Accepting the Stranger

One of the largest obstacles we face as artists is our limiting belief system regarding art. We say we are constantly striving to become “better” artists and we often approach this task by rejecting work that doesn’t appeal to us and seeking out art that reinforces our idea of what is good, what is to be emulated in our own work.

I met a young man the other day, probably around 16 years old. When his mother learned that I was an artist, she remarked that her son had talent but that he had run into a couple of art teachers that had discouraged him and that now he hardly drew at all anymore. Our first instinct is to condemn the insensitive art teacher, but my first thought was “well, if that is all it took to deter him, he might as well find another profession, for he is certainly going to run into more obstacles than a few discouraging teachers.” But of course, I didn’t say that. As a teacher myself, I was curious. After talking with the young man a while, I discovered the same blocks that subvert us all. He had already decided that he “knew” how and what he wanted to draw and didn’t want teachers telling him what to do. He was more than likely afraid of potential failure if he tried out the unfamiliar, the risk was too great. In reality, I am sure the teachers saw some raw talent that would have benefited from some rudimentary exercises that would continue to improve his drawing skills. They wanted to give him more tools, perhaps some color theory, maybe a few projects he didn’t find instantly pleasing or relevant for what he had already determined was important for him. At 16 he had already closed the door to what was foreign to him, the risky unknown. He had already limited his ideas to his narrow definition of what “he” liked to do. But I say that to limit ourselves to what we like is extremely limiting. I love it when people remark, “I don’t know much about art, but I know what I like” because the truth of that statement is really “I like what I know” and in reality I “know very little”. We can only expand what we know by inviting the stranger in. The more we open ourselves to the unknown, the more we discover there is to know, and that takes a certain amount of courage.

When we were infants, we responded to the familiar: our mothers face, a favorite blanket, or a favorite food. We loved it because it was familiar and comfortable. We rejected the things we didn’t like because we didn’t understand their potential value, they were foreign. Surely this analogy can be extended into many areas of life. It is a handicap we all share and I am no exception. We all like what we know, it is comfortable. In art, we recognize something that we have been taught is “good” or we have seen and appreciated before perhaps in a “master” work. But the flip side of that is that we often condemn what we don’t recognize – what is foreign and unfamiliar to our senses. The paradoxical nature of being an artist, a creator, is that we are often in search of the new. In fact, every great movement in art or artist that has endured 100 years after deceasing to exist discovered something new that was at first rejected because it was unfamiliar. People “liked what they knew” and on the flip side, hated what they didn’t recognize.

In Jonah Lehrer’s book “Proust was a Neuroscientist” he has a chapter about Igor Stravinsky. He talks about the first time that his music for the ballet “The Rite of Spring” was performed. Stravinsky wanted to create a “new” sound, one unfamiliar to his audience. One that challenged the way they thought about music, one that didn’t simply pander to the audience’s expectations. As the music began to build with clashing tensions and merciless momentum the audience began to scream and a riot ensued. They couldn’t bear the unfamiliar. They rejected the noise that was pretending to be music. According to Lehrer, “for the audience, Stravinsky’s new work was the sound of remorseless originality”. The crowd was expecting more of the familiar. “With The Rite Stravinsky had announced that it was time we learned something new”.

This is the take away. Our minds are more like plastic than stone, we can adapt to new ideas, we can accept the stranger in and eventually he may become an old familiar friend. In the case of music, neuroscience now knows that “our sense of sound is a work in progress. Neurons in the auditory cortex are constantly being altered by the songs and symphonies we listen to. Nothing is difficult forever”. I would extend this analogy to all art. We expect certain color harmonies, patterns, etc. We are taught to recognize the ones that are “pleasing”. When we come across an artist that challenges these norms, we revolt; it goes against everything we “know”. Eventually, given time, if we are willing to engage with the stranger we may see the innovation and learn to appreciate a new way of seeing.

So, what I hope to inspire, is that when we are faced with a new idea about art, or we see someone that has created something we don’t understand, or we are given advice by an instructor that just feels incredibly foreign – we can learn to suspend judgment. We can instead try it on for a while, let it sink in and simmer. It may never resonate or it may at some unexpected point in time cause us to say “aha, now I see”. To condemn the foreign is to shut the door to potentially expanding what we “like”. We must accept that our definition of art is always growing and expanding. Growth in this field depends on letting in ideas that may undermine our current beliefs. Beliefs are limiting and continuing to reinforce them will only limit the potential of art. The more we allow in, the more choices we have which in turn can make the decision process more difficult, but it is through the difficult choices that the largest reward comes.

