If you are interested in being sketched for this mural, leave me a comment here or contact me on Facebook.
Mennello Museum
I went to the Mennello Museum for a quick meeting with Genevieve Bernard about a possible mural outside the building. We met in Kim Robinson’s office. Her office window looks straight out at the blank wall. Executive Director, Frank Holt, wanted to be sure the final image was cohesive. The proposed wall is 48 feet wide by seven feet high. Next week I will be meeting students who will help with brainstorming for ideas. Apparently there is a competition which will help pick which high school students can help me out with the actual painting of the mural. Details are still being worked out. My challenge is to maintain my usual spontaneous style so the mural looks like a sketch done on location. The sun beats down on the wall which waits for inspiration to strike so it can fulfill it’s potential.
When I entered the museum it was obvious that they were taking down the 1934 New Deal show and putting up a new show. The New Deal show featured paintings from the Smithsonian collection. The new deal program lasted for a very short time in 1934 and it encouraged artists to portray the American scene. Many of the paintings depicted the American dream for a brighter future. As these idealistic visions were crated away, new art went up from local Florida artists. In a side gallery paintings by Ron Van Sweringen were being hung. These paintings looked like Jackson Pollack drip paintings. The difference being that Pollack spread his canvases on the floor letting the paint drip down. Ron placed his canvases on a wall and then threw the paint at it. He referred to his painting method as “Astroism.”
After the meeting I decided to sketch as the new exhibit, called “Fla-Art,” was installed. A worker stenciled up the title of the show above the reception desk. The first new work to go up was of a man pushing aside a curtain and gazing out at the viewer. It has an ominous weight to it. Most of the other work was still from the New Deal. A miner drilled for coal, men pushed large blocks of ice in an ice house, men marched through a field to work.
As I sketched a young woman asked the receptionist about renting the museum for a wedding. She was given brochures and suggestions. Several artists walked in with canvases. I was impressed by some of the work waiting to be hung. The Fla-Art show is opening May 13th from 6-8pm. Members get in free and non-members pay $5. There will be a cash bar. The Florida Artists show will be on display through September 25th 2011.
Evenings with the Director. On Tuesdays 6/14, 7/12, 8/9, 9/13, 6pm experience an evening with museum Director Frank Holt. The walk is included in general admission. Reservations required. Call (407) 246.4278
Family Days are on Sundays, 6/12, 7/10, 8/14, 9/11 starting at 12:30pm with family arts and crafts activities and a children’s workshop at 1pm. At 2pm there is a FREE guided tour.
Degas Sculptures at Tampa Museum of Art
Chere Force put out an invitation for artists to join her on a field trip to see the Degas Sculptures at the Tampa Museum of Art. I knew I would want to sketch, and I considered bringing my digital tablet. I left it at home since I didn’t want to catch a guards’ attention. Chere and her husband Rory picked me up in their minivan and we headed west to get to the museum right as it opened. The Tampa Museum is part of a gorgeous riverside complex. There were several school buses of school children unloading as we arrived. Thankfully there is a children’s museum that the screaming hoard disappeared into. Curtis Hixon Park right next to the museum is a fabulous open public park with colorful terraced gardens. Across the river shiny metallic minarets adorned a building constructed in the 1800s as a hotel and it is now part of the University of Tampa.
The Museum is a modern block of a building that is covered in a grid of circular holes punched in sheet metal. At night the building lights up like a phosphorescent sea creature thanks to thousands of light diodes. The largely empty ground floor houses the gift shop and cafe while all the art is up on the second floor. Chere explained that design allowed for any storm surge from a hurricane to only damage the empty ground floor.
I branched off and explored the Degas sculptures on my own. On the walls there were some charcoal and pastel drawings that resembled poses from some of the sculptures. Degas worked on these small wax and clay pieces to help him visualize the fluid gestures he incorporated into his paintings and drawings. They were intended as studies, not finished works of art. When Degas died, his family arranged for 22 sets of bronzes to be made from all these studies while keeping the originals intact. All of the works in the exhibit were bronzes. Cards on the walls described how Degas was influenced by the classic sculptures he studied for three years in Rome and Florence.
