New Work

Updates

Check out the latest studio and exhibition updates on Patreon!

Hudson Valley Art Association

Upcoming exhibition with the Hudson Valley Art Association. Read all about it on Patreon.

New Patreon Post

I have a new post up on Patreon all about some pieces in an upcoming exhibition at the i.d.e.a. Museum in Mesa, Arizona.  Read all about it.

Patreon

The thing they don't tell you about being an artist is that your greatest creative endeavors are going to be in the budget.  Okay, okay, perhaps they did tell me that, just not in so many words... I believe my grandmother's exact ones were "you're going to be poor and miserable."  I stubbornly refused to listen, at any rate.  And as professions go, I'm pretty sure art chooses the artist, and not the other way around, so I never stood a chance.  And at best, my grandmother was only half right--and I'd add an emphatic "SO FAR" to the her claim anyway.  But all of this is just leading up to the current realm of creative exploration happening in the studio: diversified income.  I've put together a Patreon page, which is a wonderful resource for creative-types, allowing followers to essentially subscribe to an artist's work.  I'll be moving most of my blog posts over that-a-way, for those who'd like the follow.  I'll also be offering some fun perks, like postcards (who doesn't love snail mail?) prints and other goodies.  I figure if people are willing to shell out for a box of loot (cookies, yoga stuff, yarn, makeup, guy stuff [sorry, I didn't know what's in that one, the advertisers have clearly pegged me as the lady-type], etc.) to be mailed to them every month, a postcard-with-cool-art-on-it subscription should go over pretty well :)  We'll see.  I'll also be offering some on-line critiques.  So, please, when you have a moment, mosey on over to my new endeavor and take a look:  https://www.patreon.com/TanyaHarsch

Thanks for following me here!  It's been great :)

Artists Network Excitement

I've been so crazy busy moving and post-moving (unpacking, settling in, setting up the studio, etc) that I forgot I had been selected as Artist of the Month for November by Artists Magazine--which means there's a lovely write-up about Sebbie and me on the Artists Network website. We're both honored. 

Adventures in Life, oh my.

I have been lax in updating my blog, and I know it. Life happened. As of my last posting, I was happily living outside of Boston, dreaming of escaping to the country, and somewhere between then and now, the impossible happened: I bought a house and studio in the country and moved two states away to try a new version of life. So here I am in rural Maine, trying to get my studio up and running, or at least up and limping, but mostly fighting with flat packed furniture and sighing at the pile of boxes currently hiding all my belongings from me. The studio is a mess--I'll post pictures eventually, but at the moment the only thing about it that says "studio" is the easel in the corner, so they'll have to wait. In the mean time, of course, the art world keeps moving. Sebbie and I got a lovely write up in American Art Collector's November issue: don't miss Sebbie along with work by Simon Balyon at Lotton Gallery in Chicago this November.  

Also, Sebbie's headed out to Anderson Fine Art Gallery in St Simons Island, Georgia for the Oil Painters of America Eastern Regional Exhibition opening November 17th.

And "Catharsis" is making an appearance at the American Women Artists' National Exhibition in Tucson Arizona at the Tucson Desert Art Museum, on view now. And while we're on the subject, American Women Artists have elevated me to Signature status, which means more opportunities to show with them; I'm honored. 

And, incase you were wondering, you can find me teaching at the Art Loft in Rockland, Maine: come take a class and tell your friends.

Well, that's all for now, but I should have more exciting news soon. Wish me luck in my crazy new adventures.

Natura Morta

Reception! This Friday at the Lincoln Arts Project, Natura Morta, a two woman show featuring art jewelry by the marvelous Kelly Conroy and paintings by yours truly. There'll be drinks, nibbles, art, dead birds--really everything you could want in a Friday night out! But in all seriousness, the show came together beautifully: it's lovely, come see it. 

Art jewelry by Kelly Conroy

paintings by yours truly

The Creative Process

The Creative Process, the annual student and faculty exhibition at the New Art Center, opens today! Reception fun from 1-4 in Newton, Massachusetts--Sebbie will be there with his tortoise and turtle friends because they're cool like that, obviously. 

