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Bruegel

Real busy this morning with show prep for my Principle Gallery show. I deliver the show in a mere two weeks and I am at that point in the process where there is so much going on that it seems impossible that it will all come together. Paintings are still getting their final touches and being photographed, frames are being stained, matting being cut and so on.  

I thought that for this morning I would replay a post from back in 2009 about one of my favorite artists, Pieter Bruegel (1525-1569),  with the addition of a video featuring more of his work added at the bottom of the page. Take a look and enjoy the images.

Pieter Bruegel- Tower of BabelI am totally in awe of the work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder, the patriarch of the great Flemish family of painters.  There are so many paintings of his that I could show that would be equal to those I chose for this post but I find these particular pieces striking.  There is great richness and depth as well as a tremendous warmth in his colors.  I always feel enveloped in his paintings as though they wrap around me like a blanket, particularly his peasant pieces.brueghel_hunters in the snow

This piece above  depicting the Tower of Babel has always excited my imagination beyond the actual biblical story.  I’m always reminded of the Gormenghast Trilogy from Mervyn Peake when I see this image and wonder if it had any influence when he was formulating the story for his novels.  The scale of the building and the way it dominates the composition is breathtaking.
The Fall of the Rebel Angels

His earlier allegorical works seem to have been heavily influenced by Hieronymous Bosch and have incredible energy.  He had an ability to take multitudes of forms and scenarios and bring them together in a way that had great rhythm, lending almost an abstract quality to the overall scene.  I find these paintings quite beautiful despite their sometimes jolting imagery.Pieter_Brueghel_The_Triumpf_of_Death

I could look at his work for hours and even writing this short post is taking a long time because I just want to stop and look at his work.  I find it truly inspiring and wonder how it will find its way into my own work someday.  Somehow.  Maybe…brueghel fall of icarus

Why?


Just about every day– and on some of those days it seems like’s it’s every hour– we are bombarded by breaking stories from the White House that are so out of the norm and so outrageous that I find myself literally holding my head.

It is like an unending scene in a bad dream where you can see that something wrong or bad is happening and even though you try pointing it out, nobody wants to listen and treats the situation as though it were totally normal. It’s scary in a Kafkaesque way.

I am still confounded by those who continue to defend the actions of this administration. The evidence that exposes this president’s actions and motives seem more and more apparent with each manic day. I know that we all have certain biases that shape how we interpret incoming data but the continued support (although it is at about historically low levels for any president) that is still on display in some quarters just baffles me.

Stephen Fry, who I have enjoyed as an actor and a wit for many years now, narrates an interesting short film that attempts to explain it.  I am not sure it would change the minds of those who view rational thought, knowledge, and sound reasoning as some sort of evil elitist conspiracy. But there are some neat charts that even a pinhead can understand.

I did.

For example, here’s a chart that shows how much the US spends on defense. It exceeds the defense budgets of the next 7 largest countries–combined! And this administration wants to increase it by 10% which is almost equals the entire defense budget  for Russia.  In fact, it would actually be more than their dense budget because they are cutting their defense budget by 25% according to numerous outlets.

Take a look at the film.

Seeking Truth

Seeking what is true is not seeking what is desirable. 

Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays

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This is another new painting that is headed to the Principle Gallery for my solo show that opens on June 2. The name I chose for this show is Truth and Belief, two concepts that often, especially in this past year of confusion, get jumbled up in our minds

At least, that’s what I believe. It might be true. Or not.

You see, that’s the thing.  We often claim to want to know the truth but what we want is validation. We want a truth that confirms what we already believe to be true.

Unfortunately, that is not always the case.

And in the face of a truth that contradicts their beliefs, some will hang onto their misguided belief with even greater tenacity.  They view the truth at this point as an adversary, something to be overcome or at least pushed aside to make room for their belief.

But truth is always there, like it or not.  It will at some point come into view for all to see, believers and non-believers alike.

And that’s what I see in this piece.  The path going into the picture separates with one branch heading into the forest  where the view will be limited by the trees and the terrain. The other branch follows a route that takes it to a higher point where the view is unobstructed. The truth of that time and place is clear and undeniable despite what one might believe.

