Jenny Blazing - Painter
A New Perspective on the Everyday
Seeing the beauty in everyday things is something artist Jenny Blazing has a knack for. Who knew that something as simple as a truck could have so many aspects?
Jenny grew up in the Pacific Northwest but has called Durham home for the last 20 years. She enjoys its edgy quality and history from which she can thrive as an artist. Her expression of everyday objects give us a new perspective of the world around us.
Au Courant: Tell us about yourself, such as where you come from and how you got started being an artist.
Jenny: I’ve lived in Durham for the last 20 years and I feel it’s a city that welcomes diversity and difference, and I think this encourages ingenuity. My path to painting has been circuitous. I grew up in the Pacific Northwest where rainy weather left many hours for indoor artistic projects. I took some art classes here and there, so it was no surprise when I chose design as one of my undergraduate majors. I graduated from University of California, Davis with degrees in both Design and Economics. However, practicality lead me to a career in the financial services sector in San Francisco. Eventually, I left the west coast, relocated to Durham and subsequently earned a Ph.D. in Marketing from UNC, Chapel Hill.
Over the years I have been drawn back to the love of art I nurtured as a youth and in my undergraduate design program. I have chosen to express myself through painting. The Triangle is a wonderful community for artists. I credit my painting teachers Anne Gregory, Luna Lee Ray, and Chad Hughes with helping me to develop my unique style.
Au Courant: You have a loose flowing style. Can you share with us where your creative ideas come from for your work?
Jenny: There is something about the elements of industry that interest me and inform my work, and it has nothing to do with fine engineering and minted-out products. Like life, the precision involved in the manufacture of components, machines, and buildings is fleeting and ultimately at odds with the elements, and the ideas behind that understanding are where my creative energies lie. I think this is why I find the decaying and aging of these industrially produced trucks much more interesting than a spanking new, perfectly engineered version. And this is why I use a very loose, textural style to represent them. Because in the grand scheme of things, they are as fragile and changeable as living things with perhaps a slightly longer timeline. My somewhat exaggerated, intense, interpretations of these vehicles captures something unique and hauntingly beautiful about what happens as these trucks age, that others also seem to find captivating. My work gives a voice and perhaps an extended life to these otherwise overlooked relics.
My work to date has focused on three types of renditions. The first, is an appreciation of the entire truck in its final surroundings. In these works, I juxtapose the vehicle and its colorful aging process to its staid barren setting. Often the aging vehicle appears fairly lively and vibrant in comparison to the subdued and yet subtly beautiful desert climate. I think this contrast is what drew me to these vehicles in this environment. The stark sense that the truck is separate from, yet returning to nature. A second set of pieces, aptly titled Components, takes a closer, more abstracted look at some of the elements of these machines. In a way these pieces are the Gray’s Anatomy of trucks, sometimes revealing the inner workings through the grill or shattered headlight of a vehicle. There is so much happening on the surface as well as just under the surface of these vehicles that I have felt drawn to take a closer perspective in studying them. The final set of pieces is focused on my imagination’s view of some of the processes involved in locomotion. They are purely abstract pieces that have a somewhat industrial feel. They come strictly from my imagination.
It tickles my mind to paint these studies, and I feel that I could never exhaust the creative directions I can travel from here. I am thoroughly entertained by peoples’ reactions to my work, whether they are enamored or bewildered. I’m frankly in love with this material, and this is baffling to me, because I am not, “a truck person,” in the obvious sense of the word. I am no expert when it comes to their internal workings, or the processes that were involved in constructing them. I must admit my attraction is shallow and purely aesthetic. However, it has been a pleasure getting to know people who do study, admire and understand the mechanics of trucks.
Au Courant: The muse of many of your pieces are trucks. Elaborate on why trucks give you inspiration.
Jenny: When I try to understand my attraction to these trucks, I have no concrete explanation. I didn’t understand exactly why I was drawn to them when I first discovered them while on vacation with friends in Sedona, Arizona. We had taken a side trip to a small vista town named Jerome, Arizona. The home of a once thriving copper mine, now Jerome is more of a tourist destination with western-themed shops and restaurants. And the mine which closed in 1953, was repositioned to appeal to tourists as a “ghost town”. The conversion was simple. The owners simply left the buildings, tools and old work trucks on site and added a few critters and a “prospector” offering opportunities for kids to “pan for gold”. The highlight for the kids on our visit was a mule, named Pedro Gonzales, who would ring a bell if you offered him a treat. As we had some young boys with us who needed entertaining, we paid our admission and began wandering around the grounds of this mine.
