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“Urinal, you are” fountain “, and on this fountain, I will build my art! “(Christine Sourgins, Mirages of Contemporary Art, yet to be translated in English)

Well, I have read Christine Sourgins’ Les mirages de l’art contemporain and, OMG !, how she whines – a true complainer. A “gilet jaune” (yellow vest) of French culture! But, believe me, the book is also brilliant, especially, the fourth part “The sacralization of contemporary art”. What a beautiful intellectual workout! Excellent inferences. Neologisms. Short phrases. Lapidary sentences. Some with no subject, no verb, no predicate.

Let’s get right to the heart of the matter. The book has three main sections: a) the first three parts; b) the fourth part; and c) the epilogue, which contains a “brief history of Financial Art”. In my opinion, this book is now a classic that you need to get, proof of its re-editing in 2018. Let’s hope for an English translation very soon. The whole presentation is very good. She offers short conclusions at the end of each part. And finally, a table of contents at the beginning of the book that breaks the French tradition. Enough about the form.

As for the author, whether she admits it or not, Ms. Sourgins is a “retired” Catholic, but a believer – as we can notice in Part IV. I believe that Mme Sourgins is also Marxist since she values ​​the artist’s “manual work”  (a necessity), that of the proletarian; the capitalist being the “great Satan of capitalism” (an example among others pp. 28-29 ). Ms. Sourgins is prudish because she considers that all art with any type of “body discharges” (déjections) is only a futile and a useless provocation  — so is it art? Ms. Sourgins lives in the past because she advocates the heyday of art. Also, she remains attached to the French franc when talking about prices —5 million francs seems much more expensive than a million euros for a work of art. In short, Ms. Sourgins is at the same time provocative, tough, conservative, cultured, and very smart.

Ms. Sourgins draws first her sources from French journals, mostly Art Press. Her book is, therefore, Franco-centric. As if New York City had not already “kidnapped” Paris – she loves the past. “The era of great explorations is over,” she writes, “no more America to discover, no moon to discover”. The artists she mentions are French first, European after. Likewise, she keeps referring to renowned art exhibitions, those that have become milestones in the field of contemporary art.

All along, the tone is acerbic, which makes reading a little annoying. As if she has had enough of contemporary art and the “heretic” Marcel Duchamp, whom she blames for all the artistic jumbled mess that we have known since the end of the 60s. Ms. Sourgins also discusses the most rebellious, expensive, and abject works of art done by provocateurs who knew how to make people talk about them. She bites the hook.

The book’s introduction and its first part are absolutely to read, reread, underline. She presents the book by telling a brief history of modern art. I agree with her that there was an “artistic schism” in the early 20th century, the Dada Duchamp being the bad apple. I believe that we need heretics. If it took Luther to reform the Church, it took Duchamp to split the comfort zone of easy-going art, the latter about the “retinal” and the “sensitive”. She writes: “Contemporary Art is not an art that arises after a break-up; it is the “art” of rupture. In other words, a refusal of art attached with a refusal of time.”

A little further, she asserts that contemporary art is totalitarian, in the sense that “everything is art” – again Duchamp’s fault. Contemporary art is also authoritarian (hégémonique) since it is invading the planet because of the globalization and the internationalization of markets. I say that there is nothing we can do about that reality and that is how it is. The Internet has changed the world as the press did in Luther’s day. Without the printing press, there would be no Reformation.

Let’s move on in quoting Ms. Sourgins concerning the characteristics of contemporary art to further emphasize her acrimonious tone: “subverted beauty, revulsive beauty, an end of harmony, abject art, mutant art, lawless law, pedophile art, torture art, necrophilic art, suicidal art, the avant-garde of crime ”. But it doesn’t stop! It’s exhausting to read. And worse, we are “grappling with contemporary art”. There’s nothing we can do and it’s too late! All these descriptions are well developed, enhanced, illustrated with judiciously chosen specific cases, to support her conclusions.

The second part rather establishes the relationships between the French State and contemporary art, “absolute official art”, “black hole” of culture, “State opium” (Marxism again!). The author reports impressive figures (for us North Americans), revealing the heaviness of the French administration: there are twenty thousand visual artists and twenty-two thousand cultural officials in France (p. 114). Imagine if this were the case in New York State, California, even in Canada! Finally, on page 122, an optimistic subtitle, “The social benefit of contemporary art”. Finally, an emotional break. I can relax. I read. But no, Sourgins falls back into whining by recounting a few cases where contemporary public works have failed to generate well-being in the community.

