Ellen Berkenblit

Practical Magic

- Kristin Farr

Letters have faces, and fingers could be figures. What is recognizable in Ellen Berkenblit’s paintings is beside the point. The tigers and fingernails are her vocabulary. Ellen eliminates the levels between consciousness and the sublime, frequently finding that elusive, painterly trance. Her marks are spontaneous, physically-driven, and layered continuously until the images rise to the top, nearly subconsciously, but straight from her soul. With Ellen as a conduit, gestural signatures unfold, not without thought, but without barrier or hesitation. She stays the course.

Magic is an act that conjures something out of nothing, and cannot be defined by religion or science. “Practicality and magic are two of my favorite modes,” Ellen states, plainly, explaining that she doesn’t waste time or fuck around when it comes to the fervent and alchemical surprises of paint.

Kristin Farr: What are you working on right now?

Ellen Berkenblit: A painting on calico. I stitch together fabric with different patterns and colors. It’s like a spontaneous drawing with fabric, but resembles a quilt. It gets stretched and prepped for oil paint, and then it’s a whole new puzzle that is familiar but looks quite different as a canvas. I prepare a lot of them at once, and start visually figuring out some sort of puzzle. I have no predetermined approach to any of the canvases, calico or linen, I just go ahead.

Sewing is a nice balance to painting

They are very interchangeable somehow in my mind. I was a seamstress for my job for many years, and I get lost in sewing and painting in a similar way. It’s another way of drawing with fabric and color.