R a m b l i n g s . . .

"Make no mistake about it: in the greatest periods, art is not decoration, it is a language and nothing else. Even when it is expressed in very difficult terms. It is not at all sure that the duty of artists is to make this language accessible to everyone, whereas it is certainly their duty to sacrifice everything to the purity and truth of the signs by which they tell us what they have to say." -- Father Marie-Alain Couturier, O.P. Sacred Art, from the forward of Philip Guston: A New Alphabet.

I'm fascinated by what can grow from what seems like the most insignificant little forms.  Tiny purplish-green maple seeds lay on the ground in the thousands, yet any one of them can grow into a towering tree that will last decades.  Small oblong Dutch elm seeds, with a tiny inner seed surrounded by a vein-filled skin, flutter clumsily downward, searching for new life.  These seeds--all seeds--fascinate the hell out of me.  Who knows what insignificant words will cause someone to whither or grow?  What action will cause a life to grow?  By what thin margin are we culpable for our actions?  We are all seeds.  We all plant life, both good and bad, though it is never that simplistic.             30 May 2003

 S t a t e m e n t s . . .

Seeds, eggs, sacs, nests, birds, vessels and parts of the human body are the images that I have incorporated into my work over the past six years. This imagery, which I think of as human seeds, has multiple meanings for me. On one hand the images speak of containment, of a thought or feeling that is held within. But there is also a sense of impending growth that is vital to me. At its base level, this imagery deals with how I relate to others in this world. Whether an encounter is positive or negative, some trace of that encounter is left behind. That trace will lead to the sprouting of new thoughts and feelings. Skin may grow thicker or thinner. A mind may become more open or closed. Seeds sometime sprout beautiful things that we love. But they can also produce things that we don't want to see.

The imagery in my paintings is vital to me, but the process of making the work is equally vital. That process is a growth, from the first strokes on the canvas until the last, with all of the layers of mark making sandwiched in between. My paintings work best when I allow my intuitive side to outweigh my formal side. When that occurs, I become more responsive to the paintings in a holistic sense, without treating them as precious objects. The paintings become more gestural, more human. Formal considerations are important, but they must remain subservient to the gesture. That combination of the intuitive and formal-when they click together-is what gives my imagery life

Rob Stolzer

Rob Stolzer's paintings are derived from natural forms: seedpods, dried flowers, sprouted potatoes, garden and life fragments. It is a rich combination resulting in exceptional paintings that glow with color.

The layering of paint and imagery is important to Stolzer. He finds that surface interest is increased when a painting has a number of layers, resulting in a palimpsest quality, merging past and present. Indeed, in Blue Eggs, a nine-panel painting, the subtle suggestions of the figure in the background are nearly as important as the last, or top, composition. The influence of the natural world is very clear in this work, with suggestions of seedpods, twigs, and dead or dried flowers.

The crossing of the image from one panel to the next, across the edges of each panel, is Stolzer's main reason for making a multi-paneled work. He looks at the spatial relationships in each panel, as well as how the space of the nine panels works as a whole. Lines and shapes cross the panels, with the negative spaces between the panels becoming a part of the total composition.

The nine-panel painting, Sacred Seeds, gives the viewer insight into another of Stolzer's dictums. He seeks a sense of awkwardness, a mark of the hand, of the human being behind the work. That sensibility is very clear in Sacred Seeds. We can almost see the artist considering a line, whether it should be roughened. The process of making each painting, incorporating layering, with past and present evident, a focus on imperfection, both in subject matter and presentation, allows the viewer insight into the work.

Stolzer's paintings begin and end with drawing. He draws on the canvas initially, and as he works the shapes into final form, he continues to emphasize the line, erasing parts, redrawing parts of each line, adding new lines. For him, drawing is the most immediate from of expression, leading the viewer into the work, defining the work. This is clear in Seeds Within. The strong line on the left divides the canvas while the dark lines on the right reiterate the shape of the seed pod and work as a calligraphic counterpoint to the pale, flat shape. The light line and the orange line advance and recede, allowing the underlying shapes to shift and change. The interplay of flat shape and dancing line work together for a sort of visual music.

Stolzer seeks freshness in the paintings, and avoids overworking of the canvas surface. He refers to Philip Guston who said, "What I always try to do is eliminate, as much as possible, the time span between thinking and doing. The ideal is to think and to do at the same second, the same split second." Stolzer skillfully balances two polarities, that of layering paint and immediacy, allowing the paintings to sing.

Caren Heft
Director, Carlsten Gallery
University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point

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