Synapse Artworks

2008-07-30T18:34:00.006-05:00

I have not forgotten about the approximately three faithful readers of this horrendously un-updated blog (Hi mom). Honestly. I have just been insanely busy, moved to SLC, and spend most of my time making artificial eyeballs. To frost the cake, I still don't have a new studio space yet. Despite the idling art engine, I was still able to finish up a few new sake sets of my latest design at a local pottery, and they're all shiny and sparkling for your visual consumption. This design was fabricated, cast in plaster, and slipcast from the original moulds in porcelain. These vessels proved a true test of engineering geekery, but the results ultimately proved worthwhile. Bottle: 6.25 x 3.5 x 2.5" Cup: 1.75 x 2.5 x 1.75"

Open For Business

2007-08-10T21:15:00.000-05:00

Blank walls are lame. Instead of standing there awkwardly looking from your beer to that white splash of nothingness and back again, get yourself a nice work of art. It will cover up that nail hole and perhaps even fill that tiny, aching space in your heart. Sidle up to the new Etsy online storefront at http://www.synapseartworks.etsy.com and get your two-dimensional fix.

The Worth of Causal History - porcelain, walnut, blood, iron oxide, plexiglass

2007-04-26T14:51:00.000-05:00

This work is indicative of my testing the more conceptual waters again. The impetus for this work was an exploration of how the value of artworks are assessed, a process often contingent on seemingly shifting premises. I am also fascinated by how space is allocated to denote for us, "something important is within these boundaries." When we walk into the beaming white gallery space, it demands a near-reverential attitude, just as the frame or glass case indicates preciousness is contained within. This work toys with these notions from a base, materialistic perspective. Inside the case lie two porcelain tiles, each with frame-like features. Thumb prints are centered in each, the right made in my own blood, the left in iron oxide. Materially, the pigments are identical: my blood is colored by iron. However, the process constituting the right tile is culturally loaded with notions of artistic romanticism as the artist literally puts blood, sweat, and tears into the artwork. The left tile might be viewed as mere facsimile, and thus does not deserve the aesthetic embellishment of the other tile. Responses to this work have been varied, and sometimes characterized as pretentious, but that is exactly what is being called into question. 12x7.25x2".

Arch Teapots - slipcast porcelain from original moulds

2007-04-26T14:46:00.000-05:00

This is the last teapot mould I fabricated before leaving my studio space at UW-Madison. I enjoyed the engineering problems associated with creating a six-piece mould for the body along curved sides. 8x6.25x3.25"

Sake Set - slipcast porcelain from original moulds

2007-04-26T14:33:00.000-05:00

These are three examples of the sake sets I made, all slip-cast porcelain. The wood-fired versions were fired in Michael Schael's anagama in Cambridge, WI, and the middle set was fired to cone 6 oxidation. These pieces were fabricated and carved in plaster, and proved an excellent lesson in exactly how finicky plaster can be when trying to take working moulds off a model. These moulds are no longer in production. Decanter: 8.5x3x3". Cup: 4.5x1.5x1.5".

Pint Cups - slipcast porcelain

2007-04-26T14:21:00.000-05:00

I created a simple pint cup mould to quickly cast the clay substrates needed for my foray into screen printing with clay experiments. I did not want to use the traditional over-glaze decal method because of the toxicity of the overprint material, and the tendency for the images to wear off with extended use on functional ware. So, I attempted to create screen printing slips made with clay materials that could be used like underglaze and transferred, thereby allowing the image to be sealed under an impermeable clear overglaze. The results were mixed, and I have yet to be completely satisfied as the printed transfers generally require a fair amount of touch-up. Nevertheless, once I have the proper facilities at my disposal again, I intend to continue researching this process. A few successful examples are shown here, along with some simple, stark wood-fired cups with shino liner glaze.

