Or my art is anyway! My piece, Lunch Date in Del Ray, was selected for the cover of the Del Ray Artisans 2020 calendar. I feel so honored to have my piece selected!
Lunch Date in Del Ray, oil on canvas, 9”x12”
The Astrophysicist with Supernova Eyes by Monica Hokeilen, oil on canvas 14"x14"
It is Feminine to be Smart
Sitting at my table in my studio one day, I was preparing canvases for various paintings that I had in mind to create later that week. Looking over my shoulder as I sketched was the 9 year-old daughter of friends who were in town for spring break. They had just returned from a day of exploring the museums and monuments of downtown Washington, DC, and while the rest of the family rested from their busy day, she wandered into my studio and quietly observed my work, eventually asking questions. So we talked about my process and the ideas I had for different projects.
One of the pieces I was brainstorming was for an upcoming show at the Del Ray Artisans Gallery called “Sacred Feminine”. The curators of this exhibit were looking for artwork that sought to break female stereotypes and unhealthy societal pressures on physical appearance and behaviors, while at the same time celebrating femininity. For this, I wanted to create a piece that featured women in science, and to show that it is feminine to be smart.
So while looking at my mostly-blank canvas with just the hint of two eyes and a nose and outline of forehead that I had lightly sketched onto it, we talked about how I would make the eyes look like galaxies or supernovas or something cool like that. She suggested the rings of Saturn (this girl gets me). I described how I wanted to carve equations in the paint on her forehead, which got a skeptical but-I’ll-humor-you-this-time look from my young friend. She suggested instead I could paint a woman that is balancing motherhood, work, and domestic life, with a baby on her hip and a pot in her hand and thoughts about work swirling above her - representing the many different ways we as women are pulled, and contribute, in family and society. It was an honest and creative conversation that made me think about the importance of communicating these issues in both what I create and how I live my life.
It wasn’t until after they left for home that I was able to paint the piece I had begun with her in the studio. I decided to model the woman’s eyes after the Crab Nebula because of its historical significance, and because it is beautiful. The Crab Nebula formed when a star in the Taurus constellation went supernova. When this happened about a thousand years ago, the exploded star suddenly became visible from Earth and was observed as a new star by ancient Chinese astronomers. Later, after telescopes were invented, it was viewed in more detail, and is listed as the first Messier object (M1) - a famous catalog of astronomical objects. It was tricky painting the Crab Nebula and also making them look like eyeballs, but the intent is there. On her forehead, carved in the paint, are physics and astronomy equations - the tools used to define and characterize the objects we see beyond Earth.
I am very happy with the way this painting turned out. For me, it shows how science, and the effort and awe of understanding our universe, can be a spiritual part of our existence. Happily, too, it was accepted into the “Sacred Feminine” exhibit at the Del Ray Artisans Gallery for May 3 - June 2, 2019.
Sunset at Gusev Crater, Mars by Monica Hokeilen, oil on canvas, 24”x36”
Sunset at Gusev Crater, Mars
Instead of a blue sky like ours on Earth, the thin, dusty Martian atmosphere scatters red wavelengths of sunlight in all directions, resulting in a faint mauve Martian sky as seen from the surface. But at sunset, as the light travels through thicker reaches of the atmosphere, the red light is scattered so much that robotic eyes on its surface capture a blue disk of light around the small distant sun.
It was that phenomena and the images taken by the Spirit rover at Gusev Crater, Mars in May 2005 that inspired me to create this piece. This was my first finished MarsScape (Martian Landscape) and one of my first paintings created mostly using palette knives, with lots of patience allowing layers to dry between application, some brushwork for blending and glazing, and repeated experimentation with color until I got the look I wanted. I struggled with color because it felt wrong. Not only were there no fluffy clouds to add drama and the sun was too small, it was surprisingly difficult to make a mauve-ish sky not look muddy or Earth-sunset-y. And to be honest, it was a challenge to not have green anywhere in the painting (almost, anyway - I did sneak it into a few spots). But I kept working at the color, and one day it all fell into place. Now I can sit back and enjoy the sunset. :-)
detail of Sunset at Gusev Crater, Mars by Monica Hokeilen
If These Hills Could Talk by Monica Hokeilen, oil on canvas, 24”x48”
MarsScapes
After years of pondering and experimenting, I am happy to share with you my current direction in art, painting MarsScapes (like landscapes but of the Martian surface). This effort happily combines my art with my educational background in Planetary Science and previous research focus on water on early Mars.