Let’s go on. She describes how contemporary art is now “attending pre-school” in France by practicing the “let the little children come to me” (p. 139) – she knows well her New Testament (Matt. 19-14). The elementary schools welcome “little ones to philosophize and to play politics”, the usual drawing lessons being put aside. I argue the contrary by saying to Mme Sourgins that it is necessary to teach drawing AND also the rules of contemporary art, AND also to make known “the heretics” to the children of primary schools. Duchamp is not the only heretic. They were many in the course of art history.

Walk the Arts’ conclusion

In short, I could go on and on to recount Madame Sourgins’ whiny whims, but it is time to conclude. She is accurate to write that the pleasures of culture are “delayed joys” which require cultural awareness and some knowledge. Visual arts, like all cultural expressions, reflect the society and the times in which we live. Walk the Arts’ artists are aware of what is being done in the field of contemporary art, good or bad. It is up to them to choose whether or not to venture into the contemporary department. But it is important to acknowledge that there is no turning back. Contemporary art is here to stay.

That said, in her book, Christine Sourgins only shows the dark side of contemporary art. She claims that contemporary art has “killed the art of the past”, an idea with which I strongly disagree. For me, contemporary art is just its mere continuation. We have to recognize the bright side of contemporary art. Contemporary artists do not aim to destroy the sacred, human sensibility, universalism, timelessness, and transcendence. Quite the opposite when I think of Bill Viola’s “sensitive and sensual” works, which originate from the Italian Renaissance or Neo-classical art. And what about the paintings by Kehinde Wiley? Cecilia Brown’s? Damien Hirst’s The Treasuries of the Wreck of the Unbelievable, which I talked in a previous post. Hirst’s treasuries were all inspired by Antiquity and… all made by “machines” (we replace you, proletarians!) Yes! the work fooled the international community amassed a fortune (a capitalist work), and we have to agree the work was clever, beautiful, transcendent and universal.

Ms. Sourgins does not appreciate the audacity of provocative artists, those who earn or who have earned lots of money, to wonder if money is to be despised, capitalism to be destroyed (Marxist idea). If Hirst, Murakami, Clemente, Kapoor are millionaires today, so much the better for them. Monet was living extremely well in Giverny at the time of his death. Cézanne too, despite his Nietzschean choices. And what about Picasso with his provocative Demoiselles d’Avignon? In America, earning money is well seen. Over the days of good old Christian resignation; “we have to know how to carry your cross” and “we were born for a little bun”! Ms. Sourgins is part of a reactionary Parisian clique facing contemporary art still living in the nostalgia of a Paris dating to the Second World War, where the pigment dominated the canvas when we were still enjoying the plonk drank on the Grands Boulevards. Damn you, New York! “Crucify her! Crucify her! – well, I’m Sourginizing!

If I had to compare this work to that of Nathalie Heinich (The paradigm of contemporary art)? The two are very intelligent essays and they go hand in hand, they complement each other on your bookshelf. But I prefer Heinich, neutral, dispassionate, scientific, who relates without pleading, without judgment, not to say Catholic moral judgment.

YL.

By the way, we do not drink “plonk” during our painting workshops Italy and France.

Thanks to everyone for your kind messages during these challenging times for all. Throughout the years more and more we realize that many of our lifelong friendships have been built around our workshops. Yes, we are doing well here in the Ottawa countryside. Life can indeed change in a nanosecond! Three weeks ago, we were having drinks in Cartagena with our friends of Studio Colombia Art & Eat. A few days later and for the first time in 20 years, we had to cancel our annual trip to New York City.  And now, our beloved summer art workshops in Italy and France are on standby. But this crisis affecting each and all of us will pass too. In the meantime, what is most important is to keep healthy, busy and creative.

As you already know, I am an art historian professor and art teacher. During our summer painting workshops in Europe, the great immortals of art are always there inspiring my instruction. Alberti’s Della Pittura is essential for teaching a good subject matter, Brunelleschi for perspective drawing, Monet for colors, Picasso for letting go, Duchamp for the importance of the concept, and so forth. I have always said that art history knowledge and art practice go hand in hand. Now we have been told to stay inside, to self-quarantine, to live a moment of solitary confinement, in our own monastic cells.

This brings back memories of medieval philosophy and de facto to Giotto’s frescoes done in Assisi depicting the reclusive life of Saint Francis, and of course, the beautiful works on Saint Francis himself, in meditation, by Zurbarán. It also revives the interconnectedness among history of religion, art, and society. When teaching art history classes to my much younger students, some thought I was crossing the threshold of the political correctness when I was talking about religion. They didn’t realize that their basic genetic fabric was based on religion (Edgar Morin, La Méthode 4 Les idées). For this reason, they keep marrying in churches, later baptizing, and respecting the boundaries of pictorial rectitude when they paint. But that is another story.

