Yesterday’s Gallery Talk at the Kada Gallery went really well. Many,many, many thanks to Kathy, Joe and Morgan at the gallery for providing a comfortable setting and the many folks in attendance for taking time out on a rare sunny Saturday afternoon to spend it with me. They were an absolutely wonderful group –attentive and inquisitive–which made my task much easier, making me feel very welcomed and at ease in front of them.
Hopefully not so much that I over-talked or came across as too full of myself. I always worry about things like that on the ride back home, agonizing over things I said or didn’t say. It comes easy because at that point I am pretty tired of hearing my own voice, tired of pretty much being the public me at that moment.
One thing I forgot to mention which bothered me as I was on my way home was that it was the input that I get from the encouragement and stories shared by the folks that attend these events are such a huge inspiration and the motor that drives my work. I work untold hours alone in my studio and it is their reaction to the work and the fact that they allow me to glimpse briefly into their lives that make them seem almost present at times in my studio. Distant eyes looking over my shoulder.
I shared one recent inspirational story that took place very recently right there at the Kada Gallery. A week or so ago, they received an email inquiry from a lady in Switzerland about a large painting, titled Family Lines with the Red Tree with a Red Chair in its branches. It turns out that she had recently lost her husband to Alzheimer’s and one of their final exchanges was about that very painting, obviously seeing it in online. Her husband said that he was the Red Tree and she was the Red Chair. I have to admit to being made teary-eyed by that. How can something like not stick with me, not find its way into my thoughts when I am alone in the studio?
That story, like so many others shared with me over the years, brings a sense of purpose to the sometimes abstract and introverted act of painting. I can never fully thank these people for the gift in their sharing.
One of the ways I do try thank folks at these talks is by having several giveaways, including an original painting. We had a very good time with it yesterday and the group was so receptive that I thought they deserved another. I had a painting, Color Rising, from a few years back that won by a young lady in her 90’s which leads me to this week’s Sunday music selection. The painting, shown left, was a monochromatic piece, shades of back and gray with just a dash of color. I explained that I do these paintings periodically to just more less refresh my color palette in the period between working on shows and that seeing one of my compositions with the color removed was a bit like hearing a song that you’ve heard a thousand times before done by one person done by somebody else. The song has the same notes, chords, melody and lyrics but it is somehow different, somehow changed.
That brings me to this musical example, a version of the Beatles‘ song In My Life from 1965‘s Rubber Soul album. My god, I can’t believe this song is fifty years old! This version is from the American recordings of Johnny Cash, done in the final months of his life. His age and ailments changed his delivery and imbued the songs with real heart-felt emotion and purity. A powerful group of music. This version of the Beatles’ song is not so different but it has his own personal meaning which makes it his own.
Again, so many thanks to everyone who came yesterday. It was my great pleasure to spend the day with you all. Hope your Sunday is a good one…