Friday, February 20, 2009

Memories of Venice Original Art

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

One of the things I came to Italy to improve is my ability to add an environment to a figure in art. When I began drawing this lovely standing pose with my friend and model Valentina, I had no idea of where I was going. I mean, as far as what other shapes would surround her.

I know that people often call the style of art that I create “photo realism” but that is not the mentality I have when I approach my work. And thus, while I was designing the shape of the shadow the model cast on the floor, I created a wave.

This water theme stuck with me throughout the 5-week pose and what was in reality a slanted easel supporting the model’s hand became a famous and distinctive Venetian canal pole. And because one element does not a story make, I began to try other symbols of Venice to create a pleasing composition that did not take away from the figure.


Determining the composition has been a slow process for me. I drew the model in the late spring of 2008. I am not a faster producer, but also I tried many things that just did not work for me. Everything I arranged seemed like “too much information.” I played around with various shapes and sizes, until things felt comfortably pleasing to my eye.

There is an obvious diagonal going across the image plane, but I wanted something more to slow down the gaze. I wanted to move the viewer’s eye from the gondolas up through the cathedral to the model’s right hand and then face before traveling back down the left arm and then to the hand. For me, this was another nautilus shell composition. Apparently, I feel pretty at peace with shapes from the sea.

“Memories of Venice” will be part of my 3-week solo exhibit here in Florence, Italy, starting on 16 April. However, I have no problems exhibiting a sold piece, so if you know someone who would love to own this original drawing, please give him or her my contact information!

“Memories of Venice” is an original drawing in various materials (mostly charcoal) on Umbria brand paper. She measures 69 x 49 cm (27" x 19.5").




Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Inside Brunelleschi’s Dome Florence Italy


Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

It is true that we, as a public, no longer know how to read paintings. As a general rule, our society is no longer familiar with the symbols from cultures centuries old. Without recognizing these symbols (often mythological or religious), we miss much of the meanings in the paintings of our past. These were the days when visual art and literature were much more closely related.

However, some artworks still retain the general idea for even the least learned of us. I am thinking now, for example, of the artwork frescoed onto the upper inside of the famous Duomo in Florence, Italy. In my last blog entry, I spoke about Italian architect Filippo Brunelleschi’s brilliantly designed duomo (cathedral), topped with Florence’s landmark red cupola.

I actually went inside the Chiesa di Santa Maria del Fiore (The Church of Saint Mary of the Flowers) on Christmas Eve just before midnight. The music was entrancing. I took these photos before a security guard asked me to stop. Sometimes it is better to ask forgiveness than permission, maybe even especially inside of a church. I made these images a little bit larger than normal because there is so much going on in each one. I understand that my blog site reduces the images, but if you click on them, you will view the original version.

I love this first image. From a distance, my composition of lights against the darks reminds me of a nautilus shell. And I adore the guys hanging out of the architecture near the top of the dome. Honestly, I do not know many of the stories told here myself. For instance, there are two groups of three people interacting with one another in the lower level of the figures in light. I do not doubt for a second, though, that they have very specific identities and lofty purposes.

It does not require an art history major to see that the figures near the bottom are surrounded by darkness and suffering in one way or another. The bodies twist and fall in a rhythm of pain and are tortured by gruesome creatures. This is Hell.

For my taste, I enjoy certain individual parts of the fresco. But overall, the composition is too symmetrical for my eye. The bottom and the very top tiers look much more interesting to me than the cubby-holed, orderly middle. I guess this artwork is a lot like society, huh? Nothing ever changes!

In this last image, you can see the railings clearly. I believe that tourists are permitted up there (and higher) as part of the dome tour. Although the overall colors in this image are more red, I believe the lower contrast is closer to what the real artwork looks like. Enjoy.