In this time of “self-quarantinization”, I am also thinking about all the monastic rules (regola) established since the last fifteen centuries, many of them founded after a pandemic of some kind: the Benedict Rule, the Carthusian Rule, the Franciscan Rule among many other. Despite their origins and differences, most promote contemplation, self-imposed discipline and silence all aimed to accomplish the great “Work of God” (Opus Dei). Let’s see this pandemic as a propitious time to quit this whirlwind of vanity and consumerism. A moment of silence and meditation so needed for our well-being and our own great human work (Opus Humanum), no matter what it is. During times of self-isolation, Boccaccio wrote his Decameron, Shakespeare wrote Macbeth, Newton theorized his theory of gravity and so on.

In our studio, at our easel or our desk, the time is right for deepening personal truths, so essential for future artistic endeavors. The time is favorable for revamping our own publications including our artistic statements and websites. The time is appropriate to devote ourselves to serious art readings. In brief, a time to search, a time to find a new equilibrium.

But this isolation is temporary as we all need to live in the community for emotional, social and economic reasons. Knowledge has to be spread. So, let’s enjoy this moment of solitary confinement to refine our ideas, so later we can share them. Covid-19 will be part of history!

Many years ago, during a trip to Florence, I discovered the luminous paintings by the Macchiaioli at the Gallery of Modern Art in the Palazzo Pitti and immediately felt connected to their painting approach. Since then, I always say to our plein air painters of our art workshops in Italy, that both flourishing and accomplished artists can learn a few lessons from them.

The Macchiaioli were a group of Tuscan artists active during the 1850s, through the time of the Risorgimento (Italian unification). They first met at the Caffè Michelangiolo on via Cavour in Florence and shared similar political and artistic views. Their aim was to break from the academic tradition and experience the painting of light as it unveiled itself to their eyes by applying the “macchia,” meaning patches, or blobs, of colours. Often compared to the French impressionists, the Macchaioli preceded them by more than a decade. Also, while the French impressionists were working on the solid grounds of scientific colour knowledge, the Macchiaioli’s approach was purely intuitive. The leading figures of this Italian movement were Giovanni Fattori, Giuseppe Abbati, Cristiano Banti, Odoardo Borrani, Vincenzo Cabianca, Vito d’Ancona, Silvestro Lega, Raffaello Sernesi, and Telemaco Signorini.

So, what can the Macchiaioli teach us during our painting retreats in Tuscany? First, with a few quick and candid brushstrokes we can achieve paintings full of freshness and ease. Let’s try to do that. Look at the scene, build our colour palette, let go and capture the essence of the moment.

Second, the Macchiaioli’s pictorial subjects were simple and a manifestation of their everyday life and feelings. In order for us to be authentic, we need to paint who we are and go straightforwardly to what we experience in our everyday lives: our personal stories, the issues that profoundly touch us, our strong beliefs—all these are magnificent subjects waiting to be painted. Moreover, as spectators, we see reflections of ourselves in others when we find that they live what we live.

Finally, the “macchia” technique (to juxtapose the coloured shapes dictated by the subject, lit in the same way as it is presented to the artist’s eyes) evoked atmosphere and emotion. Simply look, experience, and paint the colour unveiling in front of your eyes. For example, if your eyes see a purple tree, paint it purple; paint the colour you see, not the colour you know.  And paint it quickly, because that colour is fleeing very fast. Scoop and apply your paint—hence the word “macchia.” Approaching your canvas this way is to approach your painting “empirically”; meaning that your painting derives from the experience that you are living at any particular moment.

Certainly, a few rudiments in colour theory are essential. Also, it is important to become more aware of the reflection of the light on the objects during your daily walks. We want you to be aware; we want you to cultivate a sense of colour as did our Italians while painting the Tuscan landscape. Colours, with their endless combinations of hues, shades and tints, are simply emotions recollected in the tranquillity and serenity of the moment.

Scroll down for French and Spanish translations.
Défilez vers le bas pour les traductions en français et en espagnol.
Desplácese hacia abajo para traducciones al francés y al español

It always comes down to the notions of intention, knowledge and choice.

2020 already!

And we are again confronting ourselves as we choose our new year’s resolutions. Of course, in this challenging era of climatic change, we all know that we must reduce our carbon footprint. We need to reduce our plastic use, walk more, bike more, take public transportation, etc. But we know already that. We are all also aware of the importance of keeping healthy. We must lose a few pounds, increase our cardiovascular capacity, eat well, etc. So, what can I add to what we already know? Then, let’s talk about our artistic new year’s resolutions.

How can I become a better artist in 2020? How can I take my art up a notch, only a single notch? It may be landscape painting, abstraction, modern or contemporary art. We must accept the fact that, as an artist, we can always get better. But what do we mean by “better?” That is another question worth of many posts. However, I would say that we can get better if we are aware of the three basic foundations of art: intention, knowledge and choice. OK! We have the intention! We certainly want to be better artists. Now let’s talk about knowledge.

