Ray Foody wants to excite your nerve endings.
Jill Connor / The Citizen
Artist Ray Foody, of Corning, recreates some of his technique for his graphite, charcoal and pastel drawings that are on exhibit at Burritt's Cafe in Weedsport until March 26. The psychologist said his art is an encounter between the artist and the paper.
Artist Ray Foody, of Corning, recreates some of his technique for his graphite, charcoal and pastel drawings that are on exhibit at Burritt's Cafe in Weedsport until March 26. The psychologist said his art is an encounter between the artist and the paper.
Through his artwork, hanging in Burritt's Cafe in Weedsport, Foody hopes to stimulate every set of eyes his art meets. He designed its raw sensory data to be deciphered any way the spectator wishes.
So it should surprise no one that Foody's art is fully abstract.
“I start with an empty canvas and just see what I'm compelled to do,” he said. “There are no real rules; it's all very open. I try to let it be a dialogue.”
Foody limits his tools to graphite, pastel and charcoal, and his palette to black, white and gray. Though narrow, the method serves his mission.
On 2-by-3-foot sheets of paper he can densely pack details using his drawing utensils. One piece looks like a city overdosing on industry with dark plumes of smoke, impossibly arched roads and automobile traffic in the air. Another looks like a swarm of flying saucers circling over a landscape, leaving curvaceous trails of smoke in their wake.
But Foody's images are like Rorschach tests - these interpretations say more about this writer than his work.
The way people perceive and interpret the sprawl of visual stimuli interests Foody, a clinical psychologist and avid reader of philosophy. He feels abstract art reaches the audience's nerve endings with amorphous imagery open to interpretation, while representational art imparts on the audience the artist's interpretation - of a landscape, a dog or whatever the work depicts.
Thus Foody's exhibit asks his audience to “Play Without Words.” At Burritt's, he has found a willing pool of participants in the process.
“Several people come in and wander around to look at each individual piece,” said Darryl Wolford, who co-owns Burritt's with his wife, Sherry. “There's a lot of color and texture in our cafe, so the black and white artwork made an interesting and dramatic contrast.”
Foody's interest in the audience end of the artistic exchange is surpassed by his passion for its authorial side. With a reduced tool set, Foody can also watch the way his creativity responds over time.
“I've always been interested in evolution. Often I notice I go through certain developments as I'm trying something out,” he said. “I'm discovering what I can do with the materials I have.”
Spanning two years and 70 drawings, Foody's current series has yet to trace the full path his art travels. He painted multimedia works with acrylics and pastels prior to hatching the idea.
Foody doodled and took art classes in high school in the Chicago suburbs, but art was an afterthought to him until his early 30s, when he spotted the abstract paintings of Willem de Kooning. Inspired by the German artist's clashes of brusque colors and forms, Foody dedicated himself to art.
That dedication intensifies when Foody is at work in his studio.
“There is a loss of a sense of who he is and of time,” said Kathleen Buschman, a friend of Foody's since the two worked together at the Hillside Children's Center in Auburn. “He can go hours and hours and not think to stop and eat, or even know what's going on around him. That's what I find most fascinating about his work.”
Though she acknowledges the ferocity of Foody's devotion, Buschman believes his art is no obsession. His refusal to call it a career suggests she's correct. Instead, wholly wrapping himself up in a work's creation is a conscious part of Foody's process.
“Ray's greatest strength is his ability to be one with the medium and be right in the very moment,” Buschman said. “What he's got when he makes art is the key to living; it's just showing up for the moment.”
Foody finds continued inspiration in the children he sees at his practice in Corning. His method mirrors the purity of their creativity, which he feels is free from doubt and self-criticism.
Like Picasso, Foody finds himself aspiring to make art from the mindset of a child. The splendor of his work may suggest a child's hand, but each canvas reflects an aged respect for art's power to create meaning with its audience.
“I'm not trying to define something whole,” he said. “Just capture a sense of living in the world.”
Staff writer David Wilcox can be reached at 253-5311 ext. 245 or david.wilcox@lee.net
If you go
What: “Play Without Words” by Ray Foody
When: Through Wednesday, March 26
Where: Burritt's Cafe, 8419 N. Seneca St., Weedsport
For details: Call 834-6870
So it should surprise no one that Foody's art is fully abstract.
“I start with an empty canvas and just see what I'm compelled to do,” he said. “There are no real rules; it's all very open. I try to let it be a dialogue.”
Foody limits his tools to graphite, pastel and charcoal, and his palette to black, white and gray. Though narrow, the method serves his mission.
On 2-by-3-foot sheets of paper he can densely pack details using his drawing utensils. One piece looks like a city overdosing on industry with dark plumes of smoke, impossibly arched roads and automobile traffic in the air. Another looks like a swarm of flying saucers circling over a landscape, leaving curvaceous trails of smoke in their wake.
But Foody's images are like Rorschach tests - these interpretations say more about this writer than his work.
The way people perceive and interpret the sprawl of visual stimuli interests Foody, a clinical psychologist and avid reader of philosophy. He feels abstract art reaches the audience's nerve endings with amorphous imagery open to interpretation, while representational art imparts on the audience the artist's interpretation - of a landscape, a dog or whatever the work depicts.
Thus Foody's exhibit asks his audience to “Play Without Words.” At Burritt's, he has found a willing pool of participants in the process.
“Several people come in and wander around to look at each individual piece,” said Darryl Wolford, who co-owns Burritt's with his wife, Sherry. “There's a lot of color and texture in our cafe, so the black and white artwork made an interesting and dramatic contrast.”
Foody's interest in the audience end of the artistic exchange is surpassed by his passion for its authorial side. With a reduced tool set, Foody can also watch the way his creativity responds over time.
“I've always been interested in evolution. Often I notice I go through certain developments as I'm trying something out,” he said. “I'm discovering what I can do with the materials I have.”
Spanning two years and 70 drawings, Foody's current series has yet to trace the full path his art travels. He painted multimedia works with acrylics and pastels prior to hatching the idea.
Foody doodled and took art classes in high school in the Chicago suburbs, but art was an afterthought to him until his early 30s, when he spotted the abstract paintings of Willem de Kooning. Inspired by the German artist's clashes of brusque colors and forms, Foody dedicated himself to art.
That dedication intensifies when Foody is at work in his studio.
“There is a loss of a sense of who he is and of time,” said Kathleen Buschman, a friend of Foody's since the two worked together at the Hillside Children's Center in Auburn. “He can go hours and hours and not think to stop and eat, or even know what's going on around him. That's what I find most fascinating about his work.”
Though she acknowledges the ferocity of Foody's devotion, Buschman believes his art is no obsession. His refusal to call it a career suggests she's correct. Instead, wholly wrapping himself up in a work's creation is a conscious part of Foody's process.
“Ray's greatest strength is his ability to be one with the medium and be right in the very moment,” Buschman said. “What he's got when he makes art is the key to living; it's just showing up for the moment.”
Foody finds continued inspiration in the children he sees at his practice in Corning. His method mirrors the purity of their creativity, which he feels is free from doubt and self-criticism.
Like Picasso, Foody finds himself aspiring to make art from the mindset of a child. The splendor of his work may suggest a child's hand, but each canvas reflects an aged respect for art's power to create meaning with its audience.
“I'm not trying to define something whole,” he said. “Just capture a sense of living in the world.”
Staff writer David Wilcox can be reached at 253-5311 ext. 245 or david.wilcox@lee.net
If you go
What: “Play Without Words” by Ray Foody
When: Through Wednesday, March 26
Where: Burritt's Cafe, 8419 N. Seneca St., Weedsport
For details: Call 834-6870