Black Across Red, egg tempera on calfskin parchment, 6 1/2 x 8 in.
Like the painting I completed just before this one, Facing Green, Black Across Red is mainly flat colored planes facing us, in light and in shadow. There is an addition of a black tubular shape crossing the surface, which lessens the ambiguity of scale that is part of the previous work. The solid geometry of both is similar, though, as is their mood. I began to ponder this question of feeling the past couple of days, as I've been working on my next painting, one of my folded cloth still lives, which seems to me to have a different quality from this. All my paintings are moving closer to abstraction, moving farther from a "real" source, identifiable as objects out in the world.
So, where are the differences? is mood/feeling the same as meaning? When I look at my most recent paintings, I see a forcefulness, a weighty seriousness, an almost somber quality, even with the sunlight. I have done paintings that exhibit some humor––and that little blue square in Facing Green has a little smile to it––but basically I think there is a calm toughness. Some of this, of course, comes from my precision, which pins everything down in place, and also from the severe frontality.
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Untitled (Orange, Pink), egg tempera on calfskin parchment, 7 1/2 x 6 in.
But I am using the same technique, or style, in my other still life paintings, and to me they have a different mood, one approaching poignancy. While the machine images seem solidly present and invulnerable, a work like this seems tender and provisional. There is something about a folded surface that seems to evoke this feeling for me. As to how much the feeling inherent in a work determines its meaning, I think it is only a part adding to a whole; formal qualities can also shift meaning: matters of color, shape, space, composition, all play a part. And of course, each of us senses mood differently; you may completely disagree with my reading of my own work, which is fine and also interesting to me. After all, once a work goes out into the world, it is on its own, and open to interpretation.
Great questions, Altoon.
ReplyDeleteFor what it is worth...
It seems to me that formal qualities DO shift meaning precisely BY shifting the feeling/mood. Actually, the words "feeling" and "mood" fall a bit short, I think. For me, what we are talking about here is the energetic quality of a work.. its "spirit," so to speak.
The more read-ably nonobjective these pieces become, the more these inherent energies take center stage. Visual elements become living things with character, personality, and spirit. They enter into relationships that elicit visceral responses in the viewer. The arrangements breathe, have rhythm, convey a sense of equilibrium, and so on.
The subtle but remarkable differences that you note in your most recent works seem to me to arise from the proportional relationships between geometric and organic qualities. The machine part paintings, while quite powerful and often haunting, are virtually all geometric-- the players (shapes/forms) are perfect, idealized, knowable. The ribbon/folded cloth paintings, on the other hand, include an element or passage that hint at the opposite polarity. The ribbons offer a sense of the organism, an energy that is imperfect, a bit eccentric, just a bit more difficult to understand and explain. They are one of a kind. Each bends, folds, and wavers in its own distinct way. They offer a sense of individuality; perhaps even of vulnerability, fragility...
thanks so much, steven, for your lengthy and insightful comment. I think I'm using the word feeling as you might spirit. I like that you mention a visceral response from the viewer; I agree that this comes into it a great deal, even for me with my own work.
DeleteI greatly appreciate your take on the geometric/organic differences. Believe it or not, it's not actually something I thought about, but you are right. Your mention of vulnerability is what I meant by the poignant and the provisional, that sense of possible loss.
And thanks again for creating and publishing this blog. Most appreciated.
ReplyDeleteGetting responses from my friends, like the one you just posted steven, makes my work on this blog very worthwhile.
DeleteHi Altoon,
ReplyDeleteI've been a fan of your work for many years. I'm interested that you are working in egg tempera now. I notice that you are working on calfskin parchment. Do you then put a gesso ground (rabbit skin glue gesso) on that? Do you mount it on something to keep it stabile? I am currently working in egg tempera as well, after studying with Fred Wessel last year. Thanks for any info you feel like sharing.
thank, miz for your support. I've been working in egg tempera for almost 20 years, even wrote a book on it, The Luminous Brush, for which there's a link at the right hand side of the blog page. I work directly on the parchment, using glair as a medium, which is beaten egg white. On the right hand side of the blog page you can also find links to posts on "Making a Vellum/Parchment Panel" and on "Preparing Glair".
DeleteGreat! Thanks!
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