How can I increase my artistic knowledge during 2020, so my art becomes more particular, more distinguishable, more authentic, more profound? For 2020, I will try my best to accomplish the following list:

1. Dare!
2. Dare to state without fear.
3. Be energetic, motivated and industrious.
4. Hold excellent novels. Read the yearly Nobel Prize, the Booker Prize, the Prix Goncourt, the Cervantes Prize, etc.
5. Participate in the world.
6. Listen to silence; walk in nature.
7. Visit more museums.
8. Visit “my” museum in a more active manner; for example, visiting one or two rooms and taking notes for future ideas.
9. Having this notebook.
10. Travel!
11. Take an uplifting class or workshop, may it be in art history, philosophy, painting, etc.? Even literature because let’s not forget that stories that link us all.
12. And most importantly, love.

Let’s conclude with the notorious notion of choice, our famous Nietzschean choice. Am I going to adopt all 12 propositions, or a few, or none? It is up to me. It is up to you. Happy New Year and looking forward to living together with a meaningful art experience!

L’Art, Vous et 2020

Tout revient aux notions d’intention, de connaissance et de choix.

Déjà 2020 ! Encore confronté à soi-même quant aux résolutions du Nouvel An. Évidemment, en ces temps de bouleversements climatiques, nous savons tous que nous avons l’obligation de réduire notre empreinte carbone : réduire de manière importante l’utilisation du plastique, marcher davantage, emprunter le vélo et les transports en commun, etc., mais nous savons déjà tout cela. Et encore, au risque de répéter, perdre quelques kilos, améliorer son niveau cardiovasculaire, bien manger, et ça aussi, nous le savons. Donc, pour ne pas radoter, parlons de résolutions de Nouvelle Année qui réfèrent à l’art.

Comment puis-je devenir un meilleur artiste en 2020 ? Comment puis-je élever mon art, ne serait-ce que d’un cran ? Importe la forme d’art : la peinture de paysage, art figuratif, l’abstraction ; art moderne, art contemporain. Cela bien posé, il faut accepter le fait qu’en tant qu’artiste visuel, nous pouvons toujours devenir meilleur. Mais qu’entend-on par « meilleur » ? Là, une toute autre question, et y répondre prendrait des pages et des pages. Je crois, et là c’est personnel, je crois que nous pouvons devenir meilleurs dans notre discipline si nous sommes conscients de trois idées fondatrices de l’art qui sont celles d’intention, de la connaissance et du choix. OK ! Nous avons l’intention, celle d’améliorer notre art, de devenir un meilleur artiste. Dirigeons-nous maintenant vers la connaissance.

Comment puis-je approfondir ma connaissance artistique en 2020 pour que mon art puisse s’approfondir, devenir plus particulier, distinguable, plus authentique ? Voici une humble liste.

1. Oser ! Toujours oser !
2. Oser dire sans avoir peur.
3. Être motivé, énergique et assidu.
4. Tenir d’excellents romans. Rendre obligatoire la lecture annuelle des prix Nobel, Goncourt, Booker, Cervantes, etc.
5. Participez au Monde.
6. Écouter le silence ; marcher dans la nature.
7. Visiter davantage de musées.
8. Visiter « son » musée d’une manière plus active, en visitant qu’une ou deux salles en prenant des notes dans son carnet d’idées.
9. Posséder ce carnet d’idées.
10. Voyager.
11. Suivre un cours ou un atelier qui élève que ça soit en histoire de l’art, en philosophie, en peinture, voire la littérature, car ne l’oublions pas que ce sont les histoires qui nous unissent.
12. Et encore plus important, aimer.

Concluons avec la fameuse notion du choix, du fameux choix nietzschéen. Adopterais-je les 12 propositions avancées ici, ou quelques-unes, ou aucune ? Qu’à vous, cette décision appartient. Bonne et heureuse année 2020 et au plaisir de vous rencontrer pour vivre ensemble une expérience de l’art.

El Arte y Usted en el 2020

Al final siempre se reduce a las nociones de intención, conocimiento y elección

(traducción por Ginny Marquez-Tamara)

2020 ya! Y de nuevo nos confrontamos a nosotros mismos al escoger nuestras resoluciones del año nuevo. Por supuesto, en esta desafiante era de cambio climático, todos sabemos que debemos reducir nuestra huella de carbono. Debemos reducir nuestro uso del plástico, caminar más, andar en bicicleta, tomar transporte público, etc. Pero ya nosotros sabemos eso. Estamos también conscientes de la importancia de mantenernos saludables. Debemos perder un poco de peso, incrementar nuestra capacidad cardiovascular, comer bien, etc. Entonces, que puedo añadir a lo que todos ya sabemos? Hablemos de nuestras metas artísticas del año nuevo.

