May 2018 Artist Interview Patti-Anne Grabel Patti-Anne Grabel is an artist, writer, and producer based in New York City and Bridgehampton. As an artist, she works in a range of mediums including painting, drawing, photography, assemblage, and found-object sculpture. Her life story and passion for cooking and entertaining inform her artistic practice. Her current series, Lick the Spoon, explores imagery that reveals narratives that are at once personal and universal, whimsical and poignant, intimate and public. Lick the Spoon primarily comprises photographic compositions printed on paper or glass depicting wooden spoons that have been painted, hung to dry on a clothesline, and arranged to tell stories. Patti sometimes incorporates other elements to convey meaning including text and objects. The narrative threads in each work embrace many themes including nourishment, sensuality, creative expression, and the liberating and necessary act of taking chances in life. In addition to their texture and sculptural quality, Patti uses spoons for their metaphorical richness. They are everyday tools and vessels. Whether part of a set of heirloom silverware or a humble wooden spoon for stirring and serving, they are used around the globe. Importantly, they represent central aspects of Patti’s life—nurturing family and friends and creating in her studio and kitchen. The notion of licking the spoon aligns with the artist’s credo of embracing adventure, new opportunities, and unexpected paths in her both her artistic practice and life. A selection of works from the Lick the Spoon series, which Patti began in summer 2017, were shown at the Chase Edwards Contemporary Gallery in Bridgehampton, NY, in September 2017. One of her pieces was included in a recent benefit event supporting Michael Bolton Charities. Her prints and acrylic paintings are on display at www.pattigrabel.com. Intsagram: @pattigrabel At what point in your life did you know that you wanted to become an artist? Did the realization emerge slowly? My interest in art began as a child. My beloved grandmother, Nana Norma, a librarian, was not only a teacher to many, but the one who inspired my creative soul. Norma lived in Brooklyn, N.Y. Jam-packed weekend visits involved cooking, reading, local plays, and train rides to NYC to see theater. Nana’s neighbor Edith was an artist, and on Sundays she would come down with an easel, paints, canvas, and water colors and teach my brother and me how to use paints to tell stories. Our stories. You see, with a limited budget and unlimited imagination, my Nana created weekends filled with magic. She would read out loud the most amazing stories that filled the room with fairy dust. She instilled the belief in me that I was capable of creating my own story. The pen, the paint brush, the spoon. My imagination was not to be questioned but cherished. When she passed, I felt an incredible loss in my life but with my art, cooking, and writing she is with me every day. My sadness turned to gratitude. Her body may have left this earth, but her soul carries on in me. My parents owned a summer day camp and so, growing up, I had the unique privilege of having an art shack filled with supplies at my disposable. At the end of the season, I would grab all the odds and ends left over from a busy summer. I created an art closet in my basement filled with pipe cleaners, lanyard, beads, paint, wood, markers, yarn, and tons of glue. In high school and college, I took art classes and found peace of mind while creating with my hands and releasing my imagination. I returned to serious art-making last year. I had gone through a divorce, remarried, and my children were in their early 20’s. It was time for me to, well, be me. I was proud of the life I had created for my family and now it was my turn. Becoming an artist has truly been a lifelong journey for me. I feel truly blessed to be using all the tools (paint, spoons, words) from my weekends in Brooklyn over 40 years ago with my Nana Norma, a true Renaissance woman. She must have known that, when I would turn 50, I would be searching once again for a place that offered solid ground, a community, and an outlet to meet like-minded creative people. I would find my voice and my conviction within. To enter the art world, I had to muster up the courage, strength, and perseverance to go for it! I guess that is the beauty of age. Like a wooden spoon, as it cracks, gets a bit discolored, it still has many lives and many uses. I relate to spoons. I am the spoon. My proud (Nora Ephron-like) moment came when I felt comfortable calling myself an artist thanks to several professional endorsements. One of my pieces was accepted by a charitable organization—Michael Bolton’s fundraiser last summer—and another was accepted by the Museum of Arts & Design for its annual benefit this past fall. My first gallery show was last year, too, and I have another scheduled in July. Thank you, Nana Norma for continuing to be my light, my teacher, my inspiration. How did you evolve your style and favorite mediums? My style and favorite mediums reflect my passion for building, love of family, and my personal story. My practice is based on photographic compositions printed on paper or glass depicting wooden spoons that I’ve painted, hung to dry on a clothesline, and arranged on canvas. Each tells a story with an aspirational theme. I sometimes incorporate other references and objects to convey meaning such as text and found objects. Spoons can be seen as anthropomorphic, which I leverage. I often approach new work with a sense of playfulness incorporating, for example, classic candies, paper butterflies, cords, or ribbons. The spoon is a potent symbol for me. In addition to their texture and sculptural quality, spoons appeal to me for their metaphorical richness. Most importantly, they represent giving and receiving in a single, humble motion—the very essence of love. I am looking forward to continuing my investigations and see where else my spoons take me. What are your time management techniques? Do you have regular working hours...or favorite times to work? The morning, the sun, the light all inspire me to paint. I rely on the sun and wind to dry my spoons. Like a farmer, I wake up early on a clear, sunny days and start my process. My spoons are sanded and painted. Once they are dry, I swirl them in vats of acrylic paint, mimicking the motion I use while mixing cake batter or soup, infusing love and soul in each turn. I then hand the spoons to my helpers as they quickly attach the spoons to the clothesline that spans my yard. The clothesline is a reminder to me that I am creating a life outside my kitchen, yet using the