As I wrote a few weeks back, I’m in the middle of my process where I spend some time both looking backward and forward through my work, looking at pieces from the past for bits of inspiration that might lead to some new synthesis of the original creative driver. In doing so I sometime come across paintings that are unlike anything that was done in the time period around them, paintings that stand out in sharp contrast. This is one such piece, called In the Shadow. a 9″ by 12″ sepia painting from six or seven years back.
As I scanned through my files, mostly quiet and placid pieces with warm colors and calming compositions, I came across this dark piece that seemed so out of place. Nothing before it in that year showed any evidence of this piece’s coming. And nothing after it showed any signs of its influence. It was a complete anomaly for its time.
I showed it a few times but it never sold which did not surprise me at all. It wasn’t that I didn’t think it was a good piece because I did think it had a unique quality that made it good. I often use good to describe my work, meaning that it has a complete feel, a life all its own, and this painting had it. But I wasn’t surprised at the lack of interest because of the quality but because it was too personal, too reflective of my own angst. I knew at the time that it was only meant for me because of this.
Most of my work deals with alleviating the angst that is often consuming for me. It is all about escaping that shadow and bringing light. I have often said that my work is not a reflection of who I really am but is instead a goal of who I want to be. It is aspirational work. This, on the other hand, was not filled with hope but was instead a snapshot of the reality of the moment for me.
It was personal and too narrow in its meaning to easily connect with those who see the better parts of themselves in my work. I understood that from the moment I created this piece. But I felt that I had to show it just to be honest about my own reality, my own journey. We are all prismatic figures that only show certain facets to the outside world at any given time and I wanted to let people see this often hidden facet just to let them know that it is there. Perhaps one day, it will fade from the light of the other, more hopeful facets.
But it is there and every now and then it shows itself just to remind me from where I came. But not where I am going.
I’ve been going through some books on my shelves that I haven’t looked at for some time and came across a smallish book on the work of Richard Lindner, who was a German born (1901) painter who moved to New York during World War II. He taught at the Pratt Institute then later at Yale before his death in 1978.
guided the hand of the film’s artist who most people think was Peter Max. However, the artist was Heinz Edelman . This misconception probably shows Lindner’s influence on Max as well. I also can see Lindner in some of Terry Gilliam‘s animations for Monty Python. The Beatles paid tribute to Lindner by inserting his image in the group of figures on the cover of their classic Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album. He’s between Laurel and Hardy in the second row.
One of my favorites is shown to the left here, FBI On East 69th Street. I have no idea whether he was influenced by Lindner’s work (although I wouldn’t be surprised), but when I look at this painting I can only think of David Bowie, especially in the early 70’s in the Glam era. Again, the strength of the color and shape,s as well as how his figures fill the picture frame, excite me. How I might take this excitement and make it work within my own work is something that remains to be seen. It may not be discernible but seeing work that makes your own internal wheels spin will show up in some manner. We’ll have to see if this comes through in the near future.
I’ve been hobbled a bit over the last couple of weeks by a pinched nerve in my neck that has made any work (or sleep) almost impossible to accomplish. Hopefully, it will soon fade and I will be working feverishly again. But while it has kept me from work, it has not prevented me from thinking back on 2012 and what it meant for my work. It was truly a great year for it, one that will be hard to replicate.
Redtree Times 