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Fire       Water       Earth       AirÂ
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Ostensibly made obsolete by the progress of modern science, as allegorical symbols I think these elements are as relevant now as they always have been.Â
In the Aviator’s Dream painting the feathers contain the idea of air, but they are in the shape of the water element: they are there for Icarus, who transforms from an intrepid but foolish winged flyer into a drowning man. Â
During the open studio tour yesterday someone from Albania asked me about the symbolism in my paintings, pointing at a variety of objects and figures and questioning me in some detail about what they meant. At first I found this experience rather strange, as I seldom get the chance to really talk about my work with people who get engaged in it (perhaps that’s why writing this blog has become something of an obsession, as it offers an opportunity to explain). Artists make things, place them in a gallery and seldom engage their audience in person, unless they choose to seek them out. In this instance explaining the paintings to the Albanian lady reminded me of the journey of the last six years, remembering each work as a milestone of personal discovery and occasional revelation. It struck me that some things that seem obvious to me are really not at all clear to people who “weren’t there at the time”.
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The “Reluctant Death of Modernism” caused some lengthy discussion with this Albanian visitor about pregnancy and expectation which was quite unexpected. She saw only the exoteric expression of a woman who didn’t seem altogether happy with her pregnancy. I’ve always thought the symbolism of this piece was quite self-evident compared to the more arcane qualities of some of the other works. The pregnant model stands in a desert landscape (actually Death Valley, near the dunes) next to a crushed Campbell’s soup can and some bones. Clearly it has a lot to do with post-modernism and modernism and the end of the twentieth century. She’s pregnant because the art world is expecting a new age. I don’t suppose that this new age will happen overnight, but it seems self evident that post-modernism is running out of steam.
The idea of a nascent new age of romantic idealism in art appeals to me.
The landscape of dreams and fantastic imagined worlds with a mystical appeal together with the satisfaction of good craftsmanship and a narrative combine to take me away from the unpleasantness of our contemporary world. Imagination and idealism are the antidotes to post-modern skepticism and negativity.
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The great black bird hunt continues. I haven’t seen any ravens at the University, so I hope to find some in the national forest lands near our home.Â
I did manage to catch this guy in a tree, looking disdainfully down at me. He seemed to be quite content to sit up high in the branches, swaying quite violently in the strong wind as he watched over his territory, then swooping off to a new spot.
The great advantage of the studio tour day was that it tied me to the easel for the entire day. It was really nice to hang out with Larkin for the day too.Â
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I got plenty of work done to the painting, darkening the sky and ocean with a deep dark blue and green respectively. I spent a long time simply looking at the work and figuring out the compositional problem of the bottom edge and the right hand corner below and to the right of the feathers. The rock surface still bothers me, so I extended it all the way over to the left so that it echoes the shape of the clouds and the island. I intend to paint ivy over the surfaces of the rock in the foreground and in some of the clefts further back. I’m curious about how close to the figure it will grow, perhaps tendrils of it might even creep onto her as she is caught in her dream.
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As a painting progresses I find I spend more and more time looking and working out what needs to happen to it in my mind’s eye. By the time I get to the end sometimes I’ll sit for as long as an hour or so simply observing the piece for problems and areas that need more or less detail.Â
Today is the day!
Come and visit the open studios of artists living and working in Thousand Oaks. The tour begins at the Kavli theatre on Thousand Oaks Blvd. Start by viewing a large exhibit of works by the participating artists, then visit the studios of your choice.
I’ll be working in my space at the University with my colleague Larkin Higgins. Come and join us, see our work, chat and enjoy!
There are four places to visit on campus: the Kwan Fong gallery (for the senior students’ show), K2 (Larkin and I), and the A Building, where watercolourist Terry Spehar Fahey and internationally renowned sculptor Lynn Creighton have their spaces.
We have provided maps in the gallery and signs to point the way.
Our search for these birds is now bordering on the obsessive. When we look for them we can never find them, and when we spot them we never have a camera ready. My daughter is in on the search with me. Equally fanatical, she pursues each flitting shadow with a zoom lens.
Once in a while I’ll see one that likes to sit up on top of a lamp post, seeking out morsels to eat. He’s very observant, doesn’t miss a thing.
I don’t think I have ever really considered how ubiquitous these animals are; perhaps because they are everywhere we don’t pay attention to them, but aren’t they just like the wolves or coyotes of the sky? They’re really serious scavenging animals. Some of them get really big, like the four footer we saw a couple of days ago in the park.
I’ve learned that the raven is probably the most intelligent bird, that it can fly upside down, do rolls and somersaults in the air, and likes to steal sheep’s wool for nest lining.Â
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The flower field. First layer of flowers over two layers of preparatory painting.Â
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The rose in the box, second layer.
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Three floating feathers forming a triangle. Â
A productive day.  We have a beautiful rose garden next to our chapel here at the CLU campus. so I shot some close up pictures yesterday as reference material for the rose in the box. In the studio this morning I worked on laying in some darker and lighter areas to give it some shape, tricky because most of it is concealed, but most necessary to make it identifiable as a rose.Â
The rock got a layer of black to darken the surface highlights and make the box pop more, then I added a hundred daisy flowers onto the ground, which will get even more treatment soon, once the cadmium and naples yellows and titanium white paint has dried. Like many newly painted things, these flowers look pretty bright right now, and the next layer of green on the ground will go over them and get wiped off, leaving a tiny amount of green in the dips of the surface that will duplicate the reflected light upon everything we see, softening the edges and bringing the flowers into their surroundings.
I added three feathers on the right side to clear the void there and draw the eye back to the aviator. They have fallen from Icarus’ wings (somehow they have transported themselves through space to float beside the aviator). They form a triangle.
The island has golden highlights on its top edge now, suggesting buildings. Â
Where’s the photo of the painting? I forgot my camera, so I’ll have to post it tomorrow. Â
I’m participating in the Thousand Oaks open Studio Tour this Saturday. If you’d enjoy visiting the studio where I work and have a chance to see my work in reality, please do come over and visit. You’ll find me in the K2 building at CLU (building 33 on this clever map).
The tour starts at the Kavli theatre gallery in Thousand Oaks, Ca. at 9.30 am, where you can see the work of over forty artists. From there you can follow a map to the studios of your choice.Â
I’ll have several of my biggest paintings on display.Â
