photo credit: Bataclan - Paris 11ème 50 Bd Voltaire 75011

I knew I'd found a good thing when I heard the Puppini Sisters' version of Gloria Gaynor's 'I Will Survive'...and then followed the YouTube sidebar suggestions to more of this British Girl Group's nouveau retro-jazz swing numbers...So when Louise mentioned that they were coming to Marseille, I lept at the opportunity to see them live.  

And am I glad that it was a stand-up concert--Who could possibly SIT to this delightful music?  (Case in point, good luck in finding an audience member video clip that isn't bouncing to the beat!)

Their selections are fun, fast, furious and fantastically meticulous with artistic skill and technique, yet balanced with a few well-placed heartbreakingly romantic charmers.  Have a listen, and support the arts!

I was right!  Robert Henri’s The Art Spirit really does apply to all creative endeavor—whether painting, sculpting, motorcycle repair, open-heart surgery-- wherever you concentrate your skills and priorities. 

Work with great speed.  Have your energies alert, up and active.  Finish as quickly as you can.  There is no virtue in delaying.  Get the greatest possibility of expression in the larger masses first.  Then the features in their greatest simplicity in concordance with and dependent on the mass.  Do it all in one sitting if you can.  In one minute if you can.  There is no virtue in delaying.  But do not pass from the work on mass to features until all that can be said with the larger forms has been said—no matter how long it may take, no matter if accomplishment of the picture may be delayed from one to many days.  Hold to this principle that the greatest drawing, the greatest expression, the greatest completion, the sense of all contained, lies in what can be done through the larger masses and the larger gestures.

Wake up!  Learn to respect your observations.  Practice taking notes of whatever strikes your senses.  Capture a thought or image immediately, before it’s gone, or altered by your logic.  These are seeds for thought, and you are responsible for their care when the world around you threatens their growth.

It’s been a nice break from the computer to enjoy a mid-term break with family and friends.  A change in perspective is always good, given the choice.  How do I know my true goals if I don’t view them from another angle from time to time?  That’s why Robert Henri’s The Art Spirit is such an insightful guide for so many of us.  Even though he writes to painters, his understanding of the eternal spirit of life applies to anyone seeking his utmost potential.

Realize that your sitter has a state of being, that this state of being manifests itself to you through form, color and gesture, that your appreciation of him has depended on your perception of these things in their significance, that they are there of your selection (others will see differently), that your work will be the statement of what have been your emotions, and you will use these specialized forms, colors and gestures to make your statement.  Plainly you are to develop as a seer, as an appreciator as well as a craftsman.  You are to give the craftsman in you a motive, else he cannot develop.

I was absolutely shocked to watch this series of videos from Sotheby's--lovely paintings going under a very large hammer, figuratively speaking:  

It's playtime!

Robert Henri continues: Do not tell me that you as students will first learn how to draw and then afterwards attend to all this.

This sounds a lot like Jesus’ admonition to the man who wanted to follow Him, but only after he buried his father.  Luke 9:57-62, Jesus seems rather snippy in His responses, until you consider all the hot air blowing around.  If Dad was between death and entombment, this fellow wouldn’t be out attending lectures.  He would’ve been mourning with friends and family.  We don’t know if the patriarch even had one foot in the grave yet!

Although I’ve never heard that excuse before, I could write a long list of why people don’t learn to draw or keep a journal.  You’ve seen my justification for giving up on the portrait painting.  I need a teacher, and it’s not my priority to find one.  Not that I’ve got any funerals to attend, thankfully, it’s just not where I choose to spend my time right now.

Mastering the Masses

I have to admit that I really struggled with this Robert Henri The Spirit of Art lesson since Friday.  Well, you can see by the previous portraits that I struggled before Friday, too, but I had to come to the realization that my training isn’t sufficient to progress without an experienced guide.  As with any practice in mastery, there’s only so far you can go leaning on your own understanding.  Drawing teaches us how to translate what we see in order to share our vision, practice improves the communication, experience refines it, and at some point, we’re ready to go further than what our world can provide.  This is true for painting, photography, and every single personal skill you might attempt.  We’re not meant to go it alone!

Something else I discovered, through transposing years of accumulated journals (I fill them in about 6 weeks), is that I put a lot more practice into writing than drawing.  I need to pay attention to that.  And when people comment on what they see when they peek over my shoulder, I get a lot more compliments about my writing than my drawing.  Maybe I should be paying attention to that, too.  And referring back to Henri’s previous paragraph, if writing is my painting, then I can easily discern ‘four or five masses’ within those pages.

I like how my study of Robert Henri’s The Art Spirit parallels so much of the rest of my life right now.  I wouldn’t have thought that enormous piles of dirt would relate to portrait painting, yet they do!  So does piecing together significant discoveries from my old journals, and the wonders of fresh recipes from an old Provençal cookbook.  Once you learn how to see it, all the parts come together as a whole. If only my portrait painting would come together so easily!  I’ve got a long way to go…

Insist then, on the beauty of form and color to be obtained from the composition of the largest masses, the four or five large masses which over your canvas.  Let these above all things have fine shapes, have fine colors.  Let them be as meaningful of your subject as they possibly can be.  It is wonderful how much real finish can be obtained through them, how much of gesture and modeling can be obtained through their contours, what satisfactions can be obtained from their fine measures in area, color and value.  Most students and most painters in fact rush over this; they are in a hurry to get on to other matters, minor matters.

It’s funny—ironic—how a young child’s drawings consist of large masses of form & color, yet an adult (even from age 14 or so), include a misshapen mass containing seemingly unrelated, complicated forms.  How does that happen, that we get all wrapped up in the details and overlook the bigger picture?  More importantly, how do we get back to what we know is important, and leave the minor matters to settle themselves?  Hang on, am I speaking of pictures or life itself?

I guess I’d best get started then.  I don’t want to, because I know how imperfect it’s going to be.  Robert Henri’s right though; if I don’t begin, I won’t finish.  More than that, if I can’t begin, then I haven’t faced the fear that I won’t do it perfectly, met the challenge, and come out victorious (although battered and bruised).  Therefore, portrait painting day #2 with “Letter to the Art Students League 1915”…

As different as ideas and emotions are, there can be no set rule laid down for the making of pictures, but for students found working in a certain line suggestions may be made.  There is a certain common sense in procedure, which may be basic for all, and there are processes safe to suggest, if only to be used as points of departure, to those who have not already developed a satisfying use of their materials.