The Paintings of David Oleski  The Studio Journal
The Current Edition:  Summer of the Year 2008
 
Ah yes, a brand new issue of the official newspaper of the DavidOleski.com website, the Studio Journal of David Oleski. Smell the freshly dried smear-proof ink, feel the crisply folded sections. Here you can find the dramatization of the day to day grind, color in the otherwise colorless doldrums of existence, music heard through the monotonous droning of routines broken only by the marking of each plodding hour of tedium.
See the Gallery for some exciting detailed images of the artist's work.
Friday, August 1, 2008

I finished the largest painting I've ever done, measuring at five feet by seven feet. Suddenly making it look easy has never been so hard.

60 inches by 84 inches
Click on the image to see a larger version.


Sunday, July 27, 2008

Suddenly everything explodes with color. It's hard to look at this, it's hard to even think about it.

40 inches by 60 inches
Click on the image to see a larger version.


Thursday, July 17, 2008

In an effort to push the envelope even further, I carved out another study of granny smith apples, using the same bold background. I decided to turn up the heat a bit on the shadows, and found some brighter tones to make things really vibrate. 

40 inches by 60 inches
Click on the image to see a larger version.


Monday, July 14, 2008

Yesterday I celebrated my birthday, and now I'm two hundred and forty seven years old. 

Despite endless food and merriment throughout the weekend, I managed to start on a new study of granny smith apples. Last winter I was playing around with some color replacement functions in Photoshop, and I found some interesting effects by combining some very synthetic and artificial background colors with some traditionally rendered foreground subjects. Just to toss things up a bit, I decided to pair a trio of rendered green apples with a brisk and bold robin's egg blue field. It was a fairly solid and standard study until I started laying down the bold and brash new color for the surrounding field. It's exciting and attractive in one way while at the same time being strangely repulsive. 

Happy birthday to me.

40 inches by 60 inches
Click on the image to see a larger version.


Monday, July 7, 2008

After a trip to Tampa to visit my father and a trip to East Hampton for an exhibit, I'm finally home again.


Friday, June 28, 2008

Three granny smith apples, against a blazing teal background.

24 inches by 36 inches
Click on the image to see a larger version.


Friday, June 27, 2008

Two granny smith apples.

40 inches by 40 inches
Click on the image to see a larger version.


Monday, June 23, 2008 

Eleven granny smith apples.

40 inches by 60 inches
Click on the image to see a larger version.


Saturday, June 21, 2008 Summer Solstice

I had the strangest dream, that my house was a vast ranch in the middle of a city. I was giving someone a tour, showing how my narrow property extended back endlessly into the distance, explaining how I currently have about a dozen horses, but no longer do I have cattle. The time was late afternoon, the sky was bright, but the light was starting to turn golden. For some reason I had two separate extra pens, as I explained "in case I get some other animals as well". Up a short hill from the barn was the main house, and I looked out the window and saw none other than Richard Harrington walking up the hill, his face beaming with his usual good nature. Odd, that he would be visiting. For some reason my mother was there too, so I had a chance to introduce the two of them, and Richard walked down to the barn to set about making some coffee. I told him I'm not so sure about the water in the pail he was using, but he said it's all under control, no problem. I was really not so sure about the water in that pail, but I know it's no good to try to steer Richard from the path he's found. I continued giving someone a tour, walking out to the street in front of my house, noticing how everything seemed to be skewed at odd angles. We walked down a strikingly steep hill to the corner, and I pointed out how my house is actually several properties away from the complex of barns, and only a few doors up from the bottom of the hill. The bottom of the hill was like something from a nightmare, the house on the corner was at least fifty feet up from the sidewalk, the roots of the trees were exposed the whole way down to the crooked sidewalk, only the property itself was at such a bizarre height above the street. The idea of trying to walk out the front door down to the sidewalk made me dizzy with vertigo. At a certain point I realized I was giving my tour to my friend Mike from Texas, who rarely seems to be impressed by anything. We continued around the block, past dark gothic buildings, under a foreboding highway underpass, and then our path was lit by storefront windows sparkling with modern graphics and lighting. On the next block we came out from under the underpass, and I was in the middle of the city at night, and the cool wind was blowing through the streets. This was all within 2 blocks of my house, and the barns, and the horses, and Richard Harrington making coffee. 

In some way I didn't feel any more of a sense of order or simplicity waking up to my house on the hill, surrounded by a dense and dark forest, high above a deep dark lake, with so many landscaping projects spread across several acres of land, all careening crazily down this maddeningly twisted road in life I have found.

Spring is now over and Summer has begun, and today I started throwing paint down on a tentative commission of eleven granny smith apples.


If you find yourself hungering for yet more dramatization of the angst of a painter, see Spring of 2008 for the previous season's struggles.

Previous issues:
Spring 2008| Winter 2007/08
Fall 2007 | Summer 2007 | Spring 2007 | Winter 2006/07
Fall 2006 | Summer 2006 | Spring 2006 | Winter 2005/06
Fall 2005 | Summer 2005 | Spring 2005 | Winter 2004/05
Fall 2004 | Summer 2004 | Spring 2004 | Winter 2003/04
Fall 2003 | Summer 2003 | Spring 2003 | Winter 2002/03
Fall 2002 | Summer 2002 | Spring 2002 | Winter 2001/02
Fall 2001 | Summer 2001 | Spring 2001 | Winter 2000/01
Fall 2000 | Summer 2000 | Spring 2000 | Winter 1999/2000
Fall 1999 | Summer 1999 | Spring 1999 | Winter 1998/99
 

Frank keeps seeing a cat out of the corner of his eye

Gallery - - Exhibition Schedule

email the artist with questions or comments