Curved teapot - slipcast porcelain from original moulds

2007-04-26T13:27:00.000-05:00

After graduating in 2003, I continued working at UW-Madison as a non-degree student, putting my more conceptual work on a back-burner for a mental breather, and returned to (semi) functional ceramics. I had dabbled informally in slip-casting, but saw amazing potential in this process, so I began researching it and honing my skills over the next couple years. I liked the fact the artwork could appear in multiples, like screen prints. To me, it had the capacity to both reference the "lofty high-art" problems associated with metaphysically locating an artwork which has multiple instances, as well as the crass, kitschy production of low quality porcelain objects pop artists would appreciate. Slip-casting is now my preferred process in ceramics, and I feel that I have only begun to explore its possibilities. This is one of the first teapots I crafted to be slip-cast. It was prototyped in clay using hand building techniques. These particular examples were fired to cone 6 in oxidation. 7x11x6.25"

Chroma Nominalism - mixed drawing media on Coventry Rag

2007-04-26T12:59:00.000-05:00

I do few drawings anymore, but I executed this one as the first in what I hope to be a conceptual triptych about metaphysics. Prior to the production of this piece, I was blessed to have Terry Penner, professor emeritus of philosophy at UW-Madison, admit me into his final graduate seminar on Plato before retiring. The seminar focused on interpreting Plato's metaphysical theory in relation to modern language theory and how analytical philosophy is carried out in general. This seminar, and Penner's lectures overall, had a tremendous impact on how I view philosophy and art, and served as foundational springboards from which I have embarked on many conceptual works. For anyone who has studied Plato, you certainly have come across his Theory of Forms, a metaphysics in which beyond the particulars in the world there exist abstract objects, or "forms." These are thought to be more "real" than material objects, and exist behind and beyond physical objects, regardless of them. Nominalists, on the other hand, refuse to admit of any such entities, insisting all there is to what we call, for example, "orange," is all the particular orange things. We just use the term as a convention of language, but it refers to nothing. I am not advocating nominalism here, but it just happens to be the first in the series of drawings I choose to work on. I gathered orange drawing media - a pencil, cray-pa, pastel, pen, marker, and crayon to make the drawing. Since language is instrumental in the concept, I insisted on using products specifically labeled "orange." A number was assigned to each drawing media, and a dice was rolled to determine which item would be used to draw a freehand vertical line. The process was repeated until the page was filled. Through this piece, I wanted to reference this metaphysical debate and propose to the viewer to inquire whether each of these markings are a particular orange, or whether this can facilitate our seeing through the individual marks to what might be referred to as "orange itself." 25x38".

In My Mind, On My Lips, And In My Heart - screen print

2007-04-26T12:47:00.000-05:00

This print was completed with both a conceptual and technical goal in mind. The latter was to convince myself that I could still draw representationally, since I had not so in a long period of time. I was relieved to discover I still could. The former was an examination of the short prayer said during communion proceedings during Catholic mass. I am interested in how science has historically disenfranchised religion, and this print is meant to examine how spiritualism is being eroded by materialism. This work does not advocate either position, but rather serves as a reflection on personal history. 26x13", edition of 6.

Untitled - porcelain tile, underglaze, mdf, acrylic

2007-04-26T12:43:00.000-05:00

This piece is another aleatoric tile work, and an attempt to take advantage of the tendency of porcelain to warp during quick drying. For this piece, porcelain tiles were again cut out and allowed to dry by the whims of the environment. Each tile was then striped using the linear curve created by warping on one of the four given sides of itself. The tiles were mounted on dowels, alternating the line position. I expected this piece to be Op-Art-ish, but I certainly did not foresee the extent to which it would be caffeinated and buzzed. Subtlety be damned with this one. Exact dimensions unknown, but about 24x36x5".

