PAINTING: Agnes Martin, LACMA

Oh, dear.  Sometimes I think I love the philosophy, intentions, and writings of Minimalist abstract expressionists more than I love the actual artworks.  

That said, I love Agnes Martin's work - all of it.  She seems to be to be the perfect pure artist, refined, filled with joyful and kind intention and attention, empty of self, transcended and suspended in the moment, in the world yet fully in spirit, a true vector for glimpsing the Tao, and accepting the self and its limits, as Freud concluded we must.  

Looking at her work is like always being able to hear the distant and poignant whistle of the train.  


In this photo, so stoic,  present, and resolved,  gazing with full knowingness, and the quality of borne pain it carries - Agnes Martin reminds me so much of photographs of my grandparents and great-grandparents from the late 1800's and early 1900's - German farmers tough of spirit, dour, and almost sullen as the face the camera.  Of course, they didn't smile because they had to hold still for so long to expose the film, right?

So what and who does she make me yearn for?  For Martin Avery, for Mark Rothko, for Sean Scully. 

Midwinter, 1954

Untitled, 1959

Untitled, 1960

No one talks or writes much about whether Martin's diagnosed schizophrenia shaped her art, how, and how much.  As I look at the body of work, I think I feel the grid as a cage, a prison always settled over her being in which she worked ceaselessly with as much precision as she could bring to bear to explore the possibilities of her constrained existence.  

Of course, that's what we've all got, right? The ultimate non-knowing subjective state of what we can know and not know we don't know; the physical constraints of perception, the body and time which construct that grid..

The Islands, 1961

How satisfying, now beautiful, how right.

Summer, 1963

Friendship, 1963 paper

The Egg, 1963 ink on paper

Untitled, 1995 oil on canvas, 6"x6'

I Love the Whole World,  1999

I leave Martin for a time, with the gate open, and go to Rothko and Avery to be underwater, submerged in color, to dissolve the grid, to loosen, ungrid, unravel; to move with liquid freedom in warm ocean waters, floating, always floating through time and space, untethered, called back only by breath. 

Milton Avery, Gaspé Peninsula

Mark Rothko

Sean Scully, Home

ART: Grazing the Internet, Edward Kienholz, Rachel Whiteread

Rachel Whiteread's artwork, "Cabin", is being installed on Governor's Island in New York City.  It's a reverse concrete cast of a small outlying building.  Looks so marvelous with the sophisticated architecture behind it, a ghost-dwelling for those who seek America first spiritually and then in body.

5 Car Stud, 1969-1972, Edward Kienzholz

The effect Kienholz' installations had on me when I was in my 40's was ultimately political, didactic, pandemic agreement.  I was an art equivalent of a demagogue - familiar refrain these day, yes? - ranting at injustice.  Look, see what misery, horror, loneliness, suffering, injustice really looks like? Stop it now! Make it stop!

In my 70's now, it seems that a much less egotistical narcissistic reaction occurs.  It's quiet, grieving: a perspective sees that  the earth constricted in spatial and temporal bands of suffering and injustice that can never be forgotten - not one death redeemed, all lost.  It must be pushed until death, another level of Sisiphys-ian existence.

PAINTING: Emily Carr, seminal Canadian ethnographer and painter

 I can hear the
Rhine Maidens'
far-away echo,
grieving the 
inevitable rape
of our earthly
home.




I learned about Emily Carr when I was exploring the Canadian landscape painters called "The Group of Seven". 

She documented the Native American tribal cultures of Canada, frequently painting their totems and other craftwork. A current exhibit at the Art Gallery of Greater Victoria documents her life, work, and influence on the next generation of artists.

Steve Martin recently curated an exhibition at the Hammer on Lawren Harris, which focussed attention on this fascinating art group.  Their work is dynamic, lyrical, celebratory; images of American landscape unplundered, unspoiled by fracking and gas pipelines.

secret fracking dumping operation disposing of waste fluids  in Canada

The Group of Seven, also known as the Algonquin School, was a group of Canadian landscape painters from 1920 to 1933, originally consisting of Franklin Carmichael (1890–1945), Lawren Harris(1885–1970), A. Y. Jackson (1882–1974), Frank Johnston (1888–1949), Arthur Lismer (1885–1969), J. E. H. MacDonald (1873–1932), and Frederick Varley (1881–1969). Later, A. J. Casson (1898–1992) was invited to join in 1926; Edwin Holgate (1892–1977) became a member in 1930; and LeMoine FitzGerald (1890–1956) joined in 1932.

Two artists commonly associated with the group are Tom Thomson (1877–1917) and Emily Carr(1871–1945). Although he died before its official formation, Thomson had a significant influence on the group. In his essay "The Story of the Group of Seven", Harris wrote that Thomson was "a part of the movement before we pinned a label on it"; Thomson's paintings The West Wind and The Jack Pine are two of the group's most iconic pieces.^[1] Emily Carr was also closely associated with the Group of Seven, though was never an official member.

