Five years ago my sculpture “Bathing Figure” was based on a vision from long ago.
My diary refers to sketching on a riverside in Grenada.
“…One day, a young woman, undeterred by the teasing of her mates, planted down her basket of washing on a boulder close to my chosen spot. I rapidly made sketch after sketch until she had scrubbed, beaten, and rinsed her last item. But her day’s wash didn’t end there, for she next deftly took off her dress and added that to the wash. Then, unabashed, she soaped herself down and - using a calabash bowl as a ladle - knelt and poured the cooling river water over her naked body…”
When I recall those halcyon days, I recollect not one bathing figure but a bevy of bathers and I am now sorely tempted to re-create in clay that idyllic scene. Like the figures on Rodin's “Gates of Hell” the maquettes may prove to be a breeding ground for new ideas.
Today's sketch was scribbled on the first scrap of paper that came to hand as the concept was running around in my mind.
The advice from legendary jazz saxophonist Charlie Parker to aspiring musicians was: learn you instrument, practice, practice, practice - then forget all you have learnt.
The same advice holds true twice over for watercolorists striving to capture the nuances of the nude figure. If my paintings of the nude appear at times repetitive, it is because practice is repetitive. Over the course of a lifetime, I have learnt “my instrument” and in more recent years, in order to give my paintings freedom, I have strived to forget all I have learnt.
My difficulty twice over is because I can only practice from the live model: and inspirational live models are few and far between. I'm not looking for beauty queens but models, of any age, who can feel comfortable and proud in their own skin. If there's a potential new one out there, please get in touch!
Today's picture is the end result – three paintings in all - of my morning's session with my current inspirational model, Verlena.
Over the years I have had poets, musicians, ballet dancers, cashiers, street vendors, teachers and doctors as models, but this is the first time that I've pleasure of working with a talented calligrapher!
I apologize for the abysmally. low picture quality but my main computer and best camera, thanks to hurricane Maria, are out of action.
My love is of a birth so rare
As ‘tis for object strange and high;
It was begotten by Despair
Upon Impossibility.
(Andrew Marvell 1659-1678)
Like true love, the creative endeavors of artist and model are thwart with difficulties and success verges on impossibility. Inspiration is dependent on the united body and soul of both. Trying too hard induces failure more than not trying at all. Our shared Muse “laughs and flies when pressed and bidden”, as she did on my final session with Annabelle – my faithful model for six years - before she left for the States.
As can be seen in today's picture, success evaded me – albeit by a hair's breadth – and Annabelle's poignant last words were…I'm cold!
Regular followers of my diary know that my work takes me in all directions and all the more so in the aftermath of Hurricane Maria. But diversity would have been no stranger to artists of earlier times.
Currently I'm making my own paper, my own raw pigments and extracting the filaments from banana stems for spinning a thread finer than silk. You can also add, toiling with pick and shovel to make our drive motorable and with chainsaw and machete to restore the path to the river.
In between all the above I'm making a pair of shorts (after first converting our sewing machine to hand-crank - remember, no electricity). The only shorts you can buy in the Caribbean come down below the knee, whereas my concept of tropical dress is bare minimum - or better still, nothing at all!
The first picture shows earth pigments found along the river bank and the second banana filament, more precious than gold.
