THOUGHTS . . . About Art #3
This week’s blog is about abstract art—mine.
Decades ago my husband, Bert, and I went to see a movie at the Palms Theater in Phoenix. I forget the name of the film, but I have never forgotten a Jackson Pollock short documentary.
I sat there in the darkness with a smile on my face as I watched the artist pour house paint from a can onto boards beside a stream. I could see him thinking, composing, moving from one section of the painting to another, using a stick or brush handle to dribble color where he wanted it. He was almost dancing around his creative effort, concentrating.
When we left the theater I said, “That’s what I want to do—paint like Pollock.”
I was an art student at the time, learning about traditional methods, but I tucked Pollock into a fold in my brain and kept him there until it was time to bring him out.
Incidentally, Pollock had a traditional art background too, having studied with some impressive artists.
The thing I admired about him was his stubbornness in regard to painting what he wanted. He intently judged his own work . I saw him studying the results of a work, then sawing up the large piece and throwing the rejected pieces into the creek . My jaw dropped in surprise. How about that?
I didn’t go so far as to follow his lifestyle, which was less than admirable. I didn’t even copy him, but I experimented with pouring and throwing paint onto a flat horizontal surface and liked what I saw.
A favorite of my own work is titled Allegro. It’s a vertical triptych consisting of three 30-by-40-inch canvas panels. I painted it horizontally on a picnic table in the back yard, working Pollack style. It was quite large—90 inches on the longest side.
After Bert wired it two ways, and hung it in the living room, I photographed it. Instinctively, I turned the print from a horizontal image to a vertical one. I gasped, and my eyes widened. “This is the way it is supposed to be!”
I saw music in it—a tall figure, notes floating around, blasts of trumpets, pings of flutes, and felt vibrations of drums. Do you see that?
If you double-click on the image you will see that it’s signed on the upper right corner. It used to be on the lower right. I even enjoy that.
Gene K. Garrison’s artwork can be seen at Fine Art America. Go directly to her pages at genekgarrison.com.