Paintings of Time and Place

Musings on the work of Oscar Bluemner (1867-1938)

The psychology of painting continues to intrigue me. What is it that makes an artist tick? In asking this question perhaps I am trying to find the answers to my own inner ticking. Some days I think I have the answer and then a strange form appears on the canvas with no where or why from whence it came.

Last night I turned to an article on Oscar Bluemner (1867-1938) in an old issue of Art in America (January, 2006). His life, unlike the vibrant colors of his paintings, was a story of penury, ultimate isolation, and subsequently suicide in 1938. Training as an architect in Germany and his emotional isolation in later life "appear" on the canvas side by side in his later works of the 30s–strong angular lines combined with curved swirling form almost as if depicting his inner maelstroms. According to the author, Richard Kalina, Bluemner felt that "art’s primary mission was not to depict the exterior world, but to illuminate the inner being of the artist." (99). And he seemed to do just that.

So what are my images telling the world about me? Several of my paintings focus on a woman standing alone or apart from peers. I have always felt a bit apart from most of my female peers. I would rather delve into issues of the world and solutions for problems than talk about the bargains at Costco. Then there are the medieval arches forming entrance into towns such as Avignon, one of my favorite towns in Provence. The Palais des Papes and I am not even Catholic. Long robed figures that could be religious icons from other times and places. I know that I operate from a spiritual place combining beliefs and values of other religions–more a compilation of parts of theological underpinnings instead of the theology of the religion I knew as a child. Just the fact that I ask these questions tells a lot about my past career as a diagnostic specialist working with learning disabled children. A PhD with reading and training in giving psychological tests, analyses of those tests, etc.

Regardless of what it is that makes me tick, I continue to paint, think, and write.

Musings on The Daily Practice of Painting by Gerhard Richter

Gerhard Richter's book entitled The Daily Practice of Painting has nudged me to develop my own philosophy of painting.  In a statement from a journal coined by him in 1964-65, Richter states:  "The photograph is the most perfect picture."( 31)  Is it?  A photograph may share intimations of perfection with those who view it, but it cannot represent reality with a finite eye.  Distortions, light reflections, movement, etc....all help to shape the image on paper.   A photograph can never represent the artist's view of the world before he represents it if, indeed, he is true to his inner vision.  Artists sift, assimilate, put together, and manipulate their views of reality according to their own inner psychic beat.  Every time I put a stroke of paint onto the canvas, I share a part of myself on that canvas, a part of my beliefs and visions. It is through putting those strokes onto the canvas that I learn more about myself and in the process, perhaps more about the world.  Perfection they are not.

In this digital age, wonder if Richter would make the same comment about the perfection of photographs.

"Native American Dancer"

Native American Dancer

12" X 9" unframed

Oil on Canvas

$100.00 USD

"Native American Dancer" had its beginning origins in a painting group in which we were given a photo and asked to paint from the photo. I don’t usually paint from photos. I find them too limiting with the end result tighter than the paintings I create from my mind. But with this photo, I felt an emotional connection to the point of almost hearing the pow wow drum beat with which the dancer synchronizes his movement. Three beats and three movements of the feet. The beat is mesmerizing and so much in touch with the rhythms of the earth. Having attended several Native American drummings here in Taos ( in which several people sit in a circle beating a drum in time with the chant and drum beat of the leader), I connected my experiences with what I imagine to be the experiences of this pictured dancer. The beat becomes almost primeval. One becomes almost hypnotized with the resonance of the drums. Drum beats touching the heart and every bone of the body. Mesmerized until the end.  In spite of my fascination with the subject,  it took me two years to come back to this painting and finish it.  I heard the drum beat stronger than ever.

Pueblo Energy

I am sitting here looking out over the beige expanse of New Mexican mesa dotted with green poufs of sage brush.  Nary a person to be seen in the distance.  Thunder rumbles while the mountains spread their energy of power across the terrain.  Taos, New Mexico--the last place in the US that I would have expected to find myself.   But fate makes its own serendipitous moves leading us along a path with a destination that is most in line with whom we are and what we do.  People, events, and places that nudge us and sometimes hit us with a real whop on the head.  Wake up!  Can't you get the message?  I finally got it.  Taos, New Mexico--beauty, energy, and creativity all in one place.  Taos has been one of my destinations, perhaps not the last, but a welcome one along the way.

Pueblo Energy

Monotype

4" X 6"

Prayerful Thanks

On this special day of freedom, I yearn for freedom in the rest of the world so that all might aspire to realize their dreams and goals for their families and themselves.    This image reminds me of the holy persons of the world who spread these messages of hope and faith.  It appeared as many of my images do--out of the blue.  May each of us do our part of make the world a better place for all in which to live.  Happy Fourth of July!