Third Aeolian Advent

Third Aeolian Advent, 5 x 8", mixed media

All the ideas for this posting came together, appropriately, in the inky-dark of an early December morning. I've been cogitating on the sixth chakra, also called the Third Eye, and the Aeolian mode, the sixth of the seven modes that I've been studying. My exercise has been to pair the chakras and the modes, one through seven. At the same time, there was a call out from Performance Today to identify one's favorite Christmas carol. I thought back on this and remembered the effect that hearing O, Come, O, Come Emmanuel for the first time, almost forty years ago, had on me. There was a haunting yearning that swirled inside in me. In the darkness, I wondered if the carol was in the Aeolian mode. When I woke up later in the morning, I tried it out on Redbud, my modal harp. Yes! These three entities come together in a surprisingly close way and offer guidance for today's world.

The Third Eye energy center is all about perception and knowledge. In fact, it is about the knowledge that makes knowledge.  All this knowledge is gathered together and funneled down the feminine triangle (pointed side down). When we use our Third Eye, we are able to see the world clearly. We can "analyze, think, reason, perceive, understand, discern, dream, imagine and visualize."* We also open our eyes to beauty and wonder. Spiritual experience is grounded.  "What we have experienced in the depths must also stand the test of everyday life."**  Arnold Bittlinger, in his book Archetypal Chakras, points out that "everything comes to an end... even the time of retreat".  We must take all that we learned in our introversion and act. Personal will unites with divine will in harmony.

Indigo is the absorbing color of the sixth chakra. Indigo is a mix of blue, the absorbing color of the Throat Chakra, and violet, the absorbing color of the Crown Chakra.  Golden Moon is the transmitting color.  Moon imagery made me think about the cycles of the moon and time passing. This energy center is about understanding the past, clearly seeing the present and envisioning a future.

How does this energy about knowledge and perception tie in with the Aeolian mode? The Aeolian mode is "introspective, plaintive and hauntingly beautiful"*** This describes how I felt on hearing Oh, Come, Oh, Come, Emmanuel. How odd that Rejoice!  is chanted in such a melancholic sounding tone. Played in all naturals, the Aeolian is based on the key of A minor with alternating major and minor chords. The lyrics are sympathetic to the Aeolian plea and the Third Eye yearning through understanding the past (O come, thou Branch of Jesse's tree) seeing the present (Israel...mourns in lonely exile) and imagining the future (O come, Desire of nations, bind in one the hearts of all man-kind).

Now, I hear you saying, "Kathy, this is not a Christmas carol! It is an Advent hymn!" And, you are correct. Advent is a very sixth chakra season. We are invited to pause, perceive and prepare; and admonished to keep awake. Our weary world is in need of folks opening the presents of the Third Eye; seeing the world as it is and imagining with generous spirits and hope.

* Choquette, Sonia. True Balance: A Commonsense Guide for Renewing Your Spirit. Three Rivers Press, New York, New York; 2000.  The chapter on "Balanced Personal Vision" is very timely reading. I highly recommend it.

** Bittlinger, Arnold. Archetypal Chakras: Meditations and Exercises for Opening Your Chakras.
Red Wheel/Weiser, York Beach, ME; 2001.

*** Mell, Joanna. Modal Musings: Modes & Music. Joanna Mell; 2011.
   

Back to the Church of Bartok

Bartok Harmony, Opaque watercolor and Cray-pas, 8 x 10"

Growing up, my family belonged to the Unitarian-Universalist Church. At some point, after I had started playing the viola, a small instrumental (mostly/entirely strings?) ensemble was formed. It was called Bartok's in honor of the Hungarian composer Bela Bartok (1881-1945). The thinking at that time (the mid to late '60s) was that Bartok was under-appreciated. Our leader was Dr. Wagner, a chemistry professor at the University of Kentucky. He had high hopes for our little band. I remember him becoming very angry with his son, Russell, our cellist, who went on to become a luthier in the Chicago area. I had only 2-3  years of experience on the viola under my belt and the music of Bartok (which naturally, was featured) was way beyond my skill-set. My older brother, also a violist, was part of the ensemble. He was more adept. We carried on, no doubt propelled by Jenny Wagner, who went on to be the Assistant Concertmaster for the Chicago Symphony. Meanwhile, I muddled through and had great anticipation for what would follow the Friday practice session--our weekly spaghetti supper!

     So imagine my excitement when I learned that our local chamber music society would be sponsoring a concert by the Daedalus String Quartet including Bartok's String Quartet No. 3. And, since they are trying out new venues this year, it would be at the U-U Church. I would be able to actually hear Bartok's music in my old haunt. It would be my chance to hear the argument for Bartok within the decagonal confines of my youth. 