To create my MarsScapes, I use NASA images of the Martian surface taken by the rovers Spirit, Opportunity, and Curiosity as guides to painting these landscapes. The painting shown above, If These Hills Could Talk, was inspired by a scene the Curiosity rover observed of Mt Sharp in Gale Crater on Mars in 2015. Within these ridges (red, lower right), rolling hills (orange-yellow), rounded buttes (blue-ish purple), windblown cliffs (distant pink), and mysterious mountain (yellow) is a story about a ancient Martian land, exposed to water and wind in varying ways that both resemble processes on Earth and present something entirely new.
I am creating my MarsScapes primarily with a palette knife, applying thick, textured layers, and with some minor brushwork to add thinner glazes of paint. Each layer was allowed to dry between applications, which for me is a lovely representation of how a planetary surface is modified over time: gradually added to, changed, covered, removed. The colors are exaggerated and altered from the actual colors imaged on the Martian surface to provide visual interest. Instead of muted ochres (yellow-brown) and siennas (reddish-orange-browns), I use pinks, reds, oranges, yellows, and purples, with pops of blue or green to add contrast and energy to the work. I took this artist liberty with the idea that, while my efforts are far greater in intensity, it is symbolically similar to the color adjustments scientists use to show subtle differences in mineralogy, elevation, etc. Ultimately, my goal is to create landscapes that uniquely represent our celestial neighbor, not replicate it. Therefore there are inconsistencies in my work compared to the actual landscapes that exists just next door, and I’m okay with that. ;-)
Below are some close-up images showing detail within If These Hills Could Talk.
To learn more about the actual image of Mars that If These Hills Could Talk was inspired by, and the Curiosity mission, as well as other missions to Mars, visit mars.nasa.gov.
Cover art by Monica Hokeilen
Cover art for the Compendium of Astrobiology Classics by Blue Marble Space
Last spring I was hired by Blue Marble Space Institute of Science to paint and design the cover of a fascinating book that is part science, part history, part philosophy. This book highlights seven historic scientific documents from the past four hundred years that address the possibility of life beyond our earthly shores, long before the idea of aliens and space travel permeated our culture and scientific and engineering endeavors. Each historic document was chosen by a scientist currently in astrobiology, who then describes its value to science and how it relates to understanding life on earth and beyond.
I feel deeply honored to be a part of this project. It was hugely inspiring to read the chapters and paint what I saw in them. A truly rewarding experience! And a fascinating read.
You can find this book, Compendium of Astrobiology Classics: Perspectives on Foundational Texts on Amazon, here.
Monica Hokeilen standing in front of her tent at the Art on the Avenue festival, 6 Oct 2018.
Art on the Avenue
The Art on the Avenue Multicultural Art and Music Festival in the Del Ray neighborhood of Alexandria, Virginia was again a success this year. With over 300 artists, 5 music stages, near-perfect weather, and despite being a holiday weekend, festival-goers of all ages crowded Mt Vernon Ave, admiring the artwork and crafts as they flowed through.
This year my tent was on the north end of Mount Vernon, with the front facing the busy street that was blocked off for pedestrian traffic only, a grassy lawn behind, and a music stage nearby. So I opened my tent in front and back, allowing people to move through it from both sides. Friends and strangers wandered in and out of my tent, talking with me and each other about what I created. It is always nice getting feedback, and was extra heartwarming when someone walked in and fell in love with a piece of my art.