Once I saw all the sculptures I started to experience the gestural work by sketching. Something about the way he explored form started to make sense to me. As my lines danced in around and through his sculptures, I started seeing the viewers looking at the art in the same light. The Little Dancer stood vigil in the middle of the room. Having the opportunity to study his art in person was inspiring. As I was finishing up my sketch a museum guard approached me. He asked what medium I was using. My stomach tightened and I said, “watercolor.” Thinking to myself, “It is harmless, really, it washes right out with water!” He said, “You can only use a pencil to sketch in here.” I didn’t argue. I just put my little kit away. I imagined the young Degas sketching sculptures in Italy and being told to stop.
In the next room was modern art. In the center of the gallery was an installation that had two windows set up in a false wall. Between and inside the windows rain was pouring down with the occasional lightning flash, and the recorded rumbling of thunder. I had to wonder if it just might leak, potentially damaging the other art in the room. It was pretty far from the Degas bronzes. They were safe from any further artistic scrutiny.
How to Look at Renaissance Art
Karen Love Blumenthal invited me to attend a fun interactive talk about how to look at Renaissance Art at the Cornell Fine Arts Museum on the Rollins College Campus. The workshop was conducted by her husband Arthur Blumenthal the Director Emeritus of the museum. He began his talk by outlining the five steps that are needed to truly look at a work of art.
1. Become fully present and put aside your opinions. Usually when we enter a gallery, we immediately say, “Oh, I like this painting or I can’t stand that painting.” He insisted we curb such opinions until we fully studied the art.
2. Move into the objects “Looking Space” and move around the object while looking. At this point the first impression can be stated.
3. Determine the medium used.
4. Observe and describe the art in meticulous detail offering subject matter, composition, the light source. It is important to describe the art as if no one else had ever seen it.
5. Restate or sum up the main points or total impact.
The 20 or so patrons were then split up into groups and each group was assigned a Renaissance work of art to study. One person from each group was then given the task of describing the art using the five rules of observation. It was fascinating listening to people describe the art. Each person brought their own viewpoints and background into the process. One man truly didn’t like the portrait he was asked to discuss but in the end, Arthur let him know it was a rare Tintoretto portrait and probably the most valuable painting in the collection. It was good that such information did not distort the patrons’ view.
Lunch served at a long table in the front gallery. The scene was reminiscent of Leonardo DaVinci’s Last Supper. The man seated next to me let me know that he spends the five summer months out of each year living on an island in Maine. When we got back to the Renaissance gallery, he had to describe a complex painting of Noah’s Arc. He described the chaotic collection of animals and when he backed up, he was able to see the overall flow of the piece. Arthur went on to describe the umber under painting which was allowed to show through in spots.
Renaissance came from the Italian word rinascita meaning “Rebirth.” This rebirth came about as ancient Roman and Greek statues were being discovered. Michelangelo sculpted amazing forgeries early in his career. There was an astonishing confluence of artistic genius in that era. There was also powerful banking families like the Medici who appreciated and paid for art. Ahhh… Those were the days. Of course there was also the plague, inquisition and plenty of wars, but that is a small price to pay.
txt at the Telephone Museum
As part of ArtsFest, Brian Feldman held a performance of “txt” at the Telephone Museum in Maitland (221 West Packwood Avenue). The very first time I sketched Feldman, he was performing “txt” at the Kerouac House. Brian specifically grew his beard back for this one performance. I found my vantage point in the front row before anyone else arrived. I also set up my video camera which recorded the performance from the back of the room next to a telephone booth. Ancient phones loomed above Feldman’s head and photos of switchboard operators were on the walls. There were perhaps thirty or so folding chairs set up in front of the large oak desk where he sat.
The idea of “txt” is that the audience supplies every line of dialogue that is spoken. Fifty protected Twitter accounts are set up so that each audience member can send a tweet directly to Brian’s show account, all of which are redirected to his phone thus keeping every entry completely private. Before the performance space was opened, Feldman crawled under the desk to wait for his entrance. When the fifteen or so people were seated, he crawled back out and sat in the leather chair causing laughter.
