Blog
Posted on 9/1/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
A new cat has been rescued by my wife and me recently. This one might be referred to as special needs in that he has a birth defect in his right foreleg. The paw did not properly form and appears to be splayed or split, sometimes called a crab paw. The vet says that two claws are fused together, there is no proper bone structure, and no pad, and another part of the foot is like a bag of skin with some cartilage but minimal bone. He walks with a pronounced limp, but he runs on three legs with his right leg extended out in front of him. In spite of this he is incredibly beautiful, long haired with a wonderfully bushy tail and the markings of a Siamese. The vet called him a seal point Siamese mix. He also has bright, piercing blue eyes. His infirmity, however, does not seem to impede his cat-ness. He climbs trees and can outrun any of our cats who still like to chase him away. Territoriality and dominance are still being worked out, but our cats eventually learn to become part of the group.
What impresses me most about this cat is his air of normalcy. He does everything that cats do without any sense of inferiority. I’ve seen full bodied cats with low self-esteem who would always defer to other cats, but not this fellow. He will run if attacked, for he seems to know that a battle would not resolve in his favor. He only runs far enough for the attacking cat to stop, but soon he returns since he has never gone very far away. He is still a bit feral, but both of us can tell that he is interested in connecting with us. Cats seem to know loving people even if they have no experience of them. For now he stays just out of reach, but he’s lessening that distance more quickly than many others have in the past.
Animals are not dumb brutes, neither are they human. They are sensitive, live according to their principles and characteristics, and many of them can learn new behaviors. The ones we think of as domesticated are loving, loyal, and companionable when treated well and with respect. We can learn from animals just as they learn from us, and we can see the long history they have shared with us in the art that has immortalized that relationship.
Posted on 8/31/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
When I first took an art history course many years ago, I made connections with ancient history that I had learned in school from grammar school through high school. I knew something about the ancient kingdoms of Mesopotamia and Egypt and that information blended with what I had learned through church and reading the Bible. What did not occur to me at the time, however, is that there were many more ancient artifacts that had not survived as the principle examples that were consistent from one textbook to the next. Also, there had to have been thousands of craftsmen and artisans in every civilization but the vast majority of these were long forgotten. Even when we reached the Renaissance and later eras, there were a limited number of names who did major works that represented these times. Again, hundreds if not thousands of lesser known and mostly forgotten artists were never mentioned or even suggested that they had existed. The same held true for the modern era.
Imagine my surprise when I visited my first major museum and saw works by artists I had no idea existed. Only then did it occur to me that that at any given time there are literally thousands of artists at work, some of their works survive, and we may not know whether we have the best examples since the unknown remain unknown. Any survey of a particular historical time is only a snapshot that gives us a general idea of what was done then. A serious student of art, therefore, has to keep looking, questioning, and adjusting his/her ideas about art as more is learned. Even today there may be artists working in obscurity whose work may not become known until sometime in the future. If their work is significant, historians will scurry to incorporate them into the large scheme of history although their work will have had no impact on the time in which they lived because they were not known then. We, however, may understand something different about that time from that obscure work. During his life Van Gogh’s work was known by only a handful of people, but today he is known worldwide. Many artists continue to remain unknown to the wider public.
Sometimes we may feel educated about a particular subject for we have spent much time and effort to learn what we know. Unless we have been the most diligent of scholars, however, we likely know only a fraction of what could be known. The wisest among us will be constantly seeking and questioning rather than doing what many do today to find out about something – go to Wikipedia. That may be a starting point for today’s computer generation, but it is only that. We really know very little having read one of those articles. We’ve gotten the sound bite. Real education is a lifetime pursuit. Learning about art, either its practice or its history, is that same lifetime journey.
Posted on 8/30/2015 7:16:46 PM
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
I utilize the medium of oil paint on canvas and other surfaces to create designs that function as portals for the viewer into a visual realm of colors, shapes, and interwoven marks that stand as literal testaments of the physicality of paint. Simultaneously, these images can transform into pathways for imaginative exploration of internal landscapes enriched by the viewer’s perception and sensibility. What is fascinating for me about oil paint is how layers of color, either transparent overlays or opaque strokes crisscrossed wet into wet or wet over dry, can create levels of depth that appear very shallow or nearly infinite. Artists have exploited these qualities for centuries to make images that are virtually lifelike. The idea of a painting being a window on reality was prevalent for hundreds of years, and many artists still work with that concept as the basis of what they do as painters. In modern times, this illusionism became a point of contention as arguments were made for what constituted reality in art.
Certain schools of thought during the mid-twentieth century focused on the flatness of the painting surface and some even referred to the sanctity of the picture plane. It is a plane and therefore not to be violated with any suggestion of depth or illusionistic space. There is some merit to that idea, but it is as though the obvious imposes limitations on imaginative expression. One could also argue that the surface of a woven canvas or a pressed piece of paper would be violated by any mark made upon it. The surface is pure in its unmarked essence – that is its reality. As soon as a mark is made, the surface becomes a backdrop for whatever is on the surface. That surface is either a stained curtain or it is an invisible pane read as some newly defined space rather than substance.
Likewise, paint itself, which can be liquid and soak into an absorbent surface or it can be gel-like and build a physical texture, can also only be itself. It is irrelevant and a lie for it to disappear into some image of something, some replicated picture of a person or a cow that is obviously not a real person or cow but is supposed to inspire awe by the skill with which the illusion of a person or cow has been created. The arguments quickly become absurd, for what makes art into art is that we can see either the object or the image or even both simultaneously. We also read the artwork as a symbolic or metaphorical expression of ideas about whatever is represented or alluded to in its imagery. We have come to understand things about abstraction that enable us to perceive sophisticated and complex concepts in both realistic imagery and in non-objective (abstract) imagery. We know that art is an abstraction. It is a concentrated expression that compresses many thoughts and feelings about the world around us into forms that can be read or interpreted in multiple ways. This is what readily distinguishes a painting of a tree from an actual tree. The former is infused with concepts and intentions that the latter is not. Art becomes a portal or pathway for both audience and artist.
Posted on 8/28/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
During the fifties and sixties much was argued about the nature of painting. Many painters eliminated imagery from their work by stressing that a painting is solely the manipulation of paint on a flat surface. Illusionistic space is nothing more than illusion, and, in fact, a lie. Some artists removed texture, some removed any suggestion of the artist’s hand at work, some allowed the paint to soak into the surface rather than lie atop it, the scale of works grew beyond the easel and migrated to floors and walls eventually becoming environments with each artist reaching more and more for that elusive truth as only artistic expression could state it. Of the reductive theoretical spins that abounded, each tried to undercut the other. Sculpture became squares and cubes and ultimately, process. Dance became stationary postures. Music became silence between fewer and fewer sounds. Often the result was to alienate the already alienated artist from his or her audience and even from his or her own experience. Still, there was an impulse to make, to do, and to experience through art some element of truth or beauty, though these words might be substituted with words like process, immediacy, environment, or some other techno-jargon that attempted to promote inclusion while denying personal expression. All of this was taking place, of course, as the artist promoted himself or herself shamelessly as the next greatest visionary.
The great religions have all taught that everything is illusion, except, perhaps, the religious experience itself, although that can be seductive and misleading as well. If we think of religion as a way to understand, as a way to discover meaning in existence, as a way to verbalize or come to terms with the experience of aliveness, as a way to connect with the larger context (beyond the self), then isn’t religion another form of artistic expression? Aren’t illusion and truth and beauty all part of the same package?
It’s an illusion that a straight stick appears bent when submerged in clear water. We know that refraction of light makes the stick appear to be bent. It’s an illusion that stars twinkle in the night sky. We’ve proven that the atmosphere ‘makes’ the stars seem to dance their light. It is an illusion that some stars even shine at all since they are so far away and it takes so many light years for the light to reach us, those stars no longer exist. Their ghost light may shine on for many generations, but, in truth, they have already disappeared. Recently some astronomers have discovered that White Dwarfs (dying stars) do twinkle in a sense – they fluctuate between bright and dim in a rhythmical manner, but these cannot be seen with the naked eye. What does it matter, then, if a painting has the appearance of depth or is totally flat, if it depicts an image of something recognizable or if it is merely its own image? Neither is any more real than the other. Both contain metaphorical content that exists in the realm of imagination, not unlike the star that shines even though it is non-existent or the White Dwarf that pulsates like a dying heart. We perceive what we think we know and trust that perception as truth about the world around us. The record that is painted or carved into artistic form is one person’s expression of a truth that may be illusion or an illusion that may be truth.
