The Paintings of David Oleski The Studio Journal
Spring of the Year 2008
See the Gallery for some exciting detailed images of the artist's work.
Friday, June 20, 2008I starting mixing paint, again.
Spring is now over.
Read on...to Summer of 2008
Tuesday, June 3, 2008Eric Guli pointed out that a real cup of espresso should have a slight head of foam on it, so I pulled a fresh cup of espresso, just to capture the remnants of a slight head of foam.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Friday, May 16, 2008They stood in silence at the water's edge.
"Why do you think he lined them up?" the boy studied his father's face, barely able to make out details in the darkness.
His mind was somewhere else, far away. He was staring at the surface of the water, but seeing nothing. "I have no idea, son. The cherries are in a line, but the stems are all over the place. It's as though he has no idea what he's doing, but he's just doing it anyway."
The boy turned away, and looked at the huge dark forest behind them. "We should get back, Mom's going to wonder where we went."
He took a deep breath. "Yes, of that we can be sure."
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Thursday, May 15, 2008Where one cherry once sufficed, he decided that three cherries could provide a greater play of light and reflections and abstract rhythms and harmonies, juxtaposed with an intricate dance of patterns of color and lightness and brightness and depth.
See the finished study of three cherries on the very small paintings page.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008And suddenly the artist discovered the availability of cherries. From the view of a normal human, he appeared to see one as having more "cherry-ness" than the others, and carefully scrutinized his subject.
See the finished study of a single cherry on the very small paintings page.
Read about the cherry.
Sunday, May 11, 2008 Mother's DayWith temperatures never rising above the low 60s, the overcast sky gave way to ever increasing rainfall at approximately 3pm. The show was effectively cancelled at 4:15pm when the streets emptied out due to heavier and heavier rainfall. Despite increasing winds and heavy curtains of rain, David Oleski went on to deliver several more paintings to good homes in the greater metropolitan DC area later in the evening.
Friday, May 9, 2008He could hear the keys jingling outside a moment before the door swung open, and she burst inside.
"So...how long were you going to let it go without telling me?" She paused, and surveyed the room.
"It's not a big secret, he just painted plums again."
"What is it with him and plums now? Apples just aren't good enough?"
"I think it's all about the reflections, and he only wants some better challenges with, um, reflections."
"Well, what's he planning on doing after he learns all these exciting new things, write a book? Go on a lecture circuit?" She emphatically slammed the door.
He rolled his eyes, "Honey, I really have no idea."
She stopped and glared at him. "Did you just roll your eyes at me?"
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Wednesday, April 30, 2008As though dark red plums aren't hard enough, the artist decides to try a study of black plums. The warm light reflecting in the center of each one is the reflection of the artist himself in the afternoon light, so each plum is like a self portrait, as seen in the reflection of a plum. He believes this is a very strong painting, full of intense observation and interpretation. In the back of his mind he entertains the notion of just keeping this painting for his own collection.
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Sunday, April 27, 2008"So...did he eat?"
"Well, he definitely ate a half of an avocado."
"Is that all?"
"I have no idea, we should ask him."
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Friday, April 18, 2008He stepped through the ruins, his eyes burning from the smoke. Everywhere he could hear hissing as the last of the smoldering embers died.
"So what do you think caused this?" the fire marshall said, while squatting down to pick up a blackened panel.
"Well, it's hard to say," he resisted the urge to rub his eyes. "I heard he was working on a study of three plums, but nobody knows for sure."
The fire marshall flipped over the dark panel, "Ah yes, indeed." He stood up and stepped back. "Well, that's exactly what it is. It's a shame, because it really is a nice painting."
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008The professor's brow furrowed as he turned the page. He was pretending to scrutinize the paper in front of him, with sour down turned lips, but his mind was elsewhere. The nervous student in front of him stared at a spot on the front of the dark wood desk between them.
"So, you're telling me he's back to painting fruit again?" he asked, his voice rising in an accusatory pitch.