      We arrived on a cold, but sunny afternoon. When the the church was built, it was way out in the country. Now, you have to watch carefully for the turn. It comes up quickly after the houses end in a concentrated suburbia. The church provides a welcome green space in the midst of development. The trees and arbors have been growing for decades and are taking on an ancient quality. The sanctuary space remains decagonal, but where we had sort of a theater-in-the-round quality to the worship space, there is now a modest rise in the altar area. This was the "stage". The musicians walked up from the lobby area in the back to take the stage. 

     The concert began with Beethoven's String Quartet No. 1 in F major, Op. 18, No. 1. Now, I have actually worked on this quartet with the Fauve Five, but that is another story. Before playing Bartok's String Quartet No. 3, the cellist, Thomas Kraines* gave us a little back story. He explained that Bartok's first three quartets are considered "difficult." The harmonies were different for their time and perhaps, still so.  But, the listener can always hear the folk melodies, on which the composition is structured, by listening to the first violin. I kept that in mind as the four beautiful musicians began. I was listening for what had prompted Dr. Wagner to hold Bartok in such high regard. The music is highly textured. There are bits of folklife emerging, but also a surround of dissonance, almost. Ah, there it is. Bartok is the composer for the church of my youth. The Unitarians (as I thought of us) wanted to hang their faith on an easy yoke of tradition and ritual (folk tunes) and all around would be individual voices, which are uniquely harmonious in their sense of freedom. This reminds me of a quip I used to make about the U-U church: most people believe that their faith is the only true one, Unitarians believe that they alone, as individuals,  are correct. I learned something important at this concert. It is not the individual, it is a community of individuals, happy to be together in this warm, but slightly wild world, feeling free, but so contentedly tethered to the common melody. 

The view outside of the decagonal

      Thank you to the Daedalus Quartet for such a satisfying concert. Every member was excellent in their performance and uniquely beautiful (like Unitarians!) What a warm presence on a cold afternoon. Loveliness abounded both inside and out. The setting and the music were perfect!

* David "googled" Thomas Kraines and learned that both his parents are mathematicians. His father is an Algebraic Topologist (Emeritus) as is David.

A Generous Patriotism

Mary Alice Klingensmith--a hopeful young citizen

This past Halloween we were blessed with an abundance of Trick-or-Treaters. Within thirty minutes, we knew we would have to increase provisions, so I made a run to the closest Kroger. This was on foot because the roads were clogged with happy young people and their families. Walking back, I passed through a narrow parking lot by apartments and I heard musical spoken language. This gave me a little thrill. How much my everyday world has changed! I can walk to the local store, walk in my neighborhood and hear languages from all over the world.
     When I got back home, I spelled David at the Treat-giving post. I was struck by the whole-ness and wholesomeness of the scene. There were girls with long thick braids and and girls with narrow braids. There were enthusiastic boys in all kinds of costumes. Interestingly, there were a lot of girls dressed as fairies. Most of the children were accompanied by what seemed to be the whole family. Happiness, politeness and a generous spirit filled the evening air. It was wonderful.
     When I was a Trick-or-Treater, it was a pretty different scene. We went out with friends for hours on end covering acres and acres of neighborhood. There was a lot of diversity in the costuming (as we were just as likely to have made our costumes ourselves) and not so much in the inhabitants of those costumes or the houses we visited. Our schools were pretty similar, mostly white, mostly middle-class (though class distinctions weren't all that obvious--so I'm guessing.)
      This homogenous quality did not have nearly the impact that Mrs. Preston's elementary school music  class had on me. We sang "Give me your tired, your poor" and "No man is an island" along with "Beyond the blue horizon." If I have been indoctrinated, it is here. I guess music has that effect on me. I was perfectly happy reciting the Pledge of Allegiance as well, but the idealism of a generous patriotism espoused by those songs is embedded in me.
     An incident that is ricocheting across the internet right now makes me think about my mother (whose birthday is today). My mother grew up in small-town West Virginia. It is true that is was a small college town (now University!).  My grandfather was principal of the high school, too. Perhaps it is obvious that education was important in the family. My mother studied very hard and received full scholarship to Radcliffe College from Pepsi Cola.  Studying anthropology was extremely eye-opening to MA. In her small hometown, she had faithfully (and with conviction) attended the Methodist church. Opening up to the world of faith and different cultures was an awesome experience for her. My father was similarly "opened-up" and my parents joined the Unitarian-Universalist church. I am certain that this experience allowed, and allows me to be less fearful of  the"other" and change, as the U-U church, along with a growing University of Kentucky attracted folks from around the world and of different faiths and cultures.
      I do not believe that everyone must hold my kind of patriotism.  I do believe that I come by my patriotism honestly and I remain enthusiastic about what my country means to me. I am grateful for this gift of generous patriotism.

yes...