The young couple across from me immediately started tapping on their phones. The girl resembled actress Julianne Moore. She kept glancing at her boyfriend’s phone, not sure what she should type. She kept laughing at his entries. Brian’s phone vibrated and he picked it up. He read, “Football may be America’s pastime, but basketball players sweat much more.” I glanced around thinking I knew where the text came from. For this performance, Feldman acted out and dramatized his readings. One text read, “The man in the front row blushes whenever he laughs.” I was one of three men in a front row seat. I was certainly laughing. Was I blushing? Could people see emotion and expression just from the involuntary rush of blood through my veins?
I focused more intently on the drawing. Remarks were made about the corporate looking portrait above Feldman’s head, and about a creepy mannequin dressed as a telephone repairman. An early text warned against using profane language since women and children were in the audience. Surprisingly everyone complied. I consider “txt“ to be Feldman’s signature performance piece and it would be great to see it performed in a larger venue. There is something interesting in clandestine, anonymous communication that indicates where we are moving as an interconnected society.
Daffodil Terrace
On the first Friday of each month the Morse Museum (445 North Park Avenue ), holds an open house offering free admission to the public between 4 and 8pm. This open house offer will continue through April. The museum also has a long tradition of offering an open house on each three day Easter weekend. I decided it was time to stop in and see the new wing which opened last month. I brought along my digital drawing tablet and my handy artist’s stool for my relaxing afternoon sketch. When I entered the museum I was told I would have to check my artists stool. I didn’t complain, I just handed it over. I would simply have to stand in one spot for several hours. I made a bee-line back to the new wing. I knew I wanted to sketch the Daffodil Terrace.
I pulled out my tablet and opened Sketchbook Pro. Within a minute the guard walked up to me and said, “There is no sketching in the Museum.” Fuming I explained that I had sketched there before with no problem. He said, “Sorry that is the policy.” I pulled out my iPhone and immediately sent out a tweet angrily announcing that an artist can not sketch in the Morse Museum. The guard walked up before I finished the tweet saying, “You can’t use your cell phone in the museum.” I sighed, turned on my heel, pressed send, and marched back to the front desk to collect my artist stool and leave in a huff.
As the woman behind the desk looked for my stool, I said, “I didn’t realize that artists were not allowed to draw in the museum.” She said, “I didn’t know that either.” She made a call. A very tall guard walked up to me as she was on the phone. He explained that it was the use of the tablet for drawing that was at issue. The guards assume a tablet might be shooting video or taking pictures. Anything digital is suspicious. He also said that people using their cell phones often walk around without looking where they are going. I imagined someone so immersed reading their cell that they walk right through a stained glass window. I find that image funny. “If I sketch in a paper sketchbook, is that alright?” I asked. “That is fine.” He said. I offered to leave the tablet at the front desk with my chair. The woman behind the desk said, “You hold onto it.” Walkie talkies buzzed among the museum guards announcing that an artist would be sketching, possibly with a tablet. They announced what I was wearing so they all could be on the lookout. She was concerned that I might block the traffic flow but I assured her that standing with a sketchpad, I would only take up a one footsquare. Besides, the museum wasn’t particularly crowded. Only one or two people inspected the terrace at a a time.
When I got back to the new wing, the first thing I sketched of course was the guard who told me I could not sketch. I decided not to use the tablet since it had caused such a commotion. As I worked, Catherine Hinman, the director of public affairs introduced herself to me and apologized about the policy. She explained that she was from the old school world of paper and ink publishing and that this digital age was a whole new world. She was very gracious and I felt a bit less like a felon as I sketched. I actually started to respect the guards stamina because he stood in one spot for a solid two hours. That is no easy task. Who knows how long he stood in that one spot that day.