Cómo puedo convertirme en un mejor artista en el 2020? Como puedo llevar mi arte a un nivel superior? Puede ser una pintura de paisaje, abstracta, moderna, o arte contemporáneo. Debemos aceptar el hecho que como artistas siempre podemos mejorar. Pero que queremos decir con “mejor?” Esa es otra pregunta qué vale la pena de muchas publicaciones. Sin embargo, yo puedo decir que nosotros podemos ser mejores si estamos conscientes de los tres cimientos básicos del arte: intención, conocimiento y elección. Ok! Tenemos la intención! Definitivamente queremos ser mejores artistas. Ahora hablemos sobre el conocimiento.

Como puedo incrementar mi conocimiento artístico durante el 2020, para que mi arte sea mas único, más distinguible, mas autentico, más profundo? Para el 2020, intentare lo mejor que pueda para realizar la siguiente lista:

1. Atreverse!
2. Decir claramente sin miedo.
3. Ser energético, motivado e industrioso.
4. Leer excelentes novelas. Leer el Premio Nóbel anual, el Premio Booker, el Premio Goncourt, el Premio Cervantes, etc.
5. Participar en el mundo.
6. Escuchar al silencio; caminar en la naturaleza.
7. Visitar mas museos.
8. Visitar su museo de una manera más activa; por ejemplo, visitar una o dos salas y tomar notar para futuras ideas.
9. Mantener su libreta de notas para escribir ideas.
10. Viajar!
11. Tomar una clase o taller edificante, puede ser en historia del arte, filosofía, pintura, etc. Hasta en literatura, porque no olvidemos que las historias nos conectan a todos.
12. Y más importante, amar.

Concluyamos con la notoria noción de elección, nuestra famosa elección Nietzscheana. Voy a adoptar todas las 12 resoluciones, o pocas, o ninguna? Eso depende de mí. Eso depende de ti. Feliz año nuevo y anhelo que podamos vivir juntos una experiencia artística memorable!

Back in 1997, during the very first days of Walk the Arts painting workshops in Tuscany and Provence, I would paint with the group. After a couple of years, I came to realize that I was not fully dedicating my time to my budding artists. Indeed, teaching art requires concentration: detection-correction-suggestion. Moreover, it requires the ability to understand the individual needs and expectations. And with our groups of eight students, rest assured that I do not stop.

When prospective travelers are calling us for their future painting workshops in Italy or in France, they want to know if the instructor is qualified and ask to see some of his works. We are extremely aware of the importance of this issue. So let’s address it immediately.

We “are” extremely qualified, the reason why our art classes and painting workshops have been accredited by universities and colleges in the US, Canada, and Singapore. We also fulfill the Art Teacher recertification requirements.

Let me try to explain this using the pyramid chart above. It shows the art skill level distribution of participating artists of our art workshops in Italy and France during the last 12 years – yep! we keep track of everything.

Of course, a bit more than half of our participants are “beginners”. They want to feel the joy of creation and tend to travel with a sense of mission and accomplishment. Every morning, at 9:00 a.m. we teach them the rudiments of plein air painting, perspective, colour theory, and much more. As for our “intermediate artists” seeking to push forward their art, they attend these morning classes always saying, “Wow, this is another way to learn what I was taught at art school”. As for the advanced students, they see our art class as a refresher course. And incredibly, our BFAs and MFAs, say, “Eh, we never learned that at the university.” As for our established worldwide renown artists (such as Vicky) and our university graduates (Kim), very well locally known, they see our workshops as an art retreat, a time to reflect upon their new series while conversing with us. It is a reason we also had a few “writers in residence”.

During our workshops, we enjoy not only having participants of all levels but also working in different art styles, from realism to abstraction. It is true that some high realist painters hesitate to embark with us. They want to know if the instructor is as realist as they are, and we are not. But this does not prevent us from helping them to explore their own creative path. Can they advance their realist skills during one of our art workshops? Yes. Knowing that all techniques are available on YouTube, we push the discussion on realism, by inviting them to paint that fraction of a second of their lives. To depict that very short fleeting moment that makes that life experience so “real” and intense. This can also be done through the landscape or the imagination.

But most important, what is also gratifying for us at Walk the Arts, is that we all become teachers. Levels 1 and 2 guide levels 3, 4 and 5, and so forth going down this pyramid of learning. Sometimes, I am just a moderator, someone who facilitates the distribution and the meshing of information. This also happens during our candlelit, long gourmet dinners, and our two positive and constructive group crits.

