Attentive Equations

Sissy in Yellow by Robert Henri

“… for the great function of the image is to be a kind of detector of infinity… towards which our reason and our feelings go soaring, with joyful, thrilling haste.” (Andre Tarkofsky, Sculpting In Time, p.109)

Death makes one aware of beauty. Loss of a person in all their unique magnificence, shows one where beauty lies- deep in the heart and soul. We have such a longing for beauty which partially in itself is unattainable. Beauty and sorrow are intertwined. One says, “yes” to the beautiful, but knows that it is bound to time and it will not last. This unattainable longing for beauty, those images that speak personally to one’s heart, is at the center of our being. The soul yearns for beauty and imagination. It longs for that mirror that reflects its unique soul. “The need for beauty may be one of the soul’s most vital needs. Without beauty the soul would shrivel away.” (Cobb, Archetypal Imagination, p.62)

All true images are born from within, manifesting their form to one who is open to receiving it. It calls for a deep connection to one’s inner life as well as to the world. When what is within and without come together an image is born that acts as a guide both to the artist as well as the viewer. Rumi states, “Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.” Image gives a voice and form to one’s inner experience and becomes the “equivalent” to this experience.This equivalent speaks of how one sees the world and transforms it into a soul image. This personal self discovery carries within it an experience felt by “everyman”.

The photographer, Alfred Stieglitz, created a series of photographs of clouds titled, “The Equivalents”. This title speaks of image- the clouds, with their symbolic patterning across an abyss of sky, touch a deeper part of ourselves. The images need no explanation. They are transformative because Stieglitz presents us with not just the objective form of the cloud but how he felt about it. They bring to the foreground those things that are on the very edge of consciousness.

“Nature is not something that can be seen by the eye alone- it lies also within the soul, in pictures seen by the inner eye…”

Edvard Munch

When the image is whole it calls forth an assent from the artist as well as the viewer. This assent obliges the artist to “service” this image and bring it forth into the world to the best of his ability. Even if his ability to craft the image well is flawed the image if attended to will supply the means for its expression.  Robert Henri firmly believed that once the image presented itself, the inventiveness of the artist would find the means or the technique necessary for its expression. The artist is the one who discovers and crafts the image not only with inventiveness and skill but with love and devotion.

As an artist, one always tends to think in images. But it is important to step back and rethink what an image is.  Too many paintings are composed as conceptions based on a rational part of ourselves ( what one “ought” to paint) and are not true Images. Image is the soul of a piece deeply connected to the soul of the artist. It stands as a hallmark as well as a guide to the artist. The artist must have a deep connection to the world in order to craft images that speak on this level. In a letter to his brother, Keats wrote: “Call the world, if you please, ‘the vale of soulmaking.’ Then you will find out the use of the world.”In this very act of crafting the image, the artist partakes in his own crafting of soul through his deep feeling and participation in the world.

Noel Cobb states beautifully in his book on “The Archetypal Imagination”,

“We must remember that image is not just some object or other out there; it is not the same as a picture, not the same as an optical, visual thing…Nor is it an optical event, an afterimage, or even the same as memory. It is neither inside us, nor outside us, but somewhere in between. What I am reaching for is that sense of the image we can find among the ancient Greeks and again in the Florentine circles of the Renaissance- the image considered as the way in which the heart perceives. (p.30)

The perceptions of the heart create image. Being attuned to that delicate movement of the heart is the foundation of the artist’s journey. It becomes less about what one sees and more about how one sees. The material world, that inspires and which one renders with such devotion, becomes the isthmus that takes us to the world of images.  And the imagination is what gives one the wings to travel there. “Without this taking in of the world, there is no awakening in the heart, no poetry, no making, no craft or crafting. Events remain events, soulless occurrences; they do not become experiences. Pictures remain two-dimensional happenings of form and composition, unless through soul they become images.” (Ibid.p.30)

