Tame in comparison to Rodin

Today’s image shows work in progress on my torso of Marcella. Despite all of my efforts to resist finish, it is tame beside how Camille Lemonnier (1844-1913), Belgian, writer, poet and journalist, describes one of Rodin’s sculptures:

At the Maison d’Art there is a torso that seems to have been spewed out from the furnaces of Gomorrah. It has been savagely torn and splayed the way a fissure in the earth cracks open, as though a crucible were exploding in its depths...

Ennui

Ennui: a mental weariness due to lack of interest or occupation.  

Between painting, sculpture, engineering and suggesting improvements to the island’s sewage treatment plant, that’s one affliction that I don’t have!

My return to sculpture has been enthusiastically received by my models. In addition to Marcella’s torso I am now preparing for a reclining figure of Annabelle. Here is the preliminary sketch together with a sheet of measurements that will help me build up the initial clay form before we begin modelling in earnest.

Today is Annabelle’s birthday and it also marks four years that she has been my ever faithful model. This, one of her favourite paintings, is her present.  

Before it’s too late

Ten years ago I wrote: I now want to give my sculptures the freedom of my sketches.

Before it’s too late, I want to achieve that objective. With that in mind I have begun work on a life size torso in which the model has her hands clasped behind her back. I will resist defining goose-bumps and instead allow the clay to remain as a suggestive sketch.  

The picture below is of the belly down to the thighs. It was taken after the first modelling session and I am resisting refining it further. An earlier charcoal sketch of a similar pose gives you an idea of what I am after in the final form.

The difference being

For every nude that is depicted in paint there must be ten thousand photographed. Unless a new generation of artists take courage and work with the nude, beyond the life class, I fear that we will lose a thread that has been there throughout history.

I say this, not to demean the work of the fine art photographer but to draw attention to the differences between the two. Regardless of how the photographic image is manipulated it retains an inherent definitive resemblance and to use a darkroom term, it is “fixed”. In contrast, a painting can leave a lot to the imagination and invite the viewer to contribute to the creative process.

To illustrate my point I have delved back into my archives for this photograph that was posted on May 29^th 2011 under the title “This way or that”.

Now compare the photograph with a recent painting posted on March 24^th 2016 under the title “Improvisations”. The models are different (the photograph is of my wife Denise and the painting is of my model Annabelle) but the pose almost is the same!

From one extreme to another

Just as Leonardo da Vinci was distracted from painting in his old age by being called upon for his engineering expertise, the greater part of my week has been spent as an engineer making improvements to the island’s sewage treatment plant.   

But this afternoon, with the help of my ever faithful model Annabelle, I went from one extreme to another and painted with a vengeance. As always, I leave space for you the viewer to contribute your share to the creative process. Annabelle’s judgement, sent by a text message on her way home, reads as follows:

While I slept you got three paintings…you are awesome!

Here is painting number three; a 20” x 16” water colour thrown down in the last fifteen minutes of the session.

Sprezzatura

Definition: Sprezzatura…A certain nonchalance that makes art appear to be without thought or effort.

E. H. Gombrich’s book Art & Illusion is a definitive study in the psychology of pictorial representation. The book has sat on my shelf for years but only recently have I given it the in-depth attention that it deserves. In particular the book delves into my obsession of suggestion rather than definition.

I quote:

It is an art in which the painter’s skill in suggesting must be matched by the public’s skill in taking hints. The literal-minded Philistine is excluded from this closed circle. He does not understand the magic of “sprezzatura” because he has not learned to use his own imagination to project. He lacks the appropriate mental set to recognize in the loose brushstrokes of a ‘careless work’ the images intended by the artist; least of all is he able to appreciate the secret skill and cunning which hide behind this lack of finish.

One of my paintings of Jessica from two years ago illustrates the point. It took seventy-three years of thought and effort for it to appear to be without thought or effort. 

Faded photographs

Faded photographs…memories in bits and pieces

My brother has just posted a photograph of me on his blog, http://newsfromnowhere1948.blogspot.com/ and wonders, by way of an open letter, if I remember it being taken.

Well, I sure do. It is of me painting fishing boats at Ballyhack on the Waterford Estuary in Southern Ireland. The year is 1972.  I still have the painting and here it is along with the photograph.

Once in a while

Search as I might, I seldom find a new talent in painting that really turns me on. But once in a while I find a refreshingly new talent in jazz. 

Just when I was thinking that there will never be another Sarah Vaughan, this young lady comes along.

