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Archive for January, 2009

The Gathering LightThis is a painting that I finished yesterday while the inauguration of President Obama was unfolding on the television.  I am tentatively calling this piece The Gathering Light although I was considering something to commemorate the day.  I was thinking that the paint strokes in the sky represent the gathered populace yesterday in DC and the central figure, the Red Tree, represents President Obama.  Perhaps the fields and houses in the foreground represent the rest of the USA watching this event take place.   I guess even with that interpretation, the title The Gathering Light is fitting.  Yesterday was a gathering of light.

I consider this a painting in my Obsessionism category.  That really describes the state of mind that takes over me when I work on this type of painting.  There’s a degree of focus and immersion that is different than on other pieces.  Also, the way the piece unfolds before me is different.  It takes shape much quicker and more spontaneously.

This is a 30″ by 40″ canvas so it’s a pretty good size piece which makes the strong color really pop.  I am keeping this in the studio and constantly re-examining it  to make sure that it’s as strong as it can be.  I find that this extra time with the Obessionist pieces is invaluable because it takes me past the period of infatuation with the color and composition and allows me to develop a more objective view of the painting.  But for now, I am pleased with it…

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American Phoenix

The American PhoenixI wasn’t sure how today would feel.  There was the anticipation of the unknown, a bit of fear mixed with excitement.  There was also a bit of a feeling of  overkill, as though it were all too much.  Maybe it was the many people climbing on the wagon for perhaps the wrong reasons or without the needed conviction or maybe it was the endless coverage.  Whatever the case, it all made me warily aloof.

But when I flipped on CNN this morning at 6 and saw the incredible masses of people converging on the Mall in DC, I was truly moved.  There was a palpable sense of unity and purpose in the throngs of darkened  silhouettes moving through the early morning darkness, all bundled against the cold. Amazing…

As with any disaster, and the past eight years have been just that, the hardest  part is the recovery and staying focused on the task at hand, even when the going is rough.  That is President Obama‘s most important job– keeping this willing mass of citizens’ eyes steadfastly set on the goals he lays out in the next days and weeks.  He must make them feel as though they – wait, I mean we are part of the process, part of an answer.  If he can maintain this engagement with us, we will be just fine. 

No, that’s wrong.  We will be even better…

A final word of thanks to George W. Bush:  Without your callow, arrogant stewardship, without your dismissive “So What?” attitude, without your complete ignorance of what moves us as a citizenry, without your complete disregard for the rights and ideals that have defined us to  the rest of the  world, without your kowtowing to powerful cronies that created the wealth gap that has decimated our middle class, without your lead-headed  leadership- just without you, citizen Bush, this day would not have come.  Thank you for bitch-slapping us from our stupor.  Thank you for wakening our senses.  Thank you for giving us a definition of what we will not abide as a people.

Thank you, citizen Bush, we are awake now.  

Welcome, President Obama- the floor is yours.

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InvocationI’ve chose the painting to the left, Invocation, for  symbolic reasons.

Today is the last full day of the Bush reign.

For me, and many others, I feel as though we are emerging from a dark era, one that made us question our country’s ability to maintain the ideals we hold so high.

Justice. Fairness. Equality. Opportunity.

The common good.

Freedom.

This painting, to me, symbolizes the movement from darkness to light, the appearance of hope.  As we move forward  along the path, the tree symbolizes our prayers and hopes going out before us.

The invocation of light.  The expressed desire for  a better life, for ourselves and others.

Maybe it’s pie-in-the -sky.  But it feels so much better to have the smallest trace of hope and optimism rather than the cynicism and fear that have encompassed us for all too long.

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Sunday Morning Rumination

reserves-cover-blank-jpegSunday morning is usually an even quieter time for me.  It seems that memories from the past usually flood in on Sunday mornings, all triggered by a mere word or sound.  It seems most of these sense-related bits are from childhood when everything is soaked in and forged into memory.

For instance, there are Beatles’ songs that come on and I’m six years old again, living at the old house on Wilawanna Road.  The music is coming from our hi-fi console with sliding panels on top that expose the record player on one side and the other, the radio and controls.  The light wafting through the curtains over the large, old windows is from the spring and brightens the living room and its weathered floral wallpaper.  It’s a very secure feeling, the kind you hold onto from childhood.

On this Sunday morning, it’s about 8 degrees outside  (much warmer than yesterday’s -18 )  but it’s a little warmer when I hear this…

 

The painting from the top is a piece that was used as the cover for a CD by a northern Virginia based band, The Reserves, titled Where Have All The Dreamers Gone.

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Andrew Wyeth

Wyeth Trodden WeedAndrew Wyeth died yesterday.  Age 91.

Damn great artist.

I’m showing the piece to the right, Trodden Weed, because I always feel a sense of awe when I see it.  

The gorgeous color.  

The daring composition.  

It raises more questions in the viewer, both about the painting and the viewer himself, than it answers yet there is a sense of satisfaction.

Of completion.

Wyeth Christina's WorldAndrew Wyeth was not the darling of art critics and I think there’s a simple reason for this:

His work didn’t need them.

His work transcended the need for their explanation and validation, translating at once to the viewer.  

