Author: echarlesrolwing3

Chicago artist April 4, 2016 E. Charles Rolwing Statement Don't bend; don't water it down; don't try to make it logical; don't edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly. Franz Kafka The making of art is for me a journey of construction and destruction. Each brush stroke comes out of my very soul, a place deep in my subconscious. I paint with my heart on my sleeve. The most I can offer that is unique is honesty to my emotions, to lay out that which makes me human. My imagery comes from working in my sketchbooks. That is where I work out the intellectual aspects, symbols and the problems of composition and color theory. There is a place between the intellectual (classic problems of composition and content), and the ethereal (subconscious) where true meaning emerges. It is here that new ideas emerge. I work an idea in dozens of studies before I begin a he painting. Then, when I begin the painting I have a library of ideas and a basic idea of where to start. From that point the painting becomes an idea in itself. It is a reaction to a self contained idea of itself. Each movement follows another, each a reaction to the previous stroke. It is here that the image begins to emerge. I am careful to allow the subconscious to breathe freely, to be open and honest to what is happening, to be in the moment. It happens sometimes to destroy the painting in the process. I wipe out, scrape, repaint, and over paint the image. No painting in my studio is safe. The finished painting is that idea in itself, something to be experienced as a self-contained entity. The viewing of a painting physically changes the chemistry of the brain, and it lives with the viewer in memory. It is the private language of the artist and the viewer. We share that time together.

Uptown a.m. (Poem)

April 3, 2017

It’s a lotTo force an obstinate brace Against good morning, the smile  That burns right through you  With the knowledge that  At the first stones throw This street would  Bleed itself dry. To imagine the heft of a stone Thrown high into the clear blue. The sudden numbness of elbow, Confident of its fall. This … More Uptown a.m. (Poem)

The Oiler (poem)

April 2, 2017

     We are digging holes, we are burying dogs. Under this clear sky we may do anything that comes. The Oiler also sharpens blades. There is nothing better than a good blade. We look out on the highway and feel the draw. Workers are pouring new concrete to shore up the levee, it’s hard … More The Oiler (poem)

It’s All Schtick

March 30, 2017

     It’s all schtick. All the body numbing mental gymnastics are but a prelude. The show hasn’t started yet. The orchestra is warming up, while we create bucket lists. Anything can happen under this clear sky. Aesthetic concerns are principal, jargon of all the dead gods. And we decipher our god-like profiles with an … More It’s All Schtick

Painting (a riff)

March 17, 2017

     The making of art is a living story told through broken teeth, like the gears of a clock or some terrible machine, sucking holes in the fabric, telling little lies that add up. From Guston’s pink rooms to Armageddon, black as a respite, there is order in no space. Klansmen in little cars. … More Painting (a riff)

Statement 

March 15, 2017

     There is a place between the intellectual and emotional aspects in the making of a piece of art. It is here that the search for truth may be exposed and explored. Composition, line, color, and technique are manipulated in a intellectual way with reference to the rules of, or against art history. The … More Statement 

A Short Bio 

February 21, 2017

     I moved to Chicago in 1986, fresh out of grad school at Ohio University, armed with MFAs in photography and printmaking. The week I moved here I had a show opening at DeGraaf Gallery in the bustling River North art district, where I showed monoprints I made in Athens. It was a three … More A Short Bio