Redtree Times

Haven of Spirit— Now at West End Gallery

Most people have forgotten nowadays what a home can mean, though some of us have come to realize it as never before. It is a kingdom of its own in the midst of the world, a stronghold amid life’s storms and stresses, a refuge, even a sanctuary.

—Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison, Wedding Sermon

I am busy getting ready this morning for the Gallery Talk that takes place this Saturday at the West End Gallery. Actually, I am just trying to figure out what I am going to say. Or not say. That is sometimes an important distinction. If you plan on being there and there’s something you want me to go over, let me know here or keep it in mind to ask at the talk. I can use all the help I can get.

As I try to do that, here’s a prior post for you to read about the theme of one of the smaller paintings in the show, an 8′ by 16″ piece titled Haven of Spirit.

Might as well have a theme today. Let’s go with home. I use the idea of finding and recognizing home in a lot of my work. I like how Bonhoeffer describes the idea of home in the last sentence above: a kingdom of its own in the midst of the world, a stronghold amid life’s storms and stresses, a refuge, even a sanctuary.

A safe haven.

Hopefully, most of us recognize some place or person that affords us that sense of the safety of home. It’s easy to look around and see too many people all around the world who struggle to hold onto that sense of home in the face of war and hatred. A simple place to call home along with the idea of not wanting to mess with others and to have yourself not be messed with does not seem like it should be a wild dream. But for all the usual reasons– envy, prejudice, greed, etc.– it is much too hard to realize for far too many.

I wish I had an answer. I guess the most obvious is to be kind to all others and treat all others as you yourself wish to be treated.

That’s the Golden Rule, right? Seems so simple. Should be easy.

Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to accomplish. Nobody wants to believe that such a simple sentiment can wield such power. We want something more complicated, something that allows the existence of our own prejudices and biases.

We’ll practice the Golden Rule so long as it’s to the right kind of people…

Sigh. Keep trying, folks. It doesn’t work if it’s not an all or nothing proposition.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer might sound familiar to regular readers. I featured him in a post several years ago, On Stupidity, that has been popular, consistently getting a number of views each week. He was the German pastor who spoke out against the Nazi regime throughout the 1930’s, later being sent to a concentration camp before being sent to his death on the gallows in the last days of the war. On Stupidity described the sort of blatant ignorance that led to the rise of the Nazis and seems to exist here today in forms. Bonhoeffer also coined the term Cheap Grace which describes those who claim the high ground of religion, believing that being “saved” wipes away all past transgressions and grants forgiveness– even permission– for all future sins. It is something that seems abundant these days among the evangelical set and the political right. It’s a post that is worth another look.

Okay, let’s wrap up this package. Here’s the song, Home, from Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros. Seems to be right in line with today’s theme. Plus, it has whistling. Love a good whistling song, don’t you?

Far Above It All– The Prize to be awarded at the West End Gallery Talk on Saturday.

In case you’re just stopping in here for the first time, I am giving a Gallery Talk this Saturday, August 10, at the West End Gallery in Corning, NY. The Talk starts at 11 AM. One of the traditional highlights of these talks is the awarding of a piece of my work to one lucky attendee. I give a lot of thought in choosing the painting to given away. I want it to be one that has meaning for me, not a failed experiment or one that just never fully came to life.

The painting I have chosen for Saturday’s Gallery Talk meets that standard pretty easily. Shown above, it is 24″ by 20″ on canvas and titled Far Above It All. It checks off a lot of the boxes for my work with its Red Trees with intertwined trunks, the Red Roofs, inward path, rolling hillocks, and orange sun/moon.

Yesterday, I said that this choice was a dilly. This morning, I am changing that to it being a real pip. I might even go so far as to call it a doozy. Whatever the case, I think it is a great choice for someone in attendance to take home with them on Saturday.

Below is what I wrote about this painting years ago:

I felt from the time this painting was complete that with its intertwining tree set apart from the village below that it was about some form of love. But what sort of love and how to describe it in words?

It seemed like a form of eternal love, one bound together through time, much like that in the myth of Baucis and Philemon that I have described here on several occasions. But I thought I would look to the words of someone else to perhaps give a new perspective on what I was seeing in this.