“Images are angels- or rather diamones”(Ibid.)  because they are living things, embodied and particular; They have a life of their own independent from oneself. Because of this independence, one cannot just call the image forth but must await for its appearance with attentiveness. And when it does appear, such as described by Lorca, one must wrestle with this being in crafting the poetic image. One must fully participate and allow oneself to be transformed by it. One must be ready to risk all. Rumi states, “there is born within… a spiritual Child having the breath of Christ which resuscitates the dead.” A resurrection within the heart of those that see and partake of the image is what the artist is called to facilitate. “When the heart is inspired a new life and new image is born.” (Ibid.p.29)

Childhood is the “intertwining of imagination and memory” where images form within us. They become an inherent part of our being yet, they remain inactive and hidden into adulthood. These images can be restored to our soul and relived through words or images that recall and resonate off of these early images formed in childhood reverie which lie deep in our memory. These early childhood memories are not specific- like the time one stayed with grandmother, a historical fact retold by one’s family- but entail more eternal images- like, “climbing a tree and swaying in its branches on a cool summer’s eve, feeling joined to wind and sky and expecting to soar to the heavens at any moment I choose”. It is an image like this that evokes the “permanent childhood” and leads one back to a renewed sense of being and possibility when one had a sense of wonder and amazement for all things. Where the re-created world of the imagination comes,  from a soul “bestowing a gift” upon the world.

“When we love all these beauties of the world now in the songs of the poets, we love them in a new found childhood, in a childhood reanimated with that childhood which is latent in each of us.” (Bachelard, The Poetics of Reverie, p.126)

This new found childhood speaks of the archetype of childhood itself, yearning to recall those things that call us back to those images that enriched our life and gave us happiness and hope and allowed us to love the world freely. Thus, the artist must locate the “new archetypally true image” to call one back to oneself and recover the “universes of childhood”.

“Without childhood, there is no real cosmicity. Without cosmic song, there is no poetry. The poet awakens within us the cosmicity of childhood.” (Ibid., p.126)

The artist must seek these archetypal images that resonate and therefore activate these latent childhood images. How we all yearn to be connected to the greater world and abandon our own isolation which removes one from mankind. The child lives his reveries in solitude and develops his images there, not in isolation, but in harmony and connectedness to greater forces in the world. It is here that the artist must begin- from a place of solitude, where simple images present themselves. Are not simple images the most effective- Monet’s, “Haystacks”; Henri’s portraits of children; Manet’s, “Dead Toreador”; Sorolla’s children on the beach?

“… childhood, in its archetypal quality is communicable. A soul is never deaf to a quality of childhood. However singular the feature being evoked, if it has the sign of childhood primitiveness, it awakens within us the archetype of childhood.” (Ibid., p.127)

To recreate something with the eyes of the child, from his perspective is to re-imagine it in a “new” way. The child re-imagines the object and re-presents it to the world as something magnificent to behold. The everyday object becomes fabulous, other-worldly; mysterious; mythic. Having a 3yr. old myself, I can easily identify this aspect of the creative imagination. My daughter has what she calls an “adventure stick” ( which is a hollow cardboard tube from some wrapping paper). This stick is at once a spy-scope, a walking stick, sword, animated friend and companion and parade baton. This ability to re-create, reform and make “new”, imbuing it with ‘fabulous’ qualities is the unique character of childhood. This quality allows her to enter a world where all is unified and where all is possible. As an adult she will yearn to return to these early images, where reverie was such a part of her experience of the world. Can the artist create images that unlock these sensations once again allowing the individual a moment of cosmicity?

Childhood is a time we all remember. It is a time of play, adventures in the backyard, dear friends and many moments of solitude and dreaming. One dreams about real things but one also was allowed to dream “big” imaginary dreams. And it is these imaginary dreams that have most affected us and have stayed with us. They gave us power, adventure, honor and solace. The world was grand and one had the power to change it at the moment he dreamed. These dreams gave one true moments of illumination- “moments of poetic existence”. When a child dreams he feels that there is no limit to his existence and in such a reverie he finds that he can fly.