Posted on 8/27/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
Art is the result of inspiration wedded to thought, feeling, and a particular organizing sensibility that appears to be inherent to human beings. We do seek order and often impose order where its absence is felt. Landscape painting, for example, is order expressed by the artist based on an observed natural scene. Some artists (Cezanne and the Impressionists as examples) have used landscape as a means for exploring aesthetic ideas (order). Life itself seeks order – an organism cannot survive without its parts being organized according to its specific internal demands. This applies from the simplest to the most complex of life forms. We can truthfully say that order is in our DNA.
This leads me to random thoughts that follow a certain order and become less random as the order is perceived. One idea relates to sexual images in art, which can be innocent or prurient according to the intention of the artist or perhaps the mindset of the viewer. I use that topic because of its controversial nature. We find much controversy in the world today from racism to religious fanaticism and persecution to aggression to greed to social manipulation and power dominance. Bear with me here.
The argument that pornography is a societal moral issue and therefore should be strictly controlled, especially on the internet, on the surface may seem rational and righteous. However, as a nation we also have a constitution that protects free speech and expression. During the 1920s Prohibition was instituted to control the use and abuse of alcohol. Any student of history knows that Prohibition was a failure. Its primary effect was to increase crime and, in particular, strengthen the reach of organized crime. We currently have laws restricting the availability and use of alcohol, tobacco, drugs, sex, abortion, rape, murder, theft, and on and on. The laws do have some impact on the various criminal activities related to any of these commodities or behaviors, but they do not stop these behaviors. We still have alcoholics, drug addicts, sex offenders, and criminals of every stripe.
The bottom line is that individuals are responsible for their actions. No one makes someone smoke or drink or look at pornography. If there is a lapse in moral judgment preceding any of these actions, it is because an individual made a choice and then followed a course of action (and yes in some instances the individual may be deranged, emotionally disturbed, or aberrant as the result of abuse). Where does the individual gain the wisdom to choose positive behavior or the strength to resist negative behavior? David was favored of God, according to the Bible, yet David gave in to lust (not as a victim of pornography but perhaps from corruption of power). Oddly, David was not directly punished for his sins – the innocent child of his illicit union suffered the consequences. Is this ever seen as a biblical precedent for abortion?
No one can make an alcoholic stop drinking. Restricting access to alcohol will not remove the craving for drink. Even longtime recovering alcoholics speak of the craving that continues for some time after the last drink was taken. The choice to stop, however, came from within. The courage and fortitude to remain abstinent continually comes from within. This strength extends to being in the presence of alcohol and still choosing not to drink. Can one be in the presence of pornography and choose not to look or, having looked, choose not to act depravedly? The wise alcoholic seeks counsel and support from those who have trod the same path. Similarly, other forms of addictive behavior have been successfully addressed by following the recovery methods of Alcoholics Anonymous. Ultimately, this is a spiritual path – not necessarily Christian – but definitely spiritual.
Is it possible to teach spiritual principles – notably, humility, surrender, compassion, love – without the exclusions that dwell on negativity as in many religions? How has art dealt with these moral/societal issues? Likely we’ll find as much variance in artistic expression as we see in any of these areas of social concern. Isn’t diversity one of the strengths that gives art such universal appeal?
Posted on 8/26/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
Many courtroom dramas on television play out some variation on the idea of the defense counsel finding a credible witness or the prosecution attacking the credibility of that witness or of the accuser. Was what was seen actually seen or simply remembered as being a particular way? Are the remembered details enough to establish that something was correctly observed? Is there corroboration by more than one person? Does what was observed mesh with other physical evidence? What was the actual truth of the particular situation?
In a way a visual artist who paints from nature or observed reality is a witness to the visual experience that becomes the painting. Can that observation actually be objective? Is the painted truth an objective truth that anyone observing the same scene would agree that, yes, that’s the way it was? Artists and spectators alike speak of capturing a scene, but to what extent is the result dependent upon verisimilitude? Is there also wiggle room for the artist to subjectively evaluate and render that scene with truth and validity? What is it that the artist is actually portraying that makes the painted scene truthful or not?
There has been much debate about illusionistic art, be it realism, impressionism, photorealism, or any other ism where observed reality is the basis for the painted experience. Many say that this kind of painting is a visual lie; it’s only deception and trickery. Maybe this charge could be hurled at trompe l’oeil painters since their intention is to fool the eye. I suspect, though, that even these painters would say that their painting is about more than the obvious mimicry.
What is it that a painter sees when observing a scene to be painted? I’m not even sure we can say for certain because different painters would give different answers to the question. Yes, most would allow that the basic design elements come into play – one looks for contrasts in shape, size, position, value, color, spatial movement, light and atmosphere. Unless one is painting under artificially controlled light, the actual light that reveals the elements may actually be constantly changing. This in turn can change the relationship of the elements. It is a given that a painting develops over a period of time. Hundreds, if not thousands, of observations are made by the painter during this process. In effect, that painted result is a synthesis of observation, repeated applications of paint, adjustments of color and texture, and numerous other variations that are based on moment by moment decisions. After a time what happens in the painting becomes more important than what is happening in the observed scene. The painter increasingly makes decisions based on the painting rather than the observed reality.
Where, then, is the truth in the observation of the painter? Isn’t it that what becomes most important is the observation of what is happening on the painted surface? The painted reality is a new reality in its own right. It no longer depends on that original experience of the observed reality, for that is only a distant memory. The painting is now where the artistic truth resides. (originally published 3/22/11)
Posted on 8/25/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
Recently we’ve had a lengthy dry spell that was broken by several days of deluge. This made me think of a blog written roughly four years ago about creative drought and then the times we seem inundated with creative ideas. Here is that post:
For most of the summer there has been little to no rain in Houston. On the upside, I have only mowed my yard once this entire summer with one additional small trimming of a section in the shade of a tree that stubbornly grew grass when no other area did. The ground cracked and pulled away from the foundation of the house. Some trees dropped a few crisp leaves, and the hedges in front of my house turned multiple shades of sickly yellow-green. Other portions turned rich brown. Surrounding counties within the past few weeks have suffered wildfires, and extreme wildfire danger signs can be seen all over the freeways of Houston. Day before yesterday we had a slight sprinkle of rain, but yesterday the rain came in waves on and off throughout the afternoon and well into the evening. This morning anyone could easily see that grasses, trees, and shrubs had perked up with the much-needed moisture.
Last evening’s coolness that extended into this morning was a pleasant reminder that soon (relatively speaking – in reality it will be several months) we will experience the cooler evenings and days of fall, a much-awaited season in this part of the world. What meteorologists call weather patterns are often very erratic shifts in atmospheric conditions that seem to follow no pattern at all. At best, they are quirky undulations that can be explained with highs and lows or influences of La Nina. This makes me wonder sometimes about those who have always known the luxury of air conditioning, for I can remember the sultry days and nights of no air conditioning when even the box fan in the window gave scant relief from the stifling humidity of coastal summers. There is something here about the creative process as an artist or writer.
So many different conveniences tend to insulate us from our experience of nature. We look for relief in our cars, our homes, the buildings where we work or shop or play. We steel ourselves for the blast of heat that sometimes takes one’s breath away as we step from the inside to the outside. Similarly the creative individual desires to dwell within the creative zone and to avoid those days of drought (or weeks or months). There are times, however, when the dry spells come. We can try to add water, to coax the creative life energy that already has withdrawn to some deep protective place, and to make our creative expression continue to bloom, to grow, to flourish, because, after all, we are professionals and shouldn’t be affected by shifts in the weather.
Perhaps this is a sign of maturity or age or abuse from life, but I don’t resist any longer those periods where nothing much seems to happen creatively. I don’t necessarily try to force anything to happen as so many self-help gurus suggest doing this or that to break through these barriers. Rather, I take these times as natural occurrences, perhaps hibernation, regeneration, respite – they could be called many things. I do keep productive doing the other things of interest to me and which always feed my creative energy in the best of times: reading, drawing, observing, thinking, making notes, taking pictures, going to galleries and museums, exploring film, talking with fellow artists or appreciating their work. There are many constructive activities that I don’t always do when in the midst of active creative expression that I can do when that expression wanes. No matter how long the seeming drought, there will always be that spot of rain that will bring its nourishing streams of creative flow. I have learned that much.
Posted on 8/24/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
“Vision is the art of seeing the invisible.” – Jonathan Swift. Some of my painting students sometimes say, “You see things that I don’t see” or “You see more than I do.” In a way they are right, but it isn’t because I have more gifted vision than they. Although, when I was quite a bit younger, friends did often call me eagle eye. I could easily find things that had been lost or misplaced: a ball hit out of bounds, a dropped coin, a golf ball in the rough. Sometimes I could see things at a distance better than others too. This latter, though, could be the result of them losing clarity of vision. What I have done through the years, however, is to train myself to actually see what I’m looking at, a relatively simple action that many people just don’t do. There is too much interference from competing sensations or the white noise from a cluttered mind.
