#40 - The Pursuit of Beauty
915 East View
915 West View
Alone
Fellow Art Lovers:
First of all, I want to apologize for my long silence. I see that my last blog entry was more than
three months ago, and this is not acceptable. My goal is to keep you up to date
on my painting, and any ideas I may have along the way. Let me just say that sometimes goals get
derailed by other things, but I will make it up to you.
With this blog entry I want to show you some of my newest
work, and also I want to share an idea with you, an idea that I’m sure I did
not invent, but an interesting idea nonetheless.
First, to my big idea, which is sure to have been discovered
by someone else at some point.
The idea concerns what I call the miracle of painting, the
fact that, when an artist is painting a work, all he or she has to do is focus
on that canvas and forget the entire world around and all of its complexities
and complications and competing interests and problems. Success or failure is determined only by what
exists within the borders of the canvas.
The only goal the artist has to keep in mind is to turn that canvas into
a thing of beauty. And when I use the word beauty, I use the word in its
largest sense, something that impacts the viewer, or the reader or the listener.
This opportunity to focus on one limited space and ignore
the entire world belongs to one privileged class of artistic pursuits. In the
real world, as opposed to the artistic world, you have to solve so many related
problems, deal with so many interest groups, make realistic compromises and so
many other issues. In painting, Vermeer
was able to spend several years perfecting “The Girl with the Pearl
Earring.” A poet must only deal with a
few lines of a sonnet or, at the extreme only three lines of a haiku. A jeweler
can use a store of skill to create one unique broach. A violinist or pianist
must only summon the mastery needed to squeeze emotion from four bars to prove
an impact on listeners. These are only a few of the examples possible.
In the same way, a painter can simply isolate himself
(Because I’m thinking of myself, I’m going to use the masculine.) and ignore
the world outside. The only thing that matters is that canvas, and the only
goal is moving the paint around to create an object of beauty. In some ways, every painting exists in
isolation, an object alone, a new throw of the dice, a new pull on the slot
machine handle. Another important issue
is control; we the artists should, in the ideal, be able to control that
limited space.
Of course, the artist and all of his complexities are part
of the bargain. But this is positive. He
brings all of his life experience to the task of creating an object of
beauty. That task requires an immense
amount of effort. It can call upon the artist’s years of skill and devotion
that the he struggled to achieve. And it can also require the emotion, gained
through the achievement and suffering the artist experienced.
The benefits? If the
artist, me in this case, moves his work closer to an object of true beauty, he
lifts people up a few notches in their appreciation of sensitivity, delicacy
and – in a way – helps them move closer to using the gifts of our humanity,
like appreciating beauty, feeling emotion, and appreciating what the artist has
gone through to achieve his work. And
for the artist, he gains a psychic reward. He can tell himself that he is truly
appreciated for his work, and he may gain acceptance as an artist and maybe
even some recognition from a wider audience.
The paintings you see above are some of the city scenes I’ve
been doing lately. Frankly, not one of
them achieves anything close to perfection. My goal remains to continue my
progress in telling a story and impacting your emotions. However, these paintings do fit into my discussion
in one important way. When I paint, I do
cut myself off from the outside world as much as I can, and I do focus on the
canvas in front of me. But I can’t say that I achieve total exclusion.
If I had to define the style, I’d have to call it “natural.”
I try to let myself go and paint from my heart.
If I feel in the groove, and my hand keeps moving and spreading paint, I
accept it. I don’t want to overthink my work. Rather, I want to use my
emotions, and I mean this in a positive way.
More and more, the results please me.
For those of you who have visited my studio, you’ll
recognize the views from the windows. I
have to say that I had a stroke of luck with my studio, because some of the
scenes just outside the window are really pleasing. As always, I’d welcome your
input on the paintings. Just remember,
clicking once or twice on the image gets you closer and closer to it.
As always, I’d love to hear your ideas, which you can share
through this blog.
Thanks for listening.
Best,
William Kosman
Labels: urbanscenes