“The child’s vision is grand and beautiful… In this happy solitude, the dreaming child experiences cosmic reverie- that reverie that unites us with the world.” (Bachelard, On Poetic Imagination and Reverie, p.96)

It is these first images that remain within the child not only in his youth but become central to his psyche as an adult. In this “cosmic reverie” of the child, ” imagination and memory” are intertwined. There is no separation in these moments of reverie between reality and the imagination. All is one and in this oneness the child becomes a “being for the world.”(Ibid,p.96)

The artist retains more clearly, in their character, this “cosmic reverie”, re-enacting in their work this unity of the imagination and reality. Through this creative activity, the artist solidifies his attachment to the world. And through this “bent” he has toward the world, the artist feels compelled to reveal what Bachelard called, “the glory of the living”- a central emotion felt by the child in his stance toward the world. All is incredibly beautiful and filled with immensity. This childhood experience is at the heart of all artistic activity.

When I am working with a model in the studio or am out in the landscape painting, I experience in that moment the sheer magnitude of existence. It appears undeniable- as if I have returned to a child at that moment. Bachelard states,

“… childhood remains a source of life deep within us, a life that stays in harmony with the possibilities of new beginnings. Everything that originates in us with the clarity of a new beginning is a mad surge of life.” (Ibid, p.97)

Every time I begin a new piece, it is a whole new experience- one I could not have anticipated fully. To begin again and again is an inherent part of the craft. Nothing is ever rote. Looking upon that huge white canvas- where all the possibilities are present, I return to that state of wonder that was such a part of my life as a child. The “newness” felt at that moment must be lived and retained throughout the painting process. This newness must carry the artist to a state where “cosmic reverie” can be embraced and lived. It is only in such a state that images can present themselves- images that touch a deep chord within the human heart. Only such an image can call the viewer back to himself- to take his own ‘voyage’ – to be renewed and to love the world once again. This allows the viewer to find in this experience the freedom of “flight”, that he might be re-invigorated and experience “the glory of the living” once again.

When one is not at one’s work, especially the artist or artisan, one is “out of joint” with himself and the world. When one is away from one’s work, one tends to agonize over the latent material waiting for expression as well as the solitude that is such a part of one’s life. The artist needs his work. There is a unity of experience when one’s work mirrors one’s inner life and the very process where this occurs is in the creative act. This unity produces an immediate joy within the artist. And he again feels his connection to greater forces in the world. Bachelard states, “the space in which the dreamer is immersed is a ‘plastic mediator’ between man and the universe”. (Gaston Bachelard, On Poetic Imagination, endnote p.80) This does not happen without the dream. The artist needs the oneiric dream to create the sacred space necessary for true creative work. “His experience ( in the act of creating) is an interweaving of dream and dexterity”. (Ibid. p.80)

Working with a material, such as paint, clay, wood or metal, in the very act of modeling it, one finds one’s imagination fixed with intensity. And in the process of working with one’s material, one is caught in a productive reverie where one’s inner life is given time to speak. This activated solitude with the material gives the soul space and creates a vertical axis for one’s thoughts. Verticality provokes and inspires a dynamic imagination. An imagination that “takes flight” allows the artist freedom from the horizontality of our everyday living. And in this flight or aerial view, the artist finds the image- the symbol that speaks and reveals its nature and ours. “Take away dreams and you stultify the worker. Leave out the oneiric forces of work and you diminish, you annihilate the artisan (artist)”. (Ibid. p.80)

