Cari Amici (Dear Friends),
Northeast of Belgrade about 50 kilometers is the city of Kovačica, Serbia. It is home to the Galerija naivne umetnosti or the Gallery of Naïve Art, a place visited by many famous people, including apparently, The Rolling Stones. Dragana’s parents, Srecko and Smiglia, treated us both to this experience one afternoon. Here is a photo of me with them inside the gallery.
There are currently over 20 member artists of the gallery, working with lots of color and depicting the daily life in Serbia in a manner that is full of heart, sentiment, and a sometimes not-so-simple charm. Their work is a joyous celebration of their lives, childlike in its enthusiasm. These artists are said to have had no formal art education and yet one can see that their art is born of observation and passion.
One thing I found surprisingly consistent is that their compositions had a peaceful kind of balance, often using symmetry and repetition. In some ways, their art seemed to be the kind an engineer’s brain might make. But then, I was married to a mechanical engineer who could see all the lack of straight lines and symmetry in my own work or something that just did not feel right to him for some reason (and he was therefore one of my favorite critics while I had works-in-progress). I did not always agree with his opinion, but I was grateful to have the balance of it.
The Gallery of Naïve Art opened in its original location on May 15, 1955. It moved to this pretty blue building in September 1989. I thought the lighting was pretty cool and smiled to myself as I remembered the first time that Srecko and I had our first real communication without his daughter Dragana translating for us. As I sat outside one evening working on my art in their courtyard where we ate most of our meals, he asked me if I wanted some more light. He communicated this by pointing to the light and saying, “Tesla?” It was a wonderfully clear and happy exchange for both of us, as I accepted his offer.
My favorite artist on exhibit inside these walls was Martin Jonaš (1924-1996). He was a co-founder of the gallery. My favorite painting that day is this one of the woman in the blue dress pulling a load. One can just FEEL how hard she works.
Martin Jonaš thinks like an artist. While looking at his works I was remembering a conversation that I had with my friend and mentor Vasily Fedorouk so many years ago. He said, “When you are learning to play the piano, you learn how to play each note. But when you actually play the piano, you do not play all of those notes at the same time. That is not music, it is noise.”
The discussion evolved into why artists will play down some parts of the anatomy or landscape even, and play up, or make larger even, the parts that contain the emotional idea in a work of art. Jonaš has taken this concept and run with it. I hope you enjoy the art of the farmers in Serbia.
While Smiglia, Dragana, and I were visiting Pančevo, Serbia, I was interviewed for their local newspaper. Dragana just sent me this link to the article that appeared yesterday. It is a funny translation via Google; not horribly far off, just at times nonsensical. For example, near the end of the interview when I spoke about the old buildings. I actually said that I loved the crumbling parts in the architecture. That while some people might think it was horrible, I found it beautiful. Enjoy…
Pančevac Press
Cari Amici (Dear Friends),
My longtime friend, former flatmate, and an artist in her own right, Dragana Adamov, is from Serbia. She recently invited me to go home with her (we both live in Firenze, Italia) to meet her family. So we rode a bus there. It was about a 15-hour ride during the afternoon and night, arriving around 5 or 6 a.m. Her parents picked us up in Belgrade, Serbia (their own name for the city is Beograd) and then we drove east a bit to arrive in their village.
Although most of our time was spent visiting local areas, traveling to other cities, or just spending time (and eating) with family and neighbors (and BOY, did we EAT!), Dragana and I did drive into Belgrade one evening for a bit of exploring. The images in this blog post were taken in Belgrade.
This first image was fun for me because my mother has almost always had long flowing blonde hair. We tend to do lots of “Cousin It” imitations, as well as laying our long hair over other people’s heads… silly fun. Still, this was a random sculpture that was quite unexpected in its placement and content. I really enjoy good site-specific sculpture.
Terra-cotta sculpture seems to be the most popular type here and Dragana told me that most of the clay that is used in this area comes from south Serbia. I am not sure if that includes the clay that the artists use, though, since I had been asking about all of the brick that is common in her family’s area for the construction of homes and businesses. In this large piazza there happened to be an exhibit of many terra-cotta sculptures, some quite large. In general, the style seemed primitive or naïve (please pardon me; I am horrible at classifying anything… I have always had a difficult time with labels). But I love the expressiveness of the sculptures I show you here. Frankly, I think that if the style had been more “classical” or “realistic” these works would have held less appeal or communication of the emotion they express so beautifully.