Now a disclaimer: I don’t know if any of this is actually true.  But I do believe it to be so. As much as it can be for a schlub sitting in the woods in front of a computer at 6 in the morning. Once I climb to a better vantage point I might think otherwise.

This piece is titled Seeking Truth and is 12″ by 12″ on canvas.

Conquer the angry one by not getting angry; conquer the wicked by goodness; conquer the stingy by generosity, and the liar by speaking the truth.

Gautama Buddha, The Dhammapada

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Looking at this new painting, a 12″ by 12″ canvas, I didn’t have to spend a lot of time trying to interpret it as its message comes through clearly for me.

The title, The Radiant Heart, had come pretty quickly from the radiating fields and the sunlight along with the deep red of the heart-like mound on which the house is located. In my mind, these things symbolized a generosity of spirit and a willingness to reach out to others with honesty and goodwill. Much like the qualities in the words of the Buddha shown above.

They are seemingly simple qualities that most people would no doubt assume apply to themselves.

But in the bright light of reality how many of us can say we truly live up to those qualities– goodness, generosity, truthfulness, and placidity?

I can say that I aspire to them and  hope to arrive at a time when I can claim all four as being truly part of who I am.  But I have often come up well short on all four accounts.  I have been less than good with my behavior and my intentions. I have been stingy and greedy.  I have lied and deceived. I have been angry and vengeful.

And that was just yesterday. God only knows what today will bring.

But, seriously, the only transcendent moments in my life have come when  I have been freed from those negatives, cut loose from greed, anger, and dishonesty. So, I must try to keep reaching that point where those better aspects are normal and always at hand.  It’s hard, especially in these times when we witness so much anger, so much avarice, so much outright dishonesty and lying, and so little compassion or empathy. It’s hardest to maintain composure and not explode in anger in reaction to these horrible, shameful actions you see taking place on a daily basis.

But perhaps the sheer difficulty of maintaining high aspirations in these days make it even more important that it be done. Because if we don’t get closer to a point where those better qualities guide us, then we will be living in a world unfit for and hostile to most of us.

And that’s not a world I can tolerate.

A lot of words for a small painting, huh?

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This painting is part of my upcoming solo exhibit at the Principle Gallery, “Truth and Belief,” which opens June 2 at the Alexandria gallery.

 

Today and the next several days ahead are busy for me as I do prep work for the June 2 opening  of my solo show at the Principle Gallery. Even though it’s really hectic it’s not a disorienting kind of chaos. I’ve done this so many times that I understand the rhythm and timing that is required for these preparations.

That knowledge takes care of some of the anxiety but certainly not all of it. Every show has a level of trepidation as you worry about how it will be received. That particular anxiety will never go away and is actually, at least for me, kind of reassuring.  I tend to think that when I stop feeling that tension before a show I will have become complacent.

So, I am currently busy, anxious and worried. In other words, things are going about as good as can be expected.

I thought I’d share a nice video I found of the work of Van Gogh set to Don McLean‘s lovely ode to the artist, Vincent. It’s a very pleasant combination for a bustling Monday morning and definitely eases the nerves.

Sunday morning and I just want to hear some music, something that will make me think, maybe move me a bit. I didn’t know what I was really looking for when I came across this John Prine song from his 2005 album,  Fair and Square. Even though I say it’s his song it was actually written by songwriter R. B. Morris. John Prine just sang it in that way he has that can either make you laugh or cry depending on the song.

This is one that doesn’t make you laugh. It might not make you cry but it will make you think a little bit and no doubt recognize yourself or someone you know in the lyrics of the song. The first verse dragged me in. Here’s That’s How Every Empire Falls. The lyrics are below.

Have yourself a good Sunday.

 
Caught a train from Alexandria
Just a broken man in flight
Running scared with his devils
Saying prayers all through the night
Oh but mercy can’t find him
Not in the shadows where he calls
Forsaking all his better angels
That’s how every empire falls

The bells ring out on Sunday morning
Like echoes from another time
All our innocence and yearning
and sense of wonder left behind
Oh gentle hearts remember
What was that story? Is it lost?
For when religion loses vision
That’s how every empire falls.