Maybe not YES! but yes...

Of course, I was hoping for a "YES!" result from the presidential election. A hopeful day morphed into a state of stunned disbelief. But some remarkable and surprising outcomes have taken place. These actually started before election day. Five days prior to that day, our Clinton/Kaine sign was stolen from our yard. We were preparing to head out of town to attend David's college reunion. It was also David's birthday and he was heading up the stewardship committee at church--the dinner was that evening. In other words, there wasn't much time.

the original sketch

    A first move was to post on Facebook (naturally) to announce the theft and threaten to re-engage my old fashion illustration skills to make a pantsuit sign. Before I could be egged on by anyone, I had whipped up a quick sketch and posted it with my sign theft posting.
     A few days before, my neighbor Hilary included me in the Pantsuit Nation group. I thought that maybe I should post the sketch there, too. What happened was pretty amazing. Right before me eyes I could see a response. "Likes" were coming fast and furious. I'm sure this is my one little brush with popularity. What I liked even more than this exciting experience was that people were taking the image and adding their own twists and combining it with campaign imagery. My graphic design skills are not that great. (I work with pastels and mixed media. I have a messy aesthetic!) Very fortuitously, a young graphic designer with all the requisite tech skills came along and created a very affirmative image.

Luke Francis's graphic design using the YES! sketch

     So all this was exciting in a head-rushy kind of way. Then the election happened and it became apparent that t-shirts, mugs and pins were not in the cards. However, within 12 hours of Trump winning via the Electoral College numbers, a very interesting thing started happening.  My niece-in-law, a university chaplain, posted the following:
     "If you are a minority and you feel scared, please know we stand by you and will continue to do so, no matter what comes."
Facebook began filling with outlets for people to focus on serving and helping others. A friend invited me to join a Facebook page "100 Acts Against Hate" where people are encouraged to share how they are working to heal and alleviate suffering in our country. This was happening by mid-day on November 9th! What a contrast to Mitch McConnell's response to President Obama's election: that he would work to make our President a one-term president.  McConnell set the unproductive tone for 8 years. What a squandering of potential! But, I am here to say "yes" not "no"...
     It turns out that the pantsuit is a potent symbol for a hibernating population. The secret Facebook page is developing in a grassroots fashion. This gives me the hope to say "yes..." to a long haul effort to make our communities work for all people and for the whole world. Even if we had received the desired "YES!" we would still have to bring along the "yes..." response. Perhaps now it is easier to do that.

"The World Will be Saved by Beauty"

In just the last few days, I have received multiple reminders of the importance of beauty in our lives. Even today, with the announcement of the winners of the Nobel prize in Physics, there were multiple descriptors of the "beauty" of the discovery of exotic topological matter. In a column today, David Brooks speaks of a "lovely" society. An exhibit of engravings by Fritz Eichenberg at my church in Paris, KY gave me the chance to learn more about The Catholic Worker movement and Dorothy Day. A statement about the work of Eichenberg ends with a quote from Dostoevsky, "The world will be saved by beauty." 

Each of these examples on the surface might not be typical subjects for beauty. Physics and mathematics are often a source of fear and loathing. Lately we are opining about society with scornful words and divisive rhetoric. And working to feed and care for the poverty-stricken does not immediately bring to mind beauty. 

How is beauty connected to physics and society? How can beauty save the world? Seeing beauty and appreciating beauty requires that we keep our eyes, minds and hearts open. The answers are not set in black and white concrete and not readily apparent on the surface. The beauty answer demands a closer look, a deeper understanding. In other words, we must learn to appreciate beauty. We can not appreciate beauty without learning. We must also have perspective. 

I have been thinking about this a lot lately because of a project in my hometown of Lexington, KY. It was a tattoo project where folks took words from a poem by Frank X Walker entitled Love Letta to d Worl'.  A phrase from that poem has been popping up regularly around town, "unlearn fear and hate." This is a good sentiment, but how do we unlearn anything? There is only one way, by learning something new that dispels the old learning. We have to learn the lessons on harmony. This is what I learn from the poem. In fact, Frank X Walker's poem is such an all-encompassing and wondrous answer to what I am trying to say here that I will just suggest that you read his poem. He takes in the whole world and loves it thoroughly.  I believe his poem can save the world.

A Playful Interlude

Our haul from the Open Yourself to Play Art Workshop

In my last blog I wrote about building Redbud--the Kentucky Colors Harp. For five weeks I took over David's woodworking space, so I was delighted when the tables could be turned and David would invade 'my' territory: he said that he would be interested in attending an art workshop! Mind you, the actual 'terre' has significant David connections as the location of the workshop was St. Mary's Sewanee and David graduated from Sewanee a few years ago. The Ayres Center for Spiritual Development offers programs and retreats that refresh the soul. I was attracted to Lendon Noe's Open Yourself to Play Art Workshop. We were invited to return to art making for pure pleasure, playing and recreating ourselves. After a very serious gathering of art materials (the only thing I forgot was the pencils!) we set off for Sewanee and our renewal.