The trucks were strewn around the periphery and garnered little attention compared to the other features, but I found these vehicles to be the most interesting aspect of this compound and began photographing them. I now know some of the makes and models a 1950 Chevy, a 1947 KB Ford International, but to me they were simply interesting trucks. I was particularly fascinated by what was happening on their surfaces as they aged. The layers of paint and rust that revealed themselves as the elements had their way. The headlights, sometimes in shards, sometimes missing altogether. The askew ways that these once strong work horses had settled into their haphazard positions, never to be called upon again. They still retained a dignity and a presence to me that was unshakable.
These vehicles have been a source of inspiration for me for more than a year now, and I have not exhausted my interest in them. I have found that they provide a unique contrast to their surroundings, and yet those surroundings explain why such old vehicles remain in the state they are in, as they would not be so well preserved in a harsher climate. I am amazed at the emotions my studies evoke in people who see them. These feelings range from nostalgia to heightened interest in their rich colors and textures. I am happy to see that in addition to the usual arts-oriented individuals, people otherwise not drawn to art exhibits, seem entertained by my work. In fact, it turns out that one of those trucks was a long way from home. It is a 1935 Corbitt truck produced by a truck manufacturing company that was headquartered in Henderson, North Carolina. The company closed in 1955, but members of the Corbitt Preservation Association have attended my shows.
Au Courant: You are a mixed media artist and I can see your performance pieces use a lot of different materials. Tell us about the types of materials you like to use.
Jenny: It is important to me that my work be loose and reflective of my vision. This is why I prefer to use an eclectic approach that incorporates impasto surfaces and mixed media. I often begin with a “gesso underpainting” frosting the canvas with a thick layer of gesso and rending an initial roughing in of the first phase of my piece. This gives me a textured foundation layer that incorporates a “sketch” of some of the fundamental elements of the piece that I plan to develop. Then, depending on what is called for by the composition, I often incorporate collage elements into key places. I don’t shy away from technology, and I love incorporating tinted and scanned images of unexpected sources of texture. I have been known to arrive at the copy shop with anything from wool sweaters to recycled microtiter plates. Found objects are another source of interest. I sometimes collage with raffia or other fibrous elements. And of course, I hate to throw out paint, so I continuously use the remaining paint on my pallet to paint custom collage papers that often end up a part of my compositions. There is no limit to the possibilities. Ultimately, I unify the piece using layers of rich toned acrylic paint.
Au Courant Where can Au Courant readers see your work?
Jenny: I have had recent shows at the Page-Walker House in Cary, the Horace Williams House in Chapel Hill, and the Golden Belt Room 100 Gallery and Liberty Arts both in Durham. For an overview of my work visit jennyblazing.com.
S.D
A New Perspective on the Everyday
Seeing the beauty in everyday things is something artist Jenny Blazing has a knack for. Who knew that something as simple as a truck could have so many aspects?
Jenny grew up in the Pacific Northwest but has called Durham home for the last 20 years. She enjoys its edgy quality and history from which she can thrive as an artist. Her expression of everyday objects give us a new perspective of the world around us.
Au Courant: Tell us about yourself, such as where you come from and how you got started being an artist.
Jenny: I’ve lived in Durham for the last 20 years and I feel it’s a city that welcomes diversity and difference, and I think this encourages ingenuity. My path to painting has been circuitous. I grew up in the Pacific Northwest where rainy weather left many hours for indoor artistic projects. I took some art classes here and there, so it was no surprise when I chose design as one of my undergraduate majors. I graduated from University of California, Davis with degrees in both Design and Economics. However, practicality lead me to a career in the financial services sector in San Francisco. Eventually, I left the west coast, relocated to Durham and subsequently earned a Ph.D. in Marketing from UNC, Chapel Hill.
Over the years I have been drawn back to the love of art I nurtured as a youth and in my undergraduate design program. I have chosen to express myself through painting. The Triangle is a wonderful community for artists. I credit my painting teachers Anne Gregory, Luna Lee Ray, and Chad Hughes with helping me to develop my unique style.
Au Courant: You have a loose flowing style. Can you share with us where your creative ideas come from for your work?
Jenny: There is something about the elements of industry that interest me and inform my work, and it has nothing to do with fine engineering and minted-out products. Like life, the precision involved in the manufacture of components, machines, and buildings is fleeting and ultimately at odds with the elements, and the ideas behind that understanding are where my creative energies lie. I think this is why I find the decaying and aging of these industrially produced trucks much more interesting than a spanking new, perfectly engineered version. And this is why I use a very loose, textural style to represent them. Because in the grand scheme of things, they are as fragile and changeable as living things with perhaps a slightly longer timeline. My somewhat exaggerated, intense, interpretations of these vehicles captures something unique and hauntingly beautiful about what happens as these trucks age, that others also seem to find captivating. My work gives a voice and perhaps an extended life to these otherwise overlooked relics.