That brought me to the poems of Rupert Brooke, the British poet who was just in his ascension as a major poetic voice when he died at the age of 27 in 1915. He was in the British naval forces of WW I on the way to Gallipoli when he developed sepsis from an infected mosquito bite. He died soon after and was buried in an olive grove on the Greek island of Skyros.

An odd casualty of the war but still a casualty that deprived the world of what might have come from his hand.

The poem of Brooke’s that hit me the most fitting for this piece was one titled The Call, written when he was only about 20 years old. It has the intensity of youthful love, like a flaming torch held high. And that’s what I see in this painting. So, if you can tolerate poetry–and I know some can’t– give a read to the verses below from Rupert Brooke. It’s powerful and straightforward. And fitting, or so I think.

[2024] I have added a spoken word version below. The video’s creator used WW I imagery but this poem was written well before the war.

                      The Call

Out of the nothingness of sleep,
The slow dreams of Eternity,
There was a thunder on the deep:
I came, because you called to me.

I broke the Night’s primeval bars,
I dared the old abysmal curse,
And flashed through ranks of frightened stars
Suddenly on the universe!

The eternal silences were broken;
Hell became Heaven as I passed. —
What shall I give you as a token,
A sign that we have met, at last?

I’ll break and forge the stars anew,
Shatter the heavens with a song;
Immortal in my love for you,
Because I love you, very strong.

Your mouth shall mock the old and wise,
Your laugh shall fill the world with flame,
I’ll write upon the shrinking skies
The scarlet splendour of your name,

Till Heaven cracks, and Hell thereunder
Dies in her ultimate mad fire,
And darkness falls, with scornful thunder,
On dreams of men and men’s desire.

Then only in the empty spaces,
Death, walking very silently,
Shall fear the glory of our faces
Through all the dark infinity.

So, clothed about with perfect love,
   The eternal end shall find us one,
Alone above the Night, above
   The dust of the dead gods, alone.

            -Rupert Brooke

Serene Gratitude– At West End Gallery

There is no better excess in the world than the excess of gratitude.

–Jean de La Bruyère

I strongly agree with the sentiment above from the 17th century French philosopher Jean de La Bruyère. There is never enough gratitude in the world. Gratitude is, after all, as Cicero pointed out over 2000 years ago, the parent of all virtues. From it springs generosity and humility, patience and integrity, justice and tolerance. Serenity and peace.

And so much more.

It is expansive.

Gratitude creates space in the world– and in the hearts of those who embrace it– for greater appreciation and understanding.

I am mentioning this today to go along with the new painting at the top from my current West End Gallery exhibit. It is appropriately titled Serene Gratitude and is 36″ by 36″ on canvas. I see peace and serenity in the Red Tree here, as though it is grateful to see the new sunrise and the bounty of the landscape around it. I get a wonderful sense of tranquility and hopefulness from it.

I am talking about gratitude to let you know that I will announce the painting that I will be giving away at this coming Saturday’s Gallery Talk at the West End Gallery in tomorrow’s  blog. It’s a dilly (can’t remember the last time I used the word dilly) so make sure to come back tomorrow.

I have been asked a number of times over the years, especially by other artists, about why I sometimes give away my paintings. It doesn’t make sense to many people.

My rationale has long been that I am owed nothing in this world from anybody. Everything I have has been given to me. I realize that everything– my livelihood and anything achieved by my work– has come about because of the actions of others.

Oh, I create the work. Sure. But if others haven’t responded to it and collected it, hadn’t given their time to come to openings and talks or read this blog, I most likely would not be in this same place right now.

I don’t know that I would even still be in this world.

Everything I have in this world is owed to others. Some I know and love. Some I call friends. And some I barely know or have never met.

I possess an immense amount of gratitude. It might well be my most valuable possession.

So, expressing that gratitude by making a gift of one of my paintings every now and then seems like a small thing indeed. In fact, I feel that I often get more from doing this than the recipients of these paintings have received. I get to see their joy in that moment and that a big thing to me. To make someone else happy is as gratifying a feeling as any I know.

And in that moment, I feel as bit lighter, as though in some way what I owe to others has been paid.

I am debt-free for that single moment. It feels like a moment of grace.

We don’t get many of those in this life.

