The lines at the bottom of today's drawing used a solution from my most important teacher, Philip Guston. Here I exhibit Guston's continual influence on me. I accept Guston's discovery of impactful compositional solutions. It is not just an idea espoused by Guston; Guston is in the good company of Pablo Picasso, Mark Rothko, and me. It is the in-your-face solution: this is a great means to capture and involve the viewer. Do images require a primary form. Is there misdirection without a primary form. Yesterday I read an article in the New Yorker, "My Struggle with Cézanne," written by the art critic Peter Schjeldahl. It is the following two paragraphs that spoke loudly to me:
"It’s a return to roots for MOMA, which initiated its narrative of modern painting in 1929 with a show that included van Gogh, Seurat, and Gauguin as well as Cézanne, whose broken forms made the others look comparatively conservative as composers of pictures. He stood out then, as he does now, for an asperity of expression that is analytical in form and indifferent to style. The appearance of his works is an effect, not a fulfillment. He revolutionized visual art, changing a practice of rendering illusions to one of aggregating marks that cohere in the mind rather than in the eye of a viewer. You don’t look at a Cézanne, some ravishing late works excepted. You study it, registering how it’s done—in the drawings, with tangles of line and, often, patches of watercolor. Each detail conveys the artist’s direct gaze at a subject but is rarely at pains to serve an integrated composition. Cézanne was savagely sincere in his ways of looking, true to what he called his “little sensation” in how things, bit by bit, met his regard. He made pictorial vision the exercise of an artist’s concerted will and a challenge to a viewer’s understanding." Recently I have this fear, a fear that my complex vision, the manner in which I make art, is broken into minute qualities and quantities of form, all searching for a coherent composition. With my "tangles of line," and "little sensation" after "little sensation," I find a composition. I fear I have a propensity to work like Cézanne, who Peter Schjeldahl says, was "rarely at pains to serve an integrated composition." Now I am at pains to serve an integrated composition. My recent idea is to identify a central form, or central thematic area, in each of my works. Yesterday's drawing is such work. The force of my will made this one. It is apropos of my need to grab your attention, grab my attention. I center you, I center me, by using strong vertical forms. Somehow, when I was finished with this drawing, I was reminded of Picasso's "Crucifixion" from 1930. I believe it to be one of Picasso's most remarkable works, different as it is in color, space, and forms from anything else Picasso. Yes, in this crucifixion there is relationships to everything Picasso had done, and would do, but Picasso's approach here is quite different. The viewer is centered by the light-valued blue of the Christ figure and his distraught mother. After this centering, the viewer can wander, be continuously surprised by the complete animation, the literal references, within the composition, one after the next. My drawing is simpler, yet equally haunting. This bring me to the question of background. There is blank paper in my drawing. Does that work? I usually like to touch every surface. I usually feel the need to identify every part of my paper's surface as part of my space, my time, and my composition. That did not happen in this drawing's background. Does it work? There is a bold, forceful grab here: the viewer is captured by strong, vertical forms, I do believe the white paper ground serves its contrasting purpose. I see the white as definitive space; it is the flat plane in front of which the rest of the composition resides. Notice how Picasso dealt with his background and the negative space; four flat colored areas: blue, yellow, orange, red. Is the viewer bothered by these unidentifiable spaces? No! Instead the multiple compositionally positive forms grab and install the viewer within the composition. The forms are strong enough to support the vague spaces and surfaces Picasso's flat colors depict. "The Opposite of Indifference" (2021 No.4, state 13), oil on canvas, 54x51 inches, {"The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference. Because of indifference one dies before one actually dies. To be in the window and watch people being sent to concentration camps or being attacked in the street and do nothing, that's being dead. His or her neighbor are of no consequence. Their hidden or visible anguish is of no interest. Indifference reduces the Other to an Abstraction." - Elie Wiesel, "US News & World Report" (27 October 1986)} The background of the painting, "The Opposite of Indifference", reminds me of an old master painting, such as Rembrandt's "Self-Portrait" of 1665 (below). My browns and yellows come from Cadmium Yellow and Manganese Violet. Did Rembrandt do the same? I do know. My painting called for a touch of pure red, just as Rembrandt's did! My War, my seeking Peace, is strongly upon me. I am at War because of my desire to force myself (also, my viewers), into spotlight, concentration, and focus. This is me seeking Peace; I have been calling this centering. It is much more sophisticated than than simple centering. In both of today's works I compositionally grapple with this idea of forcing myself (and my viewers) to center into my work of art. Rembrandt did this well. Rembrandt's invention of semi-circles in his "Self-Portrait" moves the viewer off center into the spotlight of his face. Abstraction was Rembrandt's great gift; he always used it to control the composition, forcing the viewer into absorption, and involvement. Rembrandt captured us, his viewers, with abstract brushstrokes, light, color, shapes, and forms. I love Rembrandt's "Self-Portrait"of 1665 because you can see his complete mastery; Rembrandt grabs, captures his viewer through abstracted qualities available in the arsenal of a painter's tools. Yes, Rembrandt experienced War too; he too sought Peace through his art. For the artist, this War seeking Peace is the endless. It is the game we play. "Gonna Speak to the Crowd" (2021 No.5, state 4), oil on canvas, 62¾x57⅜ inches, {"I'm gonna spare the defeated — I'm gonna speak to the crowd. I'm gonna spare the