Through the lens of Art
I can’t begin to say what, or how much, art has meant to my life, what it has done for me. I wish I could. The word “ineffable” seems accurate, as some experiences and emotions run so deep that any attempt to verbalize them will be futile.
I could’ve never imagined my life would go as it has in this regard. I had an interest in art from an early age, but I wasn’t exposed to museums, galleries or art books (that I can recall). However, I now find myself having spent most of my life creating. That seems impossible. It’s been an incredible blessing, not just in the good fortune to be able to do what I love every day, but in what it gives back to me in the hours I’m doing it. It’s a magical process, and I am still mesmerized by the trick.
But my time in the studio is just the tip of the iceberg. Art has given me museums and galleries, wonderful conversations, many friends, books, and travel. It has opened the world to me.
Why is art so important? One reason is because it has the capacity to express all the joys and horrors of being human. In every place humans have roamed, art has been made. Another reason is because it helps us process the world around us. Yet another is that it connects us to others.
Its been one of my life’s great joys to be able to see many places in the world through the lens of art. My travels are typically built around museums, studios and installations, and the more I see, the more I want to see.
A couple years ago, my friend Shyla was performing in a play at Yale Repertory Theater in Connecticut. A few of us flew out to see one of Shyla’s brilliant performances. I’d always wanted to visit the Yale University Art Gallery, so that was built into our time, and it didn’t disappoint. After Shyla’s final performance, we all hit the road to the Hamptons. We loved Dan Flavin’s work (of which I’m a huge fan) at Dia Bridgehampton, and before grabbing a lobster at Lunch, we took a tour of The Pollock-Krasner House and Studio in East Hampton.
Of late, I’ve come to think of my museum, gallery and studio visits as spiritual experiences, and I’ll talk about that in a future post. There’s some kind of magic, as humans, to be able to look at paintings and sculptures, but also studios, easels, tubes of paint, brushes, etc., and feel a deep sense of connection to another person or time. What is that? Whatever it is, it’s extraordinary. We have the capacity in some small way to feel what it feels or felt like to be someone else.
On this beautiful day, my friends and I stood on the floor of Jackson Pollock’s studio, the studio Lee Krasner used as her studio after Jackson’s death. Paint splatters everywhere, its impossible to be there and not feel their presence and the life they lived. As an American artist, it felt like a pilgrimage. As a bonus, I got to share the experience with my friend Dave Lefner (the incomparable reduction linocut printmaker), his wife Shyla, my high school art teacher and artist Doug Andrews, and his wife Denise.
Artists are known to get a little goofy at the site of other artists’ supplies, and I am no exception. I geeked out over cans of paint and brushes, all telling a story. Walking through the house told a fuller story, and I was happy as a clam.
If you have plans to visit NY, I highly recommend taking a few days to head out of town to Long Island and visit Dia Brideghampton and The Pollock-Krasner House. We had a wonderful time. Be sure to stop at Lunch for lobster while you’re there… you won’t regret it.