As we walked along, we saw a street performance happening along with a band playing behind the performer. I just like the cast shadows of the group of spectators, the sculpture (a statue of Prince Mihailo III on a horse in Republic Square, created in the mid 19th century), and the architecture of this area. We moved into a lovely park to get a bit of ice cream during the warm summer’s eve and I must say that Belgrade loves to have public fountains!
I took this last image because I just loved the simple and clean design of the building. It is elegant in its symmetry, lines, and light. I was told that this was a convent. I hope you enjoy these few shots of Belgrade, Serbia.
Thank you for reading!
Cari Amici (Dear Friends),
Continuing my post about the Cattedrale di San Giovanni Evangelista [11-14th century] in Sansepolcro, Italy, here is a look at more of the art inside.
The funeral monument and marble tomb of Abbot Simone Graziani (begun in the 16th century) is carved from marble and is situated on the wall next to a large painting. Not generally a fan of sculptures of horizontal bodies at rest, I nonetheless found the details in the frame surrounding the figure to be quite creative and beautiful. Specifically, I enjoy the combination of bas relief (“flat” sculpture, such as what you see on coins) and high relief sculpture (more in the round but still on a wall).
I also enjoy the combination of animals, human faces, and foliage and other organic elements. I chuckle at the intelligent and somewhat whimsical shape that appears at first glance to be a mathematical symbol or letter in an ancient alphabet only to discover that it is in fact a depiction of the hind legs of an animal. This work is highly decorative and beautiful in its symmetry.
To the right of the altar is a more complicated composition than the main altar itself shows off. With the rows of candles in front, this composition struck me as very well balanced. The painting in the center has a lot of negative space that not only gives the eye a place to rest a bit, but the upward glance of the figure and surrounding circle of faces all lead the eye up to the top. There is an incredible marble carving here of multiple figures ascending up through a domed window.
Seriously, how on Earth did these people LIFT such heavy and lovely pieces to such heights and without damage? These were the days before electricity and all the technology that came from after that time. Incredible what people have accomplished.
I also apologize for my inability to get the light meter to read what I wanted with this zoom lens. Still the art is inspiring, as intended in the church. All of the geometry is perfectly designed to lead your eyes to heaven. Wonderful!
Now, because I am a yin and yang kind of person, I must show something that is not so beautiful, although I wonder if it is a strange sign of love. This next and last image is of a painting that is in disrepair. I find destruction fascinating, perhaps the same way that small critters are confused into inactivity by the hunter for easier catching or a the lure of vampire’s hypnotic stare.
The light brown vertical lines you see are cracked areas in which the paint has fallen off… they connect up with the larger brown areas at the bottom. I suspect that the cracks have more to do with places in which either the canvas or the wood has been joined or folded or warped. (I forgot to look at this closely enough to get the details of this painting. Oops!)
But I just wonder if the bottom edge is gone for the same reason that many sculptures have details worn off or sport a bright bronze patina on some toes: people reach up to touch a beloved artwork and over many years, the oils from their fingers and the actual touching or rubbing of thousands of hands destroys the work. It is like polishing the worry stone in your pocket, if you will. This was what I meant when I said an act of love earlier. As an artist, I feel complimented that people loved my work enough to touch it out of affection or adoration.
As a side note, it is interesting how the color has faded on the shadow side of the leg in green… and ONLY in the green. Ah, so much to learn!
Today I have earned 48 years old. I have mixed feelings about it. On one hand, I know that I am in the right place and moving in a good direxion. On another, I worry about lost time and late starts (regarding my art mostly). Still, one foot in front of the other and if not now, when? The year just keeps on zipping past. I am on my way to Serbia tomorrow to accompany a friend. It may be a while before I post again. Happy summer to you and thank you for reading my little posts.
Cari Amici (Dear Friends),
I recently attended a wedding party in eastern Tuscany. I was actually the photographer for the groom, who is more serious about photography than I am. But, hey, a guy cannot always take his own photos, especially when he wants to enjoy the more important moments in his life! Thankfully, his camera has more juice and capability than mine does.
The photo shoot was scheduled for later in the afternoon when we got into a Bentley and rode south into Umbria for the photo shoot. Our driver Giorgio said in Italian, “No limits” when asked how fast this car would go … that just sounds cool, does it not? In the meantime, however, I decided to explore a bit of the town of Sansepolcro.