defeated, boys, I'm going to speak to the crowd. I am goin' to teach peace to the conquered. I'm gonna tame the proud." - Bob Dylan, "Lonesome Day Blues" (2001)} "The Opposite of Indifference" (2021 No.4, state 12), oil on canvas, 54x51 inches, {"The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference. Because of indifference one dies before one actually dies. To be in the window and watch people being sent to concentration camps or being attacked in the street and do nothing, that's being dead. His or her neighbor are of no consequence. Their hidden or visible anguish is of no interest. Indifference reduces the Other to an Abstraction." - Elie Wiesel, "US News & World Report" (27 October 1986)} The viewer will be engaged if the image forces the viewer's vision to be centered. This does not necessarily mean the main form of the image is in the center of the image. Obvious? Yes! Take a look at Modigliani's "Boy in the Blue Shirt"! Then take a look at the three images I show today. The most important thing I leaned in making this drawing: I do not favor horizontal compositions. I prefer vertical formats, as did Francis Bacon, Richard Diebenkorn, Joan Miró, and Mark Rothko. Philip Guston preferred horizontal formats. Interesting; this implies a need to ponder. "The Opposite of Indifference" (2021 No.4, state 05), oil on canvas, 50x54 inches, {"The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference. Because of indifference one dies before one actually dies. To be in the window and watch people being sent to concentration camps or being attacked in the street and do nothing, that's being dead. His or her neighbor are of no consequence. Their hidden or visible anguish is of no interest. Indifference reduces the Other to an Abstraction." - Elie Wiesel, "US News & World Report" (27 October 1986)} As art history knowledge goes, I have a lot. Despite the logic imbedded in masterpieces, omni-present in my mind, that logic is elusive. It is logical to be influenced by the Masters. It is illogical not to embrace lessons learned from the Masters. The Masters worked lifetimes to achieve their intelligence of knowing. I am here, a lifetime of achievement behind me; I continue to learn. My learning has not taken a fully logical route, I am accepting logic more today than ever before. It surrounds me, is imbedded in me, is imbedded in the painters who influence my work. Why fight it? I fought it because I wanted to become myself, I want to discover by myself by myself. Here I am, accepting logic because I am now able to accept that I have become myself. Yesterday's drawing was made after seeing a small Joan Miró print in a room of house, a house built and exhibited at The Museum of Modern Art. An article appeared about this house appeared in yesterday's New York Times. It was not the Miró I show below. "The Opposite of Indifference" (2021 No.4, state 04), oil on canvas, 49x53½ inches, {"The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference. Because of indifference one dies before one actually dies. To be in the window and watch people being sent to concentration camps or being attacked in the street and do nothing, that's being dead. His or her neighbor are of no consequence. Their hidden or visible anguish is of no interest. Indifference reduces the Other to an Abstraction." - Elie Wiesel, "US News & World Report" (27 October 1986)} If I have learned any one thing from Ellsworth Kelly and Mark Rothko, it is this: centering is everything. It is the origin of truth telling. The viewer is confused without an obvious center. Strength of purpose is exuded when the artist dares to speak from his center. dI am fascinated by the appeal of front and center composition. Quick engagement of the viewer depends on straightforward engagement of the viewer. This is accomplished by using straight-on centered forms, easy and simple images, compositions built on one fully comprehensible shape. Picasso and Rothko mastered this, proved this, over and over again. Today I show my effort in this direction, made yesterday. Also I show a Picasso and a Rothko to illustrate my point. I am a diehard fan of Frank Zappa’s music. Last night I watched the 2020 documentary film, Zappa.
Zappa was everything I thought him to be. For me, this film was not revealing, but enormously confirmative. I enjoyed Zappa's music then. I continue to listen to Zappa's music now, often. My first live Zappa concert was in Madison Wisconsion, 1969. I dragged along my three college roommates; not sure they ever forgave me. Please excuse this aside. Seeing Zappa again flooded me with reminiscence. I did not know that Zappa actually became Slovakia’s official “Trade and Cultural Representative" to the United States. I knew Zappa appeared several times before Congressional Committees, who were actively looking into banning Republican repulsive lyrics; that is here. I did not know he was a cultural hero to young Slovaks. Apparently the Slovak police, when citizens called to complain about abhorrent Rock and Roll being played, would say to the listeners, “Turn off that Zappa music!” Zappa said the Slovak youth would not have known who he was except for the police. Consequently, Zappa became a cultural hero, and the first American of stature to visit after the Velvet Revolution. The beginning, and near the end, of the film, shows Zappa in Prague for one of his last concerts. Where am I in all of this. I am my own cultural hero. I am the hero of my life. Seeing Frank Zappa being his own hero reminds me of me. I document everything I do. Frank did the same. This blog is a result of my personal cultural documentation. Here I am, day by day, putting my art in a Vault, for myself, for others who are interested. Frank often said he made music only for himself. He was a person documentarian with a Vault of his ow; it collected everything he did, day by day. All his music, all his scores and writings, are collected, are available, in Frank Zappa's Vault, made by Frank Zappa for Frank Zappa. I do the same for myself. Yesterday's drawing is revelatory. I am, through work, becoming myself, documenting my continuing personal revelation, on paper and canvas. Some days this path feels better than others. This drawing feels good now, it felt good in the making. |
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April 2024
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