The Daffodil Terrace was part of Laurelton Hall, Louis Comfort Tiffany’s upstate New York house. It was added to the house between 1915 and 1916. The columns are of beautiful white Carrara marble. Mined in Italy this is the same marble used by Michelangelo to carve David. Several times people reached out to touch the columns and the guard had to intervene. An old lady’s cell phone rang and the guard asked her to take the call outside. The capitals of the columns were made of concrete with yellow glass daffodils clustered together. A pear tree used to grow up through the central opening in the terrace. Sadly that opening is now capped off. The whole structure is enclosed in a sterile glass atrium. In the future I hope the museum will encourage artists to stop, sit and observe Tiffany’s colorful and inspiring work. As I retrieved my stool the guard said, “If we let you sit and sketch then everyone will want to do the same.” Is that really such a bad thing?
Albin Polasek Museum
On the final day of of Arts Fest, the Albin Polasek museum was open with free admission for a day. I was informed that some plein air panters would be on the property painting that day. The painters were there to help promote the Winter Park Paint Out which will be happening between April 23rd and April 30th. I decided that was my cue to sketch some painters at work. It was a beautiful sunny day and the gardens surrounding the historic building were in full bloom. I walked around hunting for artists at work. There was one artist set up on the large lawn behind the home but as I approached he started to dismantle his easel. Just my luck, he was finished. I walked down to the benehes which sat right on the lake then walked back to the house. When I passed the chapel, and stood in the portico, I noticed that Hal Stringer was set up in the driveway working on a small painting. An Albin Polasek sculpture titled “Mother” stood with its back to me. Something about how the warm light filled in the shadows appealed to me.
Guests of the museum often approached Hal and he was very generous with his feed back. For instance he asked a little girl if she liked to make art. When she said she did, he told her to never stop making art if she enjoyed it. I later discovered that Berto Ortega was working on a painting inside the museum. He stopped out to say hello and unfortunately was called away because of a family emergency. I never got to see the painting he was working on. When I finished my sketch I rushed over to Rollin’s College’s Annie Russel Theater hoping to get into a play that had just started. There were no Arts Fest tickets left so I abandoned the idea of sketching the play.
Polasek Museum
I was asked to participate this year in an event called the Winter Park Paint Out.The event will be happening between April 23 and April 30th. During this week plein air painters will set up all around Winter Park to paint. I will report on this unique event with my usual sketches. To promote the event, the Polasek Museum hosted a poster competition with the winning entry getting $1000. I was invited to the opening reception where all the plein air paintings were on exhibit. In the corner of the room an easel was set up and draped with a while sheets.The finished poster was hidden and would be United when the time was right.
I decided I couldn’t set up in the man gallery without sitting in front of someones painting. Even I am not that rude. So I went outside to the gorgeous gardens and decided to take an outsider’s view of the proceedings. An Albin Polesek bronze sculpture of Saint Francis and the Wolf of Gubbio quietly and stoically held its vigil as the sun set. Patrons from last years Paint Out were invited to the reception to meet the artists who would be painting this year.
Don Sandag came out to say hello. I first met Don back when I worked at Disney Feature Animation. Don came to the studio to run painting workshops in the evening back then. He told me he looks forward to the Paint Out each year because artists were pampered and treated like Rock Stars. Mary Hill and her boyfriend Berto Ortega were inside. Berto is a painter originally from New York City. Mary and another painter mugged at me through the window making me laugh. By the time the poster winter was announced, the sun had set and the cool, blue dusk light darkened Saint Francis. I heard the wave of applause as the winner was announced. I threw down my last water color washes and rushed inside. Don Sondag’s painting of the Polasek statue, “Mother” had won.
Afterward a group of artists remained. Larry Moore was discussing the idea that artists should make a percentage any time one of their paintings is resold. Don joked that this idea might backfire if the work was sold for less than the initial price, for instance at a garage sale. I spoke to the editor of Winter Park Magazine about using my sketches as a way to report on this years event. Getting to meet all these amazing artists is going to be a thrill. I am bound to learn a thing or two.