tools I revere. The clothesline is another traditional symbol of a women’s work and the dedication we have to our family. As the spoons dry, I watch and marvel as the sway in the wind. The birds chirp as the sun bakes them. The original oven. As they dry and some bubble and crack, I do not alter them. We accept ourselves for the beauty we embody. The spoons drip with paint and I imagine some drips are tears, joy, elation, and liberation as I take them off the line and place them on the floor of my studio. We have all gathered to tell a story. I sometimes pair the spoons and group them as couples and families. Other times I use them to create symbolic ladders, musical arrangements, or spiritual references. I then photograph them and prepare the images to be printed on Plexi-glass. Do you work on more than one piece at a time, or primarily just on one? Currently, I create one piece at a time while constantly working through different ideas in my mind—sometimes while running through Central Park, cooking my addictive challah bread pudding, or even in the middle of the night. I’m always trying out new narratives that reflect a part of me and my story and, hopefully, connect with viewers. What would you say is your biggest influence -- that which keeps you working, regardless of all else, your most steadfast motivation? That’s a tough question because my steadfast motivation is multi-layered—there are internal and external factors. I could write a book! (In fact, I’m writing a screenplay.) After years of very happily channeling my energy into caring for my family and raising two daughters, I realized that the time had come to rediscover who I was as an individual. I began writing, namely original content for reality shows that were optioned by countless production companies. I was honored and privileged to work with noted celebrities and famed producers. I then transitioned into the scripted arena writing a series that was loosely based on my life. Off to L.A. I went to pitch the series to ABC, NBC, FOX, and CBS. When the series was not picked up, I rewrote the series as a film. The art of reinvention. That’s me! I gave my main character the courage to create a life on canvas. When my film was not picked up, I was not going to delete my story. It was in motion and so was I. Heavily invested in her story, my story, I took the words off the page and put them in play…in real life motion. This is the true essence of the subconscious becoming the conscious. Life imitates art. Imagine drawing a straight dark line across a blank piece of paper. On one side of the paper you’ve got reality. On the other side, there’s imagination. As I paint I’m really just erasing that line and my world on paper and canvas merge. I vividly remember taking a class called “Film as Literature.” Our assignment was to watch films in class without the sound. The point was that the films didn’t need words to be heard. I watched the actors perform their roles and heard all of them through the nuances, body language, stance, stature, eyes, tears, laughter, passion, pain, the reaction of others as they entered the room. It was a moving painting—a story told without words. That memory has informed my artistic practice, too. Storytelling is what I do as a writer and, now, as an artist—it’s what I love doing. I aim to create work that resonates—especially among women who may recognize some aspects of my story in their lives. I want to inspire people—especially my two fabulous daughters—to seize the day, live life to the fullest, and chart their own course. What will you fill your real and metaphorical spoons with? What do you see for yourself as you write a new chapter or head in a new direction? Affirmation from friends, family, and strangers responding to my work inspires me. Finally, showing and conveying love it a powerful motivation for me. Does trying something new and not knowing the rules -- the boundary pushing -- create anxiety or excitement in you? (Or both?) Artists are famously non-conformists and, as anyone who knows me will tell you, I am a born boundary-pusher—and not just in art-making. I dive into writing, cooking and philanthropy with passion and drive trying to change the rules for the better along the way. My anxiety drives me in a very positive way. I love pushing boundaries and knocking down doors where I want to prove there is room for one more. The table is not filled, the industry is not saturated, and I am not invisible. Along the way through art and writing, I learned to redefine success. I am grateful every time someone looks at and responds to my art work, reads a story, or shares a recipe. If my art speaks to them, I am grateful. If it does not, I understand and am honored they took the time to view it. My art on the wall excites me in a way I could have never imagined possible. Do you enjoy having the "duality of both chaos and control" or are you happiest with a set plan? Chaos and control describe me perfectly. Art controls my chaos. When I write, cook, or paint, my mind has the amazing ability to create calm. When I paint the spoons, they tell stories. My thoughts become their thoughts. My mind gets lost in their stories. With every paint stroke, swirling spoon, and composition, I feel energized, empowered, and enlightened. This is when the calm is at its peak. I feel the spirituality of the spoon. This is when I feel blessed to have the freedom within my framework to create the reality I see for myself and the chaos and control work in unison. Do you have any projects or events forthcoming? I am proud to announce that my work will be showcased this summer at Chase Edwards Contemporary, a fine art gallery located in the Hamptons in the East End of Long Island. My exhibit is entitled “Freedom in the Framework.” Gallery owner Bonnie Edwards is a true champion of women empowerment and has always rallied around women artists, encouraging them to pursue their artistic practice and own their creative power. Chase Edwards Contemporary Date: July 21,2018 Time: 4:00 - 6:00 P.M. Location: 2462 Main Street Bridgehampton, NY 11932 Patti Grabel www.pattigrabel.com [email protected] @pattigrabel 914-772-8117 |
Musical Spoons
48 in. x 36 in. 2017 Wooden spoons painted with acrylic, placed on canvas, photographed, printed on archival paper face mounted to 1/8’ acrylic. 
Freedom in the Framework
24 in. x 30 in. 2017 Wooden spoons painted with acrylic, placed on canvas, photographed, printed on archival paper face mounted to 1/8’ acrylic. 
Infused Love
36 in. x 48 in. 2017 Wooden spoons painted with acrylic, Red Hots infused PVC tubing, placed on canvas, photographed, printed on archival paper face mounted to 1/8’ acrylic. |