My
studio was in chaos. I had spent the last few days varnishing and framing
paintings to go out to exhibits, taking others off their stretchers to be wiped
out and resurfaced, and reorganizing the shelves where I store my sketchbooks
and dry colors. There was a large stack of frames on one side of the room and a
stack of stretchers on another, the walls were closing in on me, my studio was
getting smaller. And I was becoming desperate to paint. The paintings that I
had already started were not satisfying, one from my video of nature and two
small landscapes from my memory and imagination. I needed to paint from life but the table I use to set up still lifes was filled with stuff from my various
projects. My easel was in the only clear space in the room so I sat down and
stared at the mess in front of me. I decided to embrace the clutter.
The
subject matter for my painting was a stack of sketchbooks, two nocturnes, one
hanging on the wall, the other propped up on some bubble wrap, leaning against
the wall and the other painting, a clear plastic box of screws, a post it
notepad, a roll of blue painter’s tape, a pencil, a screwdriver, a writing pad,
and a yellow invoice for some framing supplies. I was out, way, way out of my
comfort zone. It would have been just a pile of clutter were it not for the
light coming in from my window.
The cool north light brought unity and harmony to the collection of objects before me and I was able to see them for what they were. The nocturnes were inspired by two extraordinary evenings. Each of the sketchbooks represented important times in my life; several held drawings that I did at the Art Students League while teaching there, the leather bound volume I bought on a painting trip to Florence, and I took the portfolios to a variety of life drawing sessions over the years. The odd assortment of objects that had been carelessly left on the table were things I used to prepare my paintings for exhibitions. This was not clutter, it was my life...
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