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Archive for the ‘Favorite Things’ Category

I wrote yesterday, in a sanguine manner, of not making resolutions for myself.  But this morning, still under the weather, I have decided to contradict myself.  I will maker a resolution, dammit.  Why not?  So for this year I resolve to read all of the Roald Dahl books that I missed as a kid.  I don’t know how I didn’t come across them in my rabid reading days as a child.  I would have loved them, I’m sure, with their dark humor and their sense of ethereal justice.  I mean who didn’t feel a little better when Veruca Salt got hers at Willy Wonka’s factory?

I decided on this resolution after recently viewing the film version of The Fantastic Mr. Fox, a stop-motion animation from director Wes Anderson who made one of my favorite films, Rushmore, as well as a handful of  other quirky, funny, bittersweet films.  His debut film, Bottle Rocket, is a little known charmer.

I don’t ususally like to suggest films for anyone because, like any artform, it is  highly subjective.  I like what I like and you like what you like based on a whole series of personal preferences and opinions and often that which triggers my emotions may seem silly or shallow to you.  But I highly recommend The Fantastic Mr. Fox.  It is smart and funny and just a lovely film.

So, there.  Anyway, I am off to search for more of Mr. Dahl’s work.

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Yesterday, after finally getting back in the studio after running errands, I flipped on the tube and caught the end of the classic John Ford film The Searchers.  On the day that the Coen Brothers’ remake of True Grit opened, it was fitting that they were showing what is probably John Wayne’s finest performance, as the damaged and hate-filled hero Ethan Edwards.  Beautifully shot film with layers and layers of content. 

 The reason I mention this this morning is the image shown here, the final shot of the film.  Ethan has finished his quest to find and retrieve his kidnapped niece and has deposited her with what remains of her family.  He stands apart, the darkness of the interior walls forming a frame that highlights his alienation and isolation.  He is a living ghost.

It is an image that never fails to move me, bringing forward a strong emotional reaction to it, even if only seeing it in a passing clip for a mere second or two. It captures perfectly the tenor and content of the whole story in a single iconic image.  Ethan holds his damaged arm representing his emotional scars as well and he slowly turns and walks away towards the desert as the door shuts behind, bringing the story to an end in darkness.  Just perfect.

I remember seeing a documentary on John Ford that equated his filmmaking to painting in that he looked at the compositions with a painter’s eye, letting the background become part of the storytelling process.  You can see it in most of his films.  There are shots that are so beautifully composed that they evoke an immediate emotional response.  What you hope for as a painter. 

Even now as I sit here writing this, my eye wanders up that image and I am struck by it.  I will probably have that image with me for the rest of the day, at least.  That is powerful.

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I was looking earlier online for a video of the song Blue Christmas to accompany this little painting that I have used as a Christmas card in the past.  I wanted something other than Elvis’ version, which is the standard by which all other versions are judged.  I was amazed at how many different people have covered the song.  There are rock versions , big band and country versions from dozens and dozens of various artists from every segment of the musical spectrum that all seem to pay homage to Elvis’ particular take on the song.  There are different instrumental versions including a charming version on the harp played by a teen who is lamenting the loss of her homeschool teacher, versions from various handbell groups (I particularly liked the one from the Trinity University) and one on the ukulele from one of my favorites, the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britiain.

It is an amzing array of sounds and styles that cover this beloved holiday song.  But I found one video entitled Blue Christmas that is another song altogether.  It’s features the trumpet of Miles Davis and the sax of Wayne Shorter and is even bluer in tone than the songs above.  Maybe it’s the odd little animation that accompanies it that gives it even a glummer feel for the holiday.  But it swings.

Take a look-

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I love this site that I’ve recently come across.  Called Square America, it is a site dedicated to preserving vintage photos from the first 3/4 of the 20th century.  Not art photography but everyday family photos, police photos and other vernacular photos of the time.  These photos give a beautiful narrative to life in America during this time and are really engrossing.  I could spend hours just browsing through the many galleries.

There are many, many great galleries of photos coveing a multitude of subjects, some that contain police mugshots, photos that chronicle  television coverage of JFK’s funeral (actual pictures of a TV!) and, my favorite, the ones that have photobooth pictures that play as a slide show to give the effect of moving pictures.  If you click on the photo above you will see a great example as the young girl ages through the pictures until she is well into middle age. 

The creator of this site is Nicholas Osborn who also has a book of these photos that he compiled in collaboration with photographers Michael Williams and Richard Cahan, called Who We Were.  It looks like a great, albeit late, gift for those who love such things as Americana and how we lived in the last century.

If you can find a few minutes to just browse a bit, check out this site.  There is definitely something for everyone.  Here’s a beautiful Christmas memory from their site.  I think it might have been inspired by the poor little tree from A Charlie Brown Christmas.

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This is another from the Exiles series of 1995, one that is called The Writing’s on the Wall.  It’s the smallest of the Exiles series at a mere 4″ by 6″.  But, for me, the size does not diminish the potency of this piece. 

Painted at the time of my mother’s death from cancer in 1995, it’s about the resignation  that comes from seeing the life of one you love about to end.  The hope for recovery has passed and an end seems imminent, leaving you somewhat empty.  The world around you moves ahead and you are left struggling to regain the pace, not wanting to for fear that leaving the past behind will mean that you’ve left that person behind as well.  It’s a daunting moment that actually lasts for weeks and months.  Maybe years.

As I painted this piece and the face began to take shape, the intent was to have an expansive landscape in the background.  But the circumstances at the time began to make clear the inevitable was coming and the landscape closed inward, walled in.  I mostly seek ambiguity in the message for my work but here I wanted to be unequivocal with the message from this piece and opted for the graffiti that stated it clearly.  For me, this piece meant only one thing and I didn’t want it to read any other way, at least for myself.