Now, the catch, the more we expand and discover, the less familiar our work will become to others. Our work may become unpopular as fewer and fewer people have journeyed the same path as you so fewer will recognize anything familiar. Always remember that popular art certainly doesn’t equate with good, meaningful art, but it sure makes us feel good when we are popular! When our work becomes less popular, our self-esteem may plummet as well. But not if we remind ourselves that people “like what they know”. Hopefully people will take the time to get to know your work, and when given the opportunity we can help educate them. If one is sincere, and continues to work in a heart felt meaningful way, there will always be those that will recognize that sincerity, we must just be patient.

Thank you Peter

It has been a week since I returned from an art workshop held at Kripalu in Western MA. and the experience is still sinking in. This workshop was unlike any “art” workshop I have ever attended and has had a powerful impact on my art and thinking. There was no talk on technique, there were no “how to” lessons, for that would be “second hand” information, and Peter London, the workshop leader wrote the book “No More Second Hand Art”. The workshop centered on connecting to the larger experience of being in the natural world. We as artists attempt in our most sincere efforts to channel this experience and he hoped to facilitate us on our journey. One of the most difficult ideas in this workshop was allowing the work to “be” without aesthetic judgment. This is the topic I would like to further explore in this blog post.

At the workshop, we were asked, that when speaking with others about their work, to “just listen to each other without judgment and with great patience. Don’t listen to try to understand. It is an open place for them to continue their struggle.” We were just to be present to each other as they strove to create something new, to honor their struggle. The crux of the workshop was about seeing and responding to something in nature as if for the first time and to resist the temptation to just recapitulate some previous idea of what art is supposed to look like. We were not to create replica’s of the thing in order to display our technical proficiency, but respond and create something new that had an “is” of it’s own and pointed to nothing outside of itself. Peter warned that the danger of giving even well intended critical aesthetic input is that the new thing will retreat to be replaced by old “respected” methods. We were begged to “stop judging, because what you hear or see may not be all there is – you are only getting the surface.” I witnessed this phenomenon over and over again. There were many people in this group that were not what one would consider traditionally skilled at the craft of art-making, many had had little formal training. Yet they made their marks with honesty and when they experienced the world truthfully and set aside their fears of technical inadequacy they produced work as meaningful as the most skilled among us. To judge the work merely on its visual accuracy would have been to miss the point. But I think the most important line in this direction was when Peter said, “the thing will notice it is being judged and it will disappear and you will become your old self.” Aha. The critic I need to avoid is really the one always with me – me! That revelation only came to me yesterday. If I want to birth new marks and expressions into being, I have to prepare an accepting reception. I have to stop judging it and just trust that through the process, if I make each mark in a heartfelt and meaningful way – something “other” will come into being; something that isn’t only a description of the external, but the internal and potentially a reflection of the eternal. Another favorite line was “Sometimes you come so close to your heart, you touch all hearts.” Isn’t that what I want to do as an artist? In order to do this, I need to remain open and vulnerable to the creative process. Stop judging or fearing the judgment of others lest I scare the potential away and retreat to the safety of my tried and true methods. I have glimpsed an opportunity for real discovery now I am hoping I can retain my trust in the process, thank you Peter.

Subjective vs. Objective

We often say that the value and merit of a work of art is subjective. That there is no real way to objectively discern a good painting from a not so good painting, that it is just a matter of opinion and unfortunately there are plenty of people willing to freely give theirs. Objective truth is a truth that exists independent of thought or an observer. This is the sort of truth that Cezanne was speaking of when he told Emile Bernard that the next time he spoke with him he would explain to him the truth in painting. Unfortunately, Cezanne died before he was able to convey that truth. Still, the notion that there is a truth in art is a question that has plagued many philosophers and sages much wiser than I. But back to the question, is Art subjective or objective? I believe that what is subjective is the knowledge of the critic or observer. I believe as Cezanne did, that the work, if done sincerely has an objective integrity and truth. It is the viewer that is often flawed by his own limited perception and belief systems. Another thought often misquoted is “a little knowledge is a dangerous thing”, if it were really “knowledge” it wouldn’t be dangerous. What often takes the place of real knowledge is belief, and as Plato pointed out, our beliefs are not always justified, but built on prejudices and misinformation. The reason the value and merit of art seems subjective, is that there is so much to learn to understand and appreciate about art and we are all limited beings who are destined to only glimpse a part of it. Through constant study, observation, and the willingness to remain open to the truth as it presents itself, I believe we can attain certain objectivity to the truth in art. We have to be willing to let go of the preconceptions and definitions we build along the way when new possibly conflicting truths are revealed. We must be satisfied by knowing we can never know the whole truth, because art refuses to be defined and limited, but that is exactly what makes it so powerful.

