Politics, the Cosmos, Easter and Art

I first posted this to one "LeeFromVA," on the Huffington Post article What Barack Obama Could Not (and Should Not) Say, by Sam Harris. I repost it here:


Don't know whether you'll see this, but here goes anyway. "God impregnates some man's virgin wife so that the child can be viciously killed and therefore allow people into heaven?" etc. Yes, it's an amazingly difficult story to accept. "Even if it were true." "You'd think an all powerful God could find an easier way." Well, there is another narrative: that the universe began in a singularity, going from "nothing" to something in the blink of an eye. Fast forward, after the creation of other elements out of the combustion of hydrogen and helium, one finds planets spinning around stars in elegant elliptical orbits. "Life" (whatever that is) appears. Soon (a bunch of millions of years later) these earlier life forms have changed and changed until "primates" appear, some of whom develop so far as to be able to communicate with each other on Huff Po! One might call that "God's" (god in quotes) plan for whatever.
I find this alternate view to be a bit of a stretch too. But there it is. Primates with typewriters!
The problem of whether God exists or not, and whether a God who exists loves us or not, is an exceedingly complex question -- not the least when it concerns one personally. Does God care what happens to me?
The Bible -- in its historical accounts, its poetry, its metaphors, symbolism, parables, riddles, and other narrative devices -- asserts that God does exist and that God does "care." But do not suppose that it's a simplistic message. To the credit of the many Biblical authors, whoever they were, they deal head on with the apparent injustice of God. Why do innocent people suffer? Book of Job. Psalms. Proverbs.
I think the problem is when people try to turn complex ideas into something that fits a bumper sticker. Added to this problem is their tendency (you know who you are!) to irritate and annoy their fellows by endlessly repeating their simplistic notions.
God does work in mysterious ways (and I'll include modern physics as being among the mysteries) but I do sense (in my own life) God's presence and love. "We're not supposed to understand...."
I don't think we can understand is the point. Kind of like I cannot understand calculus but I'm willing to accept that it's probably true. Are we not supposed to question? Well, plenty of stories in the Bible are about people questioning. Genesis story of Abraham. God doesn't seem to mind the questions at all.
My question: does other peoples' misinterpretation of the Bible pose an obstacle to my faith? I don't think it should. I'm going to keep trying to understand the life I see around me. I think that such curiosity is a wonderful thing. I think it makes life an adventure. I hope I've convinced you of something similar. God is not giving us a school room test. No. Life is the real deal. And here it is.
A wonderful and mysterious thing. Best wishes to you.
We live in such amazing times. Where are the artists to paint the Cosmos now? When it has become so rich, complex and evocative? Where are the artists who might combine modern physics with spiritual understanding?

[illustrations: Giovanni di Paulo, Creation of the Earth and Expulsion from Paradise; Hieronymus Bosch, Garden of Earthly Delights (exterior panels)]

Suzanne Koch

This is an artist that I know people are unaware of -- a wonderful still life painter, Suzanne Koch. I own some of her earlier works. Here's one that I don't own.
Suzanne's painterly way of seeing and painting is closer to the way I've tended to approach things, but she captures the light falling over these objects here, in this painting, in such a summary and ephemeral way. It is as though the light just falls on them and she sees and records it instantly before it's passing.
It's an amazing picture. Hope that its loveliness is evident in this reproduction.

Diane Tessler

I like to compare paintings and put kindred spirits together. A friend of mine who's a curator told me recently that I should assemble my own exhibits. I'll let this be my notice to the world that I'm available to organize exhibits. MOMA, are you listening?
Anyway, here's another realist still life painter. Do not know if she and these other realist painter are aware of each other. Tessler is a Washington, DC, painter. I've known about her painting for years, but this foray into complex still life is new to me (though perhaps not to her -- I had lost track of her for quite a while).
So, this can be another in my imaginary exhibit of contemporary painting. I cannot find a link to Tessler's paintings, but to learn more one can search at the Virginia Art Leaague School.

Donna Phipps Stout

Found an artist whose still life paintings I really like: Donna Phipps Stout who is represented by the Jerald Melberg Gallery in Charlotte, NC.
I'm not trying to pit one painting style against another, I do think that Stout's arrangements of flowers and objects demonstrate a much broader and freer approach to drawing and form than does Dana Levin's. Saying that, I'll be the first to champion the beauty of Levin's painting. But Stout bites off more to chew than does Levin (or classical realists generally). She throws herself headlong into a confusion of light and dark, texture and color, and finds a wonderful unity within it. And she portrays the objects with a philosophic sense of beauty, stillness and time.
There's a larger vision available to the artist who is not locked into a formula for seeing and knowing a thing.
That said (I'm feeling guilty here) if Ms. Levin is wearing a straight-jacket, let's give her credit for its being a very beautiful one.
[Pictured above Spring Mementos, 60 x 48, 1997]

Weird Scrupples

Strange things bother me. I learned about this artist on the net, Dana Levin, who describes herself as a "classical realist." I've encountered a bunch of similar artists over the years and I always have a problem with them. The painting illustrated here is lovely. There's no denying.
What bothers me is the insistence on reestablishing a very narrow 19th century form of art pedagogy and pretending that it's the center of the universe. What motivates these artists? While the flowers pictured here is lovely,not all her paintings are as strong as these flowers, though most are quite good. But she has eliminated innumerable areas of visual experience through her narrow approach. (You have to read about her procedures to understand the point.)
What is so magical about French 19th century academicism? My goodness, it directs one away from any consideration of Pierre Bonnard, the Rohan Master, Jean Fouquet, Joan Mitchell, or Edgas Degas (just to name a few). What gives?
It strikes me as a deep insecurity. Ms. Levin's form of instruction is so fastidious, as though just drawing a stray line would be the end of the world! But in fact one gets a better, more firm, more flexible sense of draughtsmanship by using other means.
Look at something, put the line where you think it should go. A very simple manner of looking and drawing is much preferable to the machinations that she teaches her students to use.
Don't know why this bothers me (it's a free country), it's just that you cannot paint some of the most amazing things using these means. Botticelli, I guarantee you, did nothing remotedly like this when he painted Primavera.

For more on decoration as a form of invention in art, click here.

Searching for Claude Parsons

I was copying a picture by Claude Parsons from his book How to Draw and Paint Flowers. I'm not sure who Claude Parsons is. I was given this book years ago when I quit my job to paint full time. My employer was concerned that I know how to paint. Actually, I was already pretty well acquainted with the brushes and the easel!
But on a lark, I decided to copy Claude's very conventional still life, one that is supposedly designed to teach one how to paint. I was doing this in the spirit of seeing how much of my knowledge and personality would creep into my "copy."
Van Gogh made copies after Bargue, as well as after more important artists like Delacroix and Millet. He transformed his copies into "Van Goghs." Can I copy this conventional painting and make it into something that's "mine"?
Will post a photo of it when it's done.
Why did I start copying this Claude Parsons? A walk back down memory lane. When I was a kid, I had done things like this, and I think young artists often get their first idea about painting from these humble and unsophisticated sources. I knew a wonderful, self-taught artist who got his start watching Bob Ross!

Gerardo Pita, another instance

Find out more about him here.