It’s that time of the year - the time that always makes me feel nostalgic for running cross county in high school. That time when my neighborhood becomes a harmonious symphony of greens, pinks, reds, golden yellows, and vibrant oranges and cars drive slower down the street to soak in all their loveliness. After four years living in Indianapolis, I’ve created a small collection of pieces of fall based paintings of various sizes.
Chauvet Caves
Exploring the Chauvet Caves
Perhaps you’re like me and never gave thought much about ancient cave paintings — or if you did, you simply disregarded them any deeper consideration, writing them off as primitive and crudely executed. Then during a mixed media course exploring the sacred & profane, my professor and friend, Pauline introduced me to The Cave of Forgotten Dreams by Werner Herzog, a documentary about the Chauvet Caves in the Ardeche region of France. As I was reminded more upon a more recent viewing, the film’s biggest strength is the extensive filming showing the grandeur of the cave paintings.
Discovered in 1994, the Chauvet Caves are considered to be among the oldest cave paintings in the world by radiocarbon dating and were created in several stages, several thousand years apart. The paintings have been perfectly preserved for the last thousands of years due to the main entrance being blocked by a landslide. Not much is known about the original purpose of the paintings, and it’s all speculation given the length of time passed, but evidence suggests that people did not live in the cave, so they could have been related to religious/spiritual purposes. In order to insure that they stay preserved as experience from the Lascoux caves shows the negative impact , only a select group of archeologists, geologists, and paleontologists are permitted into the caves.
Instead, visitors can see a replica of the cave painting several kilometers away. I had the opportunity to see it in 2018 when Pauline invited us to come along. The tour is guided which unfortunately means that you can only look at the drawings for a pre-selected amount of time. However, even with these limitations the tour offers a great understanding and appreciation of these ancient artworks. The exhibit shows the great thought and care that went into the paintings and dignifies the creators as intelligent creators. For example, since the paintings are dependent on the formations of the walls, the replica imitates the rock formations.
Frequently, one sees the grand story of art in such a way that shows these early works as the start of the build up towards the naturalism, linear perspective, and detailed anatomy of the Renaissance and then a disintegration of these artistic values to the abstraction of modern and contemporary art. Instead, one should seek to view the cave paintings as worthy art by their own means with a conception of reality that is not reliant on naturalistic portrayals of the subjects. A better reading of the cave paintings sees the manner in which they are painted - the sweeping, broad contours that make up the animals, the laying of various figures against one another, and the use of the rock walls of the cave - as key features which reveal deeper significance of the works. I particularly love the way in which the repeated gestures of a figure createsthe illusion that the animal is moving.
If you ever happen to find yourself in the Ardeche region of France, I would definitely recommend a visit. For a more budget friendly option, however, you can check out the Cave of Forgetten Dreams.
Journey in Portraiture
I’ve long been fascinated by portraiture, but I didn’t have many opprotunities to learn or practice in high school or in my college courses. My sophomore year at Covenant College, I began asking my friends to sit for me in the art barn (our art building was an old barn converted into studio space). These first undirected attempts at the time felt quite satisfactory.
It wasn’t until I studied abroad at the Marchutz School of Art the fall of my senior year that I had greater opportunity for portraiture. Two or three weeks at the end of the semester were dedicated solely to portraits. Each students sat before the class for an hour and a half, providing two portraits in a three hour class. The rudimentary surface (aka cardboard) I was using soaked up the paint quickly, a quality I came to like a good deal. It allowed me to lay strokes on top of one another within the same sitting without the first strokes being wet. I concentrated on getting as much of the figure as I could into the painting, focusing not on the particulars of their features, but rather on the ensemble of the whole person. By the end of my time in France I had about 20 small portrait studies to take home with me.
Back at Covenant, I completed my Senior Project doing portraiture. I saw these as quick studies, chances to experiment and take risks while honoring my friends and mentors. I found that when I tried making the portraits with the whole figure as I had at Marchutz, I wasn’t able to have the kind of one to one experience I had hoped for, so I ended up focusing largely just on their faces.
I used the opportunity to explore different ways of trying to get at the personalities of my friends through various approaches in my painting, some to greater success than others.
When I returned to Marchutz in 2016, portraiture became the thing I loved most. Each person compelled me for their own unique way of being and existing in the world. The physical components of a person, as well as the manner in which they sat - sitting straight up or leaning to the side-, the tilt of their head, and glance of their eyes seemed to reveal aspects of a person’s inner life and personality. By approaching portraiture in a new way, particular to the portrait, I was able to explore what was unique to that person.
Since returning to the US in 2018, I’ve had less opportunities for portraiture, but I was able to do some with a group that meant every other week until the pandemic hit.
Albert Giacommetti
Book Review: A Giacometti Portrait by James Lord
I first read this quick book for a school assignment as a way to engage in the process and painting of Albert Giacometti. The book follows the author, James Lord, as he sits for his friend Giacometti, already considered one of the greatest artists of the twentieth century at the time. The story begins as Lord agrees to sit for Giacometti for a one-session “quick portrait sketch on canvas” (3). When the initial session ends, Giacometti realizes it’s too late to stop: he must continue with the work as a full painting. Lord ends up sitting for a total of eighteen sessions (the book is divided into a chapter for each session), delaying his flight out of Paris multiple times solely for the purpose of sitting for the portrait.