To become a better artist?

I began this years teaching by asking my students what their goals were. A common response was "I want to become a better artist". Hmmmm. So, I have been given the arduous task of asking them to define what "better" means to them. Do they mean technically better? Drawing more accurately, seeing more accurately, finding color notes better? What do they believe getting better will achieve? More sales? Respect from other artists? Personal joy? All of the above? Unfortunately, the sad truth is, the better we become as artists, the more critical we become and the more it takes to wow us, so "better" is a goal that keeps on moving further and further away. I used to be able to go to an art show and come away inspired, now I often come away disappointed. It is hard to find anything of merit other than technical prowess and more of the same. The more of a connoisseur we become in anything, the harder it is to find things that satisfy our sophisticated palette. Think of wine and cheese. The same is true in art. The more I know about painting, the more I want to see artists find new ways of solving old problems. As a painting teacher, I feel I am not teaching them a craft that is to be proliferated redundantly, I want them to create work that comes from their individuality. Individuality often means non-conforming so it doesn't always translate into popularity as the majority of people will admire and praise the familiar.

One of my favorite authors on this subject is Peter London. In one of his books he cautions that anyone can be taught how to paint like Monet, stroke for stroke, but although the external result may look the same, the internal process is totally different. It is like jumping to the end of the story and only reading the last page. Every choice Monet made in refining his technique came from personal discovery. He didn't begin as an impressionist painter he evolved and discovered a new way of seeing that was uniquely his own. A way that was vehemently rejected by traditional art norms of the day.

So for me, becoming a "better" artist, is to become an artist that continues to search and remain open to the discoveries that are revealed along the way. "Better" doesn't guarantee "satisfied", to continue to grow, we must never be stalled by anyone's satisfaction, even our own!

Realism Revival

I recently gave a talk on Modernism at a local art association. This was a presentation that I prepared during graduate school and came from my struggle to figure out where I fit in to the mix of isms. I see my work as relatively representational, and at times I felt I was not "progressive" enough to fit into the contemporary art world. Sometimes my work was seen as "Nostalgic" and I soon learned that was a dirty word in the art world that quickly slid into the realm of sentimental, trite and at the worse, cliche. So, in order to better understand how representational art had gotten such a bad rap, I had to delve into the history books.

It was fascinating, and I realize that there is no easy answer to any of it. Basically, to long for the past and to create paintings that rekindle that longing is anti progressive. We have for some reason intrinsically locked art to science with the misbelief that one innovation supplants a previous discovery. Science revolts with new discoveries that discredits old facts, and art has been pulled into that same realm. Each new ism thinks they have the new definitive and all previous movements are old and decadent. Isn't this the way of so many things? Newer is better. We all want the coolest most innovative new car, but there will always be those that yearn for the classic or antique automobile. We want to be progressive, yet sometimes we long for a time when things were simpler. One is not better than the other, and yearning for something from the past doesn't have to be a weakness. But, during the 1850's being progressive and embracing technology was the only way to be, and anyone who refused to progress was seen to have inferior intellect. Now, doesn't this sound familiar? If you don't like abstract art, the natural assumption (by those that "know') is you just don't get it. And sometimes, I'll be the first to admit, this is absolutely true. But it isn't always the case!

So, what brings this to this blog today was a recent video I watched put together by Scott Burdick on "Beauty" (www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGX0_0VL06U" ). There are many well known realist artist today that feel slighted by the unfair attention that modern art seems to get at the expense of realism. The museums in turn influence the collectors. I touched on this phenomenon in my talk, according to "modern thought" realism belongs in the past and the job of art is to reflect the society and culture we live in today. I am not saying I agree with this statement, but I can't deny that there may be some validity in it. However, I don't think it was right when the modern movement slammed realism, and conversely it isn't right for realism to slam modernism because denigrating one form to raise another isn't right period.