Natura Morta

I'm delighted to share our two person show, Natura Morta, is up at the Lincoln Arts Project gallery space. A combination of painting (me) and fine art jewelry (Kelly Conroy), the show focuses around the cycles of nature through birds--it's hard to explain, but it's beautiful. I expect you just have to come see it. Opening reception is June 2nd 6-9pm, be there.

New York Bound

I'm delighted to share that "A Boy and His Chicken" will be in New York City for the 84th Annual Juried Exhibition of the Hudson Valley Art Association. It'll be the second time this year I've had work at Salmagundi Club on Fifth Avenue. Both the boy and his chicken are thrilled.

Salmagundi Club, NYC, April 30th - May 5th 2017

Art Muse Contest

I'm delighted and surprised to share that my painting Catharsis (previously titled, I Tried--but that seemed to lead to confusion and a lot of questions most of which were answered by the word "catharsis," so I swapped) won Art Muse's December contest in the category of Emerging Artist. The piece will also be included in a group exhibition at Jack Meier Gallery in Houston, Texas next month. I'm also finding this a teachable moment, because apparently, in my hurry to make a last minute entry, I misspelled catharsis (cathersis just doesn't have the same ring to it) on my entry, and that's just terribly embarrassing. Proof your entries, children, you'll thank yourself later. 

Playing with light

I think I'm about done with this piece. It was an experiment of sorts, trying to push myself outside of my usual, working with photos (mine) and extrapolating my imagination all over the place. It's painted a lot more loosely than my usual style (you can't quite tell from the photo, because the painting is rather large so it reads more tightly painted than it really is), and I left off a lot of detail work I'd usually get caught up in. It was fun to see how much I could push the color in the moon light--even now, looking at it, I think I could have gotten away with more, but I think it's time to move on. Anyway, more updates soon, most likely involving sharks and foxes (guess which ones Sebbie is playing with?) as those are the current works in progress.  

Root to Bloom, take two

It's such an honor to see my name listed in such good company! If you're in the DC area, don't miss the show!

Open studios

It's about that time again. Open studios is almost upon us, and this year I'm doing two at once. I'm not even remotely ready, but I do have plans to fix that before the 4th of November. Come visit.

American Artists Professional League

I'm delighted to share that my piece, "I Tried," has been accepted into the 88th Grand National Exhibition of the American Artists Professional League at the Salmagundi Club in New York. It's the first time I've ever had work show in New York City, and despite everything they say, these days, about the art world no longer centering around New York, there's a little part of me that's totally disproportionately excited about it.

Root to Bloom

I'm delighted to share that this little painting of my studio sink has been accepted into Principle Gallery's juried exhibition, Root to Bloom: The Places Artists Call Home, opening November 11th. I started doing studies of the studio because I was thinking of moving, and in thinking of moving I suddenly realized how much I loved where I was. My favorite part of my studio, the part that stops me mid-task to just lust with my eyes, has always been the sunlight showing off, making ordinary things beautiful in the passing.

How (not) to write an artist statement.

Me, sitting down with a cup of coffee, my brain and a computer:

Brain: You can do this.

Me: Right, focus.  Okay, *reading* “please submit a short artists statement (around 150 words)” —haha, they left off the apostrophe.

Brain: Stop being mean.  At least they wrote something.

Me: Yes, okay.  Let’s see…This series of paintings is a series of paintings about… God, that’s awful.  *grabs sticky notes, writes “Try and sound human” and sticks to monitor*  That’s better. The painting is one of many in a series about whimsy…I wonder if politicians have similar post-its stuck all over their houses and offices?  Ha.

Brain: Focus.

Me: Right.  Sebbie and Oma’s Teapot is the most recent painting of paintings of Sebbie…  *stares off into space*  Is devenir how you say “to become” in French?  Or have I bastardized the Italian word, “devenire” by chopping off the e at the end and pretending it’s French?  

Brain: seriously.