"It's a plum, sir", she stared even harder at the empty spot on the desk, "a single plum."
He peered over the top of his wire-rimmed bifocals, "And do you believe this means he may be painting fruit again?"
She didn't have an answer, and she just kept staring, and held her breath, and waited.
See the finished study of a single plum on the very small paintings page.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008And on April 13th, Jeffrey Cannon, another of one of the greatest artists I know, welcomed a brand new little girl into the world. Hello to Sylvia Anabel Cannon, and congratulations to Jeffrey and Paige.
Monday, April 14, 2008The silence hung in the air between them. His chair squeaked as he leaned forward to pick up his coffee cup. His eyes never left the newspaper that was between them.
"You know he painted another landscape?" she asked, holding her glass of orange juice in both hands.
They barely talked over the weekend, while the painting was being worked and reworked.
"I don't think he knows what he's doing." He took a sip of his coffee, "He's so far out of his element, he probably has no idea what he's even supposed to be doing."
She stared into the glass, "Other artists try different things sometimes, so why shouldn't he?"
He lowered the newspaper, and for the first time he looked at her face. "We'll have to just see where he goes with this. He's spending more and more time just staring at trees lately, and this is only the beginning."
She sighed, "Well, as long as he's having fun."
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Friday, April 11, 2008As of April 8th, of 2008, Michael Lang welcomes Nathan Otis Lang into the world. In his own words,
How the frail human heart manages to contain the rapturous power of this will forever be one of my life's true wonders. Simply unbloggable. Neither agitated nor real.Everything else pales in comparison, all the color in the world doesn't compare to what my friend Michael Lang is holding in his hands, and in his heart. Congratulations to Michael and Miss Dean.
Thursday, April 10, 2008He opened his eyes. The face that leaned over him slowly came into focus. "You fell down and hit your head", said the impassive Mr. B.
"Did I pass out?" He wasn't sure if he could still see smoke hanging in the air, or if it was just the glare of the sunlight streaming through the open curtains. He could feel his head pounding in time to his heartbeat.
"Well, you fell down. Good thing you're in a hospital." Mr. B sat down and started to write something on a legal pad.
He looked over to his right, and saw a nurse folding sheets on the next bed. "Where is he? Did he...um...you know..."
"Oh no, he just had to leave to paint a Perrier bottle," Mr. B looked up absently. "He has so much to do, he couldn't just lie around catching up on sleep."
"I can't keep up with this guy," he said, and started to sit up.
"Sir, I don't think you're ready..." but it was too late.
The dull ache in his head suddenly bloomed like a dark red flower. He slowly laid his head back down on the pillow. "I feel like my head is broken." Even with his eyes closed he could see sparks of light flashing in broken patterns.
"Well, like I said, you fell down."
See the finished study of a Perrier bottle on the very small paintings page.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008All hospitals smell the same to him, and they all have that same sense of tension and turmoil. He paused at the door, and let out a sigh of resignation. He slowly turned the knob. None of this made sense to him, and he pushed the door open. Suddenly his senses went into shock. He was enveloped by the choking smell of incense, and the droning buzz of noise over the sound of the heart monitors. He paused while his eyes adjusted to the darkened room, and he saw the motionless figure lying in the bed.
The voice snapped him out of his daze, "He's been this way for a long time now." The assistant, Mr. B, stood up and offered his hand.
"I don't understand what happened here, why is he in here?"
Mr. B sat back down, "Well, as you know, he went to Atlanta, and, well, he drove back from Atlanta, and right now he's very tired. The doctors feel he should just stay in here, and..."
"How long has he been like this?"
Mr. B straightened his glasses, "Well, he got up and painted a small study of a single bartlett pear this afternoon, and then.."
"What are you saying? What kind of a coma is this? How does he just wake up from a coma and do a small painting?" He could feel his brain starting to throb.
"Well, nobody ever said he was in a coma. It's just that he drove back from Atlanta, and.."
