Castles in the Air

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

I find it amusing to learn which modo di dire or expressions are common between countries and cultures, compared to what is not even translatable. Here in Firenze, Italia, I find myself having friends not only from Italy and America, but also from many other countries as well. One of my dearest friends, Caroline, is a Brit. She called me on New Year’s Day (and thankfully on this particular morn, not before noon!) and invited me to meet her and our Italian friend Doria at Palazzo Strozzi. We went to see the exhibit "The Thirties. The Arts in Italy Beyond Fascism".

It was more interesting than I expected it to be and I am not even sure how to explain what my expectations were other than I did not really have much of any. Like the Frances Bacon exhibit in the side gallery Strozzina, I had been riding the fence about whether or not I wanted to bother (I have not on the latter). I like to see art of all kinds, but I have a strong drive now to do my own thing.

I was amused because Doria and Caroline decided to share an audio guide, each taking one fork of the earplug microphones, in the same way that the kids share sounds on an iPod. They found themselves often being pulled back towards the other as their interests diverged, like a leash that kept them hostage. I rarely bother with the audio guides. Granted, they serve to give someone(s) a job, but much of talk seems like rubbish to me, or information that might be interesting, but omits what I really wanted to know about a work of art. I was able to roam about more freely.

I find that I really enjoy going to museums and exhibits in a foreign country in which English is a strong second language. I could have stayed longer at the Strozzi that day because I find it interesting how the Italian is reconfigured into English. It is a great way to learn a new language as well as appreciate anew the subtle beauties in one’s own. And so I languished among the artworks that I mostly felt little connection with, until Caroline psssstted me over to see one she thought I needed to see.

Once I arrived at her side, it was obvious why. She pointed and said, “Look at the title!” This painting (shown below) by Osvaldo Licini in 1936 is titled “Castello in Aria” (Castle in the Air). It is one of our running – and affectionate – jokes between ourselves: my ability to build many “castles in the air” (envisioned improbabilities) from one phrase, sometimes even one word (Hello?), uttered by another. What DOES it all mean? Ahhaha … Doria confirmed that not only do I do this, but Italia has the same expression. [Or as my former husband use to say, “Kelly, you could ‘What if’ me to death!”]

An exciting perk about attending group exhibits is to discover an artist that you would like to learn more about. In this mostra about the 1930s art in Italy, the one who struck my curiosity most was next to the Castle. It was a painting by Tullio Crali. Not only, like my father, was the artist an avid pilot, but his art uses mathematics in a beautiful and creative way and I was hooked! Crali’s work in this exhibit at the Palazzo Strozzi was titled “Horizontal Spin” and is shown here.

I found that my favorite part of the exhibit was the collexion of side posts that contained memories of people from that time period. The world was changing so dramatically and so quickly. The black and white hands drew me in (each panel had a different image of hands) and I read quotes such as this one:

“When Hitler came to Florence I was sent off with the Avanguardisti from heaven knows where, but still, all that orchestration was impressive. Yes, the city had been heavily “made up” for the event. You still couldn’t feel it, we only realised afterwards . . . And all this showing off, there was this business with the aeroplanes, you never knew how many were flying by; it seemed like a hundred, but it was only one flying by a hundred times. It was all about hiding things which there was nothing to be ashamed of.” ~ Lapo Mazzoi (Firenze 1925)

And this one:

“It was a crystal set, or cat’s whisker receiver, which as a very odd-looking little instrument containing a pin that was moved on a stone—it was a galvanic stone—and it managed to set up a contact with radio broadcasts. So the movement of the pin on the stone made it possible to intercept radio broadcasts, which you listened to through headphones connected to this little machine. It was technologically fascinating for those days. And then of course there were the radios, which were far simpler.
But the idea was that we could partly build them ourselves, using small parts. It was lots of fun.” ~ Franco de Peverelli Luschi (Firenze 1928)

It was interesting to note that various prestigious artistic awards of this time and place (such as the Bergamo Award and various Biennale) were caught up in politics. Perhaps not unlike today, but since that world of high-end contemporary art is still so foreign to me, I hate to comment on it. I found myself revisiting the chicken-and-egg question of whether art imitates life or life imitates art. We are all a product of our times and there are so many things happening at once that I doubt we individually have much control over what influences us. For example, in my world, it seems that there is a growing interest in “realistic” art (not even sure what that means since I see everything as relative and interconnected). Can we artists help this? Should we rebel or embrace? Should we consciously worry about these things or should we just move ahead, creating art in whatever means we are inspired to do? I am inclined to think that latter – that even if we try to remain spontaneous, we will inevitably record some part of the times we live in. That is not a bad thing, in fact, is perhaps what we are intended to do!

