lisa ventura Archives - Lisa Ventura Art

November 13, 2013December 5, 2016

Sand Castles

This painting I did of a little girl building sand castles at Velzyland, on the north shore of Oahu, is a crowd favorite. I was inspired to do the piece because of her expression; she is on a mission, and in the words of someone who commented on this piece at a recent showing, “she has a look of happiness without smiling”. I thought that was lovely. Happiness without smiling. I suppose it’s this not-so-obvious emotion that is apparent as she carries out her little construction project.

The same viewer asked what she held in her hand. I explained it was the small shovel she was using, and he saw a paintbrush. The colors and background choices I had made were stylistic, but he thought that she was painting the place she wanted to be. Another lovely idea. That she was creating the place of her escape.

This got me thinking about the way people interpret art. The way it makes us feel. I had thought that art connected us in the common feelings that a piece evokes in us. But in this case, what connected me and this very thoughtful art viewer was that the piece made us both feel at all. The more we tried to explain it to each other the less it meant. It’s interesting how two people can look at something and see completely different things.

Take a better look at this painting.

In upcoming posts I will try to include the backstory on some of my work. It will be interesting to hear your take on it.

June 7, 2013December 19, 2016

Nice to meet you

The artist introduces herself with her artwork

It seems that with the accessibility of amazing technology, we’ve come to expect the exchange of information to be immediate and easy. Social networks afford us all kinds of content and visual stimuli without even a ‘click’. We can one-handedly, one-fingeredly, scroll passed all kinds of stuff if it doesn’t catch our attention.

The artist of today has to figure out how to appeal to the viewer – to convince them, that the work merits more than a passing glance.

I’m finding that for me, instead of finding a new way to appeal to an audience, sticking with my original appeals are what work. I want to share my feelings about the subject matter in my pieces with others, so that they can form their own feelings about it.

Hi. I’m Hawaii artist Lisa Ventura. Nice to meet you.

I would compare it to getting introduced to someone by a mutual friend, and my art is that mutual friend. An interaction that otherwise might not happen has been initiated by this shared friend, because we know we have something in common, based on what we know about and feel toward that friend. (And since my art is that friend, I’m hoping we both agree that this is a good-looking, awesome friend.)

I really liked these statements made by artists on instagram. The sentiments are similar to my own:

“Photos aren’t memories, memories are memories. Photos are the exhibitions; the safe place to stop them from being forgotten. Photos are each memory’s home” – Darius Kwong (@dk_shots)

“…to freeze moments and share visual information-energy, feelings and beauty-with others who are in search of it.” – Nasya Kopteva

Sort of lovely sentiments, no?

June 5, 2013December 5, 2016

Pineapples!

Feeling quite pleased with the paintings of close-ups on the skin of pineapples. They remind me of salt and li hing mui powder and the smell of overripe pineapples near rotting high in the air. I miss that smell.

As the fruits grew back after each picking, they got successively smaller, and the companies would stop harvesting because these smaller fruits were supposedly less marketable. (I don’t know, now I wait for those little baby pineapples to go on sale at Safeway, but whatever.) So those smaller leftover pineapples got to ripen on the plant and stink up the air with their sweet almost-wine, sort-of-garbage-y, perfume.

Narrowing in on the surface of the iconic local fruit, you’ll notice that the individual “eyes” are farther apart or more yellow at the bottom, because it ripens from bottom to top.

This is why most of the time a pineapple is sweeter at the bottom then at its top. And also explains why my family slices pineapple lengthwise into long spears as opposed to rings or chunks. Everybody gets a little bit of everything – and is ensured a few bites of extra sweet pineapple. (A helpful tip in case you don’t know how to cut a pineapple.)

Does anyone know what happened to pineapple bugs? What’s the theory on salting pineapple? Have a pineapple memory? Share it here in the comments.

May 21, 2013December 19, 2016

Details

What do you see in the picture above? Look at it carefully…

As the summer progresses, and given many unexpected developments, preparation for the upcoming 2013 Haleiwa Arts Festival is getting more hectic. But I have to say that I am still very excited. New prints are in the works as well as a bunch of other logistical things. And although it sometimes feels like I never have enough time in a day, things are falling into place.

Details in Lisa Ventura art

The above picture shows one of my latest original works. This piece, Trucks Rusting at Koloa Mill, is painted on one of the masonite frames that my husband and brother in-law have (very supportively) made for me. One of the cool things about the originals I’ll have on display and for purchase is that the “edges” of the works include details that their 2D reproductions won’t. For example, edges of the original Rusting Trucks painting includes sections of broken fence, and the number of the plantation truck. Most canvas frame prints repeat or mirror the edges of an image whereas the field of view continues in these originals. I’m tickled by these little details.

In an older drawing I did of my dad’s sisters and mother, I included another detail that I was surprised people noticed. I drew in, sticking out of the side of the porch they were all sitting on, a piece of metal. Many older plantation homes had this piece of metal attached to the porch or side of the house for scraping mud off of the bottom of work boots. In my graphite drawing it appeared as a grayish rectangle-y thing. I was so pleased that when it went on display for a competition I had entered, many local people recognized what it was! It was like those of us who knew about that little gray shape were a part of a special club.

That weird gray shape was a reminder of how hard my grandparents worked, and for others, summers picking pineapple, scrubbing sidewalk or other weekend chores, some relative’s home…

It’s so important to step back and view things as part of a bigger picture. But sometimes, we have to narrow in on small details to appreciate that big picture. Looking forward to hearing about the things you notice. Welcome to the club.