I have made a vow not to condemn what I don't understand just because I don't understand it. This can be extremely difficult when one is looking at some abstract art. Sometimes someone can explain the value of a painting to me that I don't initally respond to and my eyes are opened and see it in a new way or sometimes I still don't get it. But I now hold my tongue from immediately saying "bull---t"! If it provokes discussion and provides meaning in some way to someone, terrific. If I don't get it, or if I need to read a text to get it, so what? If it makes be ponder an issue in a new way, then perhaps that is more important or at least as valid as me passively beholding a realistic work of art as beautiful. Is the piece less valid because someone has taken the time to think about it and shares his commentary with me? Is it only art if I get it immediately in the way I would get a painting that is more traditionally beautiful? Is beautiful the only criteria for good or bad work? Lets not limit art in any way shape or form, there is room for it all!

Long live beauty, nostalgia and sentiment in representational art, because sometimes we need to be reminded of the past. Long live expression and angst and passion in abstraction, because sometimes we need to be shaken and re-evaluate where we are going. Sometimes a symbol, no matter how crudely painted, draws attention to something in a way that a technically masterful realistic painting doesn't and visa versa. One is not better than the other, just different, they serve different purposes and functions in the world. Do not close yourself off to either type of art or all the others in between. For to do so, would be to limit your experience of the amazing diversity there is.

Picasso was as academically skilled as any of the realists portrayed in the video by Scott, yet Picasso found traditional painting vocabulary limited him and found war and death too horrid to portray with beautiful strokes of paint. So he had to create his own vocabulary and a new world of expression through abstraction was opened. Why can't we just accept the fact, "different strokes for different folks?" and that different times sometime require different modes of expression. I agree, abstract art is not as easily accessible as realism, but art isn't always about the instant gratification gained through recognition of the subject matter. Sometimes art requires active contemplation and sometimes the only meaning to be garnered is our own reaction. That doesn't make one better or worse. This is as crazy an argument, and as big a waste of breath as tying to define who God is or why he does or does not exist. Perhaps something different to everyone and to say my way is better that your way is just a waste of everyones time. Enough of the hierarchy's!

This blog post is different from the rest. I wanted a place to record this event. I recently had an exhibition at the Cotuit Center for the Arts in Cotuit MA that included this self portrait titled "Remember Me". Next to it was posted the following text:


I celebrated a milestone birthday this year, inviting reflection on where I’ve been and where I’m going. Different quotes about the passage of time and acquiring wisdom played through my mind. One was “The face you have at 50 is the face you deserve”. This spurred the idea that this might be a good time to do another self-portrait.

While working on this, I had time to contemplate the meaning of this quote as I spent hours studying the contours of my face. About halfway through the painting I came across a quote by Soren Kierkegaard, “We create ourselves by our choices”. There is a certain double entendre that wasn’t lost on me as I was physically creating an illusion of myself through my painting choices.

There is an ambiguity to the gesture of this piece and I am struck by the different ways people have chosen to interpret it. I have strived to capture subtle nuances of expression. However, the reality is, the viewer brings their own experience and will interpret the gesture based on their own response which reminds me that we can never really control the way others respond to us. We can only remain true to ourselves or be destined to spend out lives attempting to understand what others want or expect of us.

So, I would like to conduct a bit of a survey. I would very much like to know how you interpret this piece. I have given you clues but do not let that influence your response, which is not the point. How you respond says as much about your experience of life as it is about what I intended the painting to elicit. In fact, that is really all it is about.

If you would take the time to jot down your thoughts I would appreciate it. Either write them here or drop me an email at a later time. Those who leave me their contact information will receive both a summary of other responses as well as my initial intent.

Thank your for taking the time to contemplate this.


The number of responses I received from my little social experiment was overwhelming, 75 total. This is why it has taken me so long to follow up on this. Thanks so much to all of you that took the time to respond. I resisted the temptation to read through them first, as I wanted to express my experience with painting the portrait first. Then I read through them all and I will share some of those insights as promised. I have opted to post this on my blog to reach those that didn't leave an email, or left an illegible one. I believe every response is valid, and although I may not have intended what was interpreted, I cannot deny that there may be truth in the observations. Please feel free to forward this to anyone you feel would be interested.