One must protect the sacredness of one’s work- the time, space and material imagination. “Respect for deep psychological forces must lead us to keep the oneirism of work safe from any harm”. The energy produced by such creative work feeds the artist in such a way that he is able to simultaneously work and “rest”. It is rest in a sense, because one honors that part of our being that seeks expression. Rest and renewal of inner energies is paramount to one’s ability to create. The artist needs to exhaust themselves in the work itself only to find that one’s energy is simultaneously revived in the process. One’s ability to work this way gives a joy that is satisfying. Without this deep connection, the artist easily falls into depression- an expression of a disconnect between himself and the world. It produces a barrenness within the soul and one is left “wandering in the desert”. “The oneirism of work is the very condition of the worker’s mental integrity”. (Ibid. p.80)

Living this deep connection and unity provided by one’s work allows for a dynamic imagination to flower. One is no longer alone but deeply joined to elemental forces in the world as well as those around him and to humanity itself. “We can accomplish nothing good against our will, that is to say against our dreams.” (Ibid. p.80)

The longer I work on a piece the more difficult it is to know if it still contains the spirit, the zietgiest, the deep duende that is a necessary element of all quality work. Without it one has accomplished nothing. One has displayed only the facade of skill not a deep journey into the undersome romantic notion but everyone recognizes the duende when it appears. One is cut to the heart with emotion, with longing from which out of our being comes an ‘ah, yes’. We recognize duende as we would recognize our own reflection in a mirror.
I am not Spanish, where the source of duende resides. But even in my Irish roots I can recognize the same heightened emotion present in the Gallic sense of the Lament. It is recognizing that deep divide that resides in oneself where one longs for a real poetic escape from this world to a place of authentic emotion and deep meaning. Lorca states, “the arrival of duende presupposes a radical change to all the old kinds of form, brings totally fresh sensations, with the qualities of a newly created rose, miraculous, generating an almost religious enthusiasm.”
The artist should seek to get beyond artifice and get at the “marrow” of form, to leave one’s place of safety where one paints only those things one knows one can do well and get to the “new”, a completely authentic unfolding of the image. One needs to put oneself on a threshold of risk where the immediate engagement with the image unfolds in unknown and unexpected ways. It is difficult to put oneself on this level because there is a prevailing uneasiness, a feeling of inadequacy. One feels out of one’s element and all appears at risk, that this image will take more ability and inventiveness than one is capable of. Lorca states,”duende loves the edge, the wound, and draws close to places where forms fuse in a yearning beyond visible expression.” But only in this position can one truly wrestle with one’s own “daimon” and be open to a revelatory correspondence that is not premeditated and therefore reveals itself in the “living” moment. In such a state the duende appears and remains, declaring authenticity, a truth revealed.
Lorca states, “… the duende wounds, and in trying to heal that wound that never heals, lies the strangeness, the inventiveness of a man’s work.” Duende wounds again and again calling the artist back to his purpose- leaving a gulf within him that calls to be filled. This chasm felt within the artist is eased through the creative process which calls forth meaningful images that heal and connect him to the world.
If duende occurs in the process of creation than a residue of it ought to remain in the final piece. Does my piece have this underlying sense of engagement with meaning and has the actualization of the image occured in an authentic way? Hirsch states in his preface to The Demon and the Angel,

“the duende (or demon) and the angel are vital spirits of creative imagination. They are anomalous figures. They come only when something enormous is at risk, when the self is imperiled and pushes against its limits, when death is possible. They embody an irrational splendor… The demon and the angel are two external figures for a power that dwells deep within us. They are the imagination’s liberating agents, who unleash their primal force into works of art.”

Yesterday, I was finally able to return to a landscape painting begun about 4 weeks ago.The site of this painting was on an isthmus, running north to south, parallel to the shore line of the Delaware river near the town of Cochecten. The day after I had begun this painting, the river flooded and this isthmus was under water for about a week. All the river grasses, which were in the foreground of the painting were pulled down river to the south or were removed entirely. It took about two weeks for the water to recede enough that I could get back on this peninsula which temporarily had become an island. On my return to the site yesterday, I found the isthmus as I thought I might- Many grasses were washed away and the stones themselves were all pointing north, their faces buffeted by the strong currents. I was left with no option but to reconfigure this painting and re-approach it as a new experience.
It was a wintery cold day, overcast but not entirely. The clouds were shifting diagonally and allowed some of the early morning light to penetrate. There was no wind but the river was moving surprisingly fast. As I stood there, ice floes- semi-transparent, were floating past and as the day warmed I could hear the crunching of the ice hitting the near-by bridge. This was followed by a surprising loud ripping sound as large chunks of ice broke free from the shoreline. Erie and awesome sounding. A moment to reflect on nature’s independence and inherent force.
Lately, I have been reading about Monet’s series called the “Debacle” or ice floes. During the winter of 1879-1880, France experienced an extremely fridgid winter with the Sienne freezing throughout Paris as early as November. One could walk across the river everywhere. This was followed by a sudden thaw in December followed by a massive thaw on January 3rd,1880. ” The snow run-off and the cascading ice that accumulated as the Sienne’s thick layer of ice broke apart resulted in massive devastation. Monet, invigorated by this once-in-a-lifetime surge of ice floes, created a memorable sequence of paintings to capture the river in its frozen immobility as well as its surging floods and blocks of ice.” (Carole McNamara, Monet’s Vetheuil Paintings: Site, Subject,and Debacles, p.77)
I can only imagine the power of nature that Monet experienced, but even in my small way I felt the awesome beauty of the moment- alone and immersed in an elemental nature, free from any human presence. I felt transported, able to grasp in a new way this environment and hence my painting. Only in such solitary moments can one experience profoundly a new reality. Monet’s paintings reflect this separation from the world of human affairs and in this isolation one can sense only the presence of the artist- present with himself in this new experience of reality. Landscape paintings that reflect, not only the the natural elements that lie before one, but also mirror the artist’s interior world- reflecting the correspondence that lies between the artist and nature, are the most profound. The painting becomes a conduit or isthmus between the natural forces and the artist’s own interior experience of the moment. When a painting is re-formed it reflects this “new” self. Although, I lost the brooding sense I originally had in my painting, it has re-emerged with clouds parting and a clear path to an ever- flowing river- renewed hope for a new year.

This week in the Catskill Mountains, it has snowed everyday. Beautiful clean, white snow. What I love about the winter is this wonderful neutral that pervades the landscape. All those subtle tones of gray, blue- gray, violet and russet reds, appear so much more intriguing. Set against this neutral of white, those more subtle tones take on an added vibrancy. With the surrounding neutral, one can see the grays more clearly and instead of mixing a color that is completely neutralized, one can break down that neutral into several tones.

There are russet grasses along the fields and riverbanks near where I live. I love this subtle red because red in the landscape is very rare unless one is talking about a man made structure. Sometimes these grasses appear as a strong accent and at other times they vary from a strong red to a more subtle orange or an ocher color. I find that a combination of viridian  and orange gives this gold tone. And into this I can add a more distinctive red tone without it taking over because the viridian acts as a neutralizer to this red and thus creates a russet color to the grasses without it becoming too pronounced. I prefer working with these three colors rather than strictly a red/green complement. Adding this type of variety to the grasses allows one to place the grass in the composition through color temperature- warmer tones approaching the foreground and cooler tones as it recedes into the background.

The far hills, during this time of year, appear as subtle gray-blue tones to blue-violets tones. In the middle of winter when the skies are overcast, there is a close relationship in color temperature between the sky and far hills. The looming clouds hang over the hills reflecting their violet tones into the hills and the color from the hills themselves also being reflected back into the sky. This violet tone tends to pervade everything including the snow. So it is important to add any kind of variance to these violet tones that one can find. If it is all too neutral, it becomes uninteresting and there appears to be no light emanating from the canvas.

I divide the tones I see in an overcast winter landscape into blue; blue-violet; and violet- red. Accentuating the blues at first in the initial block-in and then later over-laying in the pervading violet to violet-gray. And I tend to off-set all this violet with a subtle introduction of orange or orange-yellow. Since the sun is low in the sky in the winter, this warm color can be seen in the lower sky and subsequently, reflected in some of the snow. This adds a more compelling element visually, the warms and cools playing off of each other.

One cannot describe all that goes into every landscape, but I have indicated some of the things I find so interesting about this time of year. The blanket of the neutral white ties all of these beautiful tones together gathering them in and showing them off in a unique way. It was always George Bellows favorite time of year. He even titled one of his winterscapes of skaters in Central Park as,”Love of Winter”. If one has the endurance, in many ways it is the best time to paint out-of-doors.

During my class, I often have my painting students experiment with what Robert Henri called chords. As I have mentioned in previous blog posts, a chord is a simple triad of colors on which to build a palette for a particular painting. What is unique about a chord is that the combination of colors used resonate off one another causing a feeling of intensity or vibration between the colors. They are not complimentary, so the intensity between the colors is captivating but lies somewhat hidden. Also, as one builds the palette up from the triad, all of the additional colors added to the palette are a combination of that triad. So there is a unity and inherent harmony within the palette prior to commencing with the application of paint. The key to making this type of palette work is to allow some portion of the triad to remain in a pure state without overworking in the mixing process. I am not stating that the color should be left in a strictly pure state exclusively- i.e. like Pointillism or some forms of impressionism, but there should be a feeling of the chord within the painting.

What attracts me to this form of painting is that there is an inherent harmony within the chord, comprising of both intense colors and more subdued tones. And it is these less intense colors that act as a foil for the more intense colors creating beautiful  complimentary tones through juxtaposition. These more subdued tones, that cover a larger portion of the canvas , create the fabric on which the intense tones can vibrate.

When I first came to Robert Henri’s color theory, it was through the writing of Valerie Ann Leeds and Michael Quick for an exhibition of Henri’s portraits at the Orlando Museum of Art in 1994. Michael Quick had investigated Henri’s archive at Yale University for his extensive work on George Bellows. Bellows, a student and dear friend of Henri’s had experimented extensively with all of Henri’s chord studies. But it is one thing to be an art historian and another thing to be at the practical end of painting. Over time there was much of Quick’s theories regarding Henri’s working technique that was flawed which I subsequently found through my own work in Henri’s archive. But I do not under estimate how influential his writing has been in regard to my own direction as an artist.

I brought this up because one of Quick’s theories had to do with the mixing of the Bi colors and the Hues. He believed that they were created by mixing the more intense colors of the chord with black. One can certainly lower the intensity of a color by mixing it with black, but this type of mixing kills the liveliness of the hue. What Henri strove for was a subdued color that still had vibrancy. And within that vibrancy, the hue inter-related to the other colors on the palette. It went beyond just lowering the value of a color. The Bi color or Hue is mixed by combining two or three colors on the palette. A  certain neutrality of the hue is achieved through this process of combining the tones but it still holds within it the basis of the palette. – that being it is built directly from the triad. (This is the basic rule for chords, but like anything there are some chords that vary slightly in this regard.)

The Practical:

Chord:          OY- G- P

YYG(bi), B(hue), O(hue)

YYG(bi)- is created by combining the OY to the G. It is a bi color because there is a slight neutrality because both O and B are present- the B being part of G.

B(hue)- The combination of G and P makes a beautiful low intensity blue while still appearing to have color. The value is higher than ultramarine and appears blue in its pure state without moving toward a gray or black.

O(hue)- The combination of OY and P makes a deep O. One has to be careful with the purple because if there is too much blue in it this color will tend toward the green instead of the orange.

As you realize, I have not indicated what brand name of colors one is to use. That becomes a matter of preference for each artist. Also, the more one experiments with this process, the more one can adapt it to one’s own style of painting, choosing colors that speak of one’s own images.

Above is an example of a mock composition using this chord.