Art, Truth, Child-play

"When we can play with the unself-conscious concentration of a child, this is: art, prayer, love." -- Madeleine L'Engle

The story of Marla has fascinated me for awhile. Here is a child in a crazy situation, created by the adults around her. I don't care about the controversy, but I wonder (and worry) about this little girl.

However, I had never considered this story from this angle before. It makes me think about my own work a little differently.

Is Color linked to Music?

In my studio over the past couple of days, we've been talking about an interesting system for organizing our palette. The Fletcher Palette system is based on the idea that colors and music are linked. It's a pretty complex system (for me at least) and I can't find a link online that explains it clearly, so I guess I'll attempt an explanation. Bear with me.

There are 12 musical notes and 12 colors that the palette is based on. The colors are all really intense chromatic colors, so forget about browns and beiges and grays for the time being. Think of a color wheel with Yellow, Yellow-Green, Green, Blue-Green, Blue, Blue-Violet, Violet, Red-Violet, Red, Red-Orange, Orange, and Yellow-Orange. You're also allowed to have White.

It looks a bit like this:



Ok, now in this example there are lines connecting complementary colors-- colors directly across from each other on the wheel-- like red and green, or purple and yellow, or orange and blue. The Fletcher System insists that these colors mixed together on a painting result in flat and muddy color. However, if you were to connect Orange to Blue-Green (instead of Blue) you would have a cleaner, crisper mixed color. So if you want to paint something that isn't so intensely chromatic, you would mix colors across the color wheel following a set pattern.

Here's where this relates to music. Fletcher's idea was that the 12 chromatic colors can be set up on a scale similar to the 12 tones in music. You then choose a color key for your painting, somewhat like choosing to play a song in the key of C. Once you've chosen your color key, then you mix your colors in intervals based on music as well. Another example: if you were to play a song in the key of C, then you'd play the notes C, E, and G to create a triad--or a major chord. The E note is third in the key and G is the fifth note in the key. (Chris had to explain this part to me last night.) So if you decide to paint using the key of Yellow, then following the circle around, you'd use Yellow, Red-Violet and Blue-Green which are spaced around the circle in intervals of three and five from Yellow. Look at the circle to figure this out. It's a little confusing.

You'd use those three colors mixed together to create a neutral gray, which you'd use similarly to a major chord in a song. It's the predominant harmony throughout the painting. And this system of arranging your palette allows you to have brighter and clearer colors in a painting.

As you can see, it's a bit complex. I'm intrigued by the idea that these intervals are so deeply ingrained that they can transfer from music to color, but there are a few holes in the theory for me. One, this only works with music based on the 12-note scale. Music in China, India and other parts of Asia, use a completely different scale, so I can't really buy in to the idea that this system has a universal appeal. Secondly, it's a bit frustrating and time consuming trying to mix a color that looks like Yellow Ochre when you have a tube Yellow Ochre right in your taboret.

Maybe the results are worth it. I'll let you know.

29 of 30 complete...

One year ago I began an adventure. I made a list of 30 things to do while I was 30. I put some wild and crazy things on the list, and some challenging things, and even some small triumphs. I wasn't sure I would get any of them done, but Chris had more faith in me. He started the year by helping me accomplish three of them on the first day.

This year I have been to the Symphony, had Veuve Clicquot champagne, been to the Grand Canyon, jumped rope, learned to tie my shoes in under 30 seconds, rode in a hot air balloon, climbed a mountain, skied down a hill (sort of), copied a masterpiece, swam half a mile, sang in public and had a fondue party.

I also knit a sweater, drove a stick shift, made bananas foster, made chocolate mousse, learned to kayak, read a short story in French, sang in public, went to New York City, grew my own vegetables and cooked with them, painted a portrait of Chris, read The Message, and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, and Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

And I made both of Chris's favorite desserts, published something, sold a piece of artwork (I actually sold three!), mostly conquered my fear of dogs, was mostly honest all the time, and made a quilt (that wasn't even on the list).

This afternoon on my lunch hour, my friend Kathy is going to pick me up, I'm going to meet Chris and we're going to ride a roller coaster at Seattle Center. It's the last thing on my list and the perfect way to welcome 31. Chris says this year is going to be even better, but I'm not sure. Then again, he was right about 30. We'll see.

