"The Doctrine of Liberty" (2019 No.1, state 2), oil on canvas, 66x59.5 inches {"I believe there is a golden thread which alone gives meaning to the political history of the West, from Marathon to Alamein, from Solon to Winston Churchill and after. This I chose to call the doctrine of liberty under the law." -Anthony Sampson, "The Changing Anatomy of Britain", 1982} I make my paintings slowly, meditate my way from step to step. I do not feel deliberate intention until I am provoked by my intuition to act. It helps immensely to trust my instinct; then my work flows like a dance. I step out to rhythms and rhymes. Adjustments are made by something akin to muscle memory in a dancer. Knowing the next step reveals itself as the last step is in the act of completion. The painting, The Doctrine of Liberty, has a long way to go. My personal challenge is to find joy in the slow revelation that my painting's insist upon. This is showing up. This is work. I feel lethargy before I begin to work. At the moment I place a mark on the painting I fall from lethargy of fear to joy in action. I have begun to expect this transition. I have the courage to begin to mark, to begin to paint. Nevertheless, showing up to work has its initial moment of dread. I push through it; I begin to live! From Wikipedia regarding "pondering"... Making sense is the slow and steady knock, knock, knocking on the door of knowing. The door opens a crack, then a wider crack, and finally an opening wide enough to walk into. I can feel this happening; in both my paintings and in my drawings. Do I actually understand something more profound than I can say in words? Definitely?
"Chocorua" (2018 No.5, state 4), oil on canvas, 36x54 inches {"A substitute for all the gods, This self, not that gold self aloft, Alone, one's shadow magnified, Lord of the body, looking down, As now and called most high, The shadow of Chocorua" - Wallace Stevens, "The Man with the Blue Guitar", verse XXI} This game of art-making is simple... Just show up in the studio, make an effort to ring it true, i.e. make art that makes sense to oneself, then move on. Moving-on is not letting go, it is accepting the accumulation of knowledge; trying again to make an even more true-to-oneself image.
Yesterday both paintings shown here, Adjective and Chocorua, are better than the day before. This is me hearing (or should I say, "seeing") a bell ring true. Yesterday's drawing is more a question than an answer, or (If you prefer) it is an answer that does not fully ring true. "Chocorua" (2018 No.5, state 3), oil on canvas, 34x51 inches {"A substitute for all the gods, This self, not that gold self aloft, Alone, one's shadow magnified, Lord of the body, looking down, As now and called most high, The shadow of Chocorua" - Wallace Stevens, "The Man with the Blue Guitar", verse XXI} Reproduction be damned! I have tried for half-an-hour to make yesterday's drawing as elegant as it is in person. Nope! Viewing it here is a hazard full of the possibility of misinterpretation. Now on to my painting: Chocorua is dancing along to its own tune. Never did I see this coming. It continues to be a mystery to me how I am the conduit of the self-intelligence bred into a painting after I have begun it with my intuitive-intelligence. Maybe this is like breeding race horses. The breeder tries his damndest to get a fast one, but he gets what he gets; bless his heart if he allows it to live naturally, i.e., to blossom as it should. Maybe this me trying to make a fighting bull but I got Ferdinand* instead!
*This is a reference to "The Story of Ferdinand the Bull" by Munro Leaf & Robert Lawson: Ferdinand is the world's most peaceful--and--beloved little bull. While all of the other bulls snort, leap, and butt their heads, Ferdinand is content to just sit and smell the flowers under his favorite cork tree. Leaf's simple storytelling paired with Lawson's pen-and-ink drawings make The Story of Ferdinand a true classic. One of my favorite pieces of music is Igor Stravinsky's Circus Polka. In 1941, Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus commissioned the famed choreographer George Balanchine to write a ballet for a somewhat unconventional ensemble: fifty human dancers and fifty trained elephants. Given the freedom of selecting a composer for the the pachyderm production, Balanchine immediately turned to Igor Stravinsky. Balanchine later recounted their telephone conversation:
GB: "I wonder if you'd like to do a little ballet with me." IS: "For whom?" GB: "For some elephants." IS: "How old?" GB: "Very young." IS: "All right. If they are very young elephants, I will do it." Artistic decisions are made in many ways. Mostly through intuition; Knowing whether it is possible to accomplish the intention when presented with a media. Knowing the media causally is often the only option, but trusting one's ability to manipulate the given media is most important. Making art is a leap of faith; Faith in one's own ability. Where am I going with my great effort? Slowly I move toward realization of my deepest concerns. Art-Making, after all, is finding one's own voice, one's own manner of seeing, then swinging through the trees with glee as realization of one's intent begins to match one's intuition. I go in and out of hyper-trust of intuition. It seems natural that I must now hyper-discipline myself in order to assemble and utilize that which I have learned through intuitive trust. There is a fine balance where intuition and intellect work together to produce a product of great impact and authenticity. I am on the edge of that, but it will take discipline to get there. Yesterday's drawing was a small step. Now I must bring it to the painting that sits in front of me, 2017 No.13.
Doing this day after day has brought me trust in my instincts and in my intuition. I am going where I have never gone before. If I were not lost I would not be an explorer.
My relationship with my intuition is never easy. Yesterday's drawing speaks for itself. I constantly question the validity of my images, that is in terms of emotional and intellectual communication with my viewers. Never say never, but be self-critical. That is my procedure.
I am feeling much better about the painting 2017 No.12. So much so that I am just about to declare it finished and move on. This is difficult to do without allowing at least one day for intuitive differences of opinion. I think this is today.
I have been struggling recently with the creep of figuration. It is returning to my work. I struggle because I get conflicted because of my desire to animate compositions based upon the purity inherent in non-representational composition. The force of the principles of art carry a painting when no representation is present. When representation is present a secondary layer of viewer engagement occurs. Purity of form, color, composition, linear movement, and the artifice of light, begin to compete with an involvement that is reference to the real world of figures and representational forms. Yesterday I heard a short interview with Morton Feldman. Feldman was an American composer (1926-1987). He continues to be a major figure in contemporary classical music. Feldman was a pioneer of indeterminate music, a development associated with the experimental New York School of composers, which included John Cage, Christian Wolff, and Earle Brown. Feldman's works are characterized by notational innovations that he developed to create his characteristic sound: rhythms that seem to be free and floating; pitch shadings that seem softly unfocused; a generally quiet and slowly evolving music; recurring asymmetric patterns. His later works, after 1977, also begin to explore extremes of duration. Feldman's music is incredibly fascinating to me. This goes to my self-query in regard to purity in composition. Ultimately, I follow my intuition. I am not going to intellectually rule out figurative and representational if its creep into my art continues. Morton Feldman said he could not help himself, even though critics found his work difficult to comprehend. Mostly, critics found listening to Feldman's music an intellectual chore. Is this the same guy? New beginnings are mysterious, sometimes bold, sometimes conservative and retrospective. Me? I just plug along, follow the deep. There is nothing more to say. Looking is more revelatory than my words.
|
To read my profile go to MEHRBACH.com.
At MEHRBACH.com you may view many of my paintings and drawings, past and present, and see details about my life and work. Archives
May 2024
|