For those of us that toil upon the forge of art, physical social distancing has always been part and parcel of our work. It has been so for centuries before the corona virus and it will remain so for centuries after. We work in isolation.
It is an aspect of the visual arts that art colleges overlook; the master/apprentice relationship came closer to the mark. While some artists yearn for an environment of like minds, art communes do not breed artists. Creative minds are not alike. The same applies to poets and writers.
Working as a painter and sculptor on a small island in the Caribbean adds to the isolation. With the exception of working from the model, I go days without seeing a soul. Even the occasional one and a half hour modelling session hardly qualifies as social intercourse. For the most part we work in silence and at a distance of eight feet between the model's turntable and the work in progress.
So while the rest of the world struggles to adapt to social distancing, for me it is what I have always known. I am told that even as a child I always wanted the beach to myself. This is not to say that I don't welcome visitors. I do with open arms. But all the better if they've arranged their visit beforehand so that I can put time aside for them.
The photographs were taken from my studio this morning: one looking towards the solitary Caribbean Sea and the other looking down to the river and my solitary bathing pool.
No comments:
Post a Comment