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Posts Tagged ‘Oscar Wilde’

The final mystery is oneself.  When one has weighed the sun in the balance, and measured the steps of the moon, and mapped out the seven heavens star by star, there still remains oneself.  Who can calculate the orbit of his own soul?

–Oscar Wilde, De Profundis

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GC Myers- Pulse This painting, a 10″ by 20″ canvas titled Pulse, is part of the show, Layers, that is hanging at the the West End Gallery for just over another week, until August 29th.  I was going to write more about this painting but reading the words of Oscar Wilde above make me think that I need not say more.

The mystery of the universe and that of the self are one and the same.

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Taking Off the Mask

Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.

—–Oscar Wilde

I read this quote from Oscar Wilde and it made me think about painting serving as a mask for some artists, allowing them to say things in paint that they see as their truth that they might not be able to express otherwise.  I might fall into that category in some regards.  I certainly hope my work reflects some sort of inner truth.  Or, at least, reflects an aspiration for what I desire for my own truth.

For instance, my work often is placid and calm while I often do not reflect that same attitude personally.  I aspire to be calm and placid and sometimes I do find it for short periods of time.  Maybe the aspiration to be this way will eventually become an ultimate truth.  Maybe this sort of personal  truth can be created, like the face behind the mask beginning to take the shape of the mask.

I don’t know.  Maybe it’s something that we shouldn’t dwell on for too long.  I thought of this quote when I was finishing this recent painting, titled True Self, a 7″ by 15″ piece on paper.  I wondered if this image on the sheet before me was any part of my own truth.  I know that I wanted it to be such but there was part of me that felt unsure, sensing that the reality didn’t yet meet the aspiration.  But it felt like there was at least a small bit of my truth in there somewhere. 

Perhaps when I finally take off the mask I will find it was not a mask but a mold.

 

 

 

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This painting, And Into The World  There Came a Soul Called Ida, is the work of the late Ivan Albright.  Not a household name by any means, but if you’ve seen his work you’ll definitely remember it.

I saw a large  retrospective of his work a number of years ago at the Met and was fascinated ( and a little creeped out) by his subjects and the darkness and tone of the work .  But it was the incredible textures of the paintings that I found amazing.  They were very sculptural on the surface, with deep moonscapes of color, layer after layer of paint that seemed to be shoved and mashed on to the surface.  It was unlike anything I had ever seen.  It was obviously the product of a huge amount of labor but it wasn’t labored.  There was something very beautiful there that transcended the unflattering depictions of the paintings.

Albright was best known for the painting he produced that was used in The Picture of Dorian Gray, the 1945  film version of Oscar Wilde’s famous novel of a corrupt young man who defies the ravages of time while his portrait reflects the true result of his debauched life.  It was the horrifying image at the end of the film.

I’m still fascinated by his work even though I have to admit I get a queasy feeling when I really take in the whole of his characters, like seeing a car wreck and not being to turn away. They are horrible and beautiful at once.  I now also really appreciate the epic efforts that must’ve went into creating these pieces, the hundreds of hours that must have been spent.  The patience of maintaining vision.

So check out the work of Ivan Albright.  He had great titles, as well.  You don’t have to like his work  but you should be aware of it…

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