Every one of Cecile McLorin Salvant’s recordings is a masterpiece. I selected this particular video track because I am attracted to work in progress; in this case a recording session. Credit is also due to her remarkable trio.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BmQbC5TYFM4

Incidentally, the song is from Finian's Rainbow and the lyrics are equally masterful.

Against all odds

Mosquitoes and failing light conspired against me. But even under the best of circumstances, a successful water-colour is accomplished against all odds. The unintentional contributes more than the intentional. Without a mosquito to swat, the model's hand would not have been positioned across her thigh. And it is around the hand that the composition revolves.

As always, I’m working on a large scale (20” x 16”) and my washes are thrown down in a matter of minutes.  

The sweet enchantment of a rose

He who has known the heights and depths,

Cannot again know piece.

Not as the calm heart knows;

Low ivied walls, a garden close,

The sweet enchantment of a rose.

As I sit pondering the vicissitudes of working from the live model, I glance from my studio, a rose.

If only I could have remained content with painting landscapes and townscapes, how much easier life would be. Flowers, trees and buildings are there at my calling, whereas sessions with my muse - my model - have to be scheduled in advance.

One of my most faithful muses is presently working a seventy hour week at her day job. The only advantage of her heavy work schedule is that when she can fit in a fit a modelling session, she instantly falls asleep. For an hour I can paint without concern for her comfort, as she’s obviously very comfortable.

But for today, I have to content myself with the sweet enchantment of the rose.

A thousand words

To make up the worth of a picture here are a thousand words.

I wrote this commentary last October in response to a University of the West Indies lecture by Professor Hazel Simmons-McDonald. The speaker highlighted the importance of the Creole language in terms of preserving Dominica’s cultural identity.  Whilst supporting a case for preserving the Creole language - and by extension Creole dance, music and dress - I consider that one significant aspect of Dominica’s cultural identity is being largely ignored: that being, the built environment.

Throughout life we are confronted with man-made surroundings.  Increasingly, our houses, offices and public buildings reflect a foreign influence.  Their design and material of construction does not relate to the local environment.  Regimented housing is replacing scattered settlements.  Hence, Dominica’s visible identity is being eroded.  It follows that the individuality of places reflects the individuality of ourselves. 

Villages and townships tend to grow of their own accord over a long period of time.  There was seldom a pre-determined master plan.  The people and their dwellings fitted into the topography of the land: they had to, because in earlier times there was no heavy earth moving equipment to make significant changes.  When these settlements are viewed from the air or on a map, it seems that our forefathers had a great contempt of straight lines and regularity!   

It is the higgledy-piggledy nature of these country communities that gives them their distinctive appearance and attributes.  Not least of these attributes is yard space.  Dominica’s sparse population in relation to landmass allows yard space that is the envy of city dwellers throughout the rest of the world.  The yard is the family’s domain.  It acts as outdoor extension to the house and a breathing space between neighbours.

Dominica has all the natural resources to sustain and promote a vernacular built environment.  What is needed is the revival of necessary skills.  Take a look at the old wrought iron balcony supports in Roseau and compare them with the shoddy welded fabrications of today.  A skilled craftsman cannot be trained in six weeks, let alone six years.  It is not just a case of wielding a hammer or pushing a plane, it is the accumulation of knowledge that is handed down from father to son.  The great cathedrals from the past were not designed at the drawing board by architects but by craftsman at the workbench. Thus, the craftsman’s eye becomes a gauge to measure beauty by.

The built environment is particularly relevant at this point in time.  Tropical Storm Erika has destroyed whole villages and displaced hundreds of families.  Just as you cannot easily uproot a tree that has been growing for a lifetime and re-plant it in a new location; the same difficulty applies to re-settling a community of people.  It is one thing to re-locate one by one, in one’s own time and inclination, be it to the next village or to a foreign land.  But it is quite another for whole communities to be faced with an unforeseen immediate need to move and leave everything behind.

But a community is not made up of houses alone.  Numerous other elements are needed to sustain life. They range from church to rum shop and from school to the village store.  Not least is the means of employment and preferably employment within walking distance from home.  In the past these elements came together of their own accord over a period of time.  To instantly plan a township is an art form in itself.  Interestingly, the man who wrote the definitive book on the subject began his working life in the Caribbean.  The book, The Concise Townscape by Gordon Cullen, should be required reading by all involved in the re-settlement initiative.  Another book that has relevance, is News from Nowhere by William Morris.  His vision of utopia was set down over a hundred years ago and deemed to be “pie in the sky”.   However, at this point in time, the book could be considered as a viable blue-print for Dominica.

