StoryCulture

The Many Layers of Art

The Old Guitarist

1903/04 Oil on panel
48 3/8 x 32 1/2 in. (122.9 x 82.6 cm)
signed, l.r.: "Picasso"

When I visited the Art Institute of Chicago on Wednesday, the guard in the room was enthused. A visitor to the gallery informed her that if she looked closely, she could see the face of a woman under the layers of paint that composed one of the most important paintings of Picasso's Blue Period: The Old Guitarist. The guard shared her discovery with a child-like joy. Gallery visitors gathered around and tried their turn to discover what once was hidden and now visible through close observation. Strangers helped each other to see and became acquainted.

I divulged when I returned home, to my friend Edward B. Gordon, that I was hesitant to paint the figure from life in oils, despite my ability to draw the human form.

He'd just captured beautifully, in paint and color choice, the intrinsic character of a man in the painting posted to his blog: here.

© Edward B. Gordon: The Boxer. All rights reserved.

I ruminated to him, "What held me back other than my desire to make my first brushstroke masterful?" As I wrote it, I knew I'd found my block.

Edward sent me the gift of a wise reply.

“Just one piece of advice if you start to paint the figure, there is no difference to it than painting a tree. It is only in our mind that figures are more difficult then other things to paint.... it is simply all the same. The same ease, the same difficulty. If I am stuck, I put the canvas upside down, and go on with it. The sooner you make your first 5000 mistakes, the better. There is nothing to be lost, only gained... trust me. It’s that kind of aloof mind, that sets you free. Paint but always at the limit, if it goes wrong, who cares, I have a fireplace in my studio. 80 % of my work provides the heat..... you know what I mean ?”

He's right about the need to become dispassionate toward failure with a paintbrush in hand, when on an artistic vision quest. Read what Edward has to say about his subjects, and at once you know that he is anything but aloof toward humanity.

To look at the work of a master painter: only the outer layer is apparent at first. Lesser painters strive to create a surface that stands alone.

The layers of complexity. The technique tried and cast aside. The struggle to reach a vision. The discovery of the artist's hidden truth created the meaningful connection between strangers, in a museum gallery, on a Wednesday, in Chicago.

The Dreamworld of Art Museums

When I am doing good things for others (this week’s trip to Chicago for instance) I confess honestly that I tend to take no personal time and just trail discreetly in responsibility's wake.

With only a couple of hours remaining, I finally headed inside the Art Institute of Chicago. Near martyrdom to teenagers had me jaded -- I thought.

I sauntered slowly into the Impressionist rooms.

Vincent Van Gogh o/c 1887

It was like the dreams I have in which I encounter a dearly loved family member who’s life has passed on, and yet there they are in front of me again… so close that I can lean forward to gaze upon each familiar line that is their essence. Emotion overtook me again and again. I had to slow my breath.

Vincent Van Gogh o/c 1887

When it was time to leave the rooms, it was as waking from those dreams. I turned back for one last glimpse of each beloved face, and hoped my tears weren’t noticed. Life beckoned and I walked reluctantly toward the light of day.

Claude Monet o/c 1890-91

Chicago Sailing and a Vital Downtown

© Lalla Porter. All rights reserved.

I spent three days this week as the mother of high school sailboat racers and a chaperone -- aboard the ship that is the Columbia Yacht Club, in downtown Chicago. In the process I fell in love all over again with that city.

© Lalla Porter. All rights reserved.

The chance to spend time experiencing the clubhouse ship was a chaperone's good fortune. Not only that. I received the kind offer from Chicago sailor, Tom Barnes, to venture out onto the lake aboard his racing sailboat. The week before he and a crew of 9 competed with his boat in the Chicago to Mackinac race.

I decided to let the photos I captured express my mindfulness of the reward that obligations can offer. My intial impulse to stay ashore and paint was happily squelched.

© Lalla Porter. All rights reserved.

The boat docks and mooring cans that stretch north and south along the shores of Lake Michigan, in downtown Chicago, are all owned by the city. The entire shoreline is public property. Chicago's beautiful public spaces are funded with the money paid by sailors and powerboaters in mooring fees.

© Lalla Porter. All rights reserved.