He toasts his wife and all his family
The providence he brought to bear
They raise their glasses in his honor
Although this union they don’t share
A man who lives among them
Was still a stranger to them all
For when the heart is never open
That’s how every empire falls

Padlock the door and board the windows
Put the people in the street
“It’s just my job,” he says “I’m sorry.”
And draws a check, goes home to eat
But at night he tells his woman
“I know I hide behind the laws.”
She says, “You’re only taking orders.”
That’s how every empire falls.

A bitter wind blows through the country
A hard rain falls on the sea
If terror comes without a warning
There must be something we don’t see
What fire begets this fire?
Like torches thrown into the straw
If no one asks, then no one answers
That’s how every empire falls.

Mad World

Watching the video the other day of the Rose Garden hullabaloo with the faces of the wealthy and predominantly white men all gleefully gloating the mere passage of a House bill that has the potential to do far more harm than good made me angry and ashamed for this country.  To see them so wildly exulting something that does nothing to address the very real problems that exist in the availability and delivery of healthcare to our citizens is an abomination. They shift around some money to the advantage of those already well endowed and they celebrate like they personally defeated an alien force hellbent on overthrowing the Earth.

What drives these people? I am sure that if asked, they would spew the requisite “they’re there to serve the people“nonsense. But they seem to believe, if their actions are evidence of any sort, that the people they must serve the most are the people who need their assistance the least.

Do these men in congress really know the true extent and face of poverty or is it just an abstract notion, anonymous and in the distance? Personally, I believe they should be speaking for those who cannot speak for themselves, that they should be acting in order to lift those in need. Instead, they seem quite content in enriching their own bank accounts and those of their cronies while they do little, if anything, for the greater good.

Maybe they should take a few minutes and look at some of the photos of Lewis Hine, the photo-journalist and social activist.  His powerful photos taken around the turn of the century brought to light the plight of working children and spurred on the union movement that brought about great reforms for workers across the nation. Perhaps if they studied the faces of the children in these photos, they would get a better understanding of what should be their own purpose in their positions of responsibility. Those faces can still be found today, if they would only take the time to look.

Here’s a nice slideshow of some of Hine’s photos set to the Gary Jules version of the Tears For Fears song, Mad World.

Tonight, the West End Gallery celebrates its 40th anniversary of selling art on Corning’s lovely Market Street. There is a coinciding opening for a retrospective show of the paintings of the gallery’s co-founder, Tom Gardner. The festivities begin at 4:30 this afternoon with a ribbon cutting and following that there will be music from guitarist Bill Groome, plenty to eat and drink and a few surprises.

I’ve said and written this many times before, but without the West End Gallery I have no idea what or where I would be. The chance to show my work given to me by then gallery owners Lin and Tom Gardner forever changed the direction of my life, opening new doors of opportunity that I couldn’t even imagine in my former life. Ultimately, it changed how I viewed the world and myself.

It’s rare that you can pinpoint a moment in time that alters your life in such a drastic manner that you can see the results that extend from that moment a la It’s a Wonderful Life. But I have such a moment from a day in early 1995 when Tom critiqued my work and Lin asked me to show a few pieces in their next show. Without that moment with them, every good thing that has come to me via my work most likely would have never happened. The numerous paintings that have found their way around the world, the 50 or so solo shows and the many, many wonderful people I have been fortunate to encounter through my work– all of it would probably have never occurred.

I don’t want to even consider what would be without that moment.

In my own way, I say “Thank You” to them every day I enter my studio and take part in the life and work that I so enjoy now. It is all due to that moment and I will never forget that.  Nor will I ever be able to thank them enough.

For forty years, the West End Gallery has given me and so many other artists an opportunity to take a chance on a different life.  It has persisted through the ups and downs of the economy, through booms and busts.  Now under the capable hands of Tom and Lin’s daughter Jesse and her husband, John, it is looking forward even as it celebrates its past tonight. They are working hard every day to make the gallery better in every way.

I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s another 40 years in the cards for the West End Gallery.

So, if you’re in the area tonight, make your way to the West End Gallery for a celebratory drink, a little bite, some great conversation and some wonderful art and music. If you’ve never been, they’ll make you feel right at home.