Incidentally, it is interesting to speculate how Dominican’s would have coped with the aftermath of the storm had it occurred eighty years ago.  I suspect that every man, woman and child would have immediately started re-building with the resources at hand, albeit initially thatch and gaultry.  In doing so they would have been putting into practice a line from Rudyard Kipling’s poem “If”:

                     If you can…watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

                     And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

In all of this I am not advocating that we return to the dark ages.  As an engineer I embrace technology and as an artist, I believe that all work should be creative and pleasurable.  Equally, our man-made environment should reflect our individuality and be pleasing to the eye, whether it be the chair we sit upon or the house we live in. 

The re-building from Tropical Storm Erika could be a first step towards the restatement of Dominica’s visible cultural identity and in turn set a benchmark for the rest of the Caribbean. 

I can't leave you without a picture, so to illustrate the above here is a drawing from my book “Caribbean Sketches”

Ineligible Art

An art organization in the United States is currently calling for submissions that depict the urban landscape. I don’t normally go in for this kind of thing but I thought: what the heck, the prize is tempting.

On delving into my past portfolios I found a painting that I made twenty years ago of Barclay’s Bank, Halifax, UK. It was exhibited along with 30 other paintings and drawings on the theme of my old home town. It didn’t sell then and it has had no better luck the second time around. 

I have just been informed that my painting is ineligible; not because the subject, but because of the artist. I am not resident in the United States!

Improvisations

My approach to painting is akin to that of a jazz musician. I work around a known theme, more often than not, the nude human form. As with a lover, my paintings are not meant to reveal all their secrets at the first glance. I paint 70% of the picture; the rest is up to you to interpret in whatever way you choose.

Today’s painting of Annabelle was completed in about the time it took Sarah Vaughan to develop similar subtle nuances in her recording of My Funny Valentine.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dntaJEqH9IM

The detail illustrates how lines and washes respond if given freedom

Super awesome

My task as an artist is to arouse others, in the hope that they arouse me.

When excitement takes hold, the viewer’s response is usually couched in simple and direct language. I’ve had a conservative businessman confess that he was gob-smacked on first seeing my work. Wow is a frequent exclamation and a confession of love is a close second.

A couple of days ago when I suggested to one of my models the possibility of modelling for a piece of sculpture, her e-mailed response was, OMG that sounds super awesome. Yes, I’d love to do that.

For almost two years I’ve put sculpture on a slow back burner and kept my paintings up front on the fast burner. My water colours are spontaneous whereas a piece of sculpture takes months to come to fruition.

While I ponder over the super awesome possibility of returning to my work as a sculptor, I’ll leave you with a recent painting of Tashani.

Vagina don’t come cheap

A pitfall that I am anxious to avoid was summed up by the poet Dylan Thomas when he wrote: Somebody’s boring me. I think it’s me. 

My concern is not so much boring myself but boring those who view my work. After all, the nude is the nude is the nude, and there’s limit to the ways my models can stand, sit, recline or whatever.

A number of my models are accomplished poets and this evening some will be on stage for my friend Shawna’s poetry extravaganza, Lyrics under the Stars. It was from one of Shawna’s shows a couple of years ago that I take my title. It is Karmarsha’s brilliant poem that gives advice to young ladies and cautions young men. From that you might guess that this evening’s performances will be anything but boring.

If you think that I’m in danger of jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire, I’ll stop right there. But for once I’ll skip painting and illustrate this page with a photograph I took of the frying pan that cooked my daughter’s breakfast omelet a couple of mornings ago. 

Groping towards the light

Most people grope in the dark but my groping is done in the light, with my eyes and mind wide open. 

What I am looking for are new ways to suggest the beauty of the nude. My task is made all the more difficult through two self-imposed limitations: first, working large format in watercolour and second, capturing my subject in a matter of minutes. The only way that I can break through to new ground is by covering a lot of ground: hence, painting after painting. The adage holds true: if it was any easier everyone would do it, if it was any more difficult no one would!

The fact that an ever increasing number of followers throughout the world stay with me, year in, year out, at least means that my attempts are not boring them to death.

The paintings below are from yesterday’s sessions, the first in the morning with Tashani, the second in the afternoon with Annabelle.  

