I'm very prejudiced. I don't think all "art" is art. My friends will (generously) put up with my vociferous bashing when I see a piece that is supposed to be "art" but is really ripping off the viewer, the person who may have commissioned it, and those of us who actually work at our craft.
So what is art? And what should it do? This is a question that has consumed many dinners. My husband's concise response is that art does three things:
* Art nurtures the soul.
* Art shelters the soul.
* Art interests the soul.
That's it. And that's a lot. Does it need to do all three at once? In other words, as an example, can art only interest the soul without sheltering or nurturing it? I'm not sure, but I don't think so. There is something about the arrangement of colour, form, design, texture, that attracts us and actually makes us pause to imbibe. Hence, it does all three if even for a second or two. Our soul becomes attached, if even in a small way, to what we view, smell, see or hear. And that attachment becomes a union. We have what Martin Buber might describe as an "I-Thou" relationship with the creator and with the environment that we are sharing.
So next time you are out and something catches you, ask if that thing of beauty is nurturing your soul, sheltering your soul and interesting your soul.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
To Create is an Act of Love
My husband is a great artist and a great philosopher and a great architect. This is actually one of his writings from March 2009. It well describes why we create.
"A philosopher told me once that God understood the world because He made it. While forming the whole He guided all the parts into their separate identities, their places. The identity of each part became realized by how each formed a part of the whole.
God understood the world because He gave each part existence with respect to Himself and with respect to the whole. In order to create, He had to devote a piece, a chard of Himself, in order to bring each piece its meaning as separate from the void. By surrendering a chard that diminished Him but rendered a creation, He gave love. With love, all acts of creation deepen the Creator. His understanding of the world was deepened by the making of it. By giving up parts of Himself without limitation to the life of the parts, He gained love of the world.
Being created, I must yearn to understand my place and my Father's place. I must do some measure of the work of my Father, by creating, by building. To begin to understand the world I must re-make a part of it. I must disassemble and re-assemble a part of the work/mind of God. In making, I allow parts of myself to align alongside those chards of God. To join my creation with those of God I must commit parts of myself, my chards to the creation. I give an irredeemable chard tin order to bring each piece its meaning and separate it from the void. By undertaking the challenge to build with love, I have surrendered to the job of opening my soul. Then, from my soul, lies the chard of the divine where God and I dwell together. "
"A philosopher told me once that God understood the world because He made it. While forming the whole He guided all the parts into their separate identities, their places. The identity of each part became realized by how each formed a part of the whole.
God understood the world because He gave each part existence with respect to Himself and with respect to the whole. In order to create, He had to devote a piece, a chard of Himself, in order to bring each piece its meaning as separate from the void. By surrendering a chard that diminished Him but rendered a creation, He gave love. With love, all acts of creation deepen the Creator. His understanding of the world was deepened by the making of it. By giving up parts of Himself without limitation to the life of the parts, He gained love of the world.
Being created, I must yearn to understand my place and my Father's place. I must do some measure of the work of my Father, by creating, by building. To begin to understand the world I must re-make a part of it. I must disassemble and re-assemble a part of the work/mind of God. In making, I allow parts of myself to align alongside those chards of God. To join my creation with those of God I must commit parts of myself, my chards to the creation. I give an irredeemable chard tin order to bring each piece its meaning and separate it from the void. By undertaking the challenge to build with love, I have surrendered to the job of opening my soul. Then, from my soul, lies the chard of the divine where God and I dwell together. "
Sunday, April 10, 2011
To Go Fast, Go Slow
Drawing accurately is a difficult task. Artists talk about the excellent draughtmanship of certain artists with reverence. Pierre Prud'homme is in this top position for excellence. His drawings are not only accurate, but beautiful. DaVinci and Thomas Eakins also reign at the top. One might think all master artists draw with superb accuracy, but they don't. Their work might be beautiful, but not perfectly "accurate". It doesn't mean that those works are somehow "less than". Their skills are indeed excellent, but as in all things, there are those who just rise above the rest.