If you would like to learn more about Florence’s Duomo, click here
Find out how many artists (and who were they?) who created the dome fresco (true or secco?) check out
wikipedia here

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Brunelleschi’s Dome Florence Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

Buona Festa di San Valentino! Instead of talking about something depressing, I thought I would share with you something impressive. The Chiesa di Santa Maria del Fiore (The Church of Saint Mary of the Flowers) is better known as Florence’s Duomo. In the Italian language, “duomo” does not mean ‘dome.’ It means ‘cathedral.’ Il Duomo is often the focal point of every Italian city. In this case, Florence’s Duomo is capped with a dome, probably the most famous one in Italy if not the world.

Near the Duomo is one of my favorite sculptures in Florence. He is a marble carving dated around 1830 by Luigi Pampaloni of the famous architect Filippo Brunelleschi. Normally, I am not drawn to statues. That must sound strange coming from a sculptor whose work is more realistic than not. But I think of statues as being different from sculpture somehow. Boh! Perhaps the interactive or site-specific pose of the seated architect looking up at his magnificent cupola makes me want to look as well.

But mainly, there is elegance in the simplicity of the forms. I like the man’s tights smoothing over the details in the well-defined legs and feet. I like the gentle sweeping folds of fabric and paper in contrast with angular fingers. I love the light-colored stone figure against a soft grey arch designed by Gaetano Baccani. Next to this, there is a second sculpture by the same artist of another famous architect Arnolfo di Cambio, but I am afraid that it is Brunelleschi’s marble that I admire so much.


Brunelleschi’s cupola is veramente magnifica. It is truly a landmark and can be discerned from almost anywhere in the valley of Florence and surrounding mountains. Believe it or not, I have yet to walk to the top. That probably falls under the “I live here. I can do it anytime and therefore, I have never done it.” I often postpone for perfect weather, but am too busy when that arrives. However, I rarely cease to admire this beautiful and striking architecture.




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Saturday, February 14, 2009

Portrait Painting of John Henderson



Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

I signed my portrait of John Henderson today. I wrote about starting this portrait earlier on this blog and wanted to share with you something of my subject.

Via Don Elliott at the Franklin Barry Gallery, art collectors John and Sara Campbell sent me two small photos they took of their friend “Big John” Henderson during events at the Highland Golf and Country Club in Indianapolis. John C. wrote me this in early February:

“John Henderson (or "Big John") as everyone calls him, has worked 13 years as the dining room manager at the club. He is one of our most beloved employees. He is from St. Louis and has one sister, Darlene. He has gone back to St. Louis and his sister is caring for him. He probably has only a few days left. The cancer hit him very quickly. He worked right up until before Christmas. He is about 6'4, maybe 220-30lbs. A very big, strong man. Big hands, yet long fingers with a sort of delicacy; long, muscular arms.

He worked out a lot, kept a Bible in his podium and regularly attended Church. While he was wild one in his youth, he settled down, found Jesus and was very happy with that. He never had a cross word about anyone and always looked for the best in people. He worked constantly. Had two other jobs a few years back, but cut back to just the club and one other later. Children loved him. He was always taking care of them, getting them ice cream and sodas. He loved being around them, probably because he didn't have any.

There was always a big closed mouth smile on his face. His voice was deep and so was his love of people. WE were his family. We went to see him last Monday in St. Louis. He'd lost about 30 lbs was curled up in bed and only came around slightly for a few minutes. It was a very hard visit for us.

Just to give you an idea how much he was thought of: even though he has insurance, several of the members got together and in a week and a half, raised over $60,000 to make sure he had the best of care. He always wore a black vest, black bow tie and short sleeve white shirt (even in winter). We are renaming the dining room in his honor and they wanted a portrait of him to hang in there so he'd always be with us.”

“Big John” Henderson died on Tuesday morning, February 10, 2009. He was 52 years old.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Santa Croce Florence Italy


Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

There are becoming too many moments now in which I desperately wished to have a good camera with me. Tonight was splendid and I lost a magnificent opportunity to create better images. The moon was full over Basilica di Santa Croce here in Florence, Italy.