Believing that a distinct Canadian art could be developed through direct contact with nature,^[2] the Group of Seven is best known for its paintings inspired by the Canadian landscape, and initiated the first major Canadian national art movement.^[3] The Group was succeeded by the Canadian Group of Painters in the 1933, which included members from the Beaver Hall Group who had a history of showing with the Group of Seven internationally.^{[4][5]   (from Wikipedia).}

Another artist I include in this genre is Rockwell Kent, an unusual 

illustrator and painter who lived in Alaska and Greenland,

an Ayn Rand caricature well known for marvelous illustrations for an 

edition of "Moby Dick".  His work is  reductive, frozen, 

filled with germanic, gothic Wagnerian grandeur. 

AUTRY MUSEUM OF WESTERN ART: Gardena High School Collection, Permanent Works,

Rick Bartow, "Crow", gouache on paper

The Gardena High School Collection

California Impressionism: The Gardena High School Collection features a selection of nine paintings from the collection, including major works by notable artists such as Maynard Dixon, Jean Mannheim, and Edgar Payne. The paintings on view reflect the state’s scenic diversity as well as the vitality of Gardena High School’s program and the Impressionist movement that once flourished here.  

Franz Bischoff, "A Cool Drifting Fog", 1924

Edgar Payne Rockbound, circa 1918

Jack Wilkinson Smith, "Lingering Snows",  undated

John Frost, "Desert Twilight",  1924

Checking on line on the Gardena High school website, I learned that the collection has about 100 paintings in it, all in storage, none on display because they have no gallery.
Fundraising continues but I'm not optimistic this will amount to much.  I hope LAUSD is helping them with conservation and storage. 

This collection is too important to leave unviewed by district's children and by the public.  I'm thinking about doing something about it - what would that look like?
  

The Permanent Collection

Albert Bierstadt, "Landscape with Indians", 1859





Thomas Moran, "Mountain of the Holy Cross", 1875



Gene Autry Lunchbox, 1950's

W

BIRDING & FLOWERS: Franklin Canyon Reservoir, Santa Placerita Canyon Park, Newhall

Plentiful at Franklin Canyon:

orange sticky monkeyflower - Franklin Canyon

oak titmouse

Seen at both places - a charming little energetic gray bird with its crest.  Hopped onto our picnic table to pick up a sunflower seed someone had left there.  

Calochortus clavatus var. gracilis; Slender Mariposa Lily

Seen trailside at Placenta Canyon. A local unusual variety of Mariposa Lily/Tulip. My most scientific field guide, by Niehaus, lists neither of these flowers.

turtles sunning - Franklin Canyon Reservoir

My brother who lives in Iowa came to stay for a week to recover from wrist surgery.  He tends to the acerbic when contemplating LA lifestyles - traffic, home values, big city indifference, all quite valid, yes?

I wanted to take him to see an "urban greenspot", so we started out for Franklin Canyon.  Of course, another LA water main had broken and a detour was necessary. And the popular park was that day a site for a movie shoot. The little pond was going to be filled with kayaks and inflatables. Loud conversations concerning setups, placement, floated over to us as we circled the small lake, as we sat and listened to the peculiar comforting sound of ducks as they strained water through their beaks for food (combination of a  gurgle and suck).  

This he found to be of interest, to my relief, and once away from the large pond, well known as the lake where Andy Griffith went fishing in the TV show's title sequence, we found a picnic spot under the oaks to relax and watch ducks, turtles, and a few birds.  Marvelous sunny weather with a slight breeze and moderate temperature. 

Next day up early to drive to Newhall for another bird walk.  It was Open House at the Nature Center, and after the walk we strolled about chatting with exhibitors, enjoying displays of natural history.

matalija poppy

woolly blue curls-rosemary like leaves

Best bird seen at Placerita - male Western bluebird.  Placenta Canyon has a lovely stream (winter/spring water only).  There's a  cabin actually used by the Walker family.  I want to live in it in summer.  Sorry, display only.  Visitors could try washing clothes on a hand-operated wringer washing machine, with a scrub board, and sawing logs with an ancient two-man saw.  Really comical.

interior, Walker cabin

The docents/volunteer group was impressive, and the community turnout so large shuttle buses ran the crowds.  Glad we got there early.

ART: Lucy Jones, Susanne Rubin, Frederick Gore

 Monstrous iceberg - an unusual photograph which reveals what's beneath the tip.

Frederick Gore, Country House - English watercolorist

Lucy Jones, English artist - what astonishing color and energy.

Colorado botanic illustrator.  I love placing drawings on maps, and referring to mapping in painting.  Suzanne Rubin illustrated the seed packet of sunflowers I bought for Alexa and me to plant.

Robert Clunie - Saginaw, or River Dwellers

PAINTING: The Getty Cezannes, Serusier

Still Life with Apples, 1899

Italian Woman

Its always a pleasure to go up to the Getty.   I am very familiar with the holdings now, after working there during my teaching days, and looking at them when visitors come.  As always the Cezannes, which the Getty paid in the range of $25 million each, never fail to answer every question one could devise. And they they remain, each in lovely imbalance, the color glowing and rich.

Then the Norton Simon offers Paul Serusier's apples, a fine example of what I think of as incorporation - the Freudian defense mechanism of taking in what one admires, is affected by, wants...Serusier seems reductive to me - the colors echo, the perspective tilts, yet it's all so different and similar.