Lendon Noe inspires us with the art of Helen Frankenthaler

The first night, we practiced productivity with abandon, creating 3 or 4 (or 5?!) backdrops for the next day's work. I discovered that I really like to paint with my fingers and David particularly took to blowing ink around. All this activity, though in the evening and Central Time was invigorating. Could the work ethic for play carry over upon my return to the studio?
     We got up in the morning, took walks and had a fine breakfast (we were well-fed) and then got to work. We commenced to layer, mask and scrape; cut and glue. We outlined our hands. We wrote our names. We put tiny symbols all the way around and remembered about the sheer joy of making marks and cutting things up. In fact, I am getting a bit itchy right now, wanting to slam shut the laptop and start slapping around some paint!

     
After the afternoon session and before a wonderful Italian supper, I headed for the woods. This sylvan setting was conveniently located just below the bluffs where we playfully labored. The sun was slanting into the side of the mountain in a rosy fashion. I could imagine the scene in a month's time turning rustic with the autumn leaves. How could this be recreated on paper with my new favorite media combination: Pelikan opaque watercolors and Neocolor II crayons?

Lendon Noe finds the Blobimals and shows us how to find ours in our under-blob paintings

One playful idea lead to intriguing imagery. Lendon Noe introduced us to Carla Sonheim's Blobimals. We prepared our papers by putting down several watercolor blobs with tangents radiating out from them (not knowing that they would become blobimals! David discovered a shape that he particularly liked--and it was not an inverted donut. Very impressively, he began repeating this shape over and over, like a motif.

Can you see David's recurring motif?

My blobs were part of the same story. A carnivorous story, apparently, since there are meatball swans in the mix.

Cat Dreams

Sunday opened with a walk through the woods with my Beloved (David) an excellent breakfast which included hash brown potatoes with kale and quinoa. After that supreme nourishment, we had just enough time to make little gifts for each other. Tiny art is definitely something to take forward in my art making.
     Lendon gave each participant a parting challenge. David's was to: 1) Draw your favorite number 2) and fill it with imaginative detail 3) while listening to Rap music 4) Adding dark and light.  Mine was to: 1)Draw or paint what's up in the sky (look up!) 2. with your friend's favorite medium (that would be numbers, wouldn't it?) 3) while listening to nature music (or Adele) 4. Making red the dominant color. I know folks that have taken my workshops or classes will get a little laugh out of no. 4!
     David and I drove home with refreshed souls ready for what might meet us ahead. That turned out to be a couple of traffic jellies on the way. Still, a week later, there is invigoration and inspiration for new paths! Thank you, Lendon Noe and St. Mary's Sewanee!

Redbud--the Kentucky Colors Harp

A couple of years ago, I was thinking about a new chapter in life and I set my heart on having a green harp. That was not possible at that time and so I ordered a lovely harp, custom-made across the Ohio River in Sunrise, Indiana, and enrolled in a therapy harp program (Therapy Harp Training Program, THTP.)  I started playing harp at the local hospice care center and delved into the THTP material. My idea of what I wanted to do and create slowly came into focus.  People have a curiosity about my harp and they all have unique ways of relating to the music. It seems so appropriate to have a "local" harp. Could it be even more local and tailored to the music making that is called for?

The dream of building my own harp began to percolate, along with the desire to have a slightly smaller harp that was still a floor harp. Was this possible? The answer arrived this summer in the mail. It was a flyer from Musicmakers featuring the "Jolie" harp. It was such a pretty design and simple and the size and range were just right.  So I bit and bought the kit. It arrived within 3 days!

Being true to Kentucky, with a redbud branch design
on the soundboard

Part of my motivation was to have a harp that reflected the "place" of Kentucky. To me, warm cedar green and redbud violet are the true colors of Kentucky. I've written about this (please see Kentucky's True Colors, 3/27/12.)  The design on the soundboard would not be cherry blossoms or Celtic knots. It would be the simple sight of tiny, bombastic redbud blossoms and heart-shaped leaves.

"Clamping" the soundbox with bungee cords. The magic flyer on display

Painting the soundboard was the easy part. Now there was actual woodworking to be done. I now kind of know how to use a cordless drill, wood glue and a sand block--especially the sand block.

Blue masking tape holds the trim on during drying

The beveled edges of the trim had to be trimmed down to fit exactly in the corners. David had a handy little Japanese saw that worked perfectly. The trim goes over the hundred little brad nails that secure the soundboard to the soundbox. The tension of 32 strings on the soundboard will be mighty!