Me: No, no, it’s okay, I’ll just look it up quick; it’ll bug me if I don’t check.  *googles*  Devenir.  That’s right.  I think I bastardized the French to make fake Italian actually.  Just look that up quick too.  *more  googling*  Diventare.  Yep, I did.  I’ve been living an English speaking country for too long.  How can I pull off moving back to Europe?

Brain: ARTIST STATEMENT

Me: Right.  But do I remember how to conjugate devenir?  

Brain: NO.

Me: Alright. Tanya Harsch is a person with fabulous hair.  Her paintings are images without polkadots. 

Brain: Try again.

Me:  Fine.  Sebbie and Oma’s Teapot…  Something.  This painting is one of a series of paintings depiction my childhood toy puppet, Sebbie, encountering adventures.  In this piece, he is asking for tea from a teapot styled as a cat.   The teapot has particular sentimental associations for me, as it belonged to my grandmother and I spent many a childhood meal, seated at her table admiring the teapot on its shelf.  I’m out of coffee.  I wonder how many paintings a year I’d have to sell to be able to afford to pay someone to write these things for me? 

Brain: You’re so close, just focus, just get it written, and then you can ignore it until tomorrow when I make you re-read it and proof it.

Me:  A secretary would be nice.

Brain: This is why artists drink.

Me: Oh, shut it.  How many words is that?  *counts*  Sixty three.  Bollocks.  What else do I say?  Let’s see… I paint toys because they bring so much happiness to people.  I started painting them nearly accidentally, bored in the studio one day, and found it to be so much fun.  I thought, “I’ll paint another, maybe a series of three…”  Little did I know, 50 paintings later, I’d still be happily playing with toys.  Does that sound stupid?  

Brain: Shhhh, just keep writing.

Me: I find people often connect to my work because they find a nostalgia in it, a connection to their own childhood.  I don’t even know if that’s true.  Most people just say, “wow, I love your paintings!”

Brain: Then leave it out.

Me: Yes, but word count.  Who invented artist speak, and how do I find them?  

Brain: Why?

Me: I’d like to send them a box of crickets.

Brain:  What?  Wait, never mind, I’m not getting dragged into this, let’s get back on task.

Me: I hear crickets are particularly hard to find and get rid of once they’re in your house, and they make that lovely noise to annoy you.

Brain: *through gritted teeth* ARTIST STATEMENT

Me: You do realize, in this hypothetical argument, I’ve just given my brain its own set of teeth?  Where does it keep them? 

Brain: Shhhh.  Quiet time.

Me: Oh, do I have 150 words already?

Brain: No, of course not, you didn’t have them before, you don’t have them now.  They don’t magically write themselves.

Me: Oh, magic self-writing artist statements, I’d be all over that.

Brain: I give up.

Me: Maybe I’ll just go paint for a little bit, come back to the writing when fresh… Don’t know why these things take me so long.

Brain: *hides under covers.  plays dead*

American Women Artists

NOAPS on the Cape

Last weekend I participated in a plein air competition on Cape Cod hosted by the National Oil and Acrylic Painters Society in conjunction with Addison Art Gallery. I've done a few of these things, you show up with an empty canvas, they stamp the back to show they saw it blank, and you come back in a set amount of time with a finished piece to hang. As a (mostly) studio painter, I spend a good deal of time alone, painting solo, being a hermit, and the part of me that thinks it knows what's good for me always insists I register for these plein air events when they're local--to get out and meet people, pretend to be social. But somehow that never works. It seems to me that most people attend such events either with the intention of slipping off alone to some secret painting spot, or in the company of friends who already know each other and so don't really need to meet anyone new. And so every time I attend, I end up by myself, marginally irritated with the world, and wondering why I thought it was a good idea to leave the studio in the first place. Except, standing in a beautiful place for a few hours really is reward enough. Even with only paint and ticks for company. And I'm never irritated enough to stop myself registering for the next one--my cynicism is endless betrayed by the persistent hope that the next one will be different. There really should be a Society of Plein Air Hermits. I'd be right at home.

Oh, and here's proof I was there ('cause the ticks are dodgy witnesses). Set up in progress, and the end result: