“What are your plans for the summer?”

The summer session is over and he is at MM’s. She has agreed to lend him her studio for 6 weeks, two of which she will not be here. This is a big occasion. This is her studio that she built for herself and now she is letting him use it. In six weeks He will be back in Tomball.  It is all a delicate balance.

Delicate Balance 36x12

"Since I have no space in which to work, her space is to be my space for a while.

Lots of art shows in Houston in the heat of the summer. Most banal. But at Wade Wilson’s there is Harold Garde . Raw figurative expressionist works of the school of painting that is forever old and forever young. Unpretentious and seemingly effortless these works refuse to decorate. They proclaim their deep raw love of art and humanity. At the Art Car Museum there is the work of Barbara Jones a Houston painter who I knew nothing about. She recently died leaving a body of work that proclaim the joy she found in her private life, her Houston neighborhood and her friends. Richly painted with no attempt at “art smart”  the paintings tell of joy in her life and also the sadness of loss and injustices. A talent now silenced that got little exposure; I only guess that that is how she wanted it. The energy it takes to self promote takes away from the creating time. I heard an artist once say that you have to spend has much of your time on business as on creation.
Talk Self Promote Talk Self Promote Talk Self Promote
 In HIGH ACADEMIA the word play goes on. Like a dog chasing it's tail. On line I discovered an artist whose thing was to question what is art. EXCUSE me but did not Duchamp do that a 100 years ago and we got it  and kept making paintings. One of  artist's acts was to have a crane  lower a junked car into Central Park, that's in NY you know. That's something at which to marvel. Context is everything; do not try that in East Texas.

I went to more galleries where the work was let’s say undeveloped or derivative or all looked alike and was the same size. One exhibition was of a ex student of mine He only took one class and moved on, but I liked him. A smart ass who did every thing I asked as outrageously as possible, but he came to every class and that got my attention. I saw him as I was 50 years ago and I discovered we share a birthday. Now he has a graduate degree and is doing work that young people do. I trust he will improve. Too much causal photo stuff right now, but they have a dark beauty.
I visited an art gallery owner who had looked at  my work and said that we would do some kind of show. Now I got the run around..."well I don't know, I can't say, I have things scheduled for  9 months"...yes I understand just say yes of no..instead of I have to think about it.
I will keep doing what I enjoy and you can Think about that."

Two Islands 16x20

A long romance

 

Self Portrait 1979

Tell us about this painting?

The Professor told the story. "I spent the winter of 1979 at a private guest ranch in San Gabriel, Etla, Oaxaca,Mexico. I went there often in the 70s. It was about 20 miles north of the city perched up in the mountains with a spectacular view across the valley. I painted many pictures there. This painting is of me looking at myself in a mirror with kerosene lights creating shadows. It was in a gallery exhibition in Houston. I never thought it would be sold: it is too large and dark and mysterious and personal.  Mary Margaret saw it at the exhibition and remembered it. A year later she went back and bought it. I knew she was a photographer, but had only known her socially . I had to meet this woman who would buy such a painting. There were  brief and passionate meetings with wonderful conversations.

 My wife and I went to Europe for 4 years. Other shows followed and a year in New York.

 Another brief and passionate encounter occurred. Then 20 years of no contact.

Now we are together.  My paintings continue our story.

                            

Here is wall of new works.

                                              

The change

They asked the Professor about the changes in his life. They saw his work changing along with his person. He answered, “A few years ago my wife and I began to spend a summer month in Santa Fe, New Mexico. I began to paint from that landscape. It was good.  We then bought a small condominium and spent vacations and the summers there. There was really no room for me to work. Arguments ensued. We then decided to sell the condo and find a permanent house in which to live. We moved into a beautiful home with a studio space on the first level. I stayed teaching to pay bills and until our Houston properties sold. I commuted as often as possible. After 2 years my work began to move away from the tight photo based realism of the past 12 years. I soon realized that I was one person in Houston and a different person in Santa Fe. I liked who I was in Houston and could not be that person in Santa Fe. I tried very hard to be what was expected, but it was never enough. It felt like I was always walking on eggs. My inner voice told me that I had done all I could do with my present style and I should go back and search my roots and uncovered what I had hidden for 12 years. When I evolved into myself 40 years ago I used symbols/myths/archetypes which spoke to me of death and regeneration and it was to those sources I returned: skulls, shamen, Indians, cactus, palm trees, lovers. The waterfalls, trout streams, and mountains that I had been painting abstracted themselves. My unconscious was released and I knew that I was entering a new dimension and I did not know where it would take me.

Skull Composition 6 24x30 acrylic/mixed medium

Skull Composition 12 18x24 acrylic on paper

Shaman 1 24x36 acrylic/mixed medium

Shaman 3 36x24 acrylic/glitter

Shaman 1 11x9 WC

Shaman 2 11x9

Balancing 28x32 1975-2008 acrylic

The Force 5 48x36 2008 acrylic/glitter

The Force 3 30x40 acrylic/mixed medium 2008

The Force 4- the Waterfall  48x63 acrylic 2008

Lovers 36x24 acrylic/glitter 2008

Lovers with Waterfall 48x60 acrylic 2008

The pressure was on for me to retire, but I did not want to retire. I really like what I am doing and how I live in Texas; it occurred to me that if I did retire to Santa Fe I was going to DIE, a beautiful place with for me an unhealthy psychological environment . Thankfully the economy collapsed when I was offered a retirement deal and I stayed teaching to pay the bills. My paintings flowed from me as never before. I realized that I was telling my story overtly again; for twelve years I placed myself in an cage with the excuse that I was teaching myself to paint in an realistic manner and I did. I also knew I was sending out signals. I had a show in Houston of new work where I was by myself and I felt so very free.

Waterfall and Rockslide 30x40 acrylic 2008

Thunderstorm 2  24x30 acrylic 2008

Along the Rio Grand 36x48 acrylic 2008                                

I attended a benefit for an alternative art space that honored my breakfast group of artist friends and I saw Mary Margaret for the first time in 20 years; we talked, we exchanged cards and began. One year later I told my wife that I was in love with Mary Margaret and I wanted a divorce. This is an act of self preservation. It has caused great pain for which I am sorry. I am an artist, it is a selfish profession. I will not sacrifice myself to the so called social demands of our society. Many times I heard “if you do not want to be married you do not have to”. Or “if you do not like it you know what you can do about it.”

Big Rock Candy Mountain 48x60 acrylic 2009

Yummy Place 22x28 acrylic 2009

New Land 36x48 acrylic 2010

La Lunasea 20x24 acrylic 2010

Marshmellow Range 30x40 acrylic 2010

Island Shelter 30x20 acrylic 2010

I am happily in love with a woman with whom I can actually have a conversation, who likes my work, and with whom I can laugh and celebrate. My work and my life are filled with joy. bring it on!"

Not drawn to it

It's humid and he likes it.

Birds and frogs and sirens and

air conditioners and thunder

He painted from 9 until 4.

Today acrylic, tomorrow watercolor.

He has the summer for this.

School starts on Monday and he can work on a larger scale.

He is just starting.

He got an announcement from a gallery about a show.

The young proclaim their right to show their work.

He did.

As usual  the artist and work were politically correct

 and derivative,

Once he was just out with a MFA

and hungry to state his stature.

Today they are not Drawn to him.

Not enough

There is not enough time.

To absorb it.

Too much to hear.

Too much to read.

Too much to see.

No time to sit and .

Then I want to do it again

because I cannot absorb it.

On a Sunday

He spent the day doing watercolors at MM's house. Nothing else to do but paint. He has divided the dining room table between acrylics and watercolors. Dolce fare niente  except paint and listen to music. Today  Pink Martini , 1940s Jazz at the Philharmonic, and Schubert.
The air conditioner kept pace with the heat and humidity.

These are WC works in progress. They need to sit for day or so. As the day ended he sat in the screened porch, fan on and absorbed the day's end reading Wallace Stevens and William Carlos Williams. He has renewed his undergraduate love of poetry; lost for 50 years. It comes back full circle. He read and drew until the light failed enjoying the silence that was given beyond the city's background steady presence; then there was a lightening flash and thunder and rain.  The peace of rain and the visual surrounding greenness and the smell of the tropics. He has missed this, has never known this, but he knows he has missed/needs it and it renews him for the days to come. The frogs signal and the baby birds call from their nests in the ravine and thunder sounds in the distance. Here are other acrylics in progress. He is OK.

Words of Wisdom

Sometimes The Professor gets a paper turned in that he enjoys.
This is so totally honest, he wants to share.

The Menil Experience
As you are walking up to the Menil building you feel a sense of stillness. That stillness continues as you walk through the doors and down the large hallways. Even though there is the constant flow of museum visitors moving past the art, I felt as though I was in a cafeteria lunch line, looking but never really taking anything from it. Nothing moved. There was no sense of interaction. Just you, staring at the art, wondering at which moment you would understand where the artist was coming from and what they were trying to portray.

