In various stages.
I am taking an online course entitled Marriage and the Movies and it has me thinking about how characters that African Americans had to play in movies were almost exclusively supporting roles, both figuratively and literally as they often had to prop up white actors/actresses. Most famously Hattie McDaniel’s character performed this function for Vivien Leigh’s Scarlett in Gone with the Wind. I remember many in the audience hissing when they saw the slaves in a showing of the film in New York in the 1990’s.I like to think that this portrait just begun of McDaniel will hiss and more if anyone would challenge her.
I am challenging myself to create group portraits. It is a continuation of expressing the notion that that those who are prisoners, whether criminals or victims are connected to us and we to them. I did some drawings of groups when I was exploring images of my father as a child during World War II. These drawings led me back to the whole painting surface, as I am using negative and positive space to bring the picture into harmony. This was influenced by a talk I gave at the George School, when I spoke of how I was breaking the rule I learned in school of covering the whole canvas with paint. I rejected this in my series of fighters; now I am returning to it. My reading of the finely researched and brilliantly written David Park: a painter’s life by Nancy Boas also contributed to my thoughts about this painting. Park is my role model because of his ability to convey the universality of people. He did it with amazing technique, energy and integrity.
Today I am remembering the joy of discovery that accompanied life drawing which I did almost every day for years when I was in my teens and twenties. The feeling I am describing often happened when I found the plane that emerged from the lighting being just so. The plane affirmed what I had learned in anatomy class or from my studies of plaster casts, old master drawings and marble sculptures. I am discovering this feeling anew while painting from a beautiful drawing by Pontormo.
When I was looking for the next images that will occupy my attention I knew that I wanted to get back to the body. I thought of my friend who told me that my paintings of bodies captured the pain that lives within the body.
I have written before about the books my father brought home from Europe and one in particular was a book of Michelangelo drawings that I would copy. When I was at the NY Academy, I fell in love with Pontormo. I thought about what is beautiful to me, what could take up all of my attention, and I thought of these drawings. I have a copy of the Hacker Art Books revised edition of of Cox-Rearick’s 2 volume The Drawings of Pontormo. But of course the quality of the images do not compare to the digital ones I found on the Getty Open Content site. I printed the Reclining Youth and have been studying it and painting from it. I hope this will take me further into other drawings by Pontormo as well as drawings I have done in the past.
I am seeking a transformation with these paintings from drawings: by taking something I love and all of the feelings that are attendant with that love I hope to create something intense and profound. At first I was thinking of the Buddhist concept of emptiness and trying to achieve this through the contrary process of addition. The result: to achieve a sort of disappearance or separation from time and place. But that is perhaps too much of a task. I will be satisfied with achieving a definition of alchemy: an inexplicable or mysterious transmuting.
The image below was begun only recently. Much more to discover.
Besides the very obvious but often neglected aspects of life that one is grateful for: love, friendship, shelter and security, it is a blessing to be able to draw. Drawing is a way to slow down, to really look and see. It is the artistic soul’s equivalent of a spa day. That is why I am very excited about the The Morgan Library and Museum’s two drawing shows which are up now. One is of Leonardo’s works, the other consists of the Morgan’s collection of 18th century Venetian drawings. Looking forward to seeing both of these on my birthday. Closer to home beginning in late January the Princeton University Art Museum will be mounting an exhibit of some of their Italian drawings. Although the exhibit is a departure from the traditional old master works, the description of the Brush Writing in the Arts of Japan show at the Metropolitan Museum pertains very well to the classic draftsperson of the Western world. For a fresh take on drawing, the Newark Museum’s Papyraceous is an offbeat look at works on paper. At this time of year, when multitasking and distraction is even more pronounced than usual, it is wonderful to quietly observe and linger.
I began with the idea of painting a portrait of my family, but decided instead to focus on my sister and myself. However, I wanted to relate our family to the larger world. With the war now, and the ramifications war has had on families throughout the centuries, I wondered how we, as children, would survive during wartime. This was not idle curiosity, as my Father went to England during World War II, as part of the Kindertransport. Growing up with almost no supervision or parenting, I am not sure if I could have been as responsible as he had to be at such a young age.
and our different depictions in art. To think that powerful forces, past and present, dictate how we image ourselves is both enlightening and frightening. In this new painting, I am contrasting the powerful figure from a photograph by Leni Riefenstahl with images of women who must cover themselves. Propaganda art is a potent dictator of fashion, but so too is religion. Here I am working on two divergent representations, perhaps about to come into conflict.
I have been carting out my drawings, in the hopes of presenting them to curators. These struck me more than others today: