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gallery of modern art

Optimism

February 23, 2009 · 9 comments

Wandering around in a sea of fluffy white I felt like Alice in Wonderland waiting for the Madhatter’s Tea Party to begin.  We sat for a while in the White Forest and waited… but the Mad Hatter didn’t show up!

 

No…not me!  Cover of the Gallery Members Exhibition Guide featuring the White Forest

 
But Kathy Temin’s installation My Monument: White forest 2008 (as part of the Contemporary Australia: Optimism exhibition at the Gallery of Modern Art in Brisbane) was simply spectacular nonetheless.  And fitted the theme of “Optimism” perfectly.

In fact… I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I wandered about in the maze of soft stitched topiary trees of snowy white.  All at once I was a little girl again.  It was (for me) an affectionate warm hug direct from the artist herself.  And everyone who went in there felt it.  It was fun to watch people emerge just as I had done… smiling from ear. The White Forest was a place “kind of like that!”  

Earlier in the day we had parked in the city and trudged three blocks in the heat to Eckersleys Art Store to buy my art supplies.  Once there the aroma of “art shop” did not disappoint.  I headed straight for the Arches stand to find my paper.  

Like a lot of watercolour painters I’m pretty fussy about my paper. If I am buying one sheet (only) it must come from the bottom of the stack and preferrably straight out of the plastic sleeve.  No nasty surprises then… when the painting is “all said and done” and random fingerprints begin to appear in the paint… right in the middle of where you didn’t want them to be!  

Alternatively… if the price is right… I might buy the whole bag.  Five sheets in all.  Perfectly sealed. Untouched by human hands!  A little hedonistic I know… but hey… you learn from experience that there is no room for other people’s fingerprints in your finished painting (grin)  I settled for the bag.  No discount anymore though for buying in bulk…. due in part I was told to the economic downturn.  Now that’s a first! (grin) I scratched my head and wondered to myself how they could justify that… before realising that they don’t have to!

After browsing the shelves and the possibilities that lay absolutely everywhere there… we stepped out onto the street… Em with five small 6 x 6 canvases… and me with my bag of watercolour paper under my arm. The damned thing acted like a sail picking up the wind as we weaved our way back through the city streets in the lunchtime chaos.  

As we waited at the first set of pedestrian lights, a friendly young man… very well dressed… and with very nice manners stepped up beside me and asked what I had there.  

“Is that a painting?”  

“No” I replied smiling… “but it will be!  Five paintings in fact… if I can muster the strength! Do you paint?”  

“No… I’ve never tried… but I’d like to”… came his enthusiastic reply.

With that… the conversation turned (oddly) to the joys and challenges of painting watercolour as we three strangers marched lockstep along the crowded street… all going the same way but each toward our own destination. At first I was answering his ongoing questions with cautious one liners… but after figuring it was all pretty harmless… let rip with the virtues of why everyone should learn to paint.  

“How amazing that you can paint… it must be fantastic to be able to do that!”  he went on encouragingly.

I shot Em a quizzical look.  

There was a moment there where I wondered why this good looking young man was talking to me when my good looking young daughter was right there too… but well… dismissed the thought after deciding this guy must really be serious about wanting to paint!  (alright…just allow me this one okay?) (((grin)))

The discussion came to an end at the intersection of Elizabeth and Albert with a smile and a friendly wave. Just like that… our paths went different ways.  As we surged with the crowd across the intersection Em turned to me and exclaimed… laughing

“What was that all about?”

“I haven’t got a clue”  I replied.  ”But wasn’t it great?”

Funny how the universe delivers.  And in the strangest possible ways.  How a random stranger might turn up out of the blue… to offer inadvertent endorsement when we need it most and spur us on in our creative endeavours… is too weird and too surreal for it not to be so.  We agreed that it was definitely kind of weird… but in a totally good sort of way! 

We wound up the afternoon at the Gallery of Modern Art…. in the White Forest no less… after a calorie laden but thoroughly delicious afternoon tea in the downstairs River Cafe.  

Yes yes… I did colour the picture! (grin)

Then exactly as it had happened on our last visit to GoMA… lightning struck… thunder crashed and the heavens opened requiring us to linger on at the nearby State Library bookshop (a favourite for Em and me) where we sheltered for over an hour huddled up with a good coffee and a great selection of books.  

So what is it then about our visiting GoMA that almost invariably invokes the forces of nature?  I dunno.  It’s a mystery.  In fact… it was a bit of a downright freaky day all round.  Freaky but good.  But in a freaky good sort of way… if you know what I mean?  (((chuckles)))

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A visit with Picasso (& Modigliani)

August 4, 2008 · 25 comments

On Friday we drove up to Brisbane to visit Picasso & His Collection at the Gallery of Modern Art. As it turned out Picasso himself wasn’t able to attend due to his being largely indisposed (chuckles)… but nonetheless we enjoyed High Tea without him in the Gallery Cafe before viewing the show.

High Tea!

This was an exhibition of Picasso’s personal collection “on tour” from the Musee National Picasso in Paris. It included not only Picasso’s own works but many important pieces acquired throughout his life from artist friends and colleagues… and included paintings, drawings and prints by artists such as Chardin, Matisse, Renoir, Cézanne, Rousseau, Miró, Modigliani (just one) and Braque as well as a selection of Oceanic and African works.

Gallery Cafe @ GOMA Brisbane

Although exceptionally well put together I initially found it difficult to get excited about much of the art. However… as this was Picasso’s personal collection I tried my best to understand what might have compelled this man to collect these particular works.

The conclusion I came to was that the collection comprised works that had “meaning” for him… works by friends and colleagues who had shared the same time and place in history… and a common experience of life in early 20th century Paris. Once I reconciled this… I found a new appreciation.

I admire Picasso’s work but none of it has ever really moved me. Perhaps this could be perceived as some grave failure on my part… but I do know what I like! So for me… only one painting in the whole collection truly resonated. Interestingly… it was the only Modigliani in the collection.

Poorly reproduced here – this image bears little resemblance to the original

Modigliani’s “Seated Dark Haired Girl” (painted in 1918 two years before his untimely death and acquired by Picasso two years after it) literally sucked me in from across the room and held me spellbound.

So simply executed… so profoundly beautiful… so “achingly” human.

I have long admired Modigliani’s work… the big shapes… the deceptively simple execution… but never before had I so completely “got it”. The emotional content was palpable. Tears welled in my eyes. Odd that they did… for Modigliani wasn’t given to painting eyes! But in this painting there was something about them…

The story goes that when Jeanne Hebuterne (Modigliani’s beautiful companion and muse) asked him why he never painted her eyes… Modigliani enigmatically replied

“I will paint your eyes when I know your soul”

I wonder though if this really explains it. Why would a painter choose not to paint his sitter’s eyes? (especially when his earlier work proved him more than capable of doing so.

To me… there seems to have been a creeping cynicism in the artwork from around this time. And this exhibition showed it was not isolated to Modigliani’s work either.

For Modigliani… a potent combination of illness poverty and substance abuse had created a pervasive atmosphere of despair and competitive rivalry with his peers (in particular Picasso). He was reportedly burned out by this time in his career… and through the haze of substance abuse (perhaps) he grew tired and cynical… too tired to look his subjects in the eye… let alone look deeply into their souls!

I believe this is what makes this particular painting all the more extraordinary. It’s as though the artist dug “especially deep” to produce it. How amazing that a stranger might stand before it all these years later and feel the impact of that struggle!

I cast my eyes around the room searching the walls of perfectly rendered images that said… virtually nothing to me… and never before had I been so acutely aware that it matters not what subject the painter paints… nor how technically correct the rendering might be… nor how zealously or slavishly he or she pursues literal perfection, detail or correctness.

What matters most of all is that the work captures the soul of the subject and the spirit of the artist [within it]. When those two forces meet the earth moves and the heavens open up!

To me… that is what is essential. And in the end it’s the only thing that matters… and the only thing worth striving for.

Only rose petals left… (grin)

I should have liked it if Picasso and Modigliani could have joined us for tea (or perhaps in their case something just a tad stronger)… but nonetheless we ate all the sandwiches and cakes… drank copious quantities of coffee and tea and toasted those raucous heady days in the cafes of Montparnasse and the times that defined them all!

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