While many moments during the festival were busy, some were quite. That was when I got to sit back and people-watch. Some festival-goers would hurry by on some errand or rendezvous or goal. Others meandered, expressions popping and changing on their faces as they took in the art in one tent and then another. Sometimes someone would elbow their companion and point to one of mine, or wander in and pause to take in my pieces one by one. It was interesting (and sometimes surprising, which is probably a testament to being kind of new at this) to see which pieces got the most attention - which ones resonated with kids or sparked conversations or got purchased - and which ones didn’t.
The positive feedback and opportunity to talk about my work and sell some artwork makes outdoor art festivals a lot of fun! But getting ready for festivals are a ton of extra work. The artwork needs to be finished, photographed, archived, edges trimmed with black paint if not already painted, varnished, framed or hanging-hardware (screw eyes and wire) attached to the back. Labels to be displayed next to the artwork need to be written and printed, cut to size, and velcro attached to the back so it stuck to the wall. Reproductions and note cards need to be professionally printed, archived, signed, and bagged, labeled with the size and price. Business cards and About the Artist cards and How to Commission a Painting cards also need to be designed and ordered. If I’m really on top of things, I then spend some time planning the layout of gallery walls and pieces to help the morning of the festival go smoothly.
Finally, everything gets loaded into two cars the evening before the festival and the alarm set for pre-dawn hours. At the festival, the equipment and supplies and artwork are all unloaded. The tent goes up first, then the gallery walls, which need the feet on the legs adjusted to the uneven street surface and cross-support bars attached on top to keep them steady (a result of lessons learned after my first Art on the Avenue festival a few years ago). The paintings are hung with their wall labels, prints are placed in folding racks, and cards are displayed on a table. And then I can take a breath. Double check everything is ready to go, my square card reader is working, my chair is accessible but out of the way, my water bottle filled. Thank my awesome husband and son for helping me. And welcome people to my tent, my art, the festival.
All of the preparations and work getting set up for an art festival are exciting and satisfying in their own way. But as someone who is used to being on my own, painting in my studio for most of the day, the steady stream of faces and conversation are exhausting. By the time a festival is over and everything is taken down and carted back home, I am ready for my bed. I often spend the whole next day as lazily horizontal as possible, buoyed by the friendly faces and supportive comments and excited purchases of another successful art festival.
A Gift for Generations
Living in the Washington DC area offers interesting opportunities to find little pieces of history that often go unnoticed. These seemingly-common remnants of the people and events that shaped our past fit into the scenery, dwarfed and shadowed by the obvious destinations of monuments and government buildings and museums. But when noticed, they add color and character to the big events of our past. Occasionally I will stumble upon a little gem of history after talking to some generous historian or visiting a garden or park that dots this region. It was in one of these moments, standing in the shade of a giant tree that dates back to the beginning of our country, a souvenir from early explorations, a gift between presidents, that I knew I wanted to create this painting.
The Osage Orange tree growing at River Farm was given as a seedling to Thomas Jefferson by Lewis and Clark from their journey west. Jefferson in turn gave it as a gift to George Washington's family, who planted it on a piece of his farm, now called River Farm and managed by the American Horticulture Society. This over-200 year old tree has lived through the growth of our nation, provided cool shade on hot humid summer days for generations under her reaching arms, and survived storms and wars and drought and industrialization through the chapters of our history.
As I stood painting this tree one late-spring day, picnickers lounged on blankets in her shade, children ran around laughing and playing, and visitors to the River Farm walked by on the path through the garden. I am sure that most did not know the historical significance of the tree for whose shade they were grateful. Similar silent witnesses to human events cover our planet, with no voice to speak up for their own existence, nothing but arms waving at the whim of the wind and roots holding strong to the Earth's surface.
This is a gift that has lasted generations, out-living those who collected the seeds, out-living the gifter and the recipients and the ones who placed it in the soil. Generations have watered this tree, planted flowers in its shade, watched it grow. May generations continue to know the beauty and comfort of this grand tree and pause to contemplate the lasting impact we leave on this earth.