I have always had a fascination with the idea of leaving something behind that would live on after me. I love old cross stitch samplers that often had the words “Remember Me” painstakingly stitched by some 10 year old girl long dead and forgotten, such irony. So this is where the title came from. But I believe the seeds of my inspiration to begin the portrait were sown when I visited a Rembrandt exhibit in CT last fall, entitled “Rembrandt’s People”. All those faces, looking so intently at the viewer, all that antiquity staring at me and the realization that all of those bright eyes have long ceased to shine and that this was all that was left of them. The Rembrandt’s also inspired my choice of color palette; I loved the way the faces and hands emerged from the darkness of their ambiguous bodies. The painted portrait reveals more than a photograph because it requires contemplation and is filtered through a human rather than a mechanical device. A portrait by Rembrandt manages to capture the aura of the person, their very essence and life force. To achieve this is rare, but this has been my attempt.
The hand, what is that about? There were so many interesting interpretations, but first what was I thinking? Well, after looking intently at myself in the mirror, it was actually a natural gesture to reach out to that reflection in the same way we instinctively reach out to touch something we are curious about. But upon further reflection, it also reaches tentatively from the past toward an unknown future. The painting says, “I remember being there, where you stand, I once stood.” If by some luck of fate this painting stays in tact as long as the Rembrandt’s, I will be long gone. There is also the realization that someone I know and love might look upon it when I am no longer alive, so the expression is a bit wistful – it longs to be on the other side and be re-connected. It asks you to “Remember Me”. It is that simple and complex.


Your reflections, which I have had to abbreviate and condense:

On the hand:

Feeling of connecting with people, as on the other side of a glass wall, no matter how hard we try to connect we have only ourselves.

Still feeling my way.

Hopeful searching.

A blessing.
The painting reminds me of the idea that a photograph steals a bit of the soul. The gesture is trying to prevent the painter from making the image so as to preserve the soul. Glossy surface is like someone trapped behind glass, but the face is serene, the soul can’t be robbed.

Wait a minute, I’m just shifting from drive to overdrive, come back in another 25 years!

At first I thought you were saying “keep your distance”, then I decided that you were pressing against and invisible wall of glass saying I’m not through or there yet, I’ll keep searching”.

A sightless woman, hesitant to move, hand in front searching for objects as she starts forth.

Stop worrying about what everyone else thinks and be true to you.

You are saying STOP. I am happy as I am … don’t let time move me.

This reminds me of Sarte’s “Being and Nothingness”. If we let others define our existence, we cannot truly exist as individuals and can never be free but prisoners of the interpretations of others. The artist is free to construct herself in this painting.

Stop, you have come close enough – I am only wiling to share so much of myself and the rest is off limits.

The hand seems to limit the approach of others. It means that she wants boundaries even though she enjoys interacting with others.

It makes me think you’ve raised your hand in a gesture of complete presence. Reaching out to absorb the “energy” that your reflection offers. Open and asking and accepting.

“I am stopping time here in the present. I am living in the moment”

“Do not come too close to me, back off”

“Hello” but at the same time “I can’t talk yet. Wait a second for the speaker to finish, and then we can talk ourselves.

Thought provoking. My first feeling was she wants to get out of this picture, but then your face looks very content and comfortable. But then I thought maybe there is always a piece of us that is striving to get out of our control place and change.

The hand feels as if you are pushing open a door.

Holding someone back, saying “enough”.
Looking out tentatively for something you needed… lost? The face says in answer – look. It also seems that you are wistfully saying “goodbye” to something.

The hand says stop the physical process of aging. I want long life but I want to look just like this from now on.

You are saying “ok, but enough already” It is the gesture of a mom!

You’re leaning on yourself in a way, putting all of your weight on the 5 tiny points of contact between self and reflection that are your fingertips.

I’d like some distance. I’ve earned it – let me have time to contemplate – what do I want to do with the next 50 years?

I think you are happy with yourself as you are at this point - but are still reaching forward – open for more.

“Leave me be with my thoughts” Are you a standoffish person? Are you a person that you can’t get close to? On further reflection – “making way – one step at a time – with feeling and confidence.

The arm is not up, and the hand is open – it could be reaching out to touch something or reaching into the unknown – questing gesture – in combination with the expression and overall relaxed feeling of the body, it could be a gesturing of peace or acceptance.

The hand gesture is an inherently spiritual one. The phrase “Balanced Stillness” comes to my mind; a person who is willing to look at life, and themselves, not merely to look, but also willing to SEE.

Go forth, create, continue to grow in ways as yet uncharted, unknown.

My first impression was of a reike healer offering healing with her hand.

Wait – don’t be too quick to judge.

What are you longing to touch?

To me you almost look sightless and are feeling your way.

