. I vividly remember making a commitment to myself while I was in graduate school that I would never step away from my work. It’s imperative that you believe you can accomplish the goals you’ve laid out for yourself. It’s important to cling to your convictions.

Artists must build time into their schedule for artmaking, as painting is a craft improved only by doing. Be willing to experiment, to try different techniques, and be open to failure. I’ve learned just as much from what doesn’t work, as I have from my successes. Place yourself in a community of artists, look at as much art as you possibly can, apply to shows and subscribe to mailings.

Finally, know that vulnerability is necessary in order to achieve growth.

Whitney Knapp was born in Connecticut, lived in Surrey, England for nearly a decade, and currently resides in Virginia. She earned her BFA from Denison University, and her Post Baccalaureate Certificate and her Master of Fine Arts Degree from Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts. She is represented by galleries in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Rhode Island, and she teaches drawing and painting courses at several community colleges in Maryland and Virginia. You can see more of her work on her website here.