A Documentary - Twenty Games Of Simon At Skill Level Four

2007-04-26T12:32:00.000-05:00

Plainly and simply, my memory is terrible. I can barely remember last week, and I have to write everything down, making lists upon lists just to function in everyday life. This print attempted to follow the subjectivity thread from the Cheeto print, but with an emphasis on the relativity of memory. While I wanted my prints to be mere documentations of a series of events I did not control, they were in actuality nothing of the sort. For instance, consider the percent error I likely attained in "documenting" the either/or coin flips 11,935 times in the print below. So this print is something of a confession and recognition of the element of human error, using a favorite childhood toy, Simon, as the medium. I played twenty games at the most difficult skill level, and as you can see, did not do well. Each game was recorded with the given light-ups in their respective orders. So, this print in a way memorializes both the effectiveness and shortcomings of memory. 19.75x30", edition of 6.

A Documentary - The Existential Relevance Of One 13.5 Ounce Bag Of Cheetos

2007-04-26T12:10:00.000-05:00

This print was a departure but also an extension of the abstract randomly generated work I was producing. After fabricating a fair number of the aforementioned prints, I began thinking more about the documentary nature of these works. To me, they had a very existential feel - the prints were merely the representations of a series of mundane events, and only referred back to their own processes and history. However, the same series of events could have been represented infinitely many ways. While we strive for objectivity in documentation, it is ultimately steeped in a subjective point of view, simply as a result of perspective, the limits of language, and our unavoidably separate consciousnesses. This may seem like excessive philosophical drivel over Cheetos, and it likely is, but I became fascinated with the mundane, completely benign elements of everyday life, and the subjectivity with which we approach them with. Consequently, I set out to create another random print, but to document something utterly pointless, elevating it to something gravely important through the absurd action of art-making. I bought a 13.5 ounce bag of Cheetos, and methodically removed each morsel, one by one, and traced it on a piece of paper. I then rated its cheesiness on a scale from 1 to 4, which is reflected by the colors in the print; the deeper the orange, the greater the cheesiness. 20x26", edition of 8.

Untitled - porcelain tile, colored slip, mdf, acrylic

2007-04-26T11:58:00.000-05:00

Unfortunately the lousy quality of this image really does not do this five-paneled tile piece justice, as the depth is completely indiscernible. The chance processes in relation to ceramics are much more visceral than in the more abstract realm of screen printing, given the physicality and plasticity of the material. I attempted to take advantage this characteristic while executing this work. I assembled a small tray of various sized porcelain spheres I rolled and fired to harden. Thin porcelain tiles were rolled out and cut, and each tile was dropped from a height of a few feet atop the spheres, the still-plastic tile registering the impact. The tiles were then dried, sprayed with colored slip from the side to accentuate the bulbous forms, and mounted. There were many variables set up to arrive at this end object - the layout of the spheres, the color, direction of mounting, height of mounting, etc. I still have notebooks full of incomprehensible rows of numbers which are essentially the raw "code" from which this work came to be. Dimensions variable depending on mounting, but about 48x48x6".

Double Latte Via Quantum Construction - screen print

2007-04-26T11:51:00.000-05:00

I am a complete coffee junkie, and the nerdy title of this print reflects that. While standing over the finished print in the studio, waiting for it to dry, all I could see in this busy, jittery mess was little espresso molecules crashing around with little milk molecules, so I went with it. Slightly reminiscent of that great scene in the film Pi, where the cream is dumped into the cup of coffee. 21x30", edition of 4.

Where Y Is Randomly Generated, X Moves Towards Saturation - screen print

2007-04-26T11:40:00.000-05:00

This diptych is meant to be displayed without blog text between each respective print, but you get the idea. For this print, I used the Fibonacci sequence as a starting point, and drafted the print so the layers would gradually begin to saturate into a solid tone as it progressed further outward to the edges. 22x30" each, grey - edition of 2, green (not pictured) - edition of 4.