Believe me when I say that it’s well worth a painting or two.

Tune in tomorrow to find out what painting will be the prize at this year’s Gallery Talk.

The Gallery Talk takes place at the West End Gallery this coming Saturday, August 10, beginning at 11 AM.

The Uplifted Heart– At West End Gallery

As I walked in the woods I felt what I often feel that nothing can befall me in life, no calamity, no disgrace (leaving me my eyes) to which Nature will not offer a sweet consolation. Standing on the bare ground with my head bathed by the blithe air, & uplifted into the infinite space, I become happy in my universal relations. The name of the nearest friend sounds then foreign & accidental. I am the heir of uncontained beauty and power.

–Ralph Waldo Emerson, Journals

I am the heir of uncontained beauty and power…

Love this passage from Emerson. It doesn’t get much better. If only everyone could experience that feeling. Maybe we would be less cruel, less petty, less judgmental, less close-minded. 

More helpful than hurtful.

That’s all I am going to say this morning. Just share my normal triad of word, image and song. Along with Emerson’s words there is the painting at the top, The Uplifted Heart.  At 24″ by 24″ on canvas, it very much echoes Emerson’s thought for me. It’s included in my show, Persistent Rhythm, now hanging at the West End Gallery. 

To finish the triad, here’s a song that I played a couple of times over the years. It’s a longtime favorite from Lou Reed. This is Perfect Day. It feels right alongside this painting and Emerson’s words.

And finally, a reminder that I will be giving a Gallery Talk this coming Saturday, August 10, at the West End Gallery. It begins at 11 AM and there will the normal shenanigans, if you know what I mean. There will be more details here in the next day or two.

Hey, my annual Gallery Talk at the West End Gallery is just a week away! It takes place next Saturday, August 10, beginning at 11 AM. It is around an hour or so long and we try to fill the time with lots of good stuff.

For this year, we’re going all out. There’s a Bouncy House! Go Karts! A Parade of Clowns! Petting Zoo! Karaoke! Demolition Derby! Fried Dough! Beer Tent!

Oh, wait a second– that’s the county fair. I get these things mixed up sometimes.

So, just to be clear for my humor-challenged readers, there will not be a Bouncy House, Go Karts, Clowns, Petting Zoo, Karaoke, Demolition Derby, Fried Dough or a Beer Tent.

Even so, it is usually a good time. We all get to talk a little bit, listen a little bit, ask and answer questions, make some bad jokes (that’s usually my job at these things but feel free to take a turn), look at some paintings and then I give away some stuff.

Yes, there are things to be given away. I am not going into it any further at the moment but for those of you who have attended in the past, you know what I’m talking about.

So, if this sounds like something that interests you, get ready for next Saturday’s Gallery Talk. I suggest getting at the West End Gallery when the doors open at 10:45 if you want to grab a seat.

To get you going, here’s Rare Earth from 1970 singing their take on the Temptations’ classic Get Ready. This is one of those rare songs where it’s difficult to choose between the original version and the cover. Both are dynamite. And there will be no dynamite nor any other explosives at the Gallery Talk, in case that was concern for you.

All the World’s a Stage – At West End Gallery

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.

–William Shakespeare, As You Like It

The tree trunks in the forefront of this new painting remind me of the curtains of a theatre. I get the feeling that in this particular painting the curtains are opening, revealing the Red Tree standing centerstage in the starring role.

But then again, the curtains could be closing and the Red Tree’s time in the limelight may be coming to an end.

I guess it depends on one’s perspective and where they are in relation to either the opening or closing of the curtains of their own stage. I am closer now to the curtains closing so that likely shades my perspective a bit. But I like to think that the curtains will stay open a bit longer and that I will still have a part to play and lines to deliver before I exit the stage as the curtains come together.

I believe the message in this is that we are given little time in the spotlight so, whatever the size of your role, stand tall and belt out your lines so that they can be heard in every corner of the theatre.

Make your performance memorable.

Here’s song in this vein. It’s from about 50 years ago from Three Dog Night. This is The Show Must Go On. It’s more circus than theater but there is no doubt a role to be played for us all, whatever the venue.