Wait. What is it you say? I think I see but wait.

I see fingers meeting in a tentative exploration of communication, less formal than a handshake, less intimate than a hug.

You are here, it is now, but it is not now anymore.

I see an artist reaching out to the illusion, which is self. Wondering about her passage of time. Reflecting in the image of self. Maybe life is an illusion, or an infinite quest never ending.

You are about to step through an unknown but compelling place and time Your life experiences have enabled you to accept and be compelled to enter the new place/time.

You have chosen to create yourself to be optimistic, hopeful, yet understand the pain we all endure.

Reaching, yearning, hesitant, reflective, reluctant, eager, and yet… the power! Made me cry.

(a little comic relief) Must not sleep, must warn others.

You strike me as someone that wants to touch the world somehow, so I hope you get people to reach back.

The painting seems to be mirror vision – your right hand is touching it- so you can now feel this person – you are not afraid but there are questions. I can see it in the eyes – you almost want to smile but are not sure.

(more comic relief) Ice maiden with man hands.

Stop, I’m 50 and I don’t have to listen to your BS anymore! or I’m 50 and I’d like time to slow down as I have so much more to do or It’s okay, don’t worry, you’ll get through this.

Reach out and touch someone, connect. Be one with the universe. Realize unity with all creation.

Facial expression:
Calm, almost serene, comfortable with who you are.

Calm, curiousity, whatever comes will be of interest - but not so fast!

Her eyes seem to welcome others, but her smile is only somewhat inviting.

Friendly, thoughtful – you’re recognizing someone whom you want to see.

Proud, affirming and excited about the future.

I see a depth of emotion in your eyes, wistfulness, sadness, wisdom gleaned through the years of experience

Expression of wanting something, beseeching, searching.

Probing the familiar

There is a certain thrill that comes from painting outside. I understand the thrill. The quest for the perfect subject matter to inspire and motivate, the ever-changing light and atmosphere, and let’s not forget the bugs. I remember my own personal journey. My feeble attempts to match the colors I perceived, to be the noble scribe recording nature exactly as it presented itself. But, I also clearly remember the first time I was able to use an on site scene or photograph as only a means of departure, the freedom I felt when I realized I could compose and move things about for reasons beyond imitation and representation. The day when I had mastered color enough to actually create atmosphere and light of my own desire, no longer a slave to the scene before me, I was now moving forms through space by the shift of a value or temperature.

I am pondering this transition today, because I just had a show of my newest work. I am well aware that there are people who do not understand what I am doing these days, those who miss my interpreted illustrations of familiar scenes. Why the preoccupation with these houses? Over and over, I reinvent their planes, colors and shapes. I am no longer poring through photographs and running to one new site after another searching for subject matter. Some may think I’ve just given up, settled on some familiar motif for the purpose of sales -- far from it. I have discovered that the deeper I am willing to prod the familiar, the more it reveals to me. It is difficult to push beyond the surface appearance of things to create something new. It is easier to divert by finding some new subject. But now, I have discovered that I keep finding new revelations in manipulating familiar shapes into new patterns. I witness the way the sun crosses the sky and causes a different shadow pattern I never noticed before and suddenly I have a whole new series to work on. It has become more about relationships, the relationship between the interior shapes of the structures and the exterior shape of the picture format. It is the subtle shift from one hue as it confronts another; it is the distillation of all that subject matter into simplicity of form. Less is more. How far can I take it? One color changes and all the rest must be altered. What if the sky is yellow-green this time? I have become the creator, and this is so much more thrilling than the role of imitator!

As an aside, I once thought that Milton Avery couldn’t draw. Pretty colors, interesting shapes, but obviously he couldn’t do anything else or surely he would. I mean, they are so simplistic…or are they? I discovered an academic drawing he did of a standing nude. Believe me, the man can render as well as DaVinci. The search for simplicity was intentional, and the more I learn about color, the more I realize his choices are not simple at all. So my new mantra is to not dismiss something simply because I do not currently understand it.

To view my recent show, please visit www.addisonart.com and click on the link to Mary L. Moquin.
The painting above is titled "Harmonic Intervals" 11 3/4 x 12 Painting resembles music in many ways; there is a structure and a rhythm. Finding the perfect balance between shape, color and atmosphere creates pictorial harmony. This painting is orchestrated in a way that every note plays an integral part in the harmony of the painting, similar to a small ensemble of voices each holding their part of the whole.