Even though I had a bike basket full of groceries for the next week, I think I spent twenty minutes either just standing alone in the piazza looking up or taking shots such as this one. I was surprised that at 9 p.m. Piazza Santa Croce was empty, save for a few American tourists and the waiting taxi drivers nearby. But then, it was dinner hour(s) in Italia.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Italian Politics Florence

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

Saturday night I went to two art exhibits and then a couple of my friends and I met up with others in Piazza della Repubblica here in Florence, Italy. We were on our way to a concert featuring Il Genio (“The Genius”) at the Flog Auditorium.

However, we discovered another of Florence’s manifestazione under way. This one had fire and smoke and police in a line of defense. Naturally, I ran towards the action, even though I truly hate my now very unreliable (increasingly failing focus and light metering) digital camera, but it was all I had.

My Italian friends were vague about the reasons for this public demonstration. One shrugged this off as just another Communist demonstration, while another said that the Fascist party was protesting a new Muslim church appearing in Florence.

The van you see here had a loud speaker on it and a man with a megaphone was airing the protest. I was too caught up in the visuals to hear the speech. After he was done, the excitement dropped dramatically as the van drove off and the entire parade just dissolved. The row of polizia was totally unnecessary. But who knows if their presence actually prevented anything. Most people just want the opportunity to be heard.

Afterwards, my friends and I took two cars up to the Flog. Il Genio was fun, however, their engineer should have done a better job. The lead singer’s voice is so soft that it is easily lost in a live setting. I wanted to see this band after hearing some of their CD. The music reminded me of 1960s Paris and also the movie “Funny Face” in which Audrey Hepburn does a funky dance in a Parisian bar while wearing form-fitting black and white. Classically cool.

My friends and I agreed that the lead singer has a beautiful mixture of sensuality and innocence and a face that joins Italy and Japan. She is lovely to watch. The other singer has a very sexy deep voice and he compliments her well.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Questura Italian Immigration Police

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

I wonder if art imitates life, or influences it. And this time by “art”, I mean science fiction writing. During my return trip to the Questura, Italian Immigration Police, I was fingerprinted (each digit on both hands) and they took one of my passport photos. I wondered about this omission of the photo earlier, but in the States, they sometimes reuse the foto in their digital files when one renews a Driver’s License.

While each dito was being scanned, I was thinking of “The Prisoner” TV show (“I am NOT a number.”) and about sci-fi programs in which eyes scanners are used for entry into a secured building or ID-chips were implanted into a person’s neck, just under the skin.

When I was a child, I was frightened by an episode of “Night Gallery.” The story was about an extremely prolific painter who was also business savvy. He kept a huge inventory of paintings in his basement, releasing them periodically on a well-planned schedule. They were not TRULY his, however, until he signed them with his thumbprint.

Unfortunately for him, his wife adhered to the principle of “Everybody’s favorite artist is a dead artist.” and she offed him so that the prices for his art would skyrocket. She was no idiot killer, though. She cut off his thumb and kept it in a jar of formaldehyde for adding those authenticating signatures.

I remember thinking that I would never put my body parts into my artworks because I did not relish the idea of someone thinking that my body was more important to him than it is to me.

Allora, I left the Questura today with a letter stating that my next appointment to receive my Permesso di Soggiorno that expired last September 2008 is in May 2009. Only after this date will I be able to apply for the 2009 renewal. è strano!

The rest of my day went better because I was drawing. My friend Luigo is a co-owner of the High Bar in Florence, Italy. He asked me to come draw portraits tonight at the bar. One of the artworks I created was this short sketched portrait of a new friend Catia. She was a good model despite the raging dance music that made us both not want to sit still. And we only worked for maybe 10 or 15 minutes.

This was fun for me because Catia said that although she works at the famous Uffizi Gallery, she has never had a portrait drawn of her. Despite the short time and the dark lighting, I was pleased with this effort. Pictured here is Catia, with her portrait, me, and Luigo at the High Bar. After the photos, I fixed the inside corner of the eye on the left – lowering it. I wish that I had darkened the neck properly – it does not look as though it tucks into the turtleneck she has on. And changed the angle.