Neck and Pillar attached

Of course, most of the work was accomplished by the master craftspeople at Musicmakers. I am wondering how they cut out the pieces such as the neck and pillar. Screws are used to solidly bring these two together. Then we hide the evidence with little wooden plugs. The Japanese saw came in handy again to trim off the extra. 

The shoulder block and neck

Now comes the tricky--but also artistic--part. It probably would help to be a sculptor. The two parts must fit together, but apparently not absolutely. This was a leap of faith. Fortunately, the folks at Musicmakers were happy to calm me down.  My experience with making things and cutting into expensive fabrics, being willing to see and believe really helped, too. But definitely, the advice to take it one step at a time was priceless. Thank you, Musicmakers!

Sanded down and pegged!

This was very satisfying; to sand this down and shape the shoulder to support the neck.  I even had to do a bit of ad-libbing: using leftovers from the wood plugs to cover the screws on the shoulder block. 

Going green in the backyard

To have Kentucky colors on my harp, I wanted a warm cedar green to be hugging the soundboard. I felt a bit guilty because the cherry wood was quite pretty. A simple varnish would have been lovely. But, now was my chance to have my Kentucky colors harp and I could not wimp out! My stain job was not perfect. For example, the stain (Minwax Emerald) was reluctant to leave the tube, but when it did, it splattered on the pavers. I had to spray the pavers off and it splashed up on the soundbox. Oops. I thought it had dried, but the pattern of the spatters show up in the stain job. But, the rustic finish, with the ruddy cherry wood showing through, is quite a bit like Eastern Red Cedar.  Following were layers of varnish and lots of drying time.

Finished, before stringing

I allowed about a week for varnishing, sanding and drying. The varnish was an easy wipe-on that I was able to order from Musicmakers. I figured they would know which finish was best for a harp! Then I put the harp together. Musicmakers has a very clever design that allows the neck and pillar to be removed for shipping or refinishing. This engineering does mean that at this point, the harp is a bit wobbly. Will it come together and be solid?

All strung and keeping Rossignol company

Yes! It all came together and now I am tuning and tuning, bringing Redbud to a stable state so she can go out and bring comfort to my fellow Kentuckians.

Visions Differing

One Day Wonder Workshop at MS Rezny Studio/Gallery

We are deep in the season of opinions--loudly voiced opinions--and it is wearying. That is why it is good to remember that, in truth, we all have different opinions. We all see the world differently. We can't help it, because we see the world through our own eyes and the filter of our own experiences. The good news is that these views can be beautiful.

This was illustrated for me just this weekend when I taught a "One Day Wonder Workshop".  During these workshops, I extol the virtues of combining media such as watercolor and pastel. They have complementary characteristics (the watercolor goes wherever the water flows and pastel brings out the surface pattern of the support). Our first exercise is to consider what we want to say with our painting, what attracts us to our selected subject. Then we figure out how best to bring out our message. There were four participants and each had a different vision to declare. Let's have a look!

Mark paints hay bales surrounded by the mountains of North Carolina

Mark drove over from North Carolina to take the workshop. He showed us images of hay bales standing in the fields and spoke of how beautiful it was to come upon the sight, being quite specific and curious about how the light played upon the cylindrical bales. The way he spoke about the quality of light on the mountains at different times of day let us know about Mark's sense of place. Mark is also a furniture maker and his Windsor chairs, with their supportive vertical rods are reflected in the tractor tracks in the field. A quality of comfort in the gentle curves of his chairs is shared with his home landscape. Amazingly, Mark said this was his first painting.

Meg paints the winter bleached wood and grasses of coastal South Carolina

Meg is a friend and a font of knowledge! In fact, she looked up for us how to hold an image on our iPads and iPhones. She brought in a selection of images and this one particularly lent itself to watercolor and pastel. The aesthetic calls to mind Meg's love for Asian art: it was asymmetrical and had a certain sparse quality. While we were working, Meg told us about an art instructor who came to her house and evaluated her collection according to what makes art successful. One factor is that images should be 1:2 in dark versus light areas, or vice versa.  Interesting that Meg selected an image with a dramatic value contrast. It also features her favored indigos and aquas.

Jan paints a bright field-scape with her nephew's barn home in the backdrop

Jan has a very creative family and she is not afraid to have an adventure. In fact, her everyday world is filled with the wonders of dolls and toys--she runs a Doll & Toy Museum! The image she chose was also quite conducive to rendition in watercolor and pastel, looking at all the texture in the foreground. I had suggested for those with skies in their images, that they start there first and Jan quickly created a magical and lively sky. The task was to extend that liveliness throughout the composition. This was not easy as there were disparate elements to represent. The texture and movement of the Goldenrod and Queen Anne's Lace took some special thought. Jan persisted and succeeded in a joyful creation.