We easily link the term vision with artists even when they are artists who don’t use vision as a primary tool of insight or expression – musicians or writers, for example. We do think of artists seeing differently, maybe more acutely, possibly more accurately, but certainly with more understanding of what they are observing. It is possible that artists generally are more attuned to their senses and more adept at learning to use them effectively. I certainly believe that to be true.
In the visual arts, aspiring artists spend countless hours observing and notating their observations through drawing and painting. They study shape and form, spatial relationships, colors, textures, and all the elements of fundamental design. They become used to seeing in a very active way. There is no great mystery about this. Certainly one may be predisposed with talent or creative intelligence or whatever, but it is the training that makes that person into an artist. The training may be formal or it may be self-directed. Either way the artistic skills are honed, and one of those skills is learning to see.
I do remember from graduate school a fellow student who frequently said that he didn’t see the need for doing so much drawing. The cutting edge art of the day (well before computers and digital images) did not require drawing, so why learn it? He was thinking collage, assemblage and photographic techniques, but he wasn’t thinking about how every discipline has fundamentals that enable the practitioner to do what he or she may want to do. He was trying to short-cut the process, but his creative insight suffered as a result of his lack of foresight. He did not see and, consequently, did not learn to see.
When Swift speaks of the art of seeing the invisible, he isn’t simply speaking about normal vision. I believe he is suggesting that artists do see more as they observe. They are making connections and associations with other things in relation to what they are seeing. They also are connecting an inner vision, a metaphorical vision, with whatever is in the outward reality. This may be a combination of intuition, knowledge, insight, imagination, and inspiration that converge and culminate in the artistic expression. The artistic output is then said to be expressive of the artist’s vision.
Posted on 8/23/2015 4:09:58 PM
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
Recently I re-watched a re-broadcast of the 1981 Simon and Garfunkel reunion concert in Central Park. During the set, among many favorites of the era, the duo sang the sixties anthem “Sounds of Silence.” This song has an alienated and critical air of despair, longing, and ultimate isolation within a modern urban environment. It is ironic being sung to an estimated 500,000 people gathered in one of the most famous urban parks in the world where the crowd and ultimate viewing audience are collectively communicant in their appreciation of and reverence for music as the voice of twentieth century generations. Since the concert was also filmed and broadcast, the audience was many times more than the thousands physically present.
Art communicates in many ways depending on the form and intention of the artist. The poetic lyrics of Paul Simon, who was the very first honoree for the George Gershwin Prize for popular music, have always been poignant and particularly American in their perspective. This form of music communicates both musically and lyrically in the oldest of poetic traditions, the sung narrative. Because the song is about lack of communication, though, especially the oxymoron at its core, it exists as a kind of Zen koan to the generation of baby boomers that have dealt with so much angst resulting from over-privilege, post-war depression mixed with Cold War anxiety, drug influence, and the beginning challenges of the Vietnam era.
Poets and lyricists have the luxury of creating visual images through words, and when blended with the right kinds of musical sounds and rhythms, the effects are even more powerful. Visual art gives us impressive images, but there is always silence in their messages. Viewers have to seek internally for whatever sounds may accompany the visual experience of a painting, drawing, or piece of sculpture. David Alfaro Siqueiros’ Echo of a Scream, 1937, is one painting that could be subtitled “The Sound of Silence,” for it could easily illustrate the idea of the cultural deafness to the sufferings of others as expressed in Simon’s song. The gigantic head of the crying emaciated child that hovers above and behind it in the painting visually echoes the agony if not actually the audible expression of a nameless, starving human child.
This is part of the irony of art particularly that which has a social conscience as part of its reason for being. It is performed in a celebratory setting as was the case with Simon’s “Sounds of Silence,” or as with Siqueiros’ painting, it is exhibited in the rarefied space of a gallery or museum far removed from the experience that is depicted. The expressed ideas, however, are fluid and are carried with us the audience to be recalled in memory and perhaps used as impetus to take reformative action in our personal lives day by day. In that sense, art does in fact mirror life for we can experience a multitude of thoughts and feelings while doing something that has no relation to what is being thought or felt. In effect, we experience irony in practically any given moment as there is some disparity between sensation, thought, or action except when we are totally focused on one action at hand (like the artist creating art or the athlete performing in his sport). That focus may produce positive results, which likely is our goal. Focus in one area also means possible neglect or ignorance of something else. That may be the price we pay as conscious beings.
Posted on 8/22/2015 7:41:27 PM
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
The military, including any branch of military service, is an organization built around a hierarchical structure like large corporations, educational institutions, and health care institutions especially hospitals. The military in particular requires absolute discipline, reliance on the chain of command, and the obeying of orders. Discipline is paramount, for in this organization more so than in others, any failure of discipline can mean loss of life and catastrophic outcomes. Military training, therefore, builds loyalty, obedience, and respect for leadership and has severe penalties for disobedience including lengthy incarceration, dishonorable discharge (which includes loss of any benefits), and in extreme cases, execution before a firing squad.
The arts, by contrast, are quite lax although it could be argued that within the theater, music, and dance, in fact all the performing arts, another kind of discipline is necessary in order to produce works that are unified, complete, and where all participants work as one to create the performance. Even the visual arts, and all forms that are in effect solo performances by individual artists, demand a type of discipline that allows for the highest quality works to be created. Though we may also associate intuition, spontaneity, freedom of expression, and personal independence with artists, most of them do have strong qualities like persistence, dedication, tenacity, diligence, and a healthy dose of discipline to do the work. In fact, anyone that performs any task that requires intense training in the use of multiple skill sets will incorporate discipline into the learning and practice of those skills.
Creativity itself can manifest in many different forms and need not only be associated with the manufacture of expressive art works. When thinking about art, however, most people do think of creativity as being its purview and will make statements like “I’m not very creative” or “I have no artistic ability” when they mean that they have no ability to make something visual or musical or anything usually thought of as artistic. Creativity is a way of thinking and then performing. Discipline is a way of being and doing. Either can be cultivated, but the latter is more often practiced since it applies to so many endeavors and is also associated with the idea of hard work (diligent practice). Creativity, on the other hand, often gets confused with the concept of talent, a so-called innate gift that some people have and others don’t. We could say talent is a form of genius, but that can get confusing since so many associate genius with intellectual brilliance especially in math or science or inventiveness.
Intelligence raises other questions, and psychologists are still arguing about all of these human traits. What is frequently observed is that certain people are highly adept at particular kinds of tasks be they expressive, artistic, intellectual, or athletic. All these areas have shared characteristics, and all of them employ discipline, creative thinking, applied skill, and perhaps most importantly, dedication and persistence to create viable results. Talent unutilized is as ineffective as intellect undeveloped. The real mystery may well be the source of that inner fire that drives one to succeed, what enables one to make use of the skills, talent, genius or whatever particular traits are called. This is the arena where individuals must look to themselves to find, develop, and exploit the inner strength from which all outward expression flows.
Posted on 8/21/2015 7:10:55 PM
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
I receive lots of e-mails daily from many different organizations: social, ecological, health, psychological, artistic, political (conservative and progressive), educational, business, and spiritual, among others. A recent one from Defenders of Wildlife came with the tagline, “Have you ever hugged an elephant?” Like many e-mails, this one was a request for support that also included information about the plight of elephants in the wild. Like other “trophy” animals, elephants face challenges from poachers and those involved in illegal hunting (most are familiar with the recent lion killing by an American dentist) or illegal trading in pelts, ivory, and various animal parts. We humans are famous for weirdly distorted views of the world and our so-called supremacy over other species. We have not been good tenders of the garden.
The truth is, though, that I have hugged an elephant, not just a cuddly, stuffed play animal given as a thank-you for supporting an organization, but an actual full-grown Indian elephant. This was a trained one that had been recruited (enslaved?) for the circus. I was able to sit on its back and ride it for a short distance, an experience I will never forget. The massive size of the animal is impressive as is its docility. It could easily, as has been portrayed in some films, have run rampant and taken out the entire group of puny humans had it been so inclined. If it knew how its relatives have been treated, it might have taken revenge, but it didn’t. Instead, it explored the curious among us with its trunk, sniffing and petting us as we stroked its tough hide and massive frame, and this it did with a delicacy and gentleness that belied its huge bulk and powerful potential. Astride its back, I could sense that incredible life force and energy equivalent to multiple versions of my own.
