A Painting of Roman Glass

Last winter, and the winter before that, I spent some time looking at ancient Roman and Byzantine glass at the Metropolitan Museum of Art as well as the Princeton University Art Museum in New Jersey. One of the pictures I took from a study collection at Princeton University was so well balanced in composition that I did not alter it by much when I painted it, save to turn the middle vessel blue from green, and the green fish vessel in to violet.

These are painted on an amber coated gesso panel with thin glazes of color to create a glass like effect. On top of that I used mica enhanced pigments, the glitter effect reflecting the crystalized ancient glass.

For the background I made repeat patterns based upon the arch in the fish vessel.

The Bandoneon Player Revisited

My remake of old paintings continues. An early painting of a Bandoneon player, circa 2006, was in storage since it was part of an exhibition that same year. It had a nice frame and the canvas was sound so I decided to update it with fresh colors and a new composition. Like the painting of a dancing couple which turned in to a single woman doing a mathematics equation on a decorative background, The Bandoneon player became something richly decorative - with just a portion of the bandoneon player preserved.

I first sanded down the painting and let it sit for a while before deciding on edits. I settled on erasing everything but the face of the musician and his upper torso. I placed an oval stencil over his figure and painted out everything else with a thin coat of white paint.

At the time, my native yellow irises were in bloom so I harvested these to add to the composition. This only made sense by placing them in a vase underneath the oval. This vase of yellow iris was soon joined by a large teapot - painted from one in my collection. I altered the shape of the vessel to make it more ovoid, in keeping with the oval shape above it.

Finally, I transformed the portrait in to a depiction of a mosaic, painting a series of small tesselated strokes in various hues. A new painting again from an old work that was doing nothing more than taking up space.

The Turbulence of Rivers

This spring I have been in the process of reclaiming, restoring and recycling old paintings. For many of these, this simply means sanding down old canvases and painting over them. This painting of a small chapel in Elloree, for example, used to be a seated figure.

For other paintings, there are some parts that I wish to carve out and retain. The rest can be transformed.

My most elaborate painting transformation was of a couple dancing salsa. The only part of this painting that appealed to me was the woman with her back turned. The patterns in her dress were based upon the ripples of water that I observed in the Edisto River.

I sanded down everything in the painting except for the female figure.

I then applied an ample coat of white paint mixed with greys and greens around this figure. I had no idea where this revision would lead and decided to paint as it occurred to me from whatever inspiration happened to fall my way while the revisions were taking place.

In keeping with this "stream of consciousness" approach to painting, I acquired a heightened awareness of events that happened around me as I was revising this painting.

At this time Facebook started sending me advertisements for African braids. Taking this as a kind of omen, I decided to do research in to various types of hair styles so that I could change the figure’s hair in to braids. What I settled on was a combination of Afro-Columbian, Zaire, and Norwegian braiding systems.

While working on the braids, I decided that the figure in the painting should also be actively working on something. So I put a stylus in her raised hand. Initially, I thought to have her painting or weaving. For this effect, I studied Persian carpet designs and incorporated a number of them in to her work. I noted that working on this pattern was helpful for the relief of pain and discomfort. At this time I was reading a patient’s account of how doing mathematical proofs caused him to temporarily forget pain. Could I also allude to mathematics? I could! The theme of this painting was rivers - actually flow patterns that I had observed in the Edisto. Could there be a mathematical equation to express this? I did a search and came up a paper on river turbulence and calculations to evaluate this using Hack’s Law. So I carefully placed Hack’s Law in the painting in a position to appear as if the figure is writing it.

Now that I had a mathematical as well as a visual allusion to rivers in this painting I embarked on poetic expressions. There is a veritable plethora of these but I chose Langston Hugh’s "I know Rivers," and Pushkin’s "The Bronze Horseman." The latter poem has as its subject the historical flooding of St. Petersburg when the Neva River overflowed its banks.

As an homage to Pushkin, I painted a miniature portrait of the Russian poet held in the figure’s right hand. The figure was doing math with her left hand. Would it not be ironic, I mused, if my mathematician friend were left handed? It would be Jungian synchronicity at its best.

For the rest of the painting, I slowly painted a pattern like eighteenth century embroidery. The act of painting this itself was calming and engaging, especially while listening to Bach’s St. Matthew’s Passion and a good recording of Hummel’s piano concertos. The final work is reproduced below. She lost her man but became so grand.