As I look closely, fixed on one particular piece of art, I notice a short, dark figure stealthily moving my way. I hear “don’t touch that!” I turn in response to the phrase and say “I didn’t touch it!” The figure now comes in clearly, it is a short, red haired woman dressed in all black, holding a walkie-talkie. She reminds me of a special agent of some sort. She is just one of the individuals dressed in all black that uphold the strict, no touching, no breathing, on, near, or around the artwork, rules. I like to call them, the Museum Nazis. These are the persons lurking behind you every step of the museum watching your every move, interjecting when they feel you might be contemplating doing something that’s not in the rule book. They feel as if it’s their personal and moral obligation to protect each and every molecule of artistic yield inside their museum jurisdiction. As I hurry to finish appreciating this section of the museum I see another Museum Nazi, this time making another museum patron feel as though they have breeched some sort of invisible force field around a piece of art work, “Please stay behind the line on the floor!” she spits out. I hear the visitor reply, “Oops! Sorry, I didn’t see that”. By ‘the line’ she means the black broomstick looking piece lying on the floor in front of a large gold circle. At this point I am thinking it would be in the museum’s best interest to invest in some bright yellow caution tape to mark off and protect the collections of art. Rather than make their visitors feel that at any moment they might be thrown into an art concentration camp of some kind. This was not the way I had hoped my Menil museum experience would begin.

I meander from art work to art work finally coming to a collection that the museum is calling Witnesses to a Surrealist Vision. “This could be interesting.” I think to myself quietly. Maybe it could be some kind of insight to what the artists were like. I walk through the curtains and turn my focus to a plaque on my left, it reads, The objects in this exhibition were either owned by the Surrealists or are in the spirit of those they collected. This is the eclectic collection that makes you wonder, what kind of person would put this in their home? The large black mannequin centered in the room stands out first. It is covered in outward pointing spikes and is seriously demented looking. This immediately makes me shift my mind to the 1987 horror flick Hellraiser. I find it interesting that someone would have this in their home for some sort of inspiration or even aesthetic value. It’s just downright creepy. As I continue to walk in the small room there is a table of random knick knacks enclosed in glass, a string of dead birds, and a stereoscope among other things. Leaving the room I wonder what it must be like to have seen these things and thought them of personal importance.

The Steve Wolfe on Paper was an uninteresting exhibit until you found out that these books and papers were not just that. They were recreations of them, made to look torn and tattered. As I walked through the exhibit the first time I was not very impressed. I was wondering why in the world anyone would call old torn books art. I walked out of the gallery and noticed a pamphlet. I snatched one up and skimmed through it. A light bulb went off in my head about halfway down the second page. I definitely needed to walk through this exhibit one more time. This time, looking a little more closely trying to imagine just how he had accomplished such a feat. To recreate these images so well must have been painstakingly difficult. Attention must be paid to each square inch of the books in order to put out an almost exact image.

I think the strangest and most realistic of all the artists in the collection had to be Maurizio Cattelan. I was wandering around the corner of one of the galleries when all of a sudden I looked up. I gasped. There it was! Or should I say, there she was. The sculpture was of a girl dressed in white shirt and her auburn hair pulled back into a pony tail. She was strung on a cross and bound with what looked to me like hospital bed restraints. She also looks to be crucified inside of a packing crate. I had to look closely to insure that this indeed was a sculpture. There was a large gold circle leaning against one of the walls with a mirror leaning on the wall diagonal from it with a painting of a couple on it. The couple looked as though they were admiring the reflection of the large gold circle. It was like two works of art were working to produce three separate works of art. Another one of Cattelan’s bizarre creations is the taxidermied horse with the letters INRI posted on a board stuck into the horse’s side. I read in the pamphlet that the meaning of this is to not beat a dead horse. I would not have thought this to be the meaning but once it was explained I could understand why it was meant to be interpreted in that way. The piece de resistance has to be the piece called All. It is setup in one large room all by itself. When walking into this particular room an eerie blanket falls over you. The piece consists of nine marble figures lined up in the middle of the floor. It’s almost as if you are at a crime scene where a mass murder has taken place and the police are lining bodies up to be taken away by the coroner.

The Menil collection was overall an experience in itself. Some of them good, some of them bad, most of them strange. I think for now I’ll stick to my fifty percent off Hobby Lobby paintings. You don’t have to think about them and you don’t have to worry about people touching them.