Deborah paints a donkey with a foggy backdrop

Deborah has taken multiple classes and workshops with me. Each time, she has painted something a little different and it is always remarkably effective. Her deep appreciation for beauty in all kinds of settings has led her to adventures around the world and close to home. Just the previous weekend, she had been to a special Jane Austen festival in Louisville, KY. So she is open to new experiences. She spotted this image on Facebook--and your's truly had posted it! A very distinctive donkey appeared through the Nicholas County fog. The challenge here (which Deborah is always ready to take) is rendering a very nuanced backdrop which conceals, yet also describes the distant landscape. Deborah accomplished this brilliantly. I believe she was calling this "Gloomy Sunday"!

What joy to spend some time appreciating how we see things differently. All this took place in the setting of "Firmly Rooted 2016" the juried show now on display at MS Rezny Studio/Gallery. We enjoyed working in the midst of all these other visions. Come on over and have a look!

Firmly Rooted 2016 up through August 20, 2016
MS Rezny Studio/Gallery, 903 Manchester Street, Lexington, KY
Tuesdays - Fridays 11 am - 4 pm, Saturdays 1 - 4 pm

Blessed Perception

Universal Color, 12 x 12", watercolor/pastel*

I listened to a fascinating Interfaith Voices program. The discussion was on near death experiences. The descriptions were compelling and appealing. The close proximity to death had the feel of a rich hyper-awareness. Later, reflecting on what I heard, I noticed that it was mostly about perception. Perhaps this was to make the case for an entity existing beyond the physical body. Certainly, the observations made while the brain was not functioning were extensive and accurate; also much more thorough than might be expected by a fully functioning, alert person. A woman spoke of her hearing and vision being so much more acute than usual. What I didn't hear about was judgment. Kind of funny for something we relate as being the "judgment day"! Perhaps we need to be more concerned with perception than judgment. Might this bring more peace to ourselves and the world?

  

Okay, now I am going to pivot to a sell: This is your invitation to take a day to revel in perception. A big part of my One Day Wonder Workshops involves consciously using our objective and subjective perceptions to create what we want to create. Interested? Here is the information:

One Day Wonder Workshop: Experimenting with Watercolor and Pastel

Saturday, July 23, 2016

10:30 am - 3 pm

MS Rezny Studio/Gallery

903 Manchester Street, Distillery District, Lexington, KY  40508

$75, this will include all the art materials. Just bring your own reference photos and or ideas

Limit 10 persons

To sign up, email: mail@msrezny.com or kathyreesjohnson@gmail.com

* I made this painting about a decade ago. There was a discovery of "the color of the universe" which was described as your grandmother's kitchen aqua. I made this painting inspired by the finding, but then the scientists realized their calculations had been off, and the universal color was actually beige. Ah, well... Surely when we are in our world beyond, we will see all the colors in the universe!

Accidental Inspiration

Mother, Mother Are You There? 7 x 5", mixed media 

I've been thinking about my recent affinity for combining musical and visual elements in creating. While on a walk, I struck upon the possible roots of  this inspiration. When I was about ten years old, my mother returned to college so that she could be certified to teach elementary school. Part of the curriculum included a cultural arts class that required attending performances (and I am just now flashing to students requesting programs to prove that they have attending concerts, etc.) For some reason, I was the kid who accompanied my mother. Though the way that I came to attend these performances was serendipitous, the experiences are burnished into my inner being. I have remembered and referenced the music and the images throughout my life. Mind you, I didn't immediately retain such information as the name of the opera or ballet, but rather images and fragments of music. In one of the performances, a young woman sings, "Mother, Mother, are you there?" She is a figure bathed in a cool blue light surrounded by darkness. I retained this single line for several decades before learning from my church's music director and font of knowledge, that it is from Gian-Carlo Menotti's The Medium. I purchase a recording and listening now, decades later, I can see why I was haunted by the music. My memory of that line is fairly accurate, no doubt because of this haunting quality and the recurring call.

Fire Forest, 9 x 12", mixed media

A second vivid experience involves another dark scene with a bright accent (do you suppose this is why I wound up with an Art History degree--I like being in darkened rooms with illuminated images?) The stage is almost completely black and there is a flaming red figure flitting across, left to right. You probably know that I was at a performance of The Firebird, but it was some time later, probably at another performance that I recognized what I saw as a child.

I imagine we also went to art exhibits and attended concerts to fulfill the requirements of my mother's course, but it is the events where strong visuals and haunting music were united that my imagination and memory become particularly engaged.  I love the richness and the feeling of being fully immersed in the experience. There is a Part II to this story and I'll save that for another day. 

