Looking at pictures

     


                Looking at paintings- ( particularly the old masters) can be a fascinating experience. At least it is for me - let me explain.

A photograph, let's say a city view, will show the whole and also detail -something that the eye does not do. First, we see and feel the whole scene before us, and then we focus on details and individual objects.Then back to the whole impression .which we have already accepted as a certain form of reality, that we can take for granted as being there when we need to refer to it.

               The Impressionists were influenced by photography and often aimed ( since Monets famous painting" impression " ) at creating an impression of the moment.The moment's monument as it were.

.            The old masters, however, were creating a sequence in time-
Because their paintings are a whole series of focus points montaged and as it were, assembled together on the canvas in a whole time sequence -because the artist guides the looker around the painting. In a way, the work is a kind of film or video.Its fascinating to see a painting as a short ( or even a long film ! )

                               Vermeers Lady at the virginal with a gentleman
                                              ( please see above )


       As I entered the room, I felt the coolness of the tiles under my feet and admired their very varied and striking patterns.Yet this was not a room in any kind of "real" world. Here everything was in harmony ( except when something else was needed. Like the viol gamba, lying carelessly upon the diagonal lines of the floor, like an alien craft waiting to take off to some other musical destination.) The feeling of harmony, made by the rectangles horizontal and vertical lines, gave one a feeling of absolute beauty ( was this an early re-incarnation of Piet Mondrian -Vermeer and Mondrian's final statement,in Mondrian's late works?)The severity of some of the lines was contrasted by the softness of the light, and by the sumptuousness of the fabrics, (in the bell-like form of the ladies overdress and the form of the carpet on and off the table.) Vermeer sat at the back of the room, painting upon his sketched in canvas taken from the camera obscura. Music filled the room from the virginal and from the Northern windows the light softly filtered in.The Lady looked at me and smiled in the mirror above the virginal, the music master stopped tapping with his stick and looked at me somewhat disdainfully. I almost tripped upon the carpet that lay upon the table and partially upon the floor.I admired its russet colours and the way the light played upon its folded corners.On the table was a tray and a " Delft vase"( probably for later refreshments )Between the table and the musician lay the viol de gamba trustingly on the floor ( probably they had begun with this instrument )
   I heard a voice say " Please stop a moment if you would - thank you ."The figures froze and the music stopped and my gaze resumed its journey - admiring the intricacies of the virginal and the leaded windows that filtered the wonderful September lightThere was a powerful silence now, ( although outside I could hear some voices from the canal and the sound of occasional carriage wheels upon cobblestones and domestic noises within the house,(yet not one of these sounds, disturbed the utter silence of the chamber.)The figures were like wax-work figures, and I could have reached a hand out to them, or played a chord on the instrument.


,
                Vermeers voice was heard to softly say "Resume and thank you ." The music began again with its full- almost aggressive sound " Madame -Telleman is not Bach, he is modern, and the rondo should be played with more spirit "said the gentleman.His stick made the tempo that he required.  )I was curious to see the picture behind the music master but however hard I tried I could not bring it into focus.But my gaze was captured by the light from the window its changing intensity of colour and tones.  I turned about and saw Vermeer looking up from his painting. His eyes glittering somewhat mischievously from under his large black felt hat -" My friends, it is time for our refreshments!"

Norton bridge

                             My grandmother scolded me,

              As I curiously opened the cupboard

               Of the gentleman farmers 

                     Armoury-

                Caressing the doubled barrelled

              Shotguns like a young cowboy- 

             This was the manners of the town,  

             That she severely reminded me of.

             Here, guns are a mans ritual.



             And later- driving home 

             To the station, on the lonely  
               
             Winding, hilly road.

              The car lights illuminating 

             The landscape, light and dark-
             
             In wide arches

            As in a theatre,( a stage that no rabbit

            Or hare should step into - 

            
            Nor corn-field either.) 

                      

            Waiting for the dark platform


           The multi-mirrored lantern 

            Of the time-stilled station,

           Reflecting my dreams.  

          The arcs of the car lights 

          Upon the hillside etched  
          
          Deep into my young mind,

          That would become -

          A memory.
        

Ruminations of the day-

             A philosopher is usually someone that theorises about truth, a true teacher  on whatever level, is someone of few words ( beware of teachers that have a lot to say ! ) Yet points towards some truth, and advises you to LIVE that, something, that they have experienced in themselves and have become one with, in the medium that they are working with -whatever that may be . They will not have much to say - maybe nothing -

Ruminations -

             In art and spirituality, we are either a  " follower "or an innovator.We are either mediocre or a genius - and actually, everyone is potentially a genius in their own way - in their individual way of expression.  It's just a question, of trusting one's own unique vision.

some ruminations of the day ----

   


              The " Enquirer " and the  "artist " are upon two very similar paths.They can both be " influenced " and also learn from others, but they can only  " follow " at great risk because they are both searching for something that is unique to themselves, and actually something that is very close to themselves!  There are no steps from top to bottom that will take them there ( and this is their great solace and freedom ) So perhaps true enquiry, is enquiry without the enquirer and true work the work without the doer.

Three dimensional work in clay ,plaster of paris ,wood metal, acrilic and coloured perspex .Entitled "undulations ".

Three dimensional work entitled. Undulations