My work to date has focused on three types of renditions. The first, is an appreciation of the entire truck in its final surroundings. In these works, I juxtapose the vehicle and its colorful aging process to its staid barren setting. Often the aging vehicle appears fairly lively and vibrant in comparison to the subdued and yet subtly beautiful desert climate. I think this contrast is what drew me to these vehicles in this environment. The stark sense that the truck is separate from, yet returning to nature. A second set of pieces, aptly titled Components, takes a closer, more abstracted look at some of the elements of these machines. In a way these pieces are the Gray’s Anatomy of trucks, sometimes revealing the inner workings through the grill or shattered headlight of a vehicle. There is so much happening on the surface as well as just under the surface of these vehicles that I have felt drawn to take a closer perspective in studying them. The final set of pieces is focused on my imagination’s view of some of the processes involved in locomotion. They are purely abstract pieces that have a somewhat industrial feel. They come strictly from my imagination.
It tickles my mind to paint these studies, and I feel that I could never exhaust the creative directions I can travel from here. I am thoroughly entertained by peoples’ reactions to my work, whether they are enamored or bewildered. I’m frankly in love with this material, and this is baffling to me, because I am not, “a truck person,” in the obvious sense of the word. I am no expert when it comes to their internal workings, or the processes that were involved in constructing them. I must admit my attraction is shallow and purely aesthetic. However, it has been a pleasure getting to know people who do study, admire and understand the mechanics of trucks.
Au Courant: The muse of many of your pieces are trucks. Elaborate on why trucks give you inspiration.
Jenny: When I try to understand my attraction to these trucks, I have no concrete explanation. I didn’t understand exactly why I was drawn to them when I first discovered them while on vacation with friends in Sedona, Arizona. We had taken a side trip to a small vista town named Jerome, Arizona. The home of a once thriving copper mine, now Jerome is more of a tourist destination with western-themed shops and restaurants. And the mine which closed in 1953, was repositioned to appeal to tourists as a “ghost town”. The conversion was simple. The owners simply left the buildings, tools and old work trucks on site and added a few critters and a “prospector” offering opportunities for kids to “pan for gold”. The highlight for the kids on our visit was a mule, named Pedro Gonzales, who would ring a bell if you offered him a treat. As we had some young boys with us who needed entertaining, we paid our admission and began wandering around the grounds of this mine.
The trucks were strewn around the periphery and garnered little attention compared to the other features, but I found these vehicles to be the most interesting aspect of this compound and began photographing them. I now know some of the makes and models a 1950 Chevy, a 1947 KB Ford International, but to me they were simply interesting trucks. I was particularly fascinated by what was happening on their surfaces as they aged. The layers of paint and rust that revealed themselves as the elements had their way. The headlights, sometimes in shards, sometimes missing altogether. The askew ways that these once strong work horses had settled into their haphazard positions, never to be called upon again. They still retained a dignity and a presence to me that was unshakable.
These vehicles have been a source of inspiration for me for more than a year now, and I have not exhausted my interest in them. I have found that they provide a unique contrast to their surroundings, and yet those surroundings explain why such old vehicles remain in the state they are in, as they would not be so well preserved in a harsher climate. I am amazed at the emotions my studies evoke in people who see them. These feelings range from nostalgia to heightened interest in their rich colors and textures. I am happy to see that in addition to the usual arts-oriented individuals, people otherwise not drawn to art exhibits, seem entertained by my work. In fact, it turns out that one of those trucks was a long way from home. It is a 1935 Corbitt truck produced by a truck manufacturing company that was headquartered in Henderson, North Carolina. The company closed in 1955, but members of the Corbitt Preservation Association have attended my shows.
Au Courant: You are a mixed media artist and I can see your performance pieces use a lot of different materials. Tell us about the types of materials you like to use.
Jenny: It is important to me that my work be loose and reflective of my vision. This is why I prefer to use an eclectic approach that incorporates impasto surfaces and mixed media. I often begin with a “gesso underpainting” frosting the canvas with a thick layer of gesso and rending an initial roughing in of the first phase of my piece. This gives me a textured foundation layer that incorporates a “sketch” of some of the fundamental elements of the piece that I plan to develop. Then, depending on what is called for by the composition, I often incorporate collage elements into key places. I don’t shy away from technology, and I love incorporating tinted and scanned images of unexpected sources of texture. I have been known to arrive at the copy shop with anything from wool sweaters to recycled microtiter plates. Found objects are another source of interest. I sometimes collage with raffia or other fibrous elements. And of course, I hate to throw out paint, so I continuously use the remaining paint on my pallet to paint custom collage papers that often end up a part of my compositions. There is no limit to the possibilities. Ultimately, I unify the piece using layers of rich toned acrylic paint.
Au Courant Where can Au Courant readers see your work?
Jenny: I have had recent shows at the Page-Walker House in Cary, the Horace Williams House in Chapel Hill, and the Golden Belt Room 100 Gallery and Liberty Arts both in Durham. For an overview of my work visit jennyblazing.com.
S.D
All content @2020
|