Links of interest :

• Palazzo Strozzi: The Thirties. The Arts in Italy Beyond Fascism The site is actually pretty cool and you can get a good idea of what the exhibit was intending to demonstrate. Click here… then click on ‘English’ in the top left corner. Then on the right column, click on ‘Exhibition Walkthrough’ and scroll to your heart’s content.
• Live with Art: blog post by Nora Buñuel about this Strozzi exhibit

Sleeping Angel Pastel Painting Art

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

Well, it seemed like a fun idea for me to start a tradition of creating and exhibiting a work of intentionally erotic art for a wish of abundant joy while heading into the New Year. But I seem to be getting tamer as each December arrives! Still, I at least have a new pastel painting of a MALE FIGURE for you! This one is called “Sleeping Angel” and was inspired by light and also the famous Italian artist Caravaggio and his "Sleeping Cupid."

If you would like to read more about the inspiration for this work of art that I have created, please click HERE to read my latest art newsletter. However, I have made a few changes to the 18” x 24” pastel painting and thus, here is a newer image of the ”Sleeping Angel.” I hope that you enjoy him and that you have at least a year of joy, peace, and above all, love.

Links to the other New Year’s Eve posts:
• New Year’s Eve 2011: Art and the Nude Artist poses in front of composition by artist Darryl Pottorf for Roberto Rauschenberg, in Robert and Darryl’s beach house in Florida
• New Year’s Eve 2010: “Anthurium” Nature repeats the patterns she enjoys
• New Year’s Eve 2009: “Tesoro!”
  freely offering our own vulnerability to another is quite a turn-on!

P.S. I am delighted to be able to announce now that my original stone carving "Kiss Me Blue" has been given to a very enthusiastic young woman in America as a Christmas gift (by her parents). So lovely to end the year with a sale, and for a new collector of my work!
”Kiss Me Blue”

In addition: There's a Caravaggio exhibit at Los Angeles County Museum of Art which continues through February 10, 2013. [Thanks to blog reader and art model Andrew Cahner for this tip.]

“Bodies and Shadows: Caravaggio and His Legacy”

Millesimi Wine Shop Florence Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

Here it is, Christmas Eve, well, technically Christmas, I guess. I enjoyed a lovely dinner and conversation with a sweet friend earlier, missed my goal of getting inside the Basilica di Santa Croce just to touch base with Michelangelo’s tomb (hey, he is my Jesus), and have been working on sharing images and other things before I get on a train in the early morning to spend Christmas by the Italian sea with friends. But, hey, that is what having no family around means, right? Work-a-holic. Ha.

I am actually just now starting to relax while I gear up for my week of solitude so that I can finally finish a collection of pastel and charcoal drawings that I need to complete. I recently shipped out the following pastel painting. It is a commissioned portrait of twin babies, a boy and a girl. They have the most amazing blue eyes, with his being darker.

However, I found this a bit difficult because I only met these lovely children briefly and had to work from photographs that I did not take. It was an interesting challenge to try to pair up photos that were not necessarily taken at the same time, get the sizes and lighting right, and try to capture the spirit of people I just do not know. For example, I began to get an impression of the twins based on the photos I was first given. I wrote to their grandmother, who commissioned this work, and told her my guesses about their personalities. Well, I was 100% wrong! The one who looked shy and demure in the photos was the dramatic and often dominant personality and vice versa. So glad that I asked! Anyway, I am pleased with what I was able to do with pastel on paper and subtle lighting (flash images always are difficult to work from since they flatten the forms). I hope the family loves the art once it arrives in America.

Hmmm, I just realized that I am writing a post combining babies and booze. Ah, well, sono io… I needed some spirits for a couple of events I was invited to attend this season and I decided to “shop locally” which in Firenze means going to a small shop in my neighborhood instead of the grocery store. One would think that I might know something about wine and bubbly by now, but all I know is that I prefer red wines and I prefer those from Sicily and Sardinia. Other than that, I am pretty much at a loss.

Imagine my delight: What a pretty store is Millesimi SRL! It is not far from my home in the Santo Spirito neighborhood of Firenze and is located on Borgo Tegolaio 33 r (the “R” means ‘red’ and in Italy, the red address numbers usually designate a business property, whereas blue means residential). This street is located between Piazza Santo Sprito and the Palazzo Pitti. I have walked by this place often and thought, “Someday I will go in.” Done. Happy about it, too.