Moreover, over a glass of wine or Prosecco, we have a few art theory and art history PowerPoint presentations which are impossible to find on the Internet. Why? Because these lectures are novel, they are the product of academic research and teaching experience. These talks are not pretentious as some may think, but down-to-earth for good comprehension.

To conclude. Our long years of experience in the studio and in classrooms and our various diplomas make us believe in content. We all want new content and not mere repetition.

So why do we attend a painting workshop?  We attend a workshop to learn from each other, share our passion, live a art experience and enjoy the power of knowledge through creation. This is what we offer at Walk the Arts.

And by the way, our workshops are for everyone, even if you are not an artist, just someone to enjoy Italy, France, and South America.

Val d’Orcia (2019) > Expressive, done with the “let go” philosophy. Was painted between two workshops, just before the storm. It is a one-hour painting on location (30 minutes looking and mixing colors + 30 minutes applying the paint).  An extra 15 minutes at the studio after the oil was a bit tacky. I do love Phtalo blue, but it is Ultramarine that I recommend for Europe.

Requiem VII (1986) > Done many years ago during the Reagan years. Very realistic with a strong political message.

We have been reading that more and more travelers from the developed world are looking for meaningful travels. Increasingly, we are aiming for journeys that allow us to learn something new, to deepen our culture, to enhance our lives.  Purpose, inspiration, and self-discovery are now vital elements in our traveling choices.  Probably, this is why our quality painting workshops offered since 1997, have become more and more popular. During the last years, we have realized that our art experiences are a kind of fantastic art summer camps for adults. Sort of Outward Bound experiences, but fostering creativity and cultural immersion. This has also been expressed by many of our past participants, both artists, and non-artists.

One of our former participants wrote to us about the “totality of the experience embracing rigor”. It is true because Studio Italia, as all our painting workshops such as Atelier Provence and Studio Colombia (ART & EAT), offers an exciting and tight schedule that allows you to return home with the deep and rewarding feeling of having accomplished something.  “In-depth learning about art, art history, and art theory,” wrote another participant. Also true because we are aware that everything can now be found readily on the Web (read our post), therefore, we cannot simply rehash first-hand information. Yes, we do help everyone to reach their desired colors and shapes, but through other much more meaningful ways.

At Walk the Arts we aim to surpass easily-found knowledge on YouTube such as how “to mix your greens”, even “how to paint an Italian landscape”; and if you can learn the latter in a video, why attending a painting workshop in Tuscany?  This reality has encouraged us to become a conduit of art knowledge, not a mere repeater of it.  The money you spend during an art workshop has to be equivalent (if not more) to the received service: “under-priced” wrote someone else. We want you to return home with a sense of well-being.

The building of catwalks between distant art ideas is extremely important to us. These relationships are being constructed through “interaction”, “philosophical views”, “harmony”, “great conversation over candlelit dinners”, “gourmet meals”,  as written by some of our emerging artists. We even wrote a book on our recipes.

Yes, indeed Studio Italia, Atelier Provence and Studio Colombia are great art summer camps for adults since you will find:  in-depth art instruction and knowledge, daily expeditions (not on rivers, but in museums and historical cities), campfires (but around the fireplace with red wine),marshmallow roasting (in reality wine and cheese tastings), physical activity (painting in front of your easel, walking in beautiful cities, climbing in the van and the Uffizi staircases in Florence, etc.), and great huge meals (not with pizza and Kool-Aid but with gourmet cuisine and wine) …and more important, new lifelong friendships and many paintings worthy to be hung on prominent walls of your house.

We aim to offer our participants a fulfilling art experience for the two following reasons: first, we believe that creativity is a transformative force that can work wonders in our lives. Second, we believe that the democratization of art can lead to the betterment of our societies. This is our mission!

I imagine this famous scene of the post-coital cigarette seen in so many movies: the couple of a one-night-stand against the bed headboard, under the sheets, in the dark, intertwined by the fumaroles of a cigarette. It’s over. They seem jaded. “Well, that’s it. Goodbye, I’ll call you. ” Nothing more. It was fast. He puts on his trousers and exits the room and so does the other person.

Here is another version of the same scene, but that exists between two lovers. But here, against the bed headboard, on top of the sheets interlaced; everything is slower, we discuss, we laugh, we talk about the construction of the last minute and also, the future. We think. It’s uplifting.

It’s the same for painting. Too many times, in my painting classes and painting workshops, I have met students and “artists” who after finishing a painting live a feeling of emptiness as if the painted subject only aroused a slight satisfaction, nothing more. However, just before doing the painting, these painters had said that it would be interesting to do this or that, “here is a challenge”. As soon as the work is completed, they say, “Well, what am I doing now? A moonlight? A door scratched by time? A pot of geranium on a windowsill? A chickadee? “Checked! Done! And now what? “. And comes the linearity of an enumeration of painted subjects. Oh! I saw so many artists who lived this “pictorial post-coitus” (PPC)!