All the World’s a Stage is 12″ by 36″ on canvas and is included in Persistent Rhythm, this year’s edition of my annual solo show, now hanging at the West End Gallery in Corning, NY. The show is up until August 29. As noted yesterday, will also be a Gallery Talk that will take place at the gallery on Saturday, August 10, beginning at 11 AM. I will be sharing details on the talk in the coming days.

In the Rhythm of the World– At West End Gallery

An artist must possess Nature. He must identify himself with her rhythms, by effort that will prepare the mastery which will later enable him to express himself in his own language.

–Henri Matisse, in a letter dated February 14, 1948

I like this thought from Henri Matisse very much. Nature is not static in any way. It is active, ever-changing and continually adjusting. We, as humans, thrive best when we align our life rhythms with those of the world. Very much as the monk/theologian Thomas Merton stated in his book No Man is an Island:

Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance and order and rhythm and harmony.

It seems to me that art is about recognizing and aligning with the rhythms produced by nature and expressing it in a unique and personal manner. I think you can see this demonstrated in any effective work of art.

This is the unifying idea behind my solo West End Gallery exhibit, Persistent Rhythm, and the primary belief behind the painting shown at the top. It is titled In the Rhythm of the World and is 12″ by 16″ on canvas.

This painting employs a format that I have used a number of times over the last several years, giving its composition an almost formal feel. I do this because the structure has a recognizable and easily accessible rhythm that I can easily slide into. Like painting anything in a series, this eliminates part of the thought process.

I then don’t have to think about what I am painting and can focus solely on how it will be painted. This makes for greater depth of expression and a subtlety that creates a unique feel and harmony for each piece in the series.

I believe this painting is a good example of that. It feels to me as though it captures a natural rhythm. I feel this is important because the rhythm of nature is not of one time. It is always contemporary, always in the present.

And that is what any artist hopes for in their own work. I know that I do.

Hope you can make it to the West End Gallery and see for yourself. The exhibit runs until the end of this month, on August 29th.

There will also be a Gallery Talk that will take place at the gallery on Saturday, August 10, beginning at 11 AM. It is normally a pretty good time with some art talk, plenty of Q&A, some light schtick, a few gifts, and maybe– just maybe– a painting given away.

Oh, who am I kidding? There will be a painting given away.

And maybe a brand new Maytag washer and dryer!! Maytag– leader in home appliances since 1936…

Well, maybe not that. But stay tuned. More details to come.

Flame of Life— At West End Gallery

But the worst enemy you can meet will always be yourself; you lie in wait for yourself in caverns and forests. Lonely one, you are going the way to yourself! And your way goes past yourself, and past your seven devils! You will be a heretic to yourself and witch and soothsayer and fool and doubter and unholy one and villain. You must be ready to burn yourself in your own flame: how could you become new, if you had not first become ashes?

— Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spake Zarathustra

This is Flame of Life, a 10″ by 10″ painting on canvas. It is included in my Persistent Rhythm show which is now hanging at the West End Gallery. The show ends August 29. There is also a Gallery Talk on Saturday, August 10, that begins at 11 AM.

I see the Red Tree in this painting as representing the Flame of Life, whatever force it is that energizes and animates us as humans. But I also like the idea of it representing those of us who have reinvented themselves at some point in their life, burning one’s prior self to ashes in order to build a new and better self.

I say better because hopefully at that point we would have experienced and transcended (survived) our own seven devils, as Nietzsche called them, those inner self-destructive aspects that bedevil many of us.

Maybe all of us. I can’t say for sure as many of these devils may be well hidden, only known to us alone. Maybe this act of keeping these devils under wraps is in itself something that should be set ablaze and reduced to ashes?

Again, I don’t know.

For myself, when it was time to set fire to my devils, I did try to burn that particular one as well. I wanted to be like the Red Tree here, aflame for all to see.

Nothing to hide.

But, of course, that might be a lie. To you and to myself.

Some devils from that prior incarnation might have escaped the fire and still lurk around me. You never know until they show their ugly faces.

But you can hope and try to live as though they have been turned to ash.

And let your flame burn bright…

Releasing the Fire— Included in Persistent Rhythm at West End Gallery

Every time we expand democracy, it seems we get complacent, thinking it’s a done deal. We forget that democracy is a process and that it’s never finished.