Everything is organized beautifully and I was able to see quickly what kind of selection there was and that there was a large variety of offerings, in price, region, color, everything. However, after taking a walk through, I decided to ask for advice. This is Christmas after all, and why not? Besides, it was an opportunity for me to practice speaking Italian. Sadly, I can usually explain what I want, even if awkwardly, but I often have a difficult time understanding others. I am working on it. I find that like anything else really, trying is what really tips the scales.

Anyway, I told Gianni (sounds like “Johnny”) what I was looking for and my budget and he led me to some lovely choices. He wrapped them up in pretty packaging for me. My experience was such a good one that I hope to have reasons to return. And he let me take these images of the place. How could I resist the poinsettias with the wines and bubblies? I hope you enjoy. And I list the contact information here, in case you want to order something yourself.

Millesimi SRL
Borgo Tegolaio 33/R
50125 Firenze Italia
Tel. (+39) 055 2654182
E-mail: millesimisrl@tin.it

Tanti auguri per un buon natale!

Gabriël Metsu Letter Painting

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

Another oil painting that I admired in the currently running exhibit “Vermeer: il secolo d’oro dell’arte olandese” ("Vermeer: the Golden Age of Dutch Art") in Roma is “Man Writing a Letter (1662-1665)” by Gabriël Metsu.

This painting has so many beautiful things going on, mostly the light and the warm colours. The shapes are subtle, with enough diagonals to keep things from becoming stale. The subject matter is intriguing in that the viewer must wonder who the man is writing to and what he is writing about. The various textures are rich, from the luxurious tablecloth (which looks more like a rug to me) to the man’s clothes to the elaborate frame, the floor, and the globe. I like it, too, that while most of the image is quite tight in its rendering, the painting on the wall actually looks painterly. This better creates the illusion for the viewer that he is looking into a real space that contains a work of art.

There are a few details that bother me in an otherwise gorgeous painting.

• I do not believe the hat is actually hanging on the chair. Nor do I believe that it is about to fall off. I do not get a sense of movement that would help me feel that.
• I do not like the exaggerated curve on the right side in the “trim” between the red and black sections of the triangle of fabric that hangs off of the table corner. I am referring to the parallel lines in the fabric that point to the man’s right knee. The curves imply that the fabric is wavy, but the way the lighting was painted suggests one large rounded form.
• I love the squared-off front of the man’s shoe for the foot on top. However, the way the lighting hits this shoe seems to make the foot look too twisted and I find this confusion distracts me.

Back to the good stuff. I find the mathematics in this painting to be intriguing. The canvas has been divided into four even quarters. The shadow behind the window does this. And thus, I find it interesting how each quarter has a set of shapes within that differs from the other quarters. I am not sure if that makes sense. What I refer to is how the top right quarter is basically a block within a block. The top left is similar, but the globe and man’s head are round shapes that break into the block forms.

The lower left quarter has predominant reds, a basic block shape (the table) contrasted with the large cone shape off to the right half. And finally the lower right quarter of the painting has predominantly black shapes, with receding diamonds in the floor pattern and one large dark, interesting shape pointing across the canvas to the top left where the other black shapes are.

Like the painting I wrote about in my last post, the painting by Gabriël Metsu is a well-balanced composition of symmetry and asymmetry.

I also include here the painting that was hung to the left of “Man Writing a Letter” and this one was created in similar dates and titled, “Lady Reading a Letter.” I was not as drawn to this painting as I was her companion piece. Perhaps it is the higher key (overall lighter tones) or the softer colors. Or maybe the letter reading is not as prominent an action in this painting, which lures me to view the woman looking behind a curtain, not through a window but to a concealed painting! Or the dog takes my attention. Also, mathematically speaking, the shapes are not related in as interesting a way (for me) as the first painting. But, to each their own and they both are beautifully executed.

Happy Birthday, Mamma Mia! The letter to you is on its way across the Pond.

Hendrick van Vliet Rome Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

Inside the Vermeer exhibit that I wrote about last time, “Vermeer: il secolo d’oro dell’arte olandese” ("Vermeer: the Golden Age of Dutch Art"), was a painting by Hendrick van Vliet. He did a series of paintings of the Nieuwe Kerk (new church) in Delft in The Netherlands and oddly, I was not able to find a proper image of this particular painting online. So you are stuck with my “illegal snapshot.”