Anyone who has ever ridden a horse with some amount of sensitivity knows that the animal underneath is far more than a means of sport or transportation. A sense of bonding and respect for this fellow creature grows within the rider and some imagined understanding of what it is like to have the freedom and connection to nature that these creatures intuitively exude also is realized. They are sentient beings in ways that we will likely never understand given as we are to personification in human terms. Through our imagination, however, and our limbic response, we may remember something of our ancient connections as part of the same family tree even if we may not verbalize what goes back long before language came about.
Sometimes through art, we find ways to express ideas and feelings that are so deeply buried within us that mostly we are only able to fleetingly sense in a thunderstruck moment of intense feeling and almost knowing that we are profoundly a part of something that is older than memory and partakes of the silent glow of starlight and the pervasive energy of a constantly shifting universe. In that moment we may realize that the rider and the bearer are one and the same. We are of one source that simply appears in two forms, and that singularity and infinity are one and the same.
Posted on 8/20/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
Red Star
Unpredictability could be said to be a hallmark of life. We really never do know what is coming the next day though we plan and schedule and sometimes just go unconscious about tomorrow. This morning when it was supposed to be daylight, I drove south to work into a blinding rain under a massive black cloud that literally turned day into night. The three-lane highway that eventually leads to Galveston was packed with cars that barely moved. It took forty-five minutes to go fifteen miles on a road with a posted speed of sixty-five miles an hour. This was especially troubling since I had gone through two heavy rain showers yesterday.
I grew up within ten miles of the North Carolina coast and now live in Houston just thirty-five miles from the Gulf Coast. I’ve lived through dozens of hurricanes and the threat of many more. I’ve seen firsthand the devastating power of a category 2 storm and the far more destructive power of a category 5 hurricane. These storms are not to be ignored. Those who lived through Katrina in New Orleans have been extra wary ever since. Preparedness takes a bit of planning, but it is well worth the time and effort because even though storms are well tracked now, the outcome is still unpredictable.
Homeowners know the value of adequate home insurance. Those who live in flood prone areas are wise to add flood insurance since flood damage is typically not covered under regular insurance. Whatever small savings someone might garner from minimal or no insurance will prove to be very costly indeed in the case of damage from a disastrous situation. Insurance on business property is just common sense, and it is also deductible for tax purposes.
Where I’ve noticed some people falling short is after a predicted storm does not land where expected. When the next storm comes along, some people choose a no action option – it didn’t hit last time, so it won’t hit this time either. In 2005, Hurricane Rita was projected to hit Houston. Massive numbers of people were urged to evacuate to avoid the storm surge. I-45 was turned into a parking lot. People ran out of gas and water and food while stuck on the jammed freeway. The storm did not come, and residents were furious with their community leaders for what was perceived to be a false alarm and poor evacuation planning. When Ike came in 2008, very few people left, but the storm did hit; in fact, it came right up I-45 and straight into downtown Houston. Galveston was devastated, and there was massive damage throughout the Houston area. Some of the damage could have been averted had people responded as they should have to adequate early warnings.
Now many artists and galleries along with thousands of residents are reeling from the devastation caused by Hurricane Sandy. The cleanup will be long and difficult. Some may never fully recover. Those who do will more than likely make different plans for future natural challenges. Lessons learned the hard way may be costly, but they are not so easily forgotten.
Preparation is always crucial. Most painters take great care creating their paintings. They use quality materials and use them properly to create paintings that will last many years. They will not shortcut value for the sake of saving a few pennies. Why should they take risks then with the completed art by not properly handling, storing, and insuring it against potential loss or damage? If care is taken in the making of the work, then care should also be taken after the work is completed. Even if there is no storm, there can always be the threat of fire, burst pipes, vandalism, or theft. Just as an artist takes care to prepare a surface for painting, so it is wise to prepare one’s art business for the unpredictable circumstance.
Posted on 8/19/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
To continue my republishing series, I have included this entry.
An aspect of the arts that may not exactly be controversial but is often the source of disagreement because it is so difficult to be clear about is taste. If we speak of food, we know that taste is important. No one particularly enjoys something bland. We may enjoy sweet flavors but not overly so. We may even like some things that have tartness but not biting or sour. Most would enjoy something with a full, rich flavor, but even here there can be wide-ranging preference for what may be somewhat challenging to define. We like certain foods or we don’t.
I like many vegetables, for example, but I don’t like anything that is too pithy or stringy. I love both asparagus and broccoli, but each can be too tough and stringy. On those I would pass. When it comes to green beans, however, I simply will not eat them. My aversion goes back to early childhood, and while the green bean is often a staple in southern cooking, I have never been able to acquire a taste for them.
When we use taste to express like or dislike for something other than food or drink, we speak metaphorically. Yet it is very common to say that one has a taste for good books, fine clothes, or even things unusual. Taste becomes something of a catch-all, and may often be the easy way out. One doesn’t have to be very precise or specific when expressing taste. As a result, when taste is used to suggest cultural preferences, it frequently means that good taste is in alignment with our own and bad taste is not. Discussions of taste often suggest prejudicial thinking, and this can easily lead to disagreement, miscommunication, or worse.
I enjoy many types of music and equally enjoy many kinds of visual art. I’ve tried to educate myself in areas that initially challenged me, sometimes to success where I find enjoyment when at first I did not. By moving beyond my initial prejudice, by asking questions, by learning about motivations, desires, and designs, my level of appreciation grows. There are, however, certain artistic expressions that, like my aversion to green beans, I’ve never been able to develop a taste for. I find them repulsive, inconsequential, and without redeeming value. I understand there is some cultural conditioning at work, but I just don’t like them and find myself saying or thinking that they’re distasteful.
Culturally, I think we recognize this. We have a saying, “there’s no accounting for taste.” This can be an excuse and maybe even a cop-out. Artists, I think, generally are critical thinkers, but as individuals we all have blind spots. The truly critical person will attempt to understand before outright dismissal. As said before, taste and prejudice sometimes walk hand in hand. If we can avoid offensiveness, maybe the gut response that taste often generates can be a guide. I would hope, though, that we can continue to question even some of our most ardent beliefs. Not questioning, for me, would be an example of exhibiting poor taste.
Posted on 8/18/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
Working an incredibly busy schedule this week leaves no time for blogging, so here is another reboot of a piece that resonates still.
While driving into town this morning as I do most mornings, I listened to NPR and the Diane Rehm Show. In the second hour she interviewed classical pianist Simone Dinnerstein who after many years of struggle is now experiencing success. The pianist was very eloquent in discussing her approach to music, how the piano is a means to her expressing her musicality rather than the focus as particular instrument, and how she strives to make her sound full of light and lyricism rather than be percussive. The teacher that most influenced Simone’s playing and approach helped her change her playing technique. The teacher taught her to arch her hands as though she were holding small oranges. This was counter to her previous playing style where she kept her hands flat, which forced her fingers to lift high. The teacher stressed the connection of fingers to hand, hand to arm, arm to shoulder, shoulder to back, thus creating greater control through use of the entire body while playing. The artist said that she now has more control over the sound she produces.
As I listened, I thought of a ballroom dance instructor I know who is an absolute master of the body as an instrument for expressing rhythm. Certain ballroom dances, particularly various swing dances, utilize turns and spins for both partners. Spins, especially, are challenging and require balance, speed, timing, and grace. Gilbert stresses the position of the head in relation to the spine, the hips, the knees, and the feet. A proper spin is not a wind-up torque that then untwists in the direction of the spin. A proper spin turns the body as a unit on the ball of one foot around the center of gravity with the head leading; the eyes spot a fixed location to avoid dizziness. In the beginning stages of learning to do this, many people pedal with one foot to push themselves around. Gilbert will spin on one foot while the other lightly skims the floor next to the weighted foot. This keeps both feet, both knees, and hips parallel as he spins. Sometimes he will demonstrate by placing a sheet of paper underneath the non-weight bearing foot. As he spins, he will drag the piece of paper around with him. The delicacy of contact between foot, paper, and floor is intriguing to contemplate.
One very challenging task for novice painters is gaining control of the brush. One can demonstrate and describe the difference between heavy and light touches of the brush to canvas, but the novice has to learn from much trial and error to control the amount of pressure applied in order to achieve satisfactory results. The size, shape, and springiness of the brush is also important as well as the consistency and amount of paint loaded onto the brush. The painter has to learn the difference between controlled small movements of the hand and fingers as well as large sweeping gestures made by full arm movement. In a sense, there is a delicate dance being done across the surface of the painting which sometimes requires subtlety of movement and sometimes daring bravado.
