Drawing in the Round
On the joy of art books, circular paintings, and Betty Blayton-Taylor
Hellllloooo my dear GUT friends.
I miss our every day lessons and drawing. I hope you are keeping up your creative practice, whatever that looks like for you. If you fall off, no biggie. There are always ten minutes waiting for you to pick up your pen and begin again. (Start today!)
And in general, I hope this Sunday dispatch finds you listening to some upbeat music, taking deep breaths, looking up toward the sky (snow! rain! clear blue!), and paying attention to your five senses. (Pop quiz: What do you smell right now??) So much is happening right now, and as is always the case with the biggest things in life, we don’t have control over much of it. It’s hard for a lot of us. It’s hard for me. Let’s remember to take a breath, and focus our attention on the present, and remind ourselves that in this moment we are good enough. Let’s correct course from the inside out. Keep our eyes wide open. Do not be afraid to lean in. Take care of our hearts, and each other.
❤️✏️❤️
Thanks to everyone who took the 30 Days of Drawing survey. Your responses are so helpful. This is your last reminder: if you haven’t already, please take the survey today. It only takes a few minutes, and we are closing it for good in 24 hours, so thank you!
Alright. Now let’s talk art.
I have a confession to make.
I have a small problem. A small art book problem.
The books themselves aren’t small. They’re quite large, in fact. Most are oversized, overflowing with colors and textures and smart ideas and inspiration. My problem isn’t small either. I have hundreds of these books. I’ve collected them over the past three decades, and as I move back and forth across the country, up and down the coasts, and from studio to studio, I haul them with me. Every single move (and there have been many) I pack up my babies - I mean my books - and schlep the boxes for tens, hundreds, thousands of miles. Then I unpack them again. Then pack them again. Then unpack them again. And again and again and again. And you know what? I don’t care. They are my kin.
When I was a teen and my BFF Tascha finally got access to a car, the first place we went was the San Francisco bookstore Green Apple. That’s where I discovered my most favorite place in the whole world: the Green Apple Used Art Book Section. That is the exact spot where my not small art book problem began. And while moving them might be a problem, these book are always, more importantly, a solution. When I am in need of a creative jolt, I turn to my art books. Uninspired? Art books. Depressed and want to hide from the world? Art books. I scan the spines, and something surprising always catches my eye. I open the book and boom. I see something new. Or old. Always unexpected. Always a delightful direction, and immediate anti-depressant.
My art books are my brain on the outside of my body. Dusty, faded, and soggy from the sun, but always ready to leap at a new idea.
This week, as I unpacked books in my new studio (more on this soon) I cracked open one of my favorites: Black Refractions, Highlights from The Studio Art Museum in Harlem. I was greeted by some familiar work that’s always a joy to behold: Portraits by Jordan Casteel. Paintings by Jacob Lawrence. And then, to my surprise, a page I didn’t recognize: a painting by an artist named Betty Blayton-Taylor.
The abstract, organic form looked kind of like a tumbling lansdcape. Kind of like its in motion. And when I looked a little closer, I realized it’s not just a painting. It is a collage! I didn’t know anything about Betty Blayton-Taylor, so I cracked my computer and did a little googling. And holy smokes, friends. Betty was so much more than this Untitled beauty above. Her work is brilliant.
First off, SHE PAINTED IN THE ROUND.
What!?! These round paintings I liked even better than the piece in the book!
Second, Betty was also an educator and activist, and changed the course of tens of thousans of young people’s lives. I was so delighted to learn about her life and work that I’m dedicating today’s dispatch to her. Today, we’re breaking the rectangluar wall.
You’re going to need scissors. And a smile.
Without further ado, let’s do this.
Betty Blayton-Taylor
"The kind of thought that goes into creating a painting, a piece of sculpture, a collage is also the same kind of thinking that goes into producing a creative human being." — Betty Blayton-Taylor
Betty Blayton-Taylor may not be a household name, but without her we may never have heard the name of one of her students you are almost certainly familiar with: Jean-Michel Basquiat. That’s right. Betty created the school where Basquiat first studied. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
Betty Blayton-Taylor (1937-2006) was a painter, collage artist, educator and activist. A native of Virginia, Betty studied art at Syracuse University and settled permanently in New York City in early 1960s. That’s when she became engaged in education, community work, activism, and its intersection with art.
Blayton-Taylor was a founding member of the Studio Museum in Harlem. Opened in 1968 during a period where very few (if any) Black artists were included in major art exhibitions, the purpose of the Studio Museum was to “advance the careers of artists of African descent and to utilize institutional resources and the arts to serve the broader Harlem community.” 1
Blayton-Taylor also helped established the Children’s Art Carnival at the Harlem School of the Arts, an arts education program that engaged disadvantaged Harlem youth that served 5,000 to 10,000 kids every year. Originally hosted at the Museum of Modern Art before moving to Harlem, the program “featured an exhibition space with toys, touchable artworks, and even modern masterpieces from the collection (such as hanging mobiles by sculptor Alexander Calder) installed at a child’s eye level. An adjacent studio area was outfitted with art supplies so that children could make work of their own.”2 One of the Harlem School’s students was a young Jean-Michel Basquiat.
And all the while, Betty kept making art. She primarily used painting and collage, with a focus on abstraction. She had a keen interest in the metaphysical and spiritual dimensions of life and art. A colleague called her a “spiritual abstractionist.”
Marline A. Martin of the Clyfford Still Museum said, "Betty’s timeless and layered compositions were created to tap into the sub-conscious. A believer in the metaphysical, the spirit world, and many realms of religion, she sought to convey this in art, especially in her use of the circle, the continuum, and the representation that life never ends."
Circle Paintings
Round paintings are also referred to as a “Tondo” form. Tondo means using a circular shape in paintings, sculptures, and other artworks. "Tondo" comes from the Italian word rotondo, which means "round". The tondo form has no corner or edges to deal with. Only one continuous line of an edge, creating the entire form.
Betty often used round canvases often in her work. She had a deep, longstanding interest in the metaphysical realm and spent decades exploring different religious and spiritual practices. These explorations had a direct influence on her artwork. The use of a round canvas, for example, was a nod to the “cyclical nature of life’s many stages and the continuity between man and nature.” 3
"For Betty it wasn’t just about technique. It was more about your spirit and how you add that into your work.” - Marline A. Martin
Betty never stopped creating - in addition to painting, she made prints, published illustration and made sculptures, and her work is now in collections including the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Studio Museum in Harlem. And while Betty’s work is deeply respected by the art world, she is more well known for her work on behalf of her community and the arts.
Just as she refused the sharp containment of the rectangluar canvas and created in a round, flowing, inclusive space, she refused to focus exclusively on the individualistic, capitalistic art world and put her energy towards supporting her community.
While her focus on social justice and community wellbeing could be the reason more people don’t know her name today, personally, I beleive it’s precisely why we should.
Betty Blayton-Taylor, artist, educator, and activist, passed away in New York City in 2006.
Now let’s see what we can learn about Betty’s approach by drawing in her shoes.