Out of the ordinary

I'm at the museum today and I normally only post when I'm at my studio, but I think I'm going to shift some things around over the next few weeks and I thought I'd start with this.

It's a gorgeous day out today-- I sat in the sun and drank green tea and ate vegetarian sushi for lunch. I've had a low key week. Lots of painting and getting back in to a rhythm with life. I've been a bit out of my groove for a while now. First I was sick for nearly three weeks, then Chris was away which always throws me for a loop. Then my sister's wedding and the trip to Alabama. I'm hoping for a bit of quiet and order for awhile now. I know I paint best when there's a certain pattern to my days.

But-- warmer weather is coming and Chris is already planning is next big adventure, so I know this respite won't last long. Soon I'll be back to crazy-ness and uncertainty. It's all part of the fun that is my life. I like it that way mostly, but for now I'll enjoy these few mundane days.

A boring title...

But my show, "Recent Paintings: Jolie Guillebeau" is up on the second floor hallway in the St. Nicholas building at Gage Academy in Seattle. For those of you too far away to see it in person, I'll post pictures sometime this week.

I've been in Alabama this week for my sister's wedding, but I'm finally back in my studio today. It's nice to have a paintbrush in my hand again. The wedding was amazing--it was fun and silly and meaningful and a great celebration of Tera and Wes and their new life together. They really made the wedding their own. It was clear that they are in love and really committed to building a life of fun together.

But I must say, the best part of the trip to Alabama was on Thursday night, when Chris arrived. He flew from India, by way of Tokyo, Los Angeles, Chicago and Nashville. I was so happy to see him!

Adding details...

Well, I don't have a camera here today, so I can't show you what I've done. My camera is in India with Chris-- I'm looking forward to having both of them back in a couple of weeks.

Meanwhile, I'll catch up on details in life. Around the 22nd of February I went to bed and when I got up it was March 11. It's taken a week to get myself back to almost normal, though if you've emailed me lately then just be patient-- I'll respond eventually. Last week when I emerged from my house I discovered that it was Spring! Things are blooming and trees are budding--though all that pollen isn't really helping me recover.

I'm now back at the studio on a regular basis and I've even been back to the gym. With Chris gone, I have a lot of alone time (both a good and a bad thing) and it's giving me an opportunity to take inventory. For example, last night I made a list of all the things that are on my knitting needles or things I want to knit. It's extensive. I need to finish Chris's sweater, and his socks, and my socks, and a hat, and a dishcloth, and then I want to start my sweater, and another pair of socks, and a scarf for a friend, and... um, maybe I should stop typing and start knitting.

This is the problem with taking inventory!

I'm not dead...

Though I wasn't sure there for a while. No, I'm finally back in my studio after a nasty battle with the flu, and a sinus infection and an upper respiratory infection. The combination of the three was a bit overwhelming, but I have triumphed!

I have lots of things to update you on--a new painting, Chris's adventuring, and the final days of my thirtieth year (there are only 30 days left to finish my 30 things while 30). However, I'm working under a deadline today, so you must be patient while I catch up on other things in my life.

A visit with Bo Bartlett...

Since Thursday is the day I talk about artists, I thought it appropriate that I went to an Art talk today. Gage Academy has Art talks about once a month, but generally I find that it's more productive if I stay in my studio and paint. The few artists that I've heard there have been wacky and a bit pretentious. They also create things using silly string and old toasters-- not my kind of thing. If it's your kind of thing, I'm not judging you, I just won't go listen to your Art talks.

Anyway, Bo Bartlett was the guest for the Art talk today. He's neither wacky, nor pretentious and his work is beautiful. One of the big walls that I keep hitting with my work is figuring out what I want to say with my Art. It's easy to just paint pretty pictures, but is that real life? I've seen too much to know that I have more to say than just, "oh, here's a pretty bunch of fruit." Yet, I don't really know how to communicate the big ideas in my head. I can barely use words effectively, much less tubes of paint.

So not only is Bo's work wonderful, he really conveys the big ideas effectively. I took a workshop he taught last spring and learned more in that two days than I had in two quarters at Gage. It was called "Finding Your Voice as a Painter" and it was definitely a defining moment in my art making process. Listening to Bo again today challenged me and reminded me of the things about this process that matter. That what I have to say is worth the effort it takes to figure out how to say it.

Go look at Bo's work and be inspired.

Off to the museum.