Untitled - porcelain tile, colored slip, mdf, acrylic

2007-04-26T11:32:00.000-05:00

This work is in the same vein as the grey tile image below, but this time I randomly assigned given depths to the tiles during mounting. This piece is great to walk around in front of, as it seems to morph with each new vantage point. Unfortunately, it is fragile almost to the point of stupidity, as it is composed of paper thin tiles precariously perched on wooden dowels. The piece almost looks like a topographical map of some sort of mechanical forest. 48x36x8"

11,935 Either/Or Instances Superimposed In Five Layers - screen prints

2007-04-26T11:14:00.000-05:00

These prints are aptly named, as there are literally 11,935 either/or events that led to image you see above. I began by drafting a grid of 4x4" squares, and using rubylith, flipped a coin to determine whether a given cell of rubylith would be peeled away from the positive or left intact. I did this in five layers, each time dividing the previous square into four new cells, the final layer consisting of 1/4" cubes. Knowing I wanted to print this during the fall semester, I began this work in the summer because it took nearly a month just to draft, and the fact that it didn't land me in a psych ward still amazes me. I ended up taking a set of quarters which I colored on one side with a black marker to make the faces more distinguishable, and scattering them across the floor, then recorded their pattern. I probably walked around for a month with tiny rubylith cubes stuck to my jeans and in my hair. I enjoy the fact that this print looks like it was drafted by a computer, or could have been, but was actually obsessively drafted by hand. While a machine could have burped out this image in a fraction of a second, I would never have had the chance to digest how the image unfolded, cell by cell, had I not spent hours staring at it. 30x22", yellow/green - edition of 8, blue/grey - edition of 5.

87 Degrees, Relatively High Humidity - screen print

2007-04-26T11:00:00.000-05:00

Every so often an artwork just seems to work effortlessly, and I feel this is the case with this print, which is still one of my favorites, and unfortunately, one I printed in a very small edition. Part of the attraction for me of working in the manner I did (drafting screen print positives by randomly cutting hundreds of pieces of rubylith) was that you never knew what was going to happen until you finally inked up the screen. These prints are methodically and fastidiously planned out, yet the end product is completely veiled until it is printed. I often stood for several minutes examining how each ink run layered with the last, trying to understand how the print was built up to an incredibly complex image from only a few simple variables or parameters. 21x30", edition of 5.

Untitled - porcelain tile, colored slip, mdf, acrylic

2007-04-26T10:48:00.000-05:00

It was only a matter of time before the ideas I was developing with screen prints would bleed over into my mainstay - ceramics. This tile work was created by rolling out thin sheets of porcelain, about 1/16" thick, then cutting two-inch tiles from them. The tiles were left out on plaster slabs to dry, warp, and curl by whatever air currents or drafts were circulating about the room. Each had a colored slip randomly assigned to it, and then the tiles were fired and mounted on a board using dowels to pull them off the surface for depth. Part of the influence for these grid-like patterns stems from a research grant I received my senior year in college. I was awarded a fellowship from the School of Education, which houses the art department at UW-Madison, to conduct technical research on porcelain and glazes. My entire work table was often covered with hundreds of tiny test-tiles, all composed of different porcelains, their respective ingredients and mineral compositions giving them subtly differing cream, white, and beige tones. I would often catch myself staring at these grids of tiles, thinking how mesmerizing and attractive they looked. So, eventually the test tiles morphed into finished works. 12x48x2".

Untitled - screen print

2007-04-26T10:42:00.000-05:00

11x11", edition of 7.

Untitled - screen prints

2007-04-26T10:34:00.000-05:00

These two prints were drafted using the same positives, just different color runs. These were constructed by randomly drafting an asymmetrical grid on rubylith, scoring it, the flipping a coin to determine whether a cell of rubylith would be removed or remain. This process was conducted several time, then layered through printing. 14x11", blue - edition of 8, orange - edition of 9.

Untitled - screen print

2007-04-25T22:11:00.000-05:00

Another screen print drafted by chance - the color, and length of the cells were determined by tossing coins or rolling dice. This one was drafted by hand using photo-opaque markers on frosted mylar. 22x15", edition of 5.