How a painter makes marks on the canvas is often referred to as his or her handwriting. I understand the comparison, but I also believe that the differences between handwriting and painting are worth noting. Handwriting is a distinctly determined use of the writing instrument. The grasp is generally firm and the movement limited to hand and wrist. Most people keep a fairly consistent pressure as they write. Painting with a brush, or drawing with most any instrument, is a much more varied, nuanced, and often delicate procedure. The grip itself can vary hugely from overhand to underhand, from a firm grasp of the entire hand to a delicate grasp with a few fingers. Whether the brush is held close to the ferrule like a writing instrument or near the end of the handle can make tremendous difference in the kind of stroke that is made. Experimentation, practice, and some use of imagination will help the novice develop the delicate touch as well as the good sense when to use it.
Posted on 8/16/2015 6:30:59 PM
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
Weeks of triple and near triple-digit late summer weather has me wistful for cooler times. It seems appropriate to re-read this springtime post from several years ago. I do feel a bit cooler already.
Today began with fog and seemingly overcast skies and temperature in the low sixties. The forecast called for partly cloudy with the temperature topping out at eighty-eight. Today was also scheduled for our annual trip to see my friend Dorothy, a former painting student who lives in the country north west of Houston near Waller. Dorothy turned ninety-six recently (same age as my dad), and every year about this time my wife and I visit her and go with her to see the wildflowers. Dorothy also bakes the best Texas pecan pie in the state, and since there is no pecan pie better than that from Texas, then Dorothy’s is the best there is period.
Late heavy rains have fueled the growth of wildflowers this year. For several years in a row there has been a dearth of bluebonnets and paintbrush, but this year proved more than promising. As the weather cleared early, we soon discovered we weren’t the only ones out enjoying it. Many people just cruise along major highways or go to specific towns like Chappel Hill or Navasota. Dorothy and her daughter take us along numerous back roads crisscrossing through the heart of bluebonnet country.
Even so, part of our route coincided with that of a bicycle rally. We found ourselves sometimes behind dozens of bikers huffing their way up the rolling hills. We decided to take a detour to Washington on the Brazos State Park to use their facilities. In the past when we had come mid-week or on a Friday, the park was usually sparsely attended. This Saturday it was the meeting place for antique car enthusiasts. At least a hundred vintage Fords and other unknown makes lined the park’s roads. Model A’s, model T’s, and later models of roadsters, convertibles, and pick-up trucks, all immaculately restored and brightly painted, continued to converge on the park from every possible direction.
Soon we left there and headed back into the country, passed through Chappel Hill where the bicycle rally officially ended, and went on to Navasota for lunch. For most of the morning and early afternoon, though, we explored numerous fields of bluebonnets, Indian paintbrush, wine cups, daisies, blooming huisache trees (sweet acacia), thistles, and varieties of unknown wildflowers. Plus I got to explore an old cotton gin and several dilapidated barns, a country staple almost anywhere. From macro to panoramic, I shot well over a hundred photographs, some for future painting reference and some for photographic experimentation.
An artistic sojourn that can be combined with friends and family sharing is a blissful treat. A day in the country for a city dweller is also a most welcomed respite. Thirty minutes on a front porch swing with only the sounds of birdsong, cattle lowing, and the rustle of windblown boughs will soothe my dreams for many weeks to come.
Posted on 8/15/2015 5:14:58 PM
By Donald Fox
2 Comments
Throughout life we are given lots of advice, most of it well-meaning, and much of it comes in the form of metaphorical clichés. For example, one such sage tip is “don’t paint yourself into a corner.” The meaning here is readily apparent – if painted into a corner, you’re stuck and have no exit, at least not until the paint dries. Literally, then, the advice should apply to short term situations, for when the paint does dry, you can easily remove yourself and complete the paint job by painting the area in which you were confined. We usually learn, though, that the advice isn’t meant literally and refers to placing yourself in a difficult situation. A bit of pre-planning will enable anyone to avoid these challenging circumstances most of the time. At least, whatever the challenge, it won’t be made worse by lack of foresight.
Visual artists, notably painters, sometimes do work without a particular plan. The painting process is spontaneous and requires heightened sensitivity in order for a painting to have a successful outcome. The artist – to use another well-worn phrase – is working without a net. There is, perhaps, higher risk with spontaneous painting, also known as improvisational, extemporaneous, automatic, in-the-moment, blind attack, or flying by the seat of the pants painting. Certainly there is no guarantee that the produced painting will work. That is taken for granted, for even with carefully planned work there is no guarantee, but the success rate is likely much higher than with spontaneous work. Still, art of any kind is challenging and fraught with potential disasters. Pretty much all painting is a kind of performance piece with the finished painting standing as a record of that performance.
Some years ago a British artist, who was teaching at the University of Houston, said in an interview that some days, at the end of the day, the best thing to do (with a painting) is to scrape it down and start again. One thing that most artists learn early on is how to start over.
Posted on 8/14/2015 8:01:05 PM
By Donald Fox
2 Comments
Civil rights and equal rights are different issues. The first has to do with protection against discrimination based on race, gender, sexual orientation, religious belief, age, or disability. In short, individuals are guaranteed equal protection under the law. Equal rights, or simply equality, has come to mean no disparity between men and women particularly as seen in male-dominated cultures (Victorian England of the recent past or many Islamic cultures presently). In many so-called civilized countries there have been movements at times to abolish certain types of discrimination. One historical precedent in the United States goes back to the abolition of slavery and the long struggle to establish civil rights for African-Americans. Many relevant issues are still not resolved.
Sexual discrimination is far more long-standing as it is likely that women were dominated by men before there was slavery. Some women might argue that subservient female societal roles is a form of slavery. Throughout recorded history, however, the story is more often one of male dominance even though there are certain very powerful women rulers and other figures at different times (Queen Hatshepsut, Cleopatra, Catherine the Great, and others). The Bible mostly casts women in secondary roles as the concept of God is also patriarchal. No doubt in many men’s minds this justifies their sense of entitlement.
If we trace the arc of art history, we see the same concepts played out through millennia. When artists become recognized, it generally is the male artist that is represented in historical context. Occasionally, women artists may make a name for themselves in music, the visual arts or the dramatic arts prior to the Renaissance, but these are rare. Gradually there is a shift the closer we come to modern times with the twentieth century showing the most gains for women in Western art. The internet has removed the last institutional barriers for women, and it is likely as women continue to move into positions of power in other arenas, there will also be ever increasing numbers of successful women artists. Cultural attitudes, on the other hand, especially those influenced by religious beliefs, often die hard for entrenched religious traditions are enormously powerful and are actively taught with the individual subservient to society and society to God, and this frequently also means women subservient to men. What is the likelihood of there ever being a woman pope, for example?
Perhaps there will be a time when it truly does not matter whether art is created by either male or female. The only question will concern the efficacy of the work rather than the gender of its maker.
Posted on 8/13/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
An unfinished painting in the studio is like a lonely lover awaiting return of the beloved. Across town the painter’s thoughts stray to the bereft canvas, imagines her reclining delicately against the easel back, a slightly flirtatious gleam on the surface as the sun caresses painted curves through the skylight. What if there were a stroke of pale red like the tone of just kissed lips, slightly parted, taking in the brief touch and already anticipating the next? A haunting ballad wafts through the air. The shadow of a cat crosses the doorframe of the closed studio. The distant rumble of thunder hums the promise of rain.
How many hours till closing time, and the painter will stride toward the exit, cross the threshold into the searing heat of late afternoon summer, and hastily press into the driver’s seat, eager to propel himself through rush hour traffic, onto the beltway to soar unimpeded above the stop and go maelstrom of half angry, stressed-out workers dreaming their own dreams of home and shower, dinner and bed. The painter sees his canvas and whispers that he is coming, a poem of love and promise, a sigh of resignation that it has been too long.
Might she wait until the evening? There is no telling when that moment of excitement loses its appeal, the fire grows dim, and the color hardens in the tube. Her character is not quite set, yet a fickle hand may do more to harm than follow the flow that was cut short in that early blush of love. Constancy is the thing. Follow the heart and let the passion flow. The two are bound to meet in the end.
Posted on 8/12/2015
By Donald Fox
1 Comment
Two aspects of my mind that have always been clear to me are my vivid memories of specific events and my active imagination. When I made the decision many years ago to improve my writing skills, I did so by focusing on childhood memories about which I wrote regularly as a disciplined way to better how I expressed my thoughts in words on paper. Memory provided abundant details of many experiences. It seemed quite easy to conjure up clear images of events, circumstances, friends, and specific people I had encountered sometime during those childhood years. With practice, and also aided by extensive reading of creative non-fiction, I crafted my own personal narratives that others seemed to enjoy reading. Feedback from fellow writers and writing groups helped me to improve that writing voice.
