WHAT DOES IT MEAN? It’s an important question that deserves attention, but sometimes insistence on knowing what something means gets so much in the way of experience that a moment which doesn’t depend at all on understanding for its significance slips past and away. At the National Gallery a couple of weeks ago I wandered among familiar paintings and prints and sculptures without stopping to analyze anything I was seeing. I specifically sought out works that I’ve known for years, the way one makes a special effort to find old friends. I didn’t try to figure out what Clifford Still or Robert Motherwell or Leonardo da Vinci was trying to say. Without spoiling the experience by analyzing it, I stood and allowed myself to be amazed that anybody could do what artists do. Please don’t misunderstand. Just as surely as Michelangelo knew that he wanted to release David from that immense block of marble, Motherwell knew what he was doing and why he was doing it when he painted the thirty-foot-long Reconciliation Elegy that hangs in the East Wing of the National Gallery.
Life is good.
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2 comments:
Good posting. I like all the abstracts, and particularly the roots.
Carlos
What wonderful expression.
Today I thought of you, as I sat having my favorite cup of coffee in McDonalds. On one side of the glass wall was a young mother breast feeding her baby with lots of preschoolers happily running around her. On the other side –where I sat- a very very old couple pouring over a lap top. He had white beard, a little hair, gold rimmed glasses almost perched on the end of his nose. His partner was trying to keep his ever drifting attention span, to teach him the intricacies of the computer. The juxtaposition of old and young reminded me of a Rockwellian moment.
Roz
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