A Gift for Generations, oil on canvas, 30"x40"
My 3pm Appointment, oil on canvas, 12"x9"
60 Paintings in 60 Days
A few months ago I decided it was time for a challenge, something to help me break some habits and loosen up while painting. I gave myself 60 days to create 60 paintings. I painted on mostly small canvases and in any medium, any subject that felt interesting, starting a new painting each day. This gave me freedom to try new things (abstracts!, watercolor, flowers and birds) - no big deal if it was a total disaster since I only spent one day on it; tomorrow would be a new project. Most paintings turned out pretty good, and all were fun to create. You can see my favorites in the Daily Painting page of my website, http://www.hokeilenart.com/daily-painting, divided up by month.
Now that that challenge is over, I'll have to try a new one.
Call me Madame-Curator
Last spring I wrote a proposal to curate an art show with the Del Ray Artisans that combined art with science, technology, engineering, and mathematics. I had guessed (correctly) that I was not the only artist in my community that has a background in a STEM field, whether professionally or not. Happily, my proposal was selected and I was paired up with Sophia, who had similarly proposed a math-art show.
Last fall we got to work figuring out what we wanted our show to look like, and we gave it a name, Art2 (which should be read as "Art-squared"). My painting, Periodic at 475, would be the cover art. We wrote Call-for-Entry announcements to encourage local artists to submit their works for consideration in our show. We wrote descriptions of Art2 for advertisements and announcements in print and digitally on websites, publications, and social media. I designed a postcard to announce Art2, and we spent a winter evening in Barnes and Nobles labeling and stamping them for distribution. That week I also sent another hundred postcards to schools throughout the surrounding area.
By January, the art submissions came rolling in, and by the deadline mid-month we had over a hundred pieces to choose from. Narrowing down the artwork was difficult, but a few didn't fit the show theme as well as we hoped, and a few were possibly too big, which helped the process. An email went out to the accepted artists with instructions for artwork dropoff, hanging hardware requirements, and volunteer opportunities. This was happening.
During two nights at the end of January, artists arrived at the gallery with their accepted artwork pieces. What a thrill to meet all of these people who identified with our show! Some were scientists and engineers and computer geeks who saw beauty in their work and extended that inspiration into their creations. Some were artists whose themes already gravitated toward the mathematical (symmetry, tesselations, etc). Some were artists or scientists who wanted to participate and did their best to create STEM-related art. Many pieces incorporated Fibonacci numbers and geometric shapes and abstractions.
With the help of volunteers, we hung the art in the gallery, planning the space with size, color, and theme, keeping it balanced and complementary but not too much so that it felt predictable or boring. Wall tags were printed by the gallery staff and we got them up just in time for the opening night reception.
Finally, it was time for the party! Volunteers brought food, we brought drinks. Volunteers with the Del Ray Artisans poured in, knowing what to do and getting right down to doing it. The gallery filled with artists and friends and family and art-enthusiasts and curious public. We talked and mingled and sold art. We gave a speech and thanked the artists and volunteers and gallery board members who made it all possible. The night ended, volunteers got the gallery cleaned up, and we finally all went home, exhausted.
The show was up for most of February. It is over now, the artwork taken down, delivered to the buyers or returned to the artists. Sophia and I, having enjoyed our first curating experience and now wiser in the process, have already been brainstorming new proposals for future shows with Del Ray Artisans.
Life Happens
Ha! I am constantly reminded that despite our best laid plans, life happens. It derails our progress, strips our momentum, knocks us flat on our backs, and it does not care one tiny little bit what goals or projects we might have been elbow deep in. We can only pause, breathe, and get back to it when we have the opportunity.
This past winter was a rough one for me. I won't go into details, but I will say that all painting stopped. I just needed to pause and breathe. And now I am getting back to it, back into the studio, back into painting daily, back to daydreaming. It is a wonderful feeling to be back!