A Christmas Present and Christmas Concert

Among many lovely Christmas gifts I am most excited by a gorgeous book about painter Casper David Friedrich. I have had a growing interest in him over the last year and growing sense that there is something there for me in terms of influence. That is what we do after all isnt it? We find an artist that excites us and we see what is in it for us to take?

Anyway, I have been hesitant to delve into Friedrich’s oeuvre for fear of scaring whatever subtle thing lies waiting for me there. Even now I have this wonderful book( As an aside nothing makes me much happier now that a well times book about about an artist! Last year was Bonnard and previously Beckman) as i was saying even though I have the book I am hesitating. As a friend put it ” the promise of the potential is a beautiful thing in itself” perhaps I am savouring that.

I feel a little reverent about the book and have that strange desire to read it all word for word. I dont know if I will. I never have before , I usually start and then study picture after beautiful picture.

Moonrise by the Sea, C.D.Friedrich, 1822, Oil on canvas

On The 23rd Dec I was lucky enough to go for the first time to St Paul’s in Birmingham to hear a concert by Ex Cathedra. What  a beautiful experience and it seemed to me that the voices in the choir were used like colours from a palette to paint such evocative images. Obviously Agnes Dei brought me to tears. I have to say I have not stopped listening to the CD I bought.

There are some obvious links between these two influential things. I have been on an ongoing search for a spiritual(horrible word!) stand point for some years and it has already influenced my work although I rarely, if ever talk about it.  Perhaps this coming years work will see that develop.

As for Friedrich, well it might be that I finally learn from him how to paint the night and that would be exciting.

A confession – Dear Friend

Dear Friend

Its been a while since I wrote to you. I thought of you whilst on a recent visit to London. I had a couple of spare hours and was in the vicinity of Somerset House. I decided to while away the hours in the Courtauld Institute. It was here that I was reminded of you and the many happy times we have spent looking at art together.  I decided then that I must write a share my thoughts. I hope that this letter finds you well and it to reminds you of good times.

I must first confess that despite many years of doing so and even teaching others the skill, that I am less than good at looking at the art of others. My dear friend I do find it difficult. Even with a reasonable knowledge of the “whens” and “whys” of the thing I do lack the insight that you so often demonstrate. Perhaps the suppositions that an painter should be good at looking at paintings is a hasty one.  You will see from my thoughts that my opinions are unreliable and idiosyncratic to say the least. If I cannot share this in private with you then perhaps there is no place that I can.

I freely admit my excitement at finding myself with a couple of “stolen” hours to indulge in the great pleasure of being amongst the products of my heroes. I took great pleasure in placing my winter clothes in the locker to make myself lighter and more comfortable to submerge into this world that is I understand grandiose and pompous to many contemporaries.

I made my way to the top of the institute, up the grand staircase and straight to the temporary exhibition of Spanish drawing from “Ribera to Picasso” I found myself a little disappointed. I know for well the difficulty of handling and looking after these old drwing but there presentation in uniformly dull framing does for me sap all of the life from them. These are working documents of the artist often never intended to to be exhibited or even seen publicly. These frames make too much of them at the same time as sterilising the life right out of them. A contradiction I know but I trust you will know what I try to convey.

There are fabulous moments though and my favourite drawing was “Santiago at the battle of claviso” by Maties De Torres which contained this fabulous flying horseman. My disappointment didnt last though as I wondered room after room of my heroes work.

Anyway I must close for now, I will write again soon to tell you of the magical little Seurats!

yours faithfully

Your old friend D