A Revolution in Human Beauty

The latest release from modelsociety.com carries these words by Lisa Everhart

All around the world a revolution is brewing, one born in the heart, carried forward by the longing of the human spirit in search of truth. The models, photographers and artists of Model Society are fueling this revolution of honoring the humanity of all people as intrinsically beautiful. Creative minds help us wake up from fear and prejudice as they compel us to look within and see ourselves in a new light. To the artist who dreams of a more beautiful world, there is no choice but to stand for what is right, good and unalienable.

We invite you to cast aside your fears and prejudices, opening your heart to the miraculous beauty of humanity. Reclaim your experience of human beauty. See yourself as a work of art, and join us in this revolution.

The vision of Model Society heralds a renaissance in the appreciation of the human figure.  True to the meaning and spirit of renaissance, it is a re-birth.  Centuries ago artists and sculptors paid homage to the beauty of the human form.

Today’s picture is of a relief on the balustrade round the Temple of Victory in Athens.  It dates from 408 BC and depicts one of the goddesses momentarily stooping to fasten a loosened sandal.  Although sadly mutilated, the figure that is revealed beneath gossamer drapery remains as sensual today as when it was conceived.   

Doing what comes naturally

If artists make love with the same restraint that the majority paint pictures, it must be a boring business. And theory doesn’t help. On the other hand, passion definitely does.

In the days when I painted landscapes, I waxed lyrical about the view. Now that I work with the figure I wax lyrical about the model. Just as I allow my watercolour washes the freedom to do what comes naturally, so must the model throw off all restraint. The formal pose offers nothing to get excited about. Gay abandonment is more inspiring than decorum. It’s the relaxed stretch that makes the picture and makes my day.

In today’s painting Ryta’s braids nicely went with the flow.

My Carnival Cow

Countless years ago, for the British Virgin Island Carnival, I made a cow. It was on the lines of the pantomime horse, with one person in front and one behind. The inventive streak was centered at the tail end. When the man in the rear pressed a plunger the tail lifted and my cow sprayed the onlookers. A full tube of yellow ochre water colour went towards that good cause.

My idea of carnival has matured since those days and I am now drawn towards the lovely rather than the lewd. If you consider that my love of the Rio Carnival contradicts that statement, so be it!

The first of today’s pictures is from this year’s Rio Carnival and the second from an island that will remain nameless. I leave you to judge which is the lovely and which is the lewd.

From following to anticipating

Art historians often refer to an artist as being a follower. More rarely, they refer to an artist as anticipating a future trend. I began by following the impressionists but perhaps historians will judge my more recent work as anticipating what may come after my time.

As a viewer I want to be seduced, not mentally challenged. I want to love an artist’s work rather than find it interesting. When falling in love intelligence doesn’t come into it, but seduction certainly does.

I am determined to seduce by subtle suggestion rather than dreary definition or by taxing your brain. To that end, today’s image is a detail from my painting of the reclining torso.

Having said that, I am more likely to be remembered, as the poet Robert Service (Songs of a Sourdough, etc.) considered would be his fate:

                I fancy my grave digger griping,

                As he gives my last lodging a pat.

                He wrote Dan McGrew,

                ‘Twas the best he could do.

                So I’ll go to my maker with that.

Architects, engineers and poets

I quote from Sir Herbert Read on the subject of the Renaissance:

Besides admiring great artistic inspiration, Renaissance society also held the ideal of the “universal” or “many-sided” man – skilled in every art, well read in the classics and an able scientist, engineer, courtier, soldier, etc.

While I cannot claim to be courtier or soldier, I can add most other attributes. But in these days of specialization, my many sided endeavors are usually met with a rather derogatory: Jack of All Trades.

Without painters, sculptors and artisans, our architectural heritage would be sadly deficient. And without my engineering expertise many mechanical devices here in Dominica would be at a standstill. 

On a painterly note, my last session with Annabelle broke the mold of the last painting being the best.  I am equally pleased with the second painting shown below. Annabelle’s zany hair-do gave me an excuse for extra scribbles.

Improvisation

On the subject of improvisation, the painter Paul Klee (1879 – 1940) had this to say:

“…nature has been transformed by the richness of the artist’s instincts.  Improvisation plays an important part: the work of art is allowed, like a doodle, to follow its own evolution, subconsciously guided by the artist rather than consciously controlled.” 

How true that statement applies to freedom of water colour, and all the more so when the subject is the endless variations of the nude. When working from life, two forces come into play, the painter and the model, and they thrive off each other. Then the miracle of evolution happens, as it did in this afternoon’s session with Annabelle. 

Above is a 20” x 16” twenty minute painting from the session and below is a detail.  