I wanted to share with you today images I took (with my own camera) of the Cattedrale di San Giovanni Evangelista [11-14th century]. It is a fairly modest cathedral, built on a slight incline, which one only really notices when viewing the outside steps.
The main altar is much more simply organized than most that I have seen in Italia, but I rather enjoyed all the empty white space above the main art piece at the back of the altar, as well as the echoing arched windows.
The paintings on the wall were pretty typical but some I thought were quite good compositionally speaking, and even technically. I am beginning to appreciate more and more how much thought goes into a multi-figure composition. Still, this church seemed to have more paintings about the actual crucifixion of Christ (I mean large main paintings) on the side walls than I have noticed before. I would have guessed that St. John the Evangelist would have been the primarily subject or perhaps more prominent in the artworks. All paintings here were well done.
Looking back towards the door one can see the lovely play of light and shadows as the afternoon sun peers into the cathedral through the round window and square doors. I hope that you can see it in this detail shot I took of just the window, but it appears to be made from large slices of an agate, with rich brown striations or patterns in the stone. Lovely, really.
More tomorrow . . .
Cari Amici (Dear Friends),
Whenever I am invited into someone’s home or working space here in Florence, Italy, I make it a point to go, even if it is early in the wee hours. The buildings here have so much history and while there have been renovations over the years, with the addition of electricity and plumbing for example, it always surprises me how many beautiful and art-filled places of yore still exist and are available to people to rent. [Although, sadly, it is true that many Florentines have moved out of the central part of the city because it has just become too expensive and maybe a bit too full of stranieri (foreigners) for their tastes.]
Most people visiting central Firenze (Florence’s true name) will never experience her mysteries and full beauty. The gardens and most of the Italian homes are hidden from casual view. It makes one wonder just how dangerous the medieval times really were! Walls are thick and one must often enter a courtyard to see much green in this city.
Recently, after an evening out with friends, our small party was invited over to join the neighbors of one of my friends for a couple of drinks. These images I took of their home give you an idea of its elegance. The two images in the middle of this collection were taken in the bedroom of one of the men. I must say that the trompe-l'œil borders on the ceiling were the most three-dimensional that I have seen. I was quite impressed and enchanted. I hope you can get an idea of what I mean…
Cari Amici (Dear Friends),
Anyone who follows my postings on Facebook might have the impression that I only play while I am in Italy. That is only partly true. Besides, how many images of an artist working can someone stand to look at? While part of my day is spent trying to learn more Italian, I am making art during other parts of the day.
Still do not believe me? Well, here is a snapshot of my studio… which doubles as the little room that I live in here in central Florence. I have only got three easels set up at the moment, with two of them holding works that are almost finished. I just want them around because often when I wake up and see them with a fresh eye, I find something to tweak. With me, there is usually more thinking than doing.
I do not claim to be a tidy person . . . never have been. It is just not how I choose to spend my time and I think the time to clean comes when my preferred activities become hindered by the things around me. I do not live the exotic life that some people seem to think that I do. However, once I step out of my little room, I am in Florence, Italy. And that is currently alright with me!
Other news:
Cari Amici (Dear Friends),
I wanted to share more images from my recent visit to the Villa Durazzo after my post about the inside of the building. The gardens surrounding the villa are lovely and trust me, my snapshots do not do it justice.
Here we are in Santa Margherita Ligure in the northwestern Italian coast, overlooking the Tigullio Gulf. Our host, a local boy (and friend), explained during our hike into the hills between his home and the nearby Portofino that the locals actually refer to this gulf as the “Gulf of Idiots,” but using a word that is slang for “idiot” in the dialect from Genoa. The people of Santa Margherita apparently earned this nickname when a whale was found inside the protected part of the gulf. The fishermen thought it was dead and tied it up. Someone later tried to climb on top of it, only to have the whale send a rush of air up through its blowhole. The whale escaped unharmed, but the town cannot live down this story.
Back to the gardens: I spoke with an old man in the garden who told me that some of the palm trees there were about 400 years old and started to show me how to determine the palm’s age. He was really sweet (and I have a thing for old people) and thus, I went back to speak with him again after we left the villa. I also wanted to point out one thing. In the back patio where you see the mosaic of pebbles in white and black, there is a well. It has REAL flowers placed around the top edge of the well and was simply gorgeous! It is so easy to see why people want to get married here. There is a special magic that occurs when mountains meet the sea.