There was no warming up to his work, no need to try to feel his message.  It was immediate and powerful.andrew-wyeth

And to someone who is considered the arbiter of taste, this could only be the work of sentimentalism.  This bias would not allow themselves the effort to truly see the work’s beauty and power.  It’s graceful simplicity.

Well, that’s their loss.  Screw them and thank you for all you gave us, Mr Wyeth.

Wyeth Master Bedroom

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A Hard Past

A Hard PastThis is a painting from a couple of years ago, titled  A Hard Past, part of the Outlaws series.  I have been hesitant to write about this piece even though it remains a personal favorite.  I use it as the wallpaper on my office computer and am always transfixed by this face.

It actually reminds me very much of my mother.  I know that may not seem a very flattering thing to say but there is something in the hardened distant gaze that reminds me of Mom, sitting silently at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and her ever present Camel.  She would just sit there in silence for long periods of time and I often wonder what thoughts and memories ran through her mind. 

The title came from this memory of her.  She had a pretty hard life- her mother died when she was three,  no school beyond ninth grade, years of toiling in a factory and a long, turbulent and angry marriage to my father.  I could go into detail but I don’t think she would like it, if she were still around.  She liked privacy and preferred to be away from other people, a trait that I carry as well.

I could go on but I just wanted to show this piece again.  I do think Mom would be okay with that…

Speaking of the Outlaws series, here’s a short video I put together with the paintings from that series along with some from many years earlier.  The music is from Bill Frisell

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Gutterballs

Faust's GuitarI’ve mentioned before that I often have movies playing in the studio while I’m working, listening to the dialogue as I paint and occasionally looking up to take in the really visual aspects.  Some movies I have seen many times and know when to look up to catch something that really excites my eye. This is especially true of movies from the Coen Brothers.

The Big Lebowski is a favorite in the studio and I always have to stop and watch when the Dude enters the realm of fantasy.  I particularly enjoy Gutterballs with Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In) from Kenny Rogers and the First Edition as a backdrop.

It’s a great, lavish production and always makes me grin like an idiot.  

The Dude abides..

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The Race Track (Death on a Pale Horse)I have always been affected by the dark, moody compositions of the  the American painter Albert Pinkham Ryder, a somewhat under-appreciated  painter who worked in the late 1800’s/ early 1900’s, dying in 1917.

He is probably not as well known as he should be because of the manner in which he painted.  He had little regard for working in a fashion that would insure the longevity of his work and as a result, most of his pieces are heavily cracked and fragile.  Many have not survived.

AP Ryder Flying Dutchman
When I have seen his work in person I am always filled with a sense of excitement, as though I’ve stumbled upon a hidden treasure.  There’s also a feeling of knowing this person and feeling their essence.  It’s as though I feel something in my own being that parallels his in some way.  I hesitate to say this because I do not know in any fashion the man or his personality but that which I see in his work I truly identify with in some manner beyond appreciation.

AP Ryder Toilers of the Sea
I see real poetry and soul in his work, something I think which is lacking in much work.  I can’t describe how I see that– it’s more just a matter of sensing it.  To me, Ryder seems to be trying to communicate something vaporous and indefinable, something beyond the senses, something beyond words.  I identify with that endeavor and find inspiration in his work.

 

ryder_moonlight1

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Dedicated Follower of FashionThis is called Dedicated Follower of Fashion, based on the song of the same name from the mind of Ray Davies  and the Kinks.  

I call this one of the Exiles pieces but I’m not really sure if it truly fits.  It was done at the same time back in 1995 or ’96 and performed in the same manner but lacks the emotional depth of the others.  In fact, it’s defining feature is its lack of emotional content.  

I think that this blankness may have been the factor that led me to shape this piece into its final form.  The elements of the face were the first part completed and basically dictate, in the way I work, where the painting goes.  For instance, he could have been place on a vast and deep plain that sweeps to the distance behind him but that didn’t fit for me.

There was something in his oddly colored features that reminded me of the vanity and obsequiousness of many fashionistas. And that’s where the Kinks come in.

So, maybe he doesn’t quite fit in with the other Exiles but maybe that in itself makes him an exile of sorts.

Anyway, here are the Kinks doing the song…

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red-roof-2009-smaller2

Yesterday, I wrote about obsessionism, about immersing yourself in the work and feeling as though you’ve become part of the surface.  Everything moves in a natural, rhythmic fashion.  Intuitive, not thought out.  There’s a feeling of giddiness that goes along with this that I’ve described  before as a kind of intoxication.  This painting, I think, fits into this category as obsessionist.

This is the painting I wrote of last week when I wrote about my new work for this new year  (Differing Technique– January 5 post) and the similarities of it to my Red Roof series from several years back.  This is the larger piece I was working on at the time, a 24″ by 48″ birch panel.

I always feel exhilarated when I paint in this style, excited by the pop of color and the building of brushstrokes.  I spend a lot of time just looking at these pieces and feel really drawn into them. There is a great balance I feel in these paintings between stillness and power as though I were at the absolute center, the middle line dividing the two opposing poles that make up everything.  They are strong yet calm.

Again, I struggle with the words…

As with much of my work, the title for this piece has not yet come around and I want something bold and unique for this painting.  I think it deserves it.

I am open to suggestions or even an opinion on the painting…

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