I can tell you that from first-hand experience.

Thank you for everything, Lin and Tom and Jesse and John.

I mean that literally.

The Invocation

The world is little, people are little, human life is little. There is only one big thing — desire.

Willa Cather, The Song of the Lark

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This is a new painting that is part of my upcoming June show, Truth and Belief,  at the Principle Gallery in Alexandria. This is a 36″ by 24″ canvas that I am calling The Invocation.

Part of me feels as though this is a painting where I should write more about it.  But another part of me feels that this is a piece that deserves the quiet that allows others to see what they will in it. It has the feel of a piece that could hold many meanings for different people.

I will try to keep my own views brief with the hope that they won’t taint the perspective of others.

This painting has, for me, a definite feeling of long held desires and the sending out of wishes and prayers for their fulfillment. Maybe it’s the angel-like shape created by the negative space of the river and sky, much like the piece that I wrote about last month, Flight of Angels. The bridge here serves as a golden belt for the angel and the light around the shape of the moon creates a halo-like effect. The Red Tree seems to be poised on the shoulder of this angel, whispering its deepest desires in its ear.

This wasn’t painted with this symbolism in mind.  I knew I wanted a river with a bridge in this piece and the bridge was the first thing painted. But it wasn’t placed with the idea that it would represent a belt for an angel.  It was located at a point where I thought it felt right and would simply set the composition into motion. From there, the painting kind of grew organically. The final composition set tone for the  blue and purple color palette.

I’m really enjoying this painting in the studio and am finding new things each day that I didn’t see while painting it. That gives me real satisfaction. Whether that means anything beyond the walls of my studio, well, that’s another thing.

I thought I’d replay this post from back in 2011 about a little piece that is one of my personal favorites.

I came across this little piece that I had painted long ago, before I ever showed my work to anyone.  It’s a tiny little thing, barely 2″ by 3″ in size, but it’s a painting that I consider one of my favorites.  It’s not because of anything in the painting itself, although I do like the way it works visually with its simple forms and tones.  Actually, it’s because I see an entire narrative in this piece and it always comes back as soon as I see it, even after many years.

I call this Guenther Hears the Boogaloo Softly.  The story I see here is a German soldier on patrol in the second World War, in a wintry forest,  perhaps in the Ardennes during the Battle of the Bulge.  He is separated from his group and as he is alone in the forest he suddenly hears a sound from deep in the woods, echoing softly through the frozen trees.  It is a piano and it is like nothing he has heard before.  It has a loping bassline that churns and pops and over it is a tap dance of notes that bounce and roll on the rhythm.  It’s American boogie woogie.  Somewhere unseen in the forest a piano is rolling out that boogie woogie beat.

Guenther is transfixed and holds his breath to better hear the music that enchants him. A siren’s song.  He loses all thought of his mission and his duty.  He is engrossed by the music.

I don’t go any further with this scenario in my mind.  There are obvious directions the story could take.  Guenther might allow the music to transfix him to the point he doesn’t hear the American patrol coming upon him.  Or he might throw down his weapon and flee.  But most likely, he would return to his patrol and  if he were lucky enough to survive the war, the memory of that music would haunt him for years, sending him on a search to recapture the sound of that moment in the forest.

I see it simply as a being about the transformative power of music and art, about how they unify humans despite our differences.  When we hear or see something, we don’t do so as a German or an American, as a democrat or a republican, as a Christian or a Muslim.  We react as a human to our individual perceptions.  Sometimes we cannot shake these other labels we carry with us but there are moments when our reaction is pure.  Which is what I see in this little bit of paint and paper, in Guenther’s reaction to the piano.

Such a little bit of paint yet such a lot to say…

Afternote: There is a certain irony that the boogie woogie sound is largely kept alive by Europeans now with people such as Axel Zwingenberger and Silvan Zingg, a  pianist known as the Ambassador of Boogie Woogie  who hosts a boogie woogie festival in his native Switzerland each year. But here’s a little taste of boogie woogie from the late pianist Dorothy Donegan (1922-1998) as she performs Hallelujah Boogie Woogie. In her 70’s, she’s having a good time and putting on a real show.