As I contemplated the distant past, I did so with awareness of my long-standing imaginative reveries. In school I daydreamed a lot. I was something like Walter Mitty long before I encountered that character in a story. It was not, however, until I shared a narrative with a friend that had been part of that written experience that I began to question the power and efficacy of memory as a reliable source of personal information. My memory of the events was crystal clear, but his account was somewhat different from mine.
Psychologists say that we continually recreate our memories, not that we intentionally misremember or even consciously alter what we remember (selective memory). We do tend to elaborate by enhancement or fill in gaps in our episodic memory (those memories of experiences where we were physically present as witness to our own actions). Perhaps this is a bit like the mind’s attempt at perceptual closure where we will read dashes as a complete circle or square when the dashes are appropriately placed to suggest one of those figures. The mind may simply want to complete a story that is incomplete or not fully remembered. I do know that sometimes while telling someone about a past experience I seem to remember more of the details, but it is possible that instead of remembering I am actually making up part of the story in order to complete it in the moment. My mind casts it as remembering the events when parts of them are newly fictional.
Maybe this is what all storytellers and artists do in the creation of work. A feeling or emotional response is acting like a memory as it serves to stimulate a creative act. There is also conscious manipulation of ideas and/or materials on the part of the painter, sculptor, or musician. And most any artist will work and rework an image or idea to coax out of it the desired look or feel or response – what most artists know as that sense of rightness about a work as it progresses toward completion. There is a converging of inspiration, feeling, thought, action, association, memory (sometimes), and trained sensibility that make that work into what it ultimately becomes. It is possible that the mind uses visualization, thought, feeling, and desire for completeness, for resolution to mold a partial memory into something complete like a work of art. That is simple conjecture, of course. I’m not sure how that idea could be tested since most of the experience is subjective. There is no way to observe a memory that is complete (if one ever is) and compare it to one that is partial and then transformed into a fabricated new complete memory.
None of this may make any difference, and it may have no bearing on crystalized memory, that body of learned information that mostly we recall with accuracy, especially those remembered facts that we frequently use and thus hold longer as functional memory. If, however, what we call reality is, as some philosophers (or spiritual thinkers) say, a creation of our thoughts, then maybe everything is constantly in flux including the past, and vision, illusion, and delusion are not so very far apart or maybe are one and the same.
Posted on 8/11/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
If a work of art is based on nature, let’s use a painting as an example since this is easiest to imagine, does the impact of the painting come from the subject or the artist’s treatment of the subject? Nature can be awe inspiring, overpowering, or possibly deadly and devastating. Most people respond positively to scenic views, colorful sunsets, or a clear sky graced with a saturated rainbow. Good color photography could adequately capture any of these settings and provide the viewer with a satisfying aesthetic experience. The experience would be different from the natural one, but that would be expected and may prompt the viewer to mentally compare past experience with the represented one. A painter could do equally as well as the photographer at capturing the natural scene and may have several advantages.
One advantage would be point of view. The artist could create an imaginary view of a scene from an extreme perspective not allowed to the photographer. This could add dramatic effect to the image. Additionally, the painter could enhance the color scheme (although an adept digital photographer could photo-shop the image as well). How the painter chose to manipulate the physical qualities of the paint might be another advantage over the photograph, but now a more extreme shift away from the natural image is beginning to occur. Artistry in the rendering may actually supersede the natural image as in the case of many Impressionist or Post-Impressionist landscapes. Compare these, for example, with landscapes from the Hudson River school of painters. In the former one becomes very conscious of the paint surface, and in the latter not so much unless the painting is observed very closely. Even so, the Hudson River painters did not typically paint in the loose manner of the Impressionists or the methodical style of a painter like Cézanne.
There are thousands of years of art based on nature and natural imagery. This obviously is a very important subject for human expression. Perhaps this is because we are products of nature ourselves in spite of our efforts to control her and to insulate ourselves from her vagaries. People might even be considered a particular bloom of the Earth: plants flower and the Earth peoples. If plants could think and express themselves, they might make some form of art beyond their own magnificent selves, and this art would likely be nature based just as is our own.
Even when we begin to think abstractly, we often look to nature for ways to express visually. There is such a wealth of intricate designs in nature from microcosm to macrocosm that sometimes abstract art echoes natural forms without the artist being conscious of that fact. Later the connection is made that certain abstract paintings seem related or even derivative of natural forms found in rock formations, plant growth patterns, or other irregular patterns in bark, animal markings, the movement of waves, or the accumulated forms within a pile of leaves. We can also find the most intricate color interactions, harmonies, and modulations in an incredible range of natural subjects.
Is art about seeing ourselves through the forms of nature? Is it an automatic response to the complexity of sensory input that our bodies process constantly, i.e. art is another way to understand, make sense of, or represent the world to ourselves that adds a subtle twist to the commonplace interpretive process wherein we programmatically translate sensory experience into meaningful perception? We are a curious lot – there is no question about that. We have many centuries of evidence to prove it.
It may well be that art is natural expression on many levels. We make art based on our observations of and experiences with nature. We make art as naturally as we breathe or eat or reproduce. We make art as a questioning response to the awe-inspiring experience of life. We make art to connect spiritually to the cosmos and to our maker. We make art to mirror the processes of life. We make art to celebrate our connection to the world we inhabit. We make art to explore the possibilities of life and existence. We make art to ponder the unanswerable questions humans have been asking since gaining self-awareness. Perhaps we make art because it is what we are meant to do – we create simply for the sake of creating as naturally as a flower blooms, a bird sings, or a rainbow glows in the sky.
Posted on 8/10/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
Giovanni Stanchi - Still Life
Art has many purposes, some of which are the intended ideas of the artist, but sometimes other purposes develop over time. I have many early paintings of subjects, especially landscapes, that no longer exist in the form they were painted however many years ago. The landscape has changed, and each painting now stands as a chronicle of what the landscape looked like at a particular point in time. We could same the same of portraits. No sitter looks like his or her portrait done ten years ago, but we accept that as typical of that form of art. We can also learn social and cultural ideas about people and places from paintings of a particular time period. We simply need to observe with awareness what may be included in a painting. We can learn a lot about what Flemish and Dutch people ate and drank during the Dutch Golden Age of painting by studying their abundant still life paintings.
A recent article on the Smithsonian website points to obvious changes in a commonly enjoyed fruit like watermelon. The 17th century still life by Giovanni Stanchi painted sometime between 1645 and 1672 has come up for auction at Christie’s. The watermelon that has been cut in half and then had a slice removed from one half, looks nothing like modern day watermelons. There is a wide white space between the outer skin and the inner red pulp, and the pulp itself makes something of a star-shaped pattern within the fruit. This fruit does not look nearly as appetizing as the luscious fruit any Southerner is familiar with during the hot summer months as a sweet, watery means of cooling off or enlivening many a backyard gathering.
The article suggests that domestication of this fruit and selective breeding had produced what we know today as various kinds of succulent watermelons. The fruit in the painting looks quite strange to modern eyes unless, perhaps, one has never seen watermelon at all. This one example of something familiar appearing quite unfamiliar is not unlike seeing the ordinary dress of sixteenth or seventeenth people, completely normal for their time, and us calling their attire costumes for the almost exotic visage as they appear to our contemporary perspective.
Art does document, intentionally and unintentionally, the world around the artist and the mindset of the artist, and sometimes both simultaneously, while passing these along to future generations. Much of what we know about earlier times and customs comes from art that has been left behind. In addition to chronicling these outward changes for future generations, art also creates continuity with the past, for artists often look backward as a means for going forward. Artists pay homage to predecessors and often consider their current work something of a dialog with past art, either bringing past ideas into the present or building new ideas upon past accomplishments.
To read the brief article and see an image of the painting, go to:
Posted on 8/9/2015 6:10:30 PM
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
Many things can attract a painter to a landscape: lighting, shapes, textures. Colors, and various combinations of these. A composition suggests itself in the painter’s mind and point of view is selected. From this point a painter con proceed in a variety of ways, and each painter will make his/her own choices based on personal sensitivity and interest. Whether to turn left or right is a conscious choice although the painter may proceed largely on trained instinct, not an oxymoron. The painter over time learns to trust spontaneous judgment that functions more quickly than thought put into words. The painter has been trained to act, and vision, conception, color choice, line, and shape all begin to interact on the canvas as the painting develops.