Gender in Art
I went to meet Terry at the Orlando Museum of Art for a discussion about the new exhibit at the museum which focuses on Gender in Art. There was a wonderful spread with Salmon, spinach dip , crackers, chips and deserts. A fairly large crowd filled the central atrium with the blue Chihuly chandelier. As I was eating I noticed that another crowd had gathered in the central gallery. No food was allowed inside so I gulped down my soda and crackers and dashed inside. A woman was giving a talk and she moved people around the room explaining the art. There was a Warhol print of Marilyn Monroe and some paintings of women throughout the ages. There was a long line of women’s slips suspended from the ceiling presumably to hint at a woman’s closet being a work of art. A small fabric doll from china had bright gold beads and pins sewn on one side and the other side had black beads in an intricate pattern. This was supposed to indicate how women are perceived and then how they are actually treated.
I sat opposite this wedding dress created by LesleyDillin. The dress is made from acrylic and thread on a mannequin. In 1994 this dress was worn by a model who read the Emily Dickenson poem, “The Soul has Bandaged Moments.” The poem is written all over the dress in bold black paint. As the model read, she ripped the dress off, shredding it to pieces. Lesley later sewed the pieces back together with black thread.
The Soul has Bandaged moments –
When too appalled to stir –
She feels some ghastly Fright come up
And stop to look at her –
Salute her – with long fingers –
Caress her freezing hair –
Sip, Goblin, from the very lips
The Lover – hovered – o’er –
Unworthy, that a thought so mean
Accost a Theme – so – fair –
The soul has moments of Escape –
When bursting all the doors –
She dances like a Bomb, abroad,
And swings upon the Hours,
As do the Bee – delirious borne –
Long Dungeoned from his Rose –
Touch Liberty – then know no more,
But Noon, and Paradise –
The Soul’s retaken moments –
When, Felon led along,
With shackles on the plumed feet,
And staples, in the Song,
The Horror welcomes her, again,
These, are not brayed of Tongue –
– Emily Dickenson
Christmas in the Park
A free concert in Winter Park’s Central Park was the perfect way to get in the Christmas spirit. It was a very cold night for Orlando. I arrived maybe half an hour early and already the great lawn was packed with families who had come out with picnic baskets, blankets, wine and even fine china and candles for the occasion. I felt a bit unprepared with just a sketchbook, pen and some watercolors. After I set up my stool on the sidelines, Ken Sperduso walked up and said hello. Ken was a former Disney colleague and a wonderful painter. I hadn’t seen Ken in ages, it was a pleasant surprise. His whole family was camped out not far behind me. Ken said he recognized me from behind because of the sketchbook in my lap.
Large shadow box containers were arranged on stage and around the lawn, housing original Tiffany stained glass windows which were created for a church in NYC in the early 1900’s. At the start of the concert they all were illuminated from behind. The instant they blazed brightly, the crowd burst forth with applause. It is rewarding to hear people applaud for visual art. These amazing works had iridescent colors that only Tiffany could perfect in molten glass. This display was made possible thanks to the Morse Museum which houses the world’s largest collection of Tiffany’s work.
The concert featured the Bach Festival Choir and Brass Ensemble. As I sketched, I pulled my hands up into the sleeves of my sweatshirt to try and keep them warm. Periodically I had to blow into my cupped hands for added warmth. It felt like Christmas time. When I finished the sketch I walked around in the crowd for a while looking for a possible second sketch. I walked under a streetlamp so I could see the colors I had just painted for the first time. Mr. and Mrs. Claus were handing out candy to children. They were dressed in vintage 1900’s red wool and white fur outfits. They looked warm as they calmly posed for family photos. I considered a sketch but my fingers were cold, and the jolly couple were constantly on the move. The Park Avenue store windows glowed warm and inviting. With all the families huddling close together for warmth and the angelic voices of the children on stage singing, I started feeling out of place, alone, with only my obsessive compulsion to sketch as company. As I turned away and walked down Park Avenue towards my truck, I pulled the sweatshirt hood up over my head and felt instantly warmer. The children’s voices were still harmonizing behind me and I let the warmth spread as I walked briskly back toward home.