Another gray, wet, cold Sunday morning here in paradise. The sun lately seems like a stranger who, on those rare occasions when it appears, I have a vague recollection of once seeing. It’s grim and has me gazing out my window, hoping that the ghost of Tom Joad, like he had somehow stepped right out of The Grapes Of Wrath, might emerge out of the darkness set against the distant pines. This weather puts me in that mood, that grim feeling of that we need somebody to stand against the darker forces of this world.
Tom Joad, as dark and ill-fated a character as he seems, still gives me hope that there are still people out there who won’t turn a blind eye to injustice and inequality. People who haven’t been numbed by their own self-interest and comfort. They don’t have to be heroes, just plain people with a sense of decency and an unwillingness to turn their back to the wrongs they witness.
We sure could use some more Tom Joads.
Here’s my Sunday morning music. It is, of course, The Ghost of Tom Joad, from Bruce Springsteen. Have yourself a day– good, bad or indifferent– and if you see Tom Joad, tell him I am looking for him.
“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.”
― John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley
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Omega Tree
Friday is the opening for my show, Sensing the Unseen, at the Kada Gallery. In my opinion, it’s a strong show with some interesting groupings within it. For instance there are several snow scenes, something I normally have done only once in a great while in the past. There was something different in painting these scenes this time however, something I can’t really identify except to say that these seemed more expressive right as the paint left the brush.
I really just enjoyed painting these. Finding the subtle colors in the white of the snow and sky was fascinating and rewarding. It just felt good as I definitely was immersed during the process.
Time is short today as I am delivering the show at the Kada Gallery, but I thought I would show the group of snow paintings together here. Come out to the gallery to see them in person. They always look better up close, in front of you, rather than on a screen.
It was on this date 75 years ago, in 1939, that John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrathwas published. Following the Joad family as they lose their family farm in Dust Bowl-era Oklahoma and head for fields and groves of California, this epic tale has parallels for the dispossessed and downtrodden everywhere and in every time. The book and subsequent movie, the 1940 John Ford classic starring Henry Ford as the everyman Tom Joad, have influenced my perspective on the world since I was child.
When it was published, The Grapes of Wrath was an instant bestseller but it also stirred more than a little controversy. Many were shocked at the portrayals of poverty and couldn’t believe they were true, that such destitution could exist in our country. Many were alarmed at the book’s themes of collectivism, feeling that it was a nudge in the direction of some form of Soviet Communism instead of a gathering of the preyed upon and voiceless into a form that had a strong and unified voice and gave them protection against their oppressors.
I am sure there are many who still see the book as some sort of threat to the status quo– it is still one of the most frequently banned books in the country. I think that says a lot about the strength of the powers-that-be and the fact that there are even more families like the Joads out there today– dispossessed, voiceless and feeling absolutely alone in the world. I am sure that Steinbeck could find plenty of source material in today’s America to write a modern day sequel.
It’s a powerful book and movie, one that I play at least once a year in the studio. It still moves me deeply ad always will. I wrote about the movie here a few years back in a post titled Then Who Do We Shoot?, outlining my early brush with the movie and how it affected me as a kid. I also had the video below which has a review from the NY Times with a few of the many great scenes including Tom’s farewell to his mother.
Happy 75th, Grapes of Wrath. You haven’t lost a step.
These five words uttered by Muley the sharecropper being thrown from his family farm by bankers near the beginning of The Grapes of Wrath echo in my head. He is frustrated by the seemingly crooked game of cards his world has become and wants to know who has been dealing him these losing hands from the deck of life that is so stacked against him. And all he gets is anonymity and buck-passing. He is flailing at boogeymen.
I had John Ford’s classic film of John Steinbeck’s novel on in the studio as I worked yesterday, a ritual I perform at least once a year. I never cease to be amazed at the topicality of the film in almost any hard time and am moved by scene after scene in the film, even after all these years. It has long been one of my favorites and has shaded my view of the world since I was a child.
I remember distinctly the first time I saw the film. It was a very snowy day during our Christmas break. I couldn’t have been more than 10 years old and my brother and I sat down to watch Ed Murphy’s Hollywood Matinee, a daily showing of a film from the Syracuse TV channel that we were able to pick up with our antenna that laid on the roof of the the old farmhouse in which we lived. Ed Murphy was a boozy white-haired local TV/radio personality who introduced the movies, which were usually cut haphazardly to fit in extra commercials. Murphy also presided over the Dialing For Dollars portion of the show where he would pull a telephone listing ( a Syracuse phonebook cut into pieces) and call a lucky listener for a cash prize. I can’t remember exactly how the rules worked but I remember a lot about watching that particular movie.
I remember thinking how Tom Joad was not a particularly good man, especially as a hero. He had just been released from prison and talked about killing a man with a shovel in a fight. He had a quick and angry temper but a tenderness when dealing with Ma Joad and his family. I also remember seeing in the faces of the bank men and the bosses at the farms and orchards that same mean-spirited bully attitude I could see in the faces of bullies at school. actually, there was a great familarity in the whole movie. I could see traces of my family and many people I knew in the Joads. People pushed and prodded and never quite able to gain their footing, never in control of their situation. We weren’t Okies but these people were everywhere–average people who struggled on small farms or worked long hours in factories.
This observed familiarity with these characters has only grown over the years. I recognize more and more people in the faces of those downtrodden Joads and see many scenes in the film that are analagous to situations in our times. It’s a movie that I feel is a must-see for everyone.
Here’s a nice review of the film from the New York Times (short ad at the beginning-sorry!) that includes a couple of clips including Muley with the bankman and Tom’s farewell to Ma, which may be my favorite scene in amy film.
I watch the film version of John Steinbeck’s“The Grapes of Wrath” a couple of times a year in the studio and am always moved by this scene. I think it fits well in this current environment. I want a president who feels the pain and the longing for justice and equality of all the Tom Joads in this country, not one who only uses them in the form of “Joe the Plumber” to further his aspirations to a position where he can best serve his cronies.
To me, this is a scene that defines us as Americans, that speaks to our desire for fairness for all. I could write on and on about it but none of my words would have the sheer beauty and strength of the original words. Take a few minutes and take a look…
Another gray, wet, cold Sunday morning here in paradise. The sun lately seems like a stranger who, on those rare occasions when it appears, I have a vague recollection of once seeing. It’s grim and has me gazing out my window, hoping that the ghost of Tom Joad, like he had somehow stepped right out of The Grapes Of Wrath, might emerge out of the darkness set against the distant pines. This weather puts me in that mood, that grim feeling of that we need somebody to stand against the darker forces of this world.
Redtree Times 