Decaffeinated - screen print

2007-04-25T22:04:00.000-05:00

This print was done for a print exchange entitled "Whoops" and depicts a happy housewife accidentally making accursed decaf coffee for her husband. I was obviously looking at some tacky '50s illustration art at the time. 14x11", edition undetermined.

Untitled - screen prints

2007-04-25T21:51:00.000-05:00

This set of three prints was the second endeavor using the aforementioned random process. (On a tangent, I feel the need to clarify that I use "random" loosely, as I'm in fact fairly skeptical about randomness. I suspect this is only a convention of language we use to frame the unknown, which has a specific causal history, but is, of course, unknown. Enough brash metaphysical claims though . . . ) Again, the prints were drafted by setting up a set of variables within a given range, and then seeing what would happen. The first print, which I don't really like, is an amalgamation of the other two. But hey, maybe this is how plaid was discovered. 7x22" each, edition of 4.

Untitled - screen print

2007-04-25T21:26:00.000-05:00

This small, simple print deserves an explanation, as it had massive implications for me. This print was conceived and executed at a time when I was beginning to approach language theory in philosophy, and I was constantly stewing, trying to understand exactly how meaning in language worked. I was also reading and ruminating about how an art object is to be distinguished from a so-called "real object." This mental toying prompted my questioning to what extent an artist has control over his/her work, and how are we to sort the deliberate from the arbitrary. We all know critics have written volumes into works of art, illuminating their murky depths for us, only to find out there was nothing there to begin with, or they were completely wide of the mark. Duchamp gave us readymades. Warhol used repetition until meaning was all but void. So, how does the true causal history of an artwork relate to its intention or alleged meaning? I had, and still have, no idea; but I set out to make work that was based heavily on documentation of an event, rather than trying to convey meanings. In this print, I assigned a grey tone to each number on a dice, set up a template, and drafted an artwork by chance. This process (which I would later find out was similar to John Cage's while composing music with the I-Ching) was heavily exploited in my later undergrad years in both prints and ceramics. This concept continues to linger in my artwork, and is an idea I wish to flesh out both aesthetically and philosophically in the future. 7x22", edition of 6.

Teapot - thrown/handbuilt porcelain, undergalze, clear overglaze, cone 6

2007-04-25T21:23:00.000-05:00

3x6.5x4"

Breathe I - screen print

2007-04-25T21:21:00.000-05:00

7.5x7.5", edition of 10.

Synthcell - screen print

2007-04-25T21:14:00.000-05:00

Again, a more political/punk rock take on the anatomy theme. I'm still fond of this print, one of the first I did. 11x30", edition of 10.

Teapot - thrown/handbuilt porcelain, cone 6

2007-04-25T21:12:00.000-05:00

3x5x3.25"

Portal - screen print

2007-04-25T21:10:00.000-05:00

I think I did this one to meet an end-of-the-semester print quota . . . 7x7", edition of 5.

Angel I - screen print

2007-04-25T21:07:00.000-05:00

A more ethereal take on the anatomy influence. 11x30", edition of 4.

White Crackled Jar - thrown/handbuilt porcelain, crackle glaze

2007-04-25T21:04:00.000-05:00

4.5x4.5x3.25

Sex And Violence - screen print

2007-04-25T21:01:00.000-05:00

This is actually a tiled print, meant to be displayed with a minimum of four prints together (though there are 25). A little tribute to pop art and punk rock.

Untitled - screen print

2007-04-25T20:39:00.000-05:00

Please I - screen print

2007-04-25T20:17:00.000-05:00

Another screen print drawing from a fascination with anatomy and medical illustration. 10x10", edition of 8.

Teapot - slab built stoneware, underglaze, clear overglaze

2007-04-25T20:15:00.000-05:00

8.5x5.5x3.25"

Untitled - screen print

2007-04-25T20:01:00.000-05:00

This screen print was executed around the time I started taking life-drawing courses. 22x14.75", edition of 5.