And when we get complacent, people who want power use our system to take over the government. They get control of the Senate, the White House, and the Supreme Court, and they begin to undermine the principle that we should be treated equally before the law and to chip away at the idea that we have a right to a say in our government. And it starts to seem like we have lost our democracy.

But all the while, there are people who keep the faith. Lawmakers, of course, but also teachers and journalists and the musicians who push back against the fear by reminding us of love and family and community. And in those communities, people begin to organize—the marginalized people who are the first to feel the bite of reaction, and grassroots groups. They keep the embers of democracy alive.

And then something fans them into flame.

–Heather Cox Richardson, Letters from an American, July 28, 2024

I had saw somewhere recently the phrase: Change may come fast, but progress comes slowly.

I kind of knew what was meant, that while circumstances often shift radically, the change doesn’t immediately have the intended results. It takes a while to adapt to the change, to discard the what was for the what is. I could identify times in my life where progress came much slower than the change that put it into motion.

But today’s essay from historian Heather Cox Richardson in her daily Letters from an American series put it all beautifully into perspective for me. She begins describing how certain things– she uses bankruptcy, fascism and democracy– happen slowly and gradually, almost undetected, at first then finish with a burst, all at once. She cites examples of how the big turning points in our history follow a similar pattern, beginning slowly with events that kindle a smoldering fire that all at once bursts into the full flame of revolutionary change. 

We’ve been smoldering for eight years now. With the Obama presidency, we became complacent, thinking that the fight for equality for done and in the past. But we now see how wrong we were.

There was a backlash that came with the Obama election, as the forces of big money, white supremacy, and an entrenched patriarchy took advantage of our complacency. Rights have been slowly eroded for women, people of color, and the working class. Many of us barely paid attention to the veiled  (and not so veiled) machinations from those who wanted it all for themselves.

With the Dobbs decision concerning a woman’s right to choose, it all came into focus. It was the spark that set the fire fully ablaze, too big and hot for anyone to ignore. It’s up to us now to keep that fire burning, to make the change that becomes real progress. The choice is between a democracy of expanding progress or a fascist government that exerts more and more control over its citizens. Take a look at what is taking place into Venezuela right now if you want to see what our future might hold if we fail.

It’s a brillant essay from Ms. Richardson, as is usually the case. She deftly uses a passage from John Dos Passos’ trilogy, U.S.A., a book that fully exposes the manner in which controlling powers have continually repeated a pattern of behavior that has gnawed at the fabric of this country for much of our nation’s existence. I urge you to read Ms. Richardson’s post from today and to also subscribe to her daily newsletter. It is free or you can opt to pay in order to show support for her work.

The man who goes up in a balloon does not feel as if he were ascending; he only sees the earth sinking deeper below him.

–Arthur Schopenhauer

The 2024 Olympic Games in Paris kicked off Friday with opening ceremonies that took place in an unusual setting, using the Seine and the beauty of the city itself as their backdrop rather than taking place in a stadium as has traditionally been the case with other openings ceremonies in the past. 

The ceremonies themselves were equally out of the ordinary. They were a rambling kaleidoscope of imagery and sound that was at times bewildering, beautiful, comical, and powerful. It was a very French mix of high culture and earthiness. But it was always interesting as the performers dealt with a driving rain that persisted throughout the day. 

One of the images that stuck out for me was the light of the Olympic cauldron that is on display and burns for the duration of the games. The lighting and placement of the cauldron has always been a highlight of the Olympics. There have been some stunning lighting ceremonies and the Paris organizers lived up to their predecessors’ efforts. 

The cauldron was lit then lifted into the Paris night via a hot air balloon. It was their tribute to the Montgolfier Brothers who developed the hot air balloon and piloted the first human ascent of one in 1783. The sight of the balloon hovering over Paris with the burning cauldron beneath it was a striking image, to say the least.

The symbol of the balloon is a fitting one for the Olympics as athletes attempt to lift their talents above those of their competitors. And for someone who regularly employs a hovering ball sun/moon in their work, one that hits home for me.

On this first Sunday of the Olympics this year let’s have an old favorite from The 5th Dimension for this week’s Sunday Morning Music that fits right in. Here’s Up, Up and Away.