Running Off to Chicago With a Sailor - or Rather Thirteen of Them

I'll be docking for the next week in Chicago.

The 420 Nationals finish up here tomorrow, and I'm about to pack my bags -- now that the logistical organization of the trip is nearly done.

The past two times my daughter raced in Chicago, it was cold enough to demand drysuits. The biggest obstacle to face these junior sailors in the "Windy City" in July, is a predicted lack of wind.

I'm obsessed with the fact that the regatta is held across the park from the Chicago Institute of Art. Can you imagine ... if there is too much responsibility to delegate to the two fathers who are also chaperoning ... if the lake is becalmed and the teenagers are all antsy on shore? Favorite paintings will be close, but just out of reach.
OK. I have art angst. I'm excited to go on this trip -- and was looking forward already to being back home with my feet up.

I'm grateful to my talented artist friend Edward B. Gordon, who makes time to paint every day. He reminded me there is no excuse not to enjoy being an artist. And paint. That includes being a chaperone for 13 teenagers in downtown Chicago. Check out Edward's blog to see why I respect his opinion.

As soon as this is posted, into my daypack will go my black metal watercolor box, a sketchbook, pencils and some assorted half-pastel sticks. Edward is right. Sitting on the deck of the Columbia Yacht Club will be an artist's bliss -- if I bring the attitude that lets it happen.

Sailing After Van Gogh's Seascape at Saintes-Maries

© Lalla Porter. All rights reserved.

8 in x 10 in (20.3 cm x 25.5 cm) / oil on gessoed untempered masonite (hardboard)

Vincent Van Gogh was known to make studies of artists he admired when he was seeking a breakthrough. I feel a camaraderie with him in that regard. To paint of study of his work is like painting with an old and much admired friend.

My view of sailboat races is often from the shore. Unless the wind is high... the expanse of water leading to the boats is monotonous. But not with Vincent's palette and bold brush strokes. I recently completed this oil painting (for my personal collection) combining a regatta -- and my study of Vincent's painting Seascape at Saintes-Maries. I mentally reversed his water image when I painted so that something of my own would come out, instead of studying him stroke for stroke.

edit- Recently, I discovered that many people come to this post on a google search for the original painting. I've added it for the image seekers here because obviously my study, which altered the image, was never intended to replace the Master's painting in search engine results.

Seascape at Saintes-Maries

Vincent Van Gogh
Arles, Early June 1888
Oil on canvas (51 x 64 cm)
Amesterdam, Rijksmuseum Vincent van Gogh Foundation

Thunderhead - original oil painting

There are clouds and then there are Cumulus Congestus Clouds. On a recent evening, all the mundane aspects of life were put on hold to sky gaze.

This painting was not finished en plein air. Unlike the quickly building thunderstorms at sunset that night, my beautiful colors were achieved with a combination of wet into wet oil paint and glazes that took days to complete. I love the appearance of watercolor granulation in the sky -- achieved with oil medium enhanced glazing over gessobord texture -- and the luminous glow of broken color in the clouds. My clouds were formed with my full arsenal of scumbles, impasto, dry brush, and glazes. Mother Nature made it look so easy.

© Lalla Porter. All rights reserved.

5 in x 7 in (12.7 cm x 17.78 cm) / oil on Ampersand gessobord

SUMMER ON MINNEHAHA CREEK - original oil painting

The studio window in my home overlooked a winding bend in Minnehaha Creek and a preserved wetland. I am told that until the early 1990's, the land was still farmed by an independent holdout against the push of suburbia. The bank is now covered with scrubby trees and Buckthorn. My painting pushes back the curtain of time to that last summer, and the farmer's parting gaze up the creek.

© Lalla Porter. All rights reserved.

oil on Ampersand gessobord / 6 in. x6 in. (15.2 cm x 15.2 cm)

Edit:
Today, July 17th, an article is in the local paper about plans for the headwaters of Minnehaha Creek. The city plans to remove invasive buckthorn, remove ugly 1960's houses, and make the creek more accessible to canoeists.

Here is the link to the history of that stretch of Minnehaha Creek, in Minnetonka, where Summer on Minnehaha Creek was painted.

Minnehaha Creek photos by Alexander Hesler, inspired Longfellow to write the Song of Hiawatha, which was published in 1855.