I can’t say that this is a good painting, can’t compare it objectively with other work.  The feeling for me is to close to the bone here and makes such comparisons moot.  It is what it is and that is what I want it to be.

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I’ve always been a big fan of Tennessee Ernie Ford, who died in 1991.  I saw him quite a bit on the television of the 1960’s and in reruns from the 50’s.  He was always extremely funny in the persona he adopted onstage as a hillbilly caricature and it was always startling when he would shift from that higher pitched bumpus voice into his singing voice was as smooth and deep and rich as one can imagine. I picked up a box set of his music several years ago and find myself listening to it for long periods of time.  It may not be hip.  It may not be cool.  But there’s something incredibly authentic in his voice and the personality he projected that I really am drawn to.

Here’s a nice version of one of my favorite songs, Wayfarin’ Stranger, which is also the title of the painting shown here, one from around 2004 in the Red Roof series.  Enjoy and have a good Sunday.

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Hard to Believe

It’s hard to believe it’s been thirty years since John Lennon was shot outside his home at the Dakota in Manhattan.  Amazing how time has fled and we remember Lennon as a still vibrant artist at age 40 rather than as a 70 year old, as he would be today.   It still seems shocking even after all these years.  I remember hearing of his shooting first from the lips of Howard Cosell as I watched Monday Night Football.  It was before the time of instant information, before the days of the internet and 24/7 news coverage, so you couldn’t simply flip to CNN and catch on the spot information.  All you had was Howard Cosell, who fortunately , being a very astute newsman, understood the gravity of the news he delivered.

Strange days, indeed.

I always carry the memory of John Lennon in his earlier incarnation as a Beatle, when he shared the mic with Paul as frontmen and was the wiseass with a quick comeback in  A Hard Day’s Night, which stands as a very fine film today.  It’s hard to get across to a younger generation  how vast the influence and reach of the Beatles was in the 60’s.  Early on, my sister was a big Beatles fan and had a copy of his book of scrawlings and verse, In His Own Write.  I loved to flip through the pages of this book, taking in his rough drawings and witty little ditties.  I wonder what became of that book?

So thirty years have come and gone since Lennon came and went and we’re left with a treasure trove of music that lives on.  I wanted to show a video and had a lot to choose from.  I first thought of Power to the People, a song which I can still hear in my memory coming from a tinny transistor radio speaker.  Or one of the songs from his final LP, such as Nobody Told Me.  But I settled on Instant Karma.  Maybe it was its chorus of “we all shine on… ”  that attracted me.  Seemed fitting.  Shine on, John.

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Trio

This piece hangs in a back bedroom in my studio that acts as a storage space of sorts.  It was done back in 2002 and has long been one my favorites.  A tryptych consisting of three 5″ squares in individual windows, it’s been shown a number of times in galleries but has never found a home, which is fine by me.  This is one of those examples where I find something more in a piece than the outside viewer.

I don’t know what it is in this piece that does whatever it does for me.  Perhaps it’s the harmony in the way the colors play together, creating a palpable vibration, which is what I immediately think of when I look at this work.  A vibration– something else I can’t fully explain.

I guess that’s what I like about this piece- the sense of satisfaction that it gives me with  no need for explanation.  It induces a primal reaction in me that goes beyond the need for words and explanation.

That being said, I will now shut up.

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I recently picked up a book, Andrew Wyeth: Autobiography, which is not really an autobiography but features over 130 of his pieces throughout his career along with short descriptions about them by the artist.  It’s quite a striking collection of images especially if you’re attracted to the Wyeth palette of  earthy browns and greys, as I am.

I have many favorites here  but perhaps the one I like best is this piece, Night Sleeper.  There’s a lot here to look at yet it maintains a quiet and  contemplative stillness that one associates with Wyeth’s work.  The two windows provide two separate examples of landscapes, the moonlit mill in one and the dam and millstream in the other,  that could be great paintings on their own.

  It’s all held together and anchored by the tee of the interior windows and the sleeping dog, an image I’m really drawn to.  There’s something about the posture and comfort that dogs adopt when sleeping that I find interesting, something that plays on a sense of reciprocity that I have with dogs, one where they watch out for me when they are  awake and I watch out for them when they are asleep.  Their sleep indicates a deep trust and a sense of security.

But the bit of this painting that makes the whole thing sing for me is the pale blue striping on the pillow or bag or whatever it is that the dog rests against.  That bit of color adds a whole layer of depth that would not be there otherwise and creates a beautiful harmony, echoing the moonlight that plays on the window frame on the right.  For me, it immediately brings to mind Henri Rousseau’s Sleeping Gypsy and its whole feeling.  They are very different paintings in many obvious ways but there is a ribbon of feeling that runs between them, in my mind at least.  I think this immediate visceral association adds a layer of appreciation of this painting for myself.  That little blue striping adds all the warmth of the Rousseau painting to my sense of this Wyeth painting.

In short, I think this painting is a peach.

Have a great Saturday.

Well,

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I’m on the road today, taking a group of work to the Principle Gallery in Alexandria.  So, I thought I’d play a song that ties together several different elements.  It’s a song that I referenced in yesterday’s post on Harry Nilsson, Don’t Forget Me.  It’s performed by one of my favorites, Neko Case, who has been featured here a number of times.  She covers this song on her most recent album but this is from Elvis Costello’s Spectacle television series.  She also hails from Alexandria.

So, give a listen and, like the songs says in such a wistful way, come on, get happy

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