Boys on the Beach

Today’s sketch dates from 1989, the year that the figurative began to be the main theme of my work.  Islanders relaxing on the beach gave me the practice I needed in capturing the fleeting figure in a matter of seconds.  Scores of these sketches laid the foundation for future work. 

I am more likely to part with a painting than with a sketch.  As English landscape painter John Constable (1776-1837) said, I don't mind parting with the corn, but not with the field in which it was raised.

But there are exceptions.  And one such exception happened a few days ago when a wonderful Canadian couple, Helen and Peter Bunn, visited my studio.  I am proud to say that my sketch Boys on the Beach is now part of their collection.

Don’t Put Your Daughter on the Stage Mrs. Worthington

If Noel Coward were to give advice to a present day Mrs. Worthington it could well be, don’t send your daughter off on an arts degree course.  As much as I encourage talented students to pursue art, a Master’s Degree does not necessarily related to artistic ability. The only art paper qualification of real worth, is that upon which there is a good drawing. 

The painting below outshines the work of many of those that have an MA in art. It was painted by my daughter Tania when she was three years old. Regardless of fatherly pride, I nevertheless took Noel Coward’s advice and she’s now doing very well in sales and marketing. 

Incidentally, another of my daughters is a chartered accountant. Goodness only knows how I of all people brought chartered accountants and marketing executives into the world.  Where did I go wrong!

While you muse on that one, enjoy Tania’s painting to the stains of Noel Coward at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lt7FvKkgl7o   

Freedom vs. constraint

If the medium of water colour could speak, it would surely say: for God’s sake, set me free! By its very nature water colour defies control.  A thunderous wash has a mind of its own and invariably runs run amok. This attribute attests to the saying, that a water colour can’t go right until it has gone wrong. Why then, do the vast majority of painters do their utmost to restrain the medium’s most valuable asset? Moreover, why do they paint from sterile photographic references, rather than life itself?

To illustrate the virtue of freedom, I have taken a detail from a painting I made over twenty years ago of the pregnant nude. My wife Denise was the model and the verse is from my poem The Colour Black.

                Bold washes from her shoulders run

                To trace the curve of her spine,

                Elsewhere they accumulate

                To hide a forested secret that’s mine.

Modelling isn’t easy

I am forever searching for a model that is not a model and a pose that is not a pose. It is easier to find the regular concept of beauty than it is to find the everyday figure that I need for my work. Equally, it is difficult to get everyday figures to be themselves. It can take weeks before the two of us, artist and model, are able to sing from the same hymn sheet. Modelling for the kind of beauty that I want to portray isn’t easy! Mind you, the end result is worth all the failures along the way.

True to form, this was the last of three paintings that I made of Tashani yesterday and hurriedly thrown down in the last 15 minutes of the session.

Last but not least

I seem to be making a habit of making the final painting of a session the best. It is in the last few minutes that both model and artist put aside restraints and take a chance.  My model inspires and miraculously lines and washes fall into place. Thank you Ryta for making the session exceptional. 

Once again the computer screen reduces a 16" x 20" water colour to the size of a postcard and so much is lost.  Hence the detail below...and even that is small in comparison to the original. Rather than a reduced image, it is more effective to enlarge to the size of a cinema screen.  Then one discovers paintings with paintings.

To push on with passion

Today’s title is taken from one of Vincent Van Gogh’s letters to his brother Theo and it can stand as my New Year’s resolution.

Once again I have to thank my models for their part in the creative process. The Christmas messages that they sent me spoke touchingly of their commitment and belief in my work.  I can add to that a five word message from a model in the States that reads: I just love your work!

I’ll open the New Year with the painting that earned the above response.  It dates from 2010 and the model is my wife Denise.

Every child is an artist

Picasso claimed that it took him four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child.  He also maintained:  Every child is an artist.  The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up. 

Last year the Achievement Learning Centre, a school for children who learn differently, asked me to paint a mural along their school wall.  Regardless of my reservations about community murals (see my diary page for 17^th October 2015) I was willing to help.  However, emergencies meant that, for my part, the project had to be postponed. 

Me stepping aside was the best thing that ever happened, because a few weeks ago the children themselves created the mural.  And let me tell you, it is a hundred times better than anything I could have done!  Red Mango Studios deserve credit for their role in directing the project.

Here are just two of 14 paintings that make up the mural.  

I

Incidentally, Shallah is the six year old daughter of my model Jessica.  Whereas I am dyslexic, Shallah is autistic.  Hence, we both have similar abilities!

Well done children, I’m proud of you…and I’m sure that Picasso would have been equally impressed.