Does this PPC void occur because the artists cannot identify emotionally with their own works. Perhaps because these works do not reflect the artists’ identity or what their vision of life is?

Fortunately, there is also another post-coital work. Once finished, the artists are satisfied to have pushed their work a step further, and yet we speak here about the same painting subject. After they finish, they are already thinking about their next painting, which will be inspired by the one recently completed. “Well, how can you push it even further, to make it stronger? “Henceforth the need to work in series, because it is only the series that allows this kind of reflection, hence the circularity, the holism of creation, a reflection of the universe. We welcome a reality that preceded us on which, now, we must work. This series of works of art on the same theme becomes in a way the partner of a long moment, even for life; I am thinking here of Murakami’s work with his memes, or of Ron Mueck dealing with human fragility or Banksy’s social comments. Doing a work of art is like making love. There is the passion of the moment, the abandonment of time, two beings becoming one flesh that expresses through harmony and circularity… and not linearity.

We agree that a completed work can bring a great sense of boredom, even disappointment, or a sense of euphoria that encourages pursuing a career as an artist. We have a choice; “Well done! What do I paint now as my next subject? Or “WOW! How can I push this canvas so it becomes better and more complex in the reflection of my time and my life?”

Currently in Europe; Studio Italia has ended, about to start Atelier Provence. One of our blog subscribers, a docent at the National Gallery of Canada, recently finished reading Michael Findlay’s Seeing Slowly; Looking at Modern Art (Prestel Publishing, 2017), and noticed that there was maybe a link between what he had just read and our recent post on time. He proposed us this text, and we said “why not” since it deals exactly what we try to do at Walk the Arts, letting go in plein air painting through authenticity. Of course, the text is indeed interesting. After an stimulating exchange, here is the final text. Thank you and to you, Robert Sauvé.

Here’s a curious paradox: stopping time by painting quickly. Can one set a trap to catch the moment’s impression? Can the artist’s canvas trap the beauty and the wonder of observed events which melt all too quickly in the flow of time? Can time be halted?   Yes, says Michael Findlay, obviously, this is what artists do. So too, the viewing of art requires “halting” the flow of time. This is the key idea of Michael Findlay’s reflections in his latest book on art appreciation. Time seems to stand still for viewers who dwell on works of art in a slow and measured way (i.e. longer than the average ten or so seconds per painting that galleries have measured as the visitor viewing time). Only then can a different and more personal viewing experience emerges. It takes time to appreciate the ‘plein air’ artist’s mission to grab that moment. The authenticity of the artist’s “capture” slowly emerges as one’s eyes, feelings and imagination dwell on a  work of art. It takes time for the viewing of art to become an art viewing event; such an event is the gold standard of a successful art gallery visit.

The impressionist’s spontaneous painterly reaction suggests that his work is quickly done with the goal of holding still a view of the moment.   Getting the sun, the shade, the light … in a word, getting nature’s mood just right at that moment.   No time to lose.   At any moment one risks losing that mood.   Skill, technique and confidence are key, but so is spontaneity … and speed.   And for this to occur one has to fully let go, even to forget who he or she is. One has to be in the moment to get it on the canvas as quickly as possible.   We know, for example, from artists such as Monet and Pissarro that in any one morning many such grabs were done — as the sun moved, as shadows shortened, as clouds drifted in.   Monet’s Rouen’s Cathedrals or the Gare Saint-Lazare series give witness to this compelling attraction for the moment.   For the Impressionists the goal was not so much to generate a series of paintings as it was to get the feel of the moment just right, to be authentic; their main objective was to trap an ephemeral ‘impression’, to grab the moment, to grab the uniqueness of “that’ moment, a painterly carpe diem.

What the artist does in one manner (i.e. by quickly capturing an ephemeral perception) is mirrored differently by the art viewer (i.e. a more leisurely focus enables the welling up of the mood of the moment captured by the artist). In this way, the beholder who slows their viewing time can “grab that moment” as well.   They would be able to appreciate the impressionist’s skill and confident execution by simply reversing the process – by letting the spirit of the artist’s capture emerge in its own good time. This takes time.   Findlay tells the story of a young girl preferring to sit at the centre of an Impressionist exhibition explaining that she would rather let the colours come to her rather than her go to the colours. Later she would gravitate to the paintings that sparked added interest. But first she was taking her time, letting the pictures, the images, the stories, the colours come to her.   She put aside all the prior agreements of how art viewing should be done.