So how does one become a good draughtsman, let alone excellent? My son had a violin teacher who used to say, on a very regular basis, "... to go fast, you need to go slow...'' It seems so paradoxical. How can slowing down actually speed things up???? Going slow means taking the time to truly measure. Like the other adage, "measure twice, cut once", the same is true for drawing. Only instead of measuring twice, one may need to measure 3, 4, 10 times, or what ever it takes to get it right. It means taking the time to relate how one part of the drawing fits with other parts of the drawing. It also means don't get wedded to your work. You have to learn to separate yourself from the work itself. You have to be willing to change, erase, re-do. But there is more. It means taking as much time as it takes to get it right, and remembering that it isn't a race. Because once the drawing is accurate, everything else goes so much faster and easier.
And isn't this true for most things in life? To go fast, go slow. It will not only save time, but you might also learn and see something new along the way.
So how does one become a good draughtsman, let alone excellent? My son had a violin teacher who used to say, on a very regular basis, "... to go fast, you need to go slow...'' It seems so paradoxical. How can slowing down actually speed things up???? Going slow means taking the time to truly measure. Like the other adage, "measure twice, cut once", the same is true for drawing. Only instead of measuring twice, one may need to measure 3, 4, 10 times, or what ever it takes to get it right. It means taking the time to relate how one part of the drawing fits with other parts of the drawing. It also means don't get wedded to your work. You have to learn to separate yourself from the work itself. You have to be willing to change, erase, re-do. But there is more. It means taking as much time as it takes to get it right, and remembering that it isn't a race. Because once the drawing is accurate, everything else goes so much faster and easier.
And isn't this true for most things in life? To go fast, go slow. It will not only save time, but you might also learn and see something new along the way.
Monday, March 7, 2011
How's It Hangin'?
We all have pet peeves. I have quite a few....the dishwasher being loaded the "wrong way", an unmade bed, moving decorations (or anything, for that matter) around and not putting them back exactly as they were. And don't get me started on disorder of any kind......You get the idea, so you might imagine how I feel when paintings are not hung correctly. Too high (often), too low (not often enough), or uneven. I'm not sure which bothers me more - too high or uneven. Both really get to me. But most of us, and I do include myself because it wasn't until my husband taught me the rules of hanging, succumb to the pitfalls of how to hang a piece of art.
First in the rules: Know from what position you will be viewing the work(s). If you are seated, then the center of the image should be just above eye level. If you are standing, such as in a hallway, then the center will be higher.
I found this gem of a rule at www.apartmenttherapy.com http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/ny/how-to/how-to-hang-your-artwork-and-not-screw-it-up- "always hang your art at 57" on center. "On center" means that the middle of the picture is at 57" (obviously, the hook will be higher). Interestingly, the 57" standard represents the average human eye-height and is regularly used as a standard in many galleries and museums...
First in the rules: Know from what position you will be viewing the work(s). If you are seated, then the center of the image should be just above eye level. If you are standing, such as in a hallway, then the center will be higher.
I found this gem of a rule at www.apartmenttherapy.com http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/ny/how-to/how-to-hang-your-artwork-and-not-screw-it-up- "always hang your art at 57" on center. "On center" means that the middle of the picture is at 57" (obviously, the hook will be higher). Interestingly, the 57" standard represents the average human eye-height and is regularly used as a standard in many galleries and museums...
What WE have discovered is that if you stick to this standard, you create a harmony among ALL the pictures in your home, as they will always hang in relationship to one another from their centers, not their sides. Additionally, we have also found that this helps solve the problem many people have, which is that they hang their pictures too high.