What ensues are various discussions between Lord and Giacometti ranging from art to the best way to die or simple chit chat, but what emerges from their, at times seemingly insignificant exchanges, is a discussion of Giacometti’s primal motivation for creating (he often interchanges between sculpting and painting as we see in the book). Much like the portrait as we follow in its evolution, Giacometti’s emotions towards making art vacillate between frequent optimism and, even more frequently, lows as he paints. He goes from untiring efforts to press forward to being on the verge of quitting art altogether and back again to hope. Underlying all this is the importance he places on pursing vision of reality and the recognition that art ultimately fails to true capture reality as we see it. Lord writes:
What meant something, what alone existed with a life of its own was his indefatigable, interminable struggle via the act of painting to express in visual terms a perception of reality that had happened to coincide momentarily with my head. To achieve this was of course impossible, because what is essentially abstract can never be made concrete without altering its essence.” (72)
It is this hope of grasping at reality through painting that spurs Giacometti forth in his painting and the very fact of its impossibility that provides his eternal despair. It is perhaps because of this paradox that Giacometti creates his work, as Lord writes, “almost a by product [. . .] of his endless struggle” (97).
Though we find the ebb and flow of this struggle at the heart of the book, the book touches on several over notes, several of which I found especially intriguing in thinking of it in relation to my own work as an artist. For example, Lord writes about how painting for Giacometti requires that he see his subjects as though for the first time, “To him [. . . ], the visual response to reality was utterly new, because he possesses the rare capacity of seeing a familiar thing with the intense vividness of completely new sight.” (48) It is this ability, Lord believes, that imbues Giacometti’s work with a sense of freshness and newness. In my own work, I find that this prevents me from get stuck painting a subject with a particular approach or technique and allows me to take risks. Likewise, their discussion of what makes a person recognizable rings true:
“But there is very little differences between people. For instance, what causes me to recognize you in the street?”
“The ensemble?”
“Yes, but not any single detail. Details are unimportant in themselves.” (40)
Often we get caught up thinking creating a likeness in portraiture is about the features and details of their face rather than focusing on the whole of the person and how he or she is situated within space. In Giacometti’s on work, we can see how he always painted with the full figure, even though he always focused the greatest attention on the volume of the head.
If one can humor the numerous tirades and complaints of Giacometti that accompany his creative process and submit to the subjective viewpoint of our sitter, then one can indeed find a quick, one sitting read that gives birth to a new or deeper appreciation for the artist even if one is not naturally inclined towards his work. It proves to be not simply a narrative of Giacometti’s process for a portrait, but a portrait of Giacometti himself.
Lord, James. A Giacometti Portrait. Farrar Straus Giroux, 1980.
Visit to Tucson
At the beginning of the month I went to visit my dear friend from college and fellow artist, Joanna Hennigan, husband (also a friend from college), and daughter in Tucson, Arizona. Not only I hadn’t seen them in almost four years, I had also never been to the Southwest United States, I so I was quite looking forward to this trip and I was not disappointed! Right away, I was amazed by beauty of the landscape that was so different from anywhere else I had been visited. Photos had failed to capture what being in this strange and harsh yet stunning and eternally fascinating land would be like for me. As we caught up with each other, Joanna familiarized me with the area by taking me to several sites including The Desert Museum, Tumamoc Hill, The San Xavier Mission and Mt. Lemon. Wherever we went, I tried to bring my sketchbook to sketch or do watercolors.
Even though oils are my first love, watercolors are a great way for me to be able to bring a color medium with me on trips without taking up very much space. I use a little box set from Sennelier that’s smaller than my hand! I just taped watercolor paper into the pages of my sketchbook and I was set to go. While I painted this on Mt. Lemon, Joanna and her daughter did their own painting.
Meeting Joanna’s daughter for the first time was one of the (many) highlights of my trip. One of our favorite activities together was drawing and painting. If I had my sketchbook open and a pencil around, she just went right along and started drawing, no questions asked.
Joanna and I both started out college working in painting and drawing, but once we took ceramics, Joanna found her true passion was ceramics, particularly throwing. She now has her own ceramic business. Many of her pieces draw inspiration from her surroundings in the desert.
We were able to get some time away to the pottery co-op studio where she throws, glazes, and fires her works to do some creating. While she worked on glazing some mugs, I threw for the first time in a couple of years. It’s definitely not my strength, but it was so fun being at the wheel again. We took them to her home to dry and I painted them with engobe to decorate them.
Later we worked on a collaboration. I used her underglaze painted to paint a desert landscape on one of her bisque fired mugs (first firing, without any glaze). Although I had used underglaze before, this was a new experience because I had never painted an entire scene using many colors with mixing and layering involved. I painted it as though I was painting in oil or water, but the way underglazing works, you don’t see the final color and it is cooked in the fire, so it can be definitely be tricky. Joanna will dip the mug with a clear glaze and then fire it in the kiln again. I’m excited to see it when it comes out!
All photos are courtesy of Joanna Hennigan. You can check out her work at her website https://joannahennigan.com or on instagram @joanna.hennigan.