For Findlay, art viewing ought not be an exercise of sorting visual experiences based on art-viewing conventions. Rather, we have to set aside frameworks of interpretation.   And for that to occur, we must believe in ourselves; we must tame whatever feelings of vulnerability that can arise when setting aside the security blanket of frameworks of understanding.   Letting go to let-in the work of art is also an acquired habit… and that too takes time!   “We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are,” Anaïs Nin writes (Findlay’s book p. 52). As we gaze at works of art, we are also gazing within ourselves.

Findlay’s Seeing Slowly is an important reflection.   It is also a rewarding read for those who want to have a full and rewarding art experience.   The spontaneous paintings of plain air artists and the slow viewing of gallery visitors complement each other. In their ways, each strives to be ‘in the moment’.    And for the art viewer, that ‘moment’ is the threshold where the labyrinthine adventure begins — slow art viewing and self-exploration go hand in hand. (Robert Sauvé)

Confronted with the landscape, the artist needs to surrender to nature in order to truly express on canvas the unique emotions and feelings resulting from this challenge. Here, Zoe letting go in the Val d’Orcia during our painting workshop in Tuscany Studio Italia.

Recently I finished reading an excellent book about time by Carlo Rovelli, L’ordre du temps (Flammarion, 2018) also translated into English: The Order of Time. Well written, in a simple manner, the author was able to tame my artistic nature allowing me to enter one of the most complex questions of physics, the notion of time. I bought the book because as I get older, time seems to go faster and faster. After reading it, I have learned that time doesn’t exist. Time, as we know, is a mere human construct.

Maybe it is a coincidence, but last week I went to the screening of …and Suddenly the Dawn ( … Y de pronto el amanecer), a wonderful movie by Chilean director Silvio Caiozzi (the man in the image above). It is about an old writer, Pancho, returning to his hometown in Chilean Patagonia in order to find inspiration for his next short stories (seen here as a boy in image above). There, he is confronted by his own past, and he must rethink his life. I sat through the whole three hours and plus, as if time disappeared, and Rovelli’s came to my mind.

The notion of time as Rovelli’s defines it is well underlined in the film. On the one hand, often we see the movement of the clock, the endless mobile phone calls and the screen of the cellular phone; on the other hand, we saw the juxtaposition of Pancho’s memories, traces and emotions. Throughout his book, Rovelli invites us to understand that time per se doesn’t exist. This because among other reasons, the world, in the sense of what we perceive as reality, is composed of “events” and not “things”. In order to demonstrate his train of thought, the physicist uses the example of the stone and the kiss:  a thing (a stone) lasts in time. If I put a stone on my desk, tomorrow I can check if it is still there. An event (a kiss) is a happening; it is the product of an interaction that is limited in space and time. Tomorrow I cannot look for a kiss that happened just now.  Therefore, the world is made of networks of kisses, not stones. He also says that time is manifested not through the Tic Tac of a clock (in the movie), but by the entropic nature of the world, simply physical “changes”, such as the growth of animals and plants and the changes of the physical body (also in the movie).

My post is not to summarize Rovelli’s work, but to make a relationship between art and time, hence my question to Sylvio Caiozzi, the movie’s director who was present during the screening. After a needed preamble, I asked, “ … therefore, your movie is a succession of stories. Señor Caiozzi, what is time for you?” He was a bit cut short after so many questions that dealt with the logistic of the making of his film, but his answer reflected so much Rovelli’s book. He said more or less: “You saw the presence of a man-made time, the hands of the clock, the cellphone, but also I wanted to show time through the juxtaposition of Pancho’s physical and emotional changes. There are no flashbacks in the film; what we see is Pancho’s imaginative revival of emotional past events as he thinks and writes about them in the present moment”. And, slowly, introspectively, he kept answering the question in a highly philosophical manner. We could have discussed a bit more, but it was late, and the public was desperate to taste the empanadas and the Carmener offered by the Chilean embassy in Ottawa.

To conclude, if time is a juxtaposition of events, “a network of kisses”, the manifestation of the world in constant changes, why so many “artists” always paint the same subject, the same shapes; repeat the same colour schemes, the very same stories, the…?  John Baldessari was tired of repeating, the reason he did the lithograph I Will Not Make Any More Boring Art (in the image above, with the chickadee).

Which comes back to my post on repetition. After 40 years, Pancho returned to his native Patagonia to confront his fears, his feelings, his old relationships, the network of events that shaped his identity. And he found many answers in the little village and the old friends whose aspirations had not changed much. This is a good lesson for us as artists searching to innovate, to break with old patterns, to make art that is more personal.

Ultimately, does the mystery of time belong to us, to whom we are? Are we Time?