Chartreuse Teapot - stoneware, underglaze, clear overglaze

2007-04-25T19:58:00.000-05:00

3x5x4"

Skull Study - charcoal on bristol board

2007-04-25T19:55:00.000-05:00

If skulls are what the kids want and think is hip these days, then skulls the kids shall have. 11x14".

Pelvis Study, charcoal on bristol board

2007-04-25T19:47:00.000-05:00

I contribute these life-drawing studies not because of their content but rather as a testament to the fact that, yes, I really can draw. Amid a sea of screen-printed cubes, that might not be apparent. 11x14".

Footed terra-cotta teapot with stains

2007-04-25T16:40:00.000-05:00

dimensions unavailable

An Electronic Introduction

2007-04-25T09:49:00.000-05:00

Introduction:
Welcome to Synapse Artworks, the web presence of Brian Besch. I have developed this blog to create a virtual space for my artwork, as well as a forum to discuss the work, other art, or even techniques in clay or print media.

If the initial content of this blog seems fragmented or scattershot, well . . . that's because it is. The first goal in this endeavor was an archival one . I made an attempt at an organized sampling of my work so the interested viewer ccould get a feel of what I have completed, where my influences and inspirations derive, and how this will inform the vector future work will take. I have tried to lay out the images in a somewhat linear manner, with accompanying descriptions of process and impetus. Nevertheless, a meandering feel may be the result of the span of this work, which encompasses production from the time of early undergraduate to informal post-baccalaureate. Another contributing factor to this fragmented feel might be that I tend work in a disjointed manner, approaching each work, especially the conceptually driven, from a specific vantage point with a specific endpoint in mind. While the interwoven connectivity is apparent to me via reflection of my own personal history, this may not translate fluidly to the viewer. At the very least, hopefully the work you find here features "family resemblance," in the vein of Wittgenstein from his Philosophical Investigations.

Autobiographical:
I grew up in Two Rivers, Wisconsin, graduating from Washington High School in 1998 and began attending the University of Wisconsin-Madison in the fall of that same year. I was your typical undirected art student, a trait I maintain presently. While a lack of direction is often viewed as a despicable personal trait, the philosophically inclined might be keen to the observation that a retracted, contemplative indecision can afford unique opportunity. Rather than careening down the tunneled freeway, a wanderer can find the unconventional by roaming the forked back alleys.

My mental wanderings balanced with an obsessive work-ethic led me to pursue a major in philosophy as well as my bachelor of fine arts degree at the UW. I found a perverse solace in philosophy, which provided the fuel for my questions about aesthetic theory and the metaphysics of art, while at the same time burned down any knowledge I thought I had about them. I became very intrigued by the dialogue, or more aptly heated debate, philosophy and art have engaged in throughout history. But I came to view this as sibling rivalry, perhaps even between Siamese twins, as the lines between the two blurred. While I claim no intellectual capacity to make sweeping distinctions in philosophy, these problems provided a cornerstone for my art production. Studying Plato's metaphysics juxtaposed with modern language theory and analytic philosophy under the tutelage of Terrence Penner, an amazing teacher and human being, concretized my fascination with the interplay of art and philosophy.

After graduating in 2003, I stayed on at the UW as a non-degree student, but worked nearly full-time. During this time, I honed my technical skills in ceramics, and created a small body of work. However, I was more highly focused on technical research and trying to understand clay as a substance, not just the happenstance artistic media I chose to work in.

After a dalliance with graduate school aspirations, I decided the academic world was not for me. I fell into a unique opportunity to pursue training as an ocularist (a person who makes ocular prostheses, or artificial eyes), which I currently undertake in Salt Lake City, Utah.

Contact:
Some of the work you will find here is available for purchase; some has already been sold and serves merely as documentation. If you would like more information, please do not hesitate to contact me at synapseartworks@gmail.com with your inquiries about the art, technical information, or prices.

*For the sake of formality, I am announcing (unsurprisingly), no, you cannot copy, reproduce by any means, distribute, or otherwise use any of the content of this blog without consent from me.