Keeping At It.

This is the finished block for the primary (darker) color. I'm going to print a small edtion in one color only, then work on the second block for the other color. It's cooler in the studio today -- what a relief! Makes it so much easier and more pleasant to work.

Right now I'm cleaning up from lunch and checking mail, which is another way of saying that I'm procrastinating a little about getting out the messy oil-based printing inks. But I'm always anxious to see what the print will actually look like, so once the process gets going I always find myself very concentrated. It seems like it's this way in all the arts: starting is difficult but once you get going, it's rewarding and completely absorbing, and even with the inevitable difficulties, steady incremental work does add up eventually.

--

In Ottawa this week we saw a remarkable exhibition called "Van Gogh - De Pres," or "Van Gogh Up Close." There were about 40 paintings, many of which I'd never seen before, in a show organized by the Canadian National Gallery and at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Along with the paintings -- still lives, flower paintings, and landscapes which explored compositions that include a nearby focus -- there were photographs, drawings, and Japanese woodblock prints of the type that VanGogh would have seen and collected, and used for inspiration and study.

Like all of these blockbuster exhibitions, this one was crowded and admission was by timed tickets. I felt like one of many sardines, but we walked ahead and then went back as the first rooms cleared out, and were able to spend some time fairly close to the paintings we most wanted to see. I felt exhilarated, moved, and also troubled by the profits that are made from this extraordinary, ill, incredibly gifted man's work and difficult life.

The painting above was the one that probably spoke to me the most, and this image doesn't begin to show how beautiful it really is (you can click for a larger version, but even so...the color simply isn't accurate and the depth doesn't come across.) In person, you see that it is an exploration of the complementary colors blue and orange, built up of many layers of carefully applied paint so that it has an internal glow. I was absolutely stunned.

I've read Van Gogh's letters, and a number of books about him. To be in the presence of so many of his paintings was even more emotional than I had expected; they are so full of quiet joy as well as the agitation that's been so emphasized. It's also personal for me, because Van Gogh often grappled with the same subjects that interest and bedevil me -- how to represent nature in its complexity, how to find the strong forms and a shorthand way of showing what we see. Most of all, it was so apparent, looking at the dates of the works, so compressed, that here was a man who showed up and worked almost every single day of his short life; th work kept him going, but so did nature itself. I left feeling humbled, inspired, and grateful.

 

 

Comments

[NT]

That is an amazing painting.

I'm also eager to see your new print!

[Ivy]

Lovely work, Beth! And Van Gogh's work is just so incredibly thrilling and quietly powerful. I swear my brain hiccupped when I saw 'Fishing Boats on the Beach at Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, 1888' in person. Same goes for Vermeer's 'The Milk Maid'. Reproductions haven't a hope of getting anywhere near that same reaction. Just entrancing.

[Lilian Nattel]

Even the photo is gorgeous (and btw I love the block you're working with)--I know from experience who little the photo represents of an artist's work when you see it in person. I'm glad for you that you did.

[Rachel Barenblat]

I love both your work, here, and Van Gogh's.

[Marja-Leena]

I love the block as an image unto itself, Beth! Look forward to the print, multiple blocks are a challenge, good luck.

Van Gogh's painting is stunning. With your work next to it, I see a lot of similarity in the movements of the lines. I wish I could see that exhibition for I've never seen a large body of his work at once. Such an inspiration for you...

[Beth]

NT: yes, it really is amazing. It feels three inches deep as well!

Ivy, Lilian - yes, obviously you know what I mean about reproductions vs the real thing!

Thank you so much, NT, Ivy, Lilian, Rachel, and Marja-Leena for the encouragement on my print.

Marja-Leena, I wish you could see the exhibition too. I had never seen more than a few of his paintings together, at the Met and London and D.C., and it was a different and much more emotional experience, though single paintings have moved me too. This way I just got a much stronger sense of the person himself, and could feel his final breakdown coming just as he was doing his strongest, most heartbreakingly beautiful work. All of it is compressed into just a few years, really -- his life felt way, way too short, but extremely intense.

[Natalie]

Yes, that painting in particular is one of Vincent's many masterpieces. I think he was uniquely attuned to the extraordinary in the ordinary and to the movement hidden in still life - those sunflowers are whirling with cosmic energy! The way he really *sees* his subject is like those unique moments of awareness or satori which happen once in a great while - for him, it's nearly every time.

Your block is looking terrific.

[Clive Hicks-Jenkins]

The block is already a dynamic work of art in its own right. Handsome!

[Beth]

Natalie, I think you've put your finger on what must have been happening, almost constantly, to this extraordinarily sensitive individual. Yet he always says that nature calms him, so his hyper-awareness must not have created the stress we might think - the world of people, and his own illness, did that.

Thank you, Clive! I'll post the print later today, and am working on the two-color version -- very tricky, it turns out, as I'm sure you know so well!