In the Night Garden

In the Night Garden, 12 x 12", mixed media

I requested a digital audio recorder for my birthday this year, and I received it! The wish came to me as I have been creating small paintings illustrating how the seven (most famous, Western) modes connect with the seven chakras, or energy centers in the body. Last year I made a series of small paintings about these seven musical modes. They were part of my Recollection show last summer. At times during the exhibit's tenure, I would take my harp down to the MS Rezny Studio/Gallery and perform little impromptu mode renditions. Something clicked and I began to develop musical thoughts as I created new paintings.

This has opened new avenues for paintings as well. It works both ways. I think about music and paintings appear in my mind's eye. I was enchanted by the scene, In the Night Garden as we were returning to Pineapple Hill Inn Bed & Breakfast after a splendid dinner. It was a gentle night and the blue was so soft; the red umbrellas bright accents. The heron statuary stood guard over the burbling koi pond. I knew I wanted to make a painting and I wanted to make music, too.

I looked around for a support to make a painting; a painting more inspired by feeling than truthiness. Bending down to check on my prepared boards (watercolor paper affixed to 1/4" birch plywood) I spotted a board which had been "deckled" by our first dog, Carly. I think she liked the clay-based wallpaper paste that I use to attach the paper. Around two edges, there was a half-inch to inch gap in the paper.  I decided to experiment and brushed gesso on the bare board. Since working with children on an art project earlier this year, I have been keen on Cray-Pas Junior Artist Oil Pastels. I started coloring in my image with those, to use as a resist to layers of watercolor. I worked back and forth between the Cray-Pas and the watercolor, adding layers of watercolor as needed to bring a velvety darkness to the scene. I discovered that the watercolor and Cray-Pas would not sufficiently cover the gessoed areas, so the big guns were called in: I used Sennelier oil pastels generously, as it turned out, over the whole painting. I am a believer in using what is necessary to bring about what I envision. This worked.
   
After I finished the painting, I propped it up and started playing on the harp, letting the imagery inspire my music. There is a link to the music below if you would like to have a listen.




   





 In the Night Garden on SoundCloud

...and Back to Order

Danny's Trees, 24 x 20", watercolor and pastel on paper

So, you have seen the Fine Mess (4-16-16) and now I will show you how she cleans up. This is a very satisfying process, like polishing up a piece of furniture that has been collecting dust for ages (just a week in my household, with Maddie-the-Dog.) I use the underlying layer to provide a rich and realistic layering of life, like the very soil that grows grass, trees and us! In a scene such as this, with a lot of sky which is screened by banks of trees, I like to start using pastel to bring to life the clouds and to establish the placement of the trees in the fore and back grounds. This exercise is a real push and pull process--I love it! The sky is stroked on boldly. The trees then begin to speak up. Back and forth, back and forth. I stop to evaluate: Is this working? Is it true to the scene?
    And what exactly is this scene? This painting has been requested by a friend. He became enchanted by a stand of trees that he passed on daily runs and while working out at his local recreation center. The enchantment was greatest in the winter, when surprising colors would pop out at him. My friend knew that I was likewise attracted to these glowing winter colors. This adds another layer to the pushing and pulling: my friend's vision, my vision, watercolor and pastel. Then, over all that add the perception of what is currently on the paper and what is the accumulated vision we want.
    Each element has its say. Each element is putting its best foot forward, unabashedly. Let that happen! Then be daring and go ahead and let that next element shine--go ahead, see what happens then. Stop, look and listen to your intuition. Repeat and repeat. Let what you see now tell you what to do next.

A Fine Mess

Underpainting set-up

My favorite media for creating art are watercolor and pastel. I start with a rich underpainting in watercolor. My goal is to create an abundance of texture and "chaos" to the scene. Then I can use pastel to bring some "order" to the image. I like to use leftover palettes from my classes. They usually have the perfect colors for this rich layer. I would call this a fine mess.
    My preference is for a certain amount of wildness to keep things exciting and to open up possibilities. Then, I require a certain amount of order to keep danger at bay. Perhaps it is because we are deep in the political season, but this reminds me of what I like about America. It is Earth's biggest political experiment. People come from all over, bringing their perfect colors and ideas to the table, creating new scenes with a rich texture. Yet, they come because they have embraced the ideals of America, a land of opportunity and freedom with a strong sense of community. The perfect amount of government works like the pastel. It makes use of all the resources that the people bring and enhances those resources to create the bigger picture. It also smooths over rough spots to protect individuals and communities. This approach requires a certain amount of faith that good will emerge and flexibility to be willing to do what is needed to create what is desired.
    Down with rigid techniques and dogma! Ahhh, I feel better now! Thank you!
   

