36" x 24", oil on panel
4" x 3", dry point, chine colle
This is the most minimal work I have done to date. The general theme is evoked by color, green for hope and black for loss. Emotions and color have in common that they are complex beyond words with many subtleties for which there are no names.
The green in the print looks flat compared with the juicy oil painting, but in real life it is sensous, reminding one of dewy grass.
As I looked on-line for a link to put with color field painter Robert Moore, I became increasingly disheartened. I was a junior at Massachusetts College of Art, looking forward to taking his color theory class because of the high regard students had for him, when he became ill and shortly after died. This painting I am doing now reminds me of him. Artists always have other artists as role models, but my favorites are those who are amazing, caring people in addition to being great artists. Rob Moore was that kind, reputed to paint an unbelievable number of hours on top of his teaching schedule. There must be lots of paintings out there by him, but there are so few links on the web. He died in 1993, before being on the Internet became almost necessary as proof of existence. It shouldn't be so shocking, I suppose, that artists leave behind their art and become anonymous; archaeology provides countless examples. It just seems so soon for that to happen and rather unjust when there is so much art that is promoted unworthily. If I had money to collect art, I would seek out his. I saw some in person once at a Boston gallery and they were like small miracles. One would expect paintings so small and with so few elements to be arbitrary, like how students often feel at their first glance at a Morandi. Instead, they are vibrant, joyous, meaningful visual poems. I remember one that was the color of a raw cracked egg: glistening yellows, whites, made of a substance that seemed to go beyond paint. One of the things I found through Google was a short bit of writing about Rob by a former student, which was very moving and seemed to describe the qualities of the man that he also squeezed into his paintings.
I guess I am looking back so much because I need to be refreshed and re inspired as I continue to put paint on a surface. There are so many other practical things to do with time, many of which are a lot easier! I am dust if I make paintings and dust if I don't, and the paintings are dust, too. It is a meaningful process for me like no other, so I make them.