This process is not very different from that of the abstract painter. One primary diversion might be that the abstractionist has an idea that needs to be visualized or he finds the idea in a moment of spontaneous splashing of color or shape upon the canvas. Once the internal becomes external, the artist proceeds much like the perceptual painter except that reliability of an observed scene is replaced by an emotive response to the internal idea or to the image that has been generated in moments of creative play. This latter might be compared to a musician improvising on his instrument. The form and function are discovered in the process of creating.
Posted on 8/8/2015 5:48:16 PM
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
“The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.” (Aristotle, Poetics)
I am not a Greek scholar nor do I aspire to be, but I find it fascinating that thousands of years ago Greek philosophers and aestheticians identified concepts and purposes for art that continue into present day. We may differ in language and finer points, but essentially many today agree that the best art appeals to both the intellect and the emotions. This idea is central to Aristotle’s concept of art. He also identified that art functions as a purgative for the emotions. All of us can build up emotional stress in our daily lives – whether stress today is more challenging and pervasive than in Aristotle’s day is an arguable point – and art, especially in the form of theater, but by extension all art, can create catharsis, a moment of release of emotional tension for the characters and story line in a play but also for the audience experiencing the play. In fact, in the classical narrative format catharsis is required as part of the structure. As action proceeds to a climax all brought on by choices made by the protagonist, the audience moves with the story and “feels” the emotions of the character(s) and may even struggle with the philosophical or moral dilemmas facing him/her (them).
In other forms of art, the audience can experience similar engagement that calls for both intellectual and emotional response to the work. There may not be the same kind of narrative build-up, but demand is placed nevertheless upon the audience to understand personal response, and this can be cathartic for there is some form of challenge presented by the work. Artists in all artistic forms create a kind of internal tension that makes the work effective. There have been attempts at eliminating emotional content from art and removing anything that creates tension, but these attempts produce work that has little lasting value. This judgment is, of course, subjective, and there may be those that argue that a large undifferentiated field of color in a mural-sized painting can be affective because of the dominance of its size alone. No other content is required. This might be somewhat illogical, however, since we’re now dealing with emotional impact on the viewer even though there is no emotional content within the work. Dominance of space substitutes for more traditional content.
The most successful art of the past has been that which has a level of complexity. The complexity may challenge the viewer through narrative structure, through ideological content, through interaction of design elements, or through a combination of these. The viewer/audience can come back to the work again and again and learn-see-experience something new each time. This creates a prolonged aesthetic experience for the audience and provides opportunity for questioning and learning about the work and the self as experiencer of the work. This interactive process also provides emotional relationship with the work that is like that experienced in other real-life relationships with fellow humans and aspects of the world. The inward significance of art as described by Aristotle mirrors that inward significance created by each of us for the things we experience.
Posted on 8/6/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
It is very likely that prejudice exists in all areas of human endeavor. It may also be true that everyone is prejudiced to some degree or has prejudicial attitudes about something. According to Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, prejudice means “the inclination to take a stand (as in a conflict) usually without just grounds or sufficient information.” This suggests our general thinking of prejudice as being a negative quality. It also suggests that prejudice is an emotional response and not a logical one. A person, for example, favors a particular point of view to the point that anyone holding a contrary point of view is considered stupid, ignorant, mistaken, outright wrong, or is the enemy and completely undesirable. We call extremists of any kind prejudiced in their beliefs and behaviors. Perhaps much of this is rightfully so, or so it would seem from the outside looking in. We may explain (and to a degree understand) why someone holds prejudicial views, but it’s not likely we’ll condone the beliefs or behaviors that are hurtful or demeaning to others in any way.
We can agree to disagree, but there will be a line that once crossed can result in actions that cannot be undone – forgiven, perhaps, but no manner of reparations can make up for certain inflicted damages. This is the challenge always that follows the secession of armed conflict. A truce may be called and treaties signed, but the prejudices that contributed to the conflict initially will linger for some time. We may have to look to a new generation for the feelings to subside and possibly disappear altogether. Yet many prejudices are perpetuated from generation to generation. We see this continually in conflicts in the Middle-East, in ethnic enclaves in certain parts of Europe, Africa, South America, and within the United States. Racism, sexism, and all the other isms of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries appear to fluctuate rather than dissipate. Feelings may die down for a spell, but the smallest event can bring past issues of slight and wrong-doing right back to the surface.
Is there prejudice in art? I would say definitely yes. There are very strong feelings on either side of the realism versus abstraction debate, or traditionalism versus modernism, if one chooses to frame it that way. Arguments on either side are often more emotional than rational and can range from vehement expression to simple bias or partiality for one side or the other. The issues behind preferences get muddy when feeling runs high because any possible reasonable debate sinks quickly into name-calling and pejorative labeling. This is sad to see, especially when some tend to promote controversy for self-serving reasons (this is not relegated solely to the media these days).
I grew up around racial prejudice in the South during a time of segregation and pre-civil rights. I saw racial bias first hand in my family, and this left me with strong attitudes about narrow-mindedness and ignorance. Thankfully I escaped the prejudicial attitudes and managed to learn to see people as people regardless of skin color, religious beliefs, or other persuasions. I count myself fortunate in that regard, but I’m also aware that being around so much judgment has influenced my own judgmental attitudes – I admittedly do sometimes judge the judgmental. I have tried, however, to understand my likes and dislikes from a reasoned perspective, which means that I do challenge my own beliefs and recognize that there have been shifts in my thinking over the years. This is true about my responses to people, and it’s true about my responses to art and culture. I play with irony and with humor and recognize that although art is very important in my life (and by extension within culture, the latter being supportively arguable from many perspectives), it is but one among many ways that humanity has expressed itself through millennia. I choose to make art because I feel it is important, but not everyone would agree or necessarily like what I make. This is where my educator side kicks in and my personal desire to enlighten the world shines forth.
Posted on 8/5/2015
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
I first encountered Hedy Lamarr when I was about ten years old in a late Friday night film screening of White Cargo on my home town television station. It didn’t matter that the film was in black and white because it was a black and white only television. It would be several years before we acquired a color TV (or the local station was able to transmit in color). A few years later I saw her again in Samson and Delilah when she played opposite Victor Mature (what a great stage name for a macho actor). I didn’t remember much about the plot of White Cargo, but the beautiful actress certainly stuck in my mind. However, it was not until many years later that I began to piece together more about film history and the somewhat tragic life story of Hedy Lamarr.
It seems that the arts are filled with artists of various kinds that make a strong impression with their work only to later be ignored, abused, or forgotten. When fame and recognition comes, many do not handle it well, some are taken advantage of by unscrupulous spouses, agents, or other promoters. Many die in obscurity and impoverishment. Success does not mean a fairy tale ending, and fortune is often fleeting. This was true in some ways of Hedy Lamarr, but her story is also unique.
Once Hedy Lamarr was considered by many to be the most beautiful woman in Hollywood. Her film career spanned several decades, but there were hiatuses of several years during this period, and though she was quite popular for a time, her numerous marriages to controlling husbands interfered with her creative pursuits. Also, she happened to be exceedingly bright as well as beautiful, something that Hollywood did not utilize. Perhaps her intellect interfered with her marriages to successful but rather dull men, several of whom had reputations as playboys.
Well after her movie fame had faded and she lived a reclusive life, she gained recognition for an invention she and composer George Antheil co-developed during World War II that was to utilize spread spectrum and frequency hopping technology to create jamming-free guidance systems for torpedoes, but the design was rejected by U.S. forces. However, in the sixties, the U.S. Navy adopted similar technology. Ultimately, this technology became responsible for cell phones, Wi-Fi, and Bluetooth communications. Hecy Lamarr was recognized, finally earned millions for work done decades earlier, and was inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame (although posthumously).
Many aspects of her life were difficult, unrewarding, or contrary to what she desired, but she will be remembered, as has been the case with many other artists, some of whose stories are far more tragic. She created one of the great Hollywood cultural icons, and her story stands as an example of how the concept of beauty can be a distraction from someone’s true nature. Brilliance, sadly, is ignored or not recognized when cultural perception is prejudiced towards youth and beauty. What might Hedy Lamarr have accomplished had her ingenuity been nurtured rather than her appearance?
Posted on 8/4/2015
By Donald Fox
2 Comments
Being an artist is a choice. Any person may have aptitude for creative thinking, expression, curiosity, innate ability, that elusive thing called talent, or other qualities with which we may describe artists, but actually being an artist is a choice. One has to do the work, be expressive, make some artistic statement, produce, or whatever other way the doing of the creative activity is stated. This may or may not include actually representing oneself as an artist. The concept may simply be embodied rather than calculated, but the doing of the activity, the actual creation is a choice.