Remnants and Recreation

Discarded painting with demonstration limb--the perfect start to a painting

I have been working with some young people at St. Peter's Episcopal Church in Paris, KY. We have been making images of Easter to adorn the church. It has been an exhilarating experience as the young artists are fearless and quite prolific. They have high standards, too, and I found a couple of starts in the trash can. They were too tempting to pass up! Meanwhile, Dawn was interested in making a painting of spring boughs and so I made a little demonstration for her--how to use the paint brush boldly to make that branch. The resulting combination sang out to me. I am here! Finish me!

Adding more oil pastel and then the backwash in watercolor  

So I brought her home and started to pile on. First, I was thinking of redbuds--they are already budding out here in Kentucky.  I had a "warmed up" fuchsia oil pastel. Then I slopped in the background wash, in Himalayan salt pink (thank you, Meg!) I let that dry overnight.
     By the next morning, I knew that the strokes of the original artist (I will need to find out who this is!) had more of a cherry blossom sensibility. I must correct my trajectory. Also, I began to think of the poem, Loveliest of Trees, by A. E. Hausman. It is a poem of Eastertide, so appropriate. But, it has additional meaning for me. When I came home from the hospital with our first child, I remember sitting with him and listening to Prairie Home Companion. Garrison Keillor recited Loveliest of Trees, though it was January. I had this realization that this little baby I held in my arms, who just arrived, one day he would die. Both events are unutterably sacred. New life and death are so bound together in Easter.

The cherry tree in bloom

Loveliest of Trees by A. E. Housman

LOVELIEST of trees, the cherry now
is hung with bloom along the bough,
and stands about the woodland ride
wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,
twenty will not come again,
and take from seventy springs a score,
it only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom
fifty springs are little room,
about the woodlands I will go
to see the cherry hung with snow.

      Thank you for all the beauty; both well known and dismissed. It is all there for our pleasure. Thank you for children giving us fresh insights and for all those who wish to create and revitalize a teacher's inspiration. Thank you for this season of new life!

Spring Creation

Let's Play: back and forth with oil pastel and watercolor

In the upcoming Saturdays I will have the new experience of working with young people to create images of Easter. Their ages range from 7 to 17+. We are going to be thinking about some of my favorite subjects: creating and perceiving; and how those two things are intertwined.
      I've been dwelling in this milieu already because every Lent I read The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett.  The story of Mary Lennox's and Colin Craven's transformation gives me the annual conviction to throw off the clogging mantle of old, crippling and wrong-headed ideas and habits. Incrementally, I am nudged into seeing the world afresh. It is also an excellent narrative about perception, objective and subjective and how we can begin to see things more clearly and completely.

This change is not instant or "cheap". It is slow and deep. Often, it happens in a hidden fashion, not to be seen until the life force pushes to the surface, like daffodil bulbs in Spring.

Lenten Growth, 10 x 8", oil pastel and watercolor

   We will be working with watercolor and oil pastel, a medium that I have not used extensively. So, I will be playing and experimenting, too. Spring!

My hope is that through the creation of our Easter images, these young people will feel the beauty of seeing the world clearly and also the enchantment and poetry of their own particular vision.  Only a start is possible, of course, with our small project. Still, I am looking forward to seeing their world in Spring.

An Organizational Sweet Spot for Creativity

At the moment, there seems to be a lively discussion about whether 'tis nobler to be thoroughly organized or authentically messy.  Perhaps this has been brought about by the publication of Marie Kondo's new book on "tidying up" and a little push back is in order. (pardon the pun) In any event, the idea of order and chaos is something much on my mind. We are in the process of condensing two households into one and so, if we want to actually be able to move in the remaining domicile, we are going to have to let go of a fair amount of stuff.  Right now, I am going through things in the village house to see what can go to make room for things from the lake house.  Mostly, I am working in my workspace and there are some things that don't fit neatly into the going to Goodwill pile, for example, a sheet of mahogany veneer.

       We are also into February and I decided maybe it was time to take down the little Christmas tree that had been serving as a sort of nightlight.  To replace this source of illumination, I thought of the valentine star that I just ran across in the attic. Up it went. Interesting...but too bright and too red (though in the photo it looks pretty good--gentler.)

      You probably know where this is going. I am trying to think of how to process all this stuff and I have a need for a little night illumination that doesn't set my teeth on edge. I could make a new "shade" for the light in the star. I could use the mahogany veneer, and I have all kinds of materials lying around waiting to be chosen for productivity.  I sang that chant, "All I need is here..." and it was true: board, paint, parchment paper and some handmade paper in a favorite shade of green. I happily spent the day creating our new lamp in my new space. The windows looking out to the front allowed me to see the mail carrier coming up the walk with a new book--A Perfect Mess. And I had already learned the lesson. Maybe. Is there room for another book?

p.s. It occurs to me that my comfort zone for order in life is exactly like my preferred aesthetic for creating art. I write about this in my blog statement.