I tried to learn what I could from seeing these paintings in person, although I must admit that I had not seen most of them in books. I need to get out more! Seriously, though, I was moving slower than my friends were because I was taking time to really look at the works and make decisions for myself on how each may have been done and what, if anything I would change TODAY if I tried to copy these paintings.

At some point, my friend Anne Berit walked back to me and showed me her favorite pair of paintings. So, then I led her to a part earlier in the exhibit to this one. I told her what I enjoyed about this painting, as well as what I would change. It is a strange thing to crit a work of art when one can clearly see the skills of the artists.

But, here goes: I like the lighting on this painting. It definitely reads from left to right. The shapes are interesting and the red cape is placed well, with enough red throughout the composition to give some color harmony to the work. The people are interacting with one another and despite the hard edges everywhere (mentioned in my last blog entry), the figures are believable enough. And I love it that dogs are inside the church! And not just because they are well done and used compositionally to point to the interior of the church.

However, what first drew my attention to this painting was that the shadow on the hat of the man with the red cape is way too dark, or the other parts of his person are too light. I think the high contrast on the main figure’s head is a good idea since the eye is drawn to this first. So, in this case, I would have chosen to make PARTS of the shadows in the cape darker, but certainly the back side of the man should be darker to show that his back is away from the light. Because of this disparity, I do not see this man as three-dimensional.

But back to something positive, I really enjoy how clever the artist was to handle the parallel columns in different ways. Variety is infinitely more interesting than symmetry, although one needs the latter to emphasize the former. Can you imagine how the painting would feel if both columns were in the same light, with the same rendering of the roundness from light side to dark side?

It is brilliant that the artist left one column in full light, while the other not only had an overall shadow falling on it, but also some specific shadows that break up the light shape on the top left of the column (on the right). We do not see in the painting what would cause the shadows, but their presence creates interest that is subtle enough to not take us away from the overall impression of the painting.

The artist has done the same with the floor, breaking up the grey pavement with light shapes. The light from windows (not presented on canvas) that falls onto the lower left of the floor in the painting serve to point into the composition, as well as underline the group of figures above it, drawing attention to this corner and activity in the painting. And while one could argue that perhaps all of those lights and shadows did exist and the artist simply reproduced them, I would argue, ok, but then do not discount the artistry of the architect! Like a sculptor, a good architect studies the light of the site for which he designs and plans accordingly.

It is an interesting exercise to look at compositions and notice what shapes repeat, giving us a sense of balance and tranquility versus how the repetition is kept from becoming boring by adding subtle differences to the symmetry. If you have not tried it (lately), please do. It is by an artist’s design!

If you would like to see more of the exhibit, here is another link: http://www.essentialvermeer.com/delft/delft_today/oude_and_nieuwe.html

Happy Winter Solstice and apparently the End of the World

Vermeer Exhibition Rome Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

We went to Roma recently to see the exhibit “Vermeer: il secolo d’oro dell’arte olandese” ("Vermeer: the Golden Age of Dutch Art"), although being the multi-taskers that we all are, Vermeer was not the only reason to go to Roma (as hopefully you gathered from my recent blog posts). The exhibit was inside the Quirinale in the central part of the city and is easy to find.

I enjoyed the display. Each painting was hung on its own colored wall. There was a warm feel to the room by the variety of colors chosen and the personal attention given to each work. The artist’s name was written at the top of each wall, except Vermeer’s. His purple walls signified royalty, and like royalty, one need not be given the royal person’s name. One is expected to know these things already.

It is quite possible that I “people watch” as much as I look at the art on the walls. I was enchanted by a father who took his young son to each painting. They spoke at length about each one, longer than most people generally stand in front of a work of art. They are in the foreground of this image I secretly took of one of the Vermeer’s paintings on exhibit. (See the purple wall?) Until someone can explain how my flash-less, noiseless behavior is hurting the art or the viewers of it, I will continue to take images without permission. Most of the time, what I am interested in is not something that I will find on a postcard, or even sometimes in the catalog. And there you have it: another human behavior noted. We all justify our own actions, good or “bad.”

This painting of the girl in the red hat by Johannes Vermeer is the one that is being used on all the publicity. It is quite beautiful with a wonderful use of color and, of course, light. But I had not expected it to be so small, perhaps 8 x 6 inches? It is no surprise that the qualities that I enjoyed about the Vermeers were the soft edges, atmosphere, and the dramatically soft light.

