Susan -- September 6, 1998

September 6, 1998

When I was in college in the early 70's, I took an elective course in oil painting. After spending what was a veritable fortune on materials, I was nonetheless frustrated in my attempt to free myself from the constraints of perfectionism that plagued me.

The class was filled with art majors, already well on their way to becoming the Miros, Picassos and Monets of a new generation.

One of the assignments was to paint a still-life of a paper bag, realisitic, impressionistic, abstract or otherwise.

The professor, seeing my inability to come to terms with my canvas, said: "Let yourself GO, it doesn't have to be so perfect!"

West Side Highway, New York City
SX 70 photograph ©1996 Susan B. Markisz

After a few more brush strokes, the professor returned to look at my progress. Seeing little change in my painting, exasperated, he took the brush from my hand and said: "NOT like this...like THIS" and waved the brush over my canvas with a flourish.

I realized what I was missing was basic drawing 101 and withdrew from the course, cutting my losses at 100 bucks in materials and a "W" for the course. Some 15 years later, I discovered that the world was my canvas and that cameras were my tools of the trade.

Photography enabled me to bring my own vision and interpretation to the canvas, at first fairly effortlessly, at least compared to what it had been like trying to eek out an image from a glob of burnt siena to replicate a paperbag still-life.

Photography is a lot like painting. Both require the learning of basic skills. One's vision begins to emerge after the doing of it, time and again. In hindsight, what I initially perceived as effortless, has been a process, not without growing pains. As in all things, we bring our life experiences to everything we do; hence photography becomes subjective, even as we endeavor to be impartial observers when recording events before the camera.

Battery Park City, New York SX70 photograph © Susan B. Markisz

Sometimes I yearn to go back to the canvas... to experience a different type of creativity that eluded me until 6 or 7 years ago when I began experimenting with Polaroid materials and watercolor paper that took me back to my childhood, the childhood of coloring books and watercolor paints. I found that with some of these materials I could still "stay within the lines" and break out of some self imposed barrier to the artist-within.

"Brownstone, 86 Street & East End Avenue, NYC" © Susan B. Markisz

People continually ask me how it's done. It's no secret. Polaroid publishes various "how-to" guides as well as TEST Magazine on the various alternative imaging techniques, which you can get simply by calling 1-800-343-5000. Or you can check out their website at www.polaroid.com.

In addition to being both playful and soulfully restorative, it has the potential for both editorial illustration and commercial use.

In October, I'll be having a small exhibition of some of this work as well as work done while on assignment, at a restaurant in midtown Manhattan called Druid's. There will be a reception during the first week in October, probably on Tuesday or Wednesday, from 6-8. The date is still uncertain at this point but if anyone is interested in talking shop and having a glass of wine, please stop by. Feel free to E-mail me for the details.

Susan B. Markisz
September 6, 1998
Smarkisz@aol.com

Polaroid makes a variety of materials that lend themselves to fine art work. I've been doing Polaroid image transfers, for years, using old slides and enlarging them onto 669 or Polacolor film, and then transferring them to watercolor paper. I then hand color the resulting images with watercolors and pastels. More recently, I've been using an SX-70 Polaroid camera (not made anymore but available in camera and thrift shops for anywhere between $25-$125). The SX-70 camera takes readily available Time Zero film. Compose and shoot is about all you do... Once the image begins to develop, the use of a burnisher or the back of a pen to manipulate the emulsion, creates a painterly image. In order to make reproductions, I confess I've gone electronic: I've scanned the images and made Iris prints on handmade watercolor paper. ...It's not the paper and paintbrush I'd always envisioned; they're not Monet's, but they've been commercially successful and they've been reproduced and exhibited throughout the country...It sure beats an oil painting of a paperbag still life anyday!

Susan B. Markisz

September 6, 1998