Step By Step:
1. Measure and lightly mark 57" on the wall
2. Measure top of your picture to the middle (or take height and divide by 2)
3. Measure top of your picture to the tightened wire (a small amount)
4. Subtract this last amount to tell you how far above 57" your hook should go
5. Measure up from 57" with this last amount and lightly mark on the wall
2. Measure top of your picture to the middle (or take height and divide by 2)
3. Measure top of your picture to the tightened wire (a small amount)
4. Subtract this last amount to tell you how far above 57" your hook should go
5. Measure up from 57" with this last amount and lightly mark on the wall
Example:
1. Picture is 20" tall
2. Middle is 10" down from top (this should rest at 57")
3. Wire comes to 2" below the top
4. 10" - 2" = 8"
5. Lightly mark 8" above your first mark OR 65" on the wall
2. Middle is 10" down from top (this should rest at 57")
3. Wire comes to 2" below the top
4. 10" - 2" = 8"
5. Lightly mark 8" above your first mark OR 65" on the wall
Though this may seem complicated to read, it is quite simple when you do it. The thing to always remember is that the CENTER of all your pictures are hanging at the same 57", and you are just figuring out where the hook goes above it.
This 57" also applies to groups of pictures. Think of a group as ONE picture. After you arrange how you want them all to hang (doing this on the floor makes it easier), start with the center picture/pictures and get them at 57" on center. Then surround them with the rest of the group.
Good luck. And call me if you need a tape measure.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
True Grit
Certain things take courage. Not as much courage as living in a fallen cave for 2 months, or being a firefighter. A different kind of courage. The kind I'm talking about is pulling up plants that are still alive, with tomatoes on them, but really have gone beyond their time in the garden. In California we have 4 full growing seasons and although I still have some tomato plants left in the ground with their fruit on them, I know over the next weekend, despite the unusual heat, they will need to come out. It would be easier if I knew what I was going to plant in their places, but the sun is low in the sky so whatever I put in will be a root vegetable of some sort. And right now, I have no idea what I may plant. And this is the great challenge of pulling out plants that are green and healthy, but past their prime. It's like cutting short potential. I think most gardeners face this gritty problem. Our inclination is to nurture plants along. We water and fertilize, compost and pick off snails, and do all the things a gardener does to encourage growth. The fruition for this results in an abundant harvest. Or at least that is the faith we start with when we plant. But as much as it pains me, I will have to pull out the remaining tomato plants, eat the red ones and keep the green ones on the counter to ripen on their own, and know that the process of gardening does require a season for everything. I will have to be comfortable in that and then remember that gardens are a fully renewable resource.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Artistic License: Order from Chaos
Artistic License: Order from Chaos: "Flylady (http://www.flylady.com/) says that you can't organize clutter. You have to get rid of it. She's right. And last weekend it was t..."
Order from Chaos
Flylady (http://www.flylady.com/) says that you can't organize clutter. You have to get rid of it. She's right. And last weekend it was time to clear some of the clutter in my studio. I don't know about you, but there are times I really want to work but the amount of visual noise surrounding me snuffs out any creativity that may be lurking. Even if the idea is close to the surface the stuff just drowns out any chance to get it out. So I cleaned and organized and threw out. I found that I have an amazing assortment of papers that will accept all kinds of mediums, a really excellent group of images, both mine and from others, to study and play with, a lot of information on anatomy in addition to the books on that subject which is already in my library, notes from classes and workshops, old work which looks pretty good, and probably a bit too much furniture. I'm not ready to move the furniture, but everything else got filed and placed in their places. And then the most amazing things happened. Some girlfriends came for a visit and one of them told me about a technique she uses using watercolour and permanent inks. And because I had cleaned up, I knew exactly where to find paper that would be perfect for that kind of project. And then someone gave me old canvases that had been painted on but still perfectly good to repaint over and I have the space for that too. And an old photograph of a potential painting that I had been trying to paint for a couple of years now and I'm probably cabable to do it now. So here is the message.....While it may seem like it's procrastination and not very creative to clean, it opens up all kinds of possibilities. So I'm off to explore the possibilites.
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