As my friend Roberto pointed out, “The Lute Player” (shown here) is lovely because of its intimacy. The majority of the paintings in this exhibit were by contemporaries or perhaps students or followers of Vermeer. However, most were not to my taste. In general, one could appreciate the skills and technique involved. Painting is, after all, a difficult thing to do well. Besides the occasional poor drawing skills, the edges were all so sharp that I wondered if these artworks were painted in the fast drying egg tempera. When edges are consistently sharp, the viewer can have the impression that the work was a bit formulaic, not unlike a paint-by-number situation, although I am not intending to be so ugly.

I do not know art history as well as I should, I suppose, but it seems to me that the Dutch were interested in portraying their own contemporary Dutch life sooner than many other painters had moved away from mythological or religious concepts. I enjoyed how often dogs were painted into these scenes. I miss my dog Zac a lot and remember well how important these companions are in our daily lives. I was also amused by the artists who wanted us to see dogs peeing, even inside of a church!

The painting that I found myself drawn to again and again was the self-portrait of Carel Fabritius. A student of Rembrandt and tutor to Vermeer, he died at a horribly young age, in the famous Delft Explosion. Carel Fabritius died of his injuries after a gunpowder store exploded. Most of his paintings were lost as well.

This self portrait from 1650 (four years before his death) is beautifully done and we studied it for a long while. But what is up with that hat on the right side? Seriously, had it made sense and been symmetrical with the rest of the form of the hat, it would not be nearly as interesting a shape! How does one invent such joys? Also, as I commented to Roberto, the eyes do not match up as we are taught to do, but they work. However, I do not think the eyes would have worked if the shoulders did not work with them. There is a quality – je ne sais quoi – that is consistent in the body language. It is the illusive thing that we artists want to capture… the essence of the emotion in the gesture. Hmmm….

The exhibit “Vermeer: il secolo d’oro dell’arte olandese” ("Vermeer: the Golden Age of Dutch Art") continues at the Quirinale in central Rome until 20 January 2013.

Here are some lovely large images from the Vermeer exhibit, including a study that Vermeer did from a Florentine artist. It is interesting to see the changes that he made to the original: https://art4arte.wordpress.com/tag/jan-van-der-heyden/

You might also enjoy this link: http://www.alaintruong.com/tag/Carel%20Fabritius.

Buon compleanno, Roberto! Your enthusiasm is contagious and pure.

P.S. These latter images are some of the views I had while inside the Quirinale in Roma, Italy.

Bone Crypt of Friars Cappuccini Rome Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

Back in the summer of 2009, I visited Austria and wrote about the Beinhaus (The Bone House) in a Gothic church in Hallstatt.

In my recent trip to Roma, my friends and I visited the Museo Frati Cappuccini described in my last post. Once you get past all of the traditional museum stuff, you enter . . . La Cripta dei Cappuccini aka Cripta Ossario (bone crypt).

I was asked by my Austrian friend years ago not to take photos inside the Beinhaus out of respect for the dead, but that seems different from staff trying to sell postcard images, so I share with you a few snapshots I snuck of this amazing way to … honor the dead. If you can step back about the subject matter for just a moment, think abstractly, and take in the shapes, I hope you will see that there is a grace and elegance to the lace-like designs.

I find that the scientific and curious part of my brain takes over in situations like this. I am not sure that I think it is offensive to arrange bones in any manner once people are dead (or to photograph such artistic compositions). Unless, of course, you killed them. I am not convinced that we need our bodies after death. I suspect that our energy “simply” changes. In any event, I doubt we need our body parts after death and I tend to think it is more important for those that go on living to express their grief and love in a way that comforts them and acknowledges cherished memories of another. And I am not sure what the answer is to the question of how one arrives at obtaining clean bones for such cryptic compositions.

Also, I am fascinated continually by the design of our bodies. Our bones are very specific shapes even when they vary for individuality. They curve for engineering purposes and are relatively strong; yet lightweight for the tasks they have been given. I find it fascinating to see bones arranged into delicate shapes and patterns that are aesthetically lovely. I believe that those who are responsible for creating this crypt of bones did so out of a deep-felt passion and love.

Visit the Crypt in Rome, Italy:
La Cripta dei Cappuccini
Chiesa dell'Immacolata in via V. Veneto, 27
Convento dei frati cappuccini – Roma
Here is another link with a cool image of the crypt..

P.S. On a happier note, I recently successfully applied to renew my “Permesso di Soggiorno” (permission to stay in Italy for another year). This was only one step, but I now have an appointment with the Questura (Italian immigration police) in January. So, I can legally spend the holidays here and am already painting on several things and happy about it.