"Yes, I heard you, he's very tired. Can he hear what we're saying?" He peered down at the motionless figure in the bed, and the wires and tubes connecting the artist to the panel of blinking lights.
"Well, if he can hear us, he's not responding to anything yet. I think if we just try to wait and see..."
"What the hell?" and he pulled back the curtain dividing the room. Sitting cross-legged on the next bed was a shriveled old man, his silvery white hair cropped close to his head, his orange robe draped loosely over one shoulder. Suddenly the droning music and the smell of incense started crushing in on him, and he could feel the room starting to tilt. He grabbed the cold steel bed rail to steady himself.
Mr. B just looked on with mild amusement. "You do know he'd been exploring his spirituality lately, right?"
"I don't understand." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I think I'm going to pass out."
See the finished study of a single bartlett pear on the very small paintings page.
Monday, March 31, 2008He used to paint daisies, but then he wasn't able to find them, for years and years and years. As soon as he found a bouquet of Marguerite daisies, he wasted no time setting up an arrangement for a small study.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Monday, March 24, 2008They sat and stared at each other. She wanted to talk about all the vegetables she sees him painting, and how interesting it all is, while he only thinks about the shortcomings of the small studies. She thinks they're all perfect gems, but he sees them as a composite of errors and corrections. She wants to say how much she loves them, but she knows he will only say that they are cohesive as a body of work, but don't really stand up on their own. She looks for the simple balance, while he can't help but see the unresolved issues. There is so many words between them, but they sit together in silence.
See the finished studies of a bulb of garlic, a yellow onion, and a green pepper on the very small paintings page.
Friday, March 21, 2008The chair creaked as he leaned back. "I guess it's a landscape."
The old man turns to him, "Eh? Say something?"
"Just because he paints some trees in the yard doesn't make it a landscape, does it?" and he leaned back and finished his beer.
"When I was young, we worked for a living," the old man's voice rasped, "we didn't just paint the yard, there was work to do."
"I just don't see him doin' much with this thing. He doesn't even know much what he's doin' anyways," and he leaned forward, and pulled another can out of the cooler. "He should just tape a paper bull's eye to his chest now and get it over with. Nobody's gonna like this much anyway." He tossed the empty can over the railing where it landed next to a sleeping dog. The dog opened its eyes, and let out a sigh.
The old man just nodded, and stared off into the distance.
"Yup."
Click on the image to see a larger version.I immediately used the same colors to carve out a small study of a single yellow apple. See the finished painting on the very small paintings page.
Thursday, March 20, 2008 Vernal EquinoxThe beginning of spring is marked by a hammering wind. I could hear trees being broken apart by the endless roaring blast.
Today I started on a large landscape study, loosely based on the trees and lawn in front of my house. Nothing about painting a landscape feels like anything technical or specific. I'm stabbing wildly and blindly to find color in my limited view of the world. Everything is rippling with so much light, at best I'm just scraping the surface of understanding how to make sense of it all. I'm waving the knife around in the air, trying to see what I'm doing, and trying to figure out how to reference it against real life, and all I'm learning is..
SNAP
and the tv switches off. "I hate when he goes on and on about how hard it is," He sits up and looks out the window, "he acts like every new thing he tries is just too challenging."
She sat and stared at the dark screen. "I think he's so cool, trying new things now and then."
He looks back at her, and turns away. "Of course he knows that his first few studies of a new subject are going to be garbage."
"Don't say that! He doesn't paint garbage."
"Well, he never has a handle on a new subject for at least a week or two. You just watch, this is just a warm-up for him." He peers through the curtains at the yard. "These first ones will just be hog slop."
"Hog slop? I'm excited to see what he does. You don't have to be so negative," and she sits up and grabs a pillow.
He laughs, "I'm not negative, I'm just.." and he ducks as the pillow flies past his head.
If you find yourself hungering for yet more dramatization of the angst of a painter, see Winter of 2008 for the previous season's struggles.Previous issues:
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
Gallery - - Exhibition Schedule