For some the choice might include retreating to a remote enclave and becoming a hermit. The work that is done is for some visionary higher purpose and has nothing to do with the world of the marketplace, galleries, collectors, museums, or the auction block. There is no concern about becoming a part of history or making a mark in the world. The commitment is to the work. We might consider this person eccentric, asocial, or misanthropic, but if we start looking at the broad spectrum of artistic personalities throughout history, we find quite a range of seeming peculiarities, and these not only among artists. The ones called misfits have contributed to the popular idea of the artist as the outsider, the slightly deranged, the one disinterested in social order, perhaps even the anarchist. And yet, we see many artists who are as traditional, as conventional, and as ordinary as anyone else (dare we say Norman Rockwell?) but just happens to make pictures or music or poetry.
The artistic choice, however, is a personal one, and that choice also involves the decision of what the choice actually means – the individual defines his or her role as a creative person. We can think there may be patterns to follow – artists can have heroes just as others may – but many artists conclude that they don’t need to fit a pattern. What others may think has no bearing on what happens in the creative process, and it is that process, that highly individualized process, that most artist find paramount as part of their creative being-ness.
Still, at this point in time given all the influences as a result of connectivity, accessibility of information, and the emphasis on belonging to some tribe or other, the artist may find him or herself assaulted from many directions, which can be full frontal or surreptitious and which nonetheless can affect the ability to work or the work itself. Probably the majority of artists, being human, desire to be recognized for what they do especially since they tend to think that what they do matters. But for whatever personal reasons – call them integrity, perseverance, self-actualization, self-confidence, or egotism – the committed artist will continue to work regardless of outcome. It is the art that matters. It is the making of the art that matters. For the artist, doing and being are one and the same.
Posted on 8/3/2015
By Donald Fox
2 Comments
If you lived in the American southwest, I might ask you what is the worst storm that you’ve experienced? Maybe you remember a strong thunderstorm that had lots of lightning and the accompanying claps of thunder. You might say the lightning was so bright it nearly blinded you or the thunder was so close and loud that it nearly knocked you from your chair. Very likely, though, that storm lasted less than an hour. What if you experienced that storm for three or four or six hours? That is what can happen with a hurricane. Hurricanes are powerful, potentially devastating storms that you can’t really know or even imagine without living through one.
Even so, the difference between a category one and a category five hurricane is far more than a simple difference in numbers. A category one hurricane has a minimum sustained wind speed of seventy-four miles per hour. A category five hurricane can have sustained winds in excess of one hundred forty miles an hour with gusts exceeding two hundred mph. These storms can last for hours depending on how large they are in diameter and how fast they move. A storm two hundred miles across moving at ten miles an hour (both reasonable estimates) would take twenty hours in theory to pass a fixed point assuming all measurements remained the same. Can you imagine experiencing such force for twenty hours?
In reality, forces change – depending on atmospheric conditions, a storm may speed up or slow down. Crossing a land mass will weaken a storm since it draws its power from warm bodies of water, and moving consistently over land will eventually cause the storm to dissipate. Should you happen to be close to the coast where a hurricane first makes landfall, however, you’re in for quite a few hours of incredibly scary excitement.
What if the storm is internally generated? What if the hurricane is a powerful surge of creative energy that just like a natural storm builds gradually, but when conditions are right can intensify geometrically? This kind of energetic buildup is what artists live for. They would fan the flames of such a firestorm to be able to direct that energy into creative construction rather than destruction. And fortunately, this kind of energetic outflow is not seasonal like hurricanes and some other natural phenomena. There do need to be favorable conditions and sources of fuel however, but these are things that artists provide for themselves.
It can be as simple as doing begetting more doing. Most artists know the kinds of things that give them creative ideas and energy. Yes, inspiration can strike like a bolt out of the blue, but just as athletes train for their athletic performance, artist also train to be ready for whenever inspiration does strike. They also continually prime the artistic pump by surrounding themselves with artistic images, ideas, sounds, colors – in short, anything that even remotely stimulates the artistic imagination, and they continually work with the creative process. “Blow ye winds,” the artist will shout from atop an aesthetic cliff while raising a metal rod to call down bolts from Thor, Zeus, Jupiter, Indra, or any obliging electric deity. The storm of artistic activity need not disperse as it crosses mountain or desert for the world of sensory experience is the engine that stokes creativity.
Posted on 8/2/2015 5:58:58 PM
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
When I was a kid libraries were places to go to access information and acquire knowledge. Movies gave entertainment and information in the newsreels that preceded every featured picture. I remember well those Movietone newsreels that sometimes today can be seen on the Turner Classic Movie channel. The news, however, was always several weeks behind and would seem ridiculous in today’s instant connection world. Television was the next major step in mass communication, but that was limited in its early days. Much of the programming originated locally, and huge blocks of time were filled by the airing of films from the thirties and forties. This is when I developed my love of film as I saw many of the classics before I knew they were classic. When nightly national news became a staple of growing networks, the real dissemination of information began, and the world began to shrink, though for most people with access to television, the world appeared to grow in dimension and complexity. By the time I was in high school, I had a pretty good understanding of the larger world though it would some years yet before I was able to travel and see it firsthand.
I’m sure that at times younger people that have only known television and computers, the internet via cellphones, and the connections of social media, the past of their parents seems quite ancient and primitive. I don’t think it was quite the same for me with my parent’s world. I learned much from their stories and the day to day conversations we had, plus I learned by doing research and reading in the library. That was a great pleasure for me to investigate Look, Life, and National Geographic magazines and to read stories in the local newspaper. Being informed was a natural part of growing up even in a household where academics were not particularly practiced although the idea of getting an education was stressed. My parents didn’t continue their learning with any degree of consistency. I think they both later regretted that.
The arts in particular were not well understood in my family. Popular forms of entertainment held sway and those were limited to certain TV fair that happened to be available through local programming. For myself, though, when interest was piqued in one area or another, I found a way to learn as much as I could. Those trips to the library created a learning habit that has served me well for many years. My introduction to computers and the internet was a great boon for learning rather than social media. It is still amazing to me that I can access far more information on my computer than I could possibly have found in the local library. Even the libraries of the universities I attended cannot compare to the wealth of information accessible through the internet. I am grateful, though, that I learned how to do research, how to create context for information, and how to synthesize information from a wide range of resources, which has enabled me to avoid the “google it” mentality of many young people.
Information accessibility has aided my growth as an artist also. I strongly believe in historical perspective, for the story of humanity is part of who we are. As an artist, I also think that dialog with the present is informed by understanding of and dialog with the past. Life is a continuum. As individuals we come into the life stream at certain points in time, and it is important to understand how there are parallels and overlaps in families, communities, and cultures. Art of the past can speak to us just as clearly as art of the present when we understand the language of the time. Plus, what has preceded has enabled us to be who and where we are. To ignore that is a great disadvantage and sometimes even dangerous and possibly a threat to our survival.
Posted on 8/1/2015 7:13:13 PM
By Donald Fox
Comment on this
This is the time of year when the heat seems unrelenting. Every day for the past week we’ve climbed into triple digits. It is not unusual for the southeast Texas coast to experience this. Like many events in nature, we could say this is part of a larger cycle. We know the obvious cyclical motions of nature and adapt ourselves to her rhythms. Day to night and day again. The days shorten as the nights lengthen, and the days lengthen as the nights shorten. We see the sun move across the sky each day. We watch the phases of the moon. Both sun and moon shift positions in the sky relative to north and south though less frequently than east to west. We experience the change in seasons and note that it is more dramatic in certain latitudes. We see the growth of plants. We experience the growth of ourselves and our children. We feel the rhythms of our heartbeats and our breaths. Everything appears to move in cycles and rhythms.
We create art according to certain rhythms and use rhythm as part of artistic expression. Music is a natural for rhythmical expression. We hear it in the songs of birds and the songs of whales. We write it into compositions. We play with rhythms and rhymes in poetry and literature. We note the music of language and celebrate that as part of our artistic statements. We create film by matching rhythmical cycles that make images move at twenty-four frames per second. We can animate still pictures to mimic the movement or life. We manipulate static rhythm or the suggestion of rhythm in painting and drawing. We accomplish this with intervals, variance in line thickness, light and dark, large and small, color contrast. All of these design elements can suggest rhythm, and much of it is derived from our experience with nature, our observations, our understanding of what we observe, plus the internal sense of pulse, breath, hunger, or digestion – all are parts of the rhythms that keep us alive.
Probably art has always been based on nature. It is only natural that we acclimate to the daily rhythms and draw inspiration from them. They keep us alive and may well influence us in ways we as yet are not consciously aware. Most of the things that we do are based in some way on rhythms, and we celebrate these over and over again.