Just a quick update before I leave the studio for the week.

It's a good day. Mitt Romney dropped out of the presidential race, I had a really wonderful piroshki for lunch and I made much progress on my painting.

Look, a glass!

And here's the whole painting-- I think it's coming together.

So today in the studio we talked about books rather than Art History and therefore, I'm going to do the same thing. First, another influential artist--Thomas Buechner. His book, How I Paint, is out of print now, but I still use it constantly. He approaches landscape, still life and portraits with common sense and without pretention. It's one of those books that I learn from every time I open it. Honestly, I know very little about him as a person. But his work really speaks to me. If you can get a copy of his book, it's well worth the read.

Thursday again...

Since Monday was a holiday and I wasn't in my studio, this week has gone very quickly. I have a lot of painting to catch up on, so I'm just jumping straight to this week's influential artist: Vermeer.

For many years he was almost forgotten, but now Vermeer's work resonates for many as the definitive Dutch ideal in painting. Though we don't know much about him as a person, his work is easily recognizable. For me his work is really simple and complex at the same time. I've tried several master copies of his work and each time I learn something new about painting. The world he creates is his painting is quiet and thoughtful.

My great disappointment in life is that I haven't actually seen his work in person. In 2001, his work at the Met in New York wasn't on display, then both times I was in Amsterdam we went to the Van Gogh Museum instead of the Rijksmuseum because it was being remodeled. When I went to New York in September, seeing Vermeer was at the top of my list. BUT, I went just a week before this exhibit opened. And no matter how much I pleaded, the guard would not let me in to wherever they were storing the painting while they were hanging the work.

So I guess I'll just have to go back.

Wrapping up...

Thursday comes so quickly! With lots done this week, I'm ready to shift gears and go to the museum for a couple of days.

Meanwhile, Thursday I talk about an artist. We'll stick with Impressionists for awhile and I'll talk about Camille Pissarro.

A few years ago (wait--many years ago) Chris and I were in Boston visiting friends and we went to the Museum of Fine Art. There are 46 paintings by Monet and I couldn't wait to see every single one of them. But somewhere along the way I got distracted. I walked through a gallery and a small painting on a far wall grabbed my attention. The light and colors really gleamed. I sat and sketched trying to capture what it was that I loved so much about this painting. Later in the store, I bought a small white book with other paintings by this artist and read as much as I could about Pissarro in the back seat of my friends' car.

Pissarro was born in Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas (I've been to his house!) in 1830. Later he trained in Paris and relocated there with his family. He was a committed Socialist and is known somewhat as a fatherly figure to the other impressionists. He mentored Cezanne, Van Gogh and offered a calm stabilizing force to the other more rash members of the group. He was also willing to learn from younger artists.

He took his art seriously, but didn't seem to take himself seriously. That's one of my goals as well.

Questions?

For each month of 2008, I'm completing a series of paintings that relate to a specific motif. For example, January's motif is "Questions." That means that each week of this month I'll complete a small painting that relates to that idea. My first painting asked, "Am I forgetting something?" which is a question I ask a lot. And since I usually forget my keys, my bus pass or my cell phone, those were the things I included in the painting.

This week I'm asking "What time is it?" So obviously, I'm painting my watch. I'm pleasantly surprised with the results so far, though I still have a good chance at messing up. I'll let you know how it turns out.

And since Thursdays in our studio usually start with an art history discussion, I've decided that Thursday posts will feature a favorite artist. This week-- Berthe Morisot.

Morisot was beautiful, talented and professionally successful. She married "well" (her brother-in-law was Edouard Manet) and was respected professionally by the other Impressionists. I love the emotion of her paintings, but I'm mostly impressed with her life. She was always determined to be an Artist (with a capital A) in an age when women weren't supposed to be determined about anything. Yet, she still balanced her career and her family with a success that few women find even today.

She wasn't dramatic or harpy. She wasn't a rebel. She lived very quietly in middle class Paris, first as a daughter then as a wife and mother. She received visitors and threw parties and fulfilled all the societal obligations of nineteenth century France. But she also committed herself to her painting without wavering. And not only to painting, but to a completely new and original idea of what painting should be. She was true to her own voice.

It is important to express oneself... provided the feelings are real and are taken from your own experience. -- Berthe Morisot


Real painters understand with a brush in their hand. --Berthe Morisot