Redtree Times

Solitude and Reverence

Perhaps the primary distinction of the artist is that he must actively cultivate that state which most men, necessarily, must avoid: the state of being alone. That all men are, when the chips are down, alone, is a banality — a banality because it is very frequently stated, but very rarely, on the evidence, believed. Most of us are not compelled to linger with the knowledge of our aloneness, for it is a knowledge that can paralyze all action in this world. There are, forever, swamps to be drained, cities to be created, mines to be exploited, children to be fed. None of these things can be done alone. But the conquest of the physical world is not man’s only duty. He is also enjoined to conquer the great wilderness of himself. The precise role of the artist, then, is to illuminate that darkness, blaze roads through that vast forest, so that we will not, in all our doing, lose sight of its purpose, which is, after all, to make the world a more human dwelling place.

–James Baldwin, The Creative Process (1962)

I’ve been looking quite often recently at the painting at the top which is here with me in the studio. It’s from about ten years ago and is titled Solitude and Reverence. It was an instant favorite for me when I finished back in 2015 so when it returned to me after its tours of the galleries, while I was surprised it had come back, I was pleased to have it back with me. I believe it’s a piece that says a lot about me and my work and the role solitude has played in it.

This morning, coming across an image of this painting used on the blog several years ago reminded me of a couple of things that I have shared over the years on the role of solitude and being alone for the artist. One is the passage at the top from a 1962 essay from James Baldwin and the other is below, from an early (2008!) blogpost where I wrote about advice I gave to young wannabe artists. I thought both worked well with this painting. At the bottom I am adding a song from Billie Holiday, at the peak of her powers, on the same subject. The song is Solitude from her 1952 album of the same name. Just a beautiful recording.

I’m showing the picture to the right to illustrate a bit of advice I often give when speaking with students or aspiring painters. This is my first studio which is located up a slight hill behind our home, nestled in among a mixed forest of hardwoods and white pine. This photo was from last February [2007]. It was a fine little space although it lacked certain amenities such as running water, bathrooms and truly sufficient heat. However, it served me very well for about a decade.

The advice that I give to aspiring artists is this:  Learn to be alone.

The time spent in solitude may be the greatest challenge that many artists face. I have talked to many over the years and it is a common concern. Some never fully commit to their art for just this reason. To be alone with your own thoughts without the feedback or interaction of others can be scary especially for those used to being immersed in people and conversation.

I like to think that I have been prepared for this aspect of this career since I was a child. For much of my youth we lived in the country, in houses that were isolated from neighbors. I had a sister and brother, 8 and 7 years my senior, and they were often my companions at times. But as they came into their middle teens, I spent more and more time alone. This is not a complaint in any sense. Actually, it was kind of idyllic. I lived a fairly independent life as a kid, pretty much coming and going as I pleased. I explored the hills and woods around us, going down old trails to the railroad tracks and old cove that ran alongside the Chemung River. I studied the headstones at an old cemetery tucked in the edge of the woods overlooking what was then a thick glen, filled with the family who resided at a late 1700’s homesite that had stood across the road from our home. All that remained of that place was a stacked stone chimney which served as a great prop for playing cowboy.

In the woods there were immense downed trees that served as magnificent pirate ships. There were large hemlocks with thick horizontal branches that were practically ladders, easy to climb and sit above the forest floor to watch and dream.

My life– and my work– would be very different without this time alone. Sure, maybe I’d be a bit more sociable and comfortable with groups of people, something which is sometimes a hindrance. But it prepared me for the time I spend alone and allowed me to create my own inner world that I occupied then and now. The same world that appears in my work, the same world that is my work.

This is only a short post on a subject I could drone on about for pages and pages. But, to aspiring artists, I say learn to love your time alone. Realize what a luxury and an asset it can be to you as an artist. It is gift that is available to us all if we only recognize and accept it as such. Learning to be alone will make your work grow and distinguish itself in ways you can’t yet see.