Séraphine

On Sunday, I had the opportunity to see the film, Séraphine, with some friends as part of the Denver French Film Festival sponsored by Alliance Francaise. We began with a reception of wine and appetizers at the Tivoli’s StarzFilm Center. There I sat, listening to fragments of French conversation, occasionally understanding a random word or phrase. I decided then I need to get serious about learning the language. A short time later, we were seated in the theater as the room darkened and the film began.

Séraphine is the story of Séraphine Louis (a.k.a. Séraphine de Senlis), a self-taught French painter who wasn’t discovered until she was in her late forties by the famous art collector/dealer Wilhelm Uhde. The movie covers the period of her life from when she met Wilhelm in 1912 to shortly after 1932, when she was admitted into a mental institution. Along the way, we gain a better understanding of this complex character's quirky personality influenced by religion, a manic work ethic, a spirit freed through the outdoors and naïve painting punctuated with song.

Whenever I watch films about other artists, I always look for a common thread; something I can relate to in personality traits, motivation or process. In this particular film, there is a scene when, after she is discovered and begins producing work seriously, Séraphine begins sharing her work with those around her. Proud of her effort, she stands as an easel behind various paintings, gauging the reaction of whomever happens to be around at the moment for a series of private presentations. The camera shifts between Séraphine’s eyes beaming in eager anticipation of a favorable reaction to the facial expressions of her captured audience as they receive her work in a range of emotions from happiness to uncertainty, tolerance to astonishment, and indifference to sheer admiration.

I have had similar experiences. One of my favorite things to do is take JQ to the studio after a night on the town for a private showing. There, I select the right music to set the mood and place my work on an easel for her with the best possible lighting. I have also had clients come by to view the final product of a customized commissioned painting. I make them face the other direction or close their eyes until the work is ready to view to get the full effect. A positive reaction always touches me in a very personal way. It makes me realize how powerful art and the connection from one being to another is.

As I watched Séraphine, I was touched by her determination and knowing. She didn’t care what anybody thought of her work, save Wilhelm. She painted because that was what she had been told to do by her guardian angels and she was determined to listen to them. Though her peers considered her crazy for thinking this way, I believe she was very much in touch with what I can only describe as her intention, from a very deep and connected place. Her life was never pretty; often crude and awkward in fact, but her work was unquestionably beautiful and came from a place that had nothing to do with the external factors of her circumstances. I highly recommend this movie and give it five tubes of paint (based on a five tube rating system).

Feedback

Recently, I participated in The Art Students League of Denver’s annual Summer Art Market. I have exhibited and taken part in various festivals and events over the last ten years. Each event I participate in, I listen to the comments and feedback, for better or worse, which inevitably come my way. At this year’s event, I was very pleased with the feedback I received, not because it was spun any particular way, but because it was obvious people at least understood my creative intention.

After my experience at last year’s Artist Project in Chicago, I made a concerted effort to tighten up my approach in painting. This meant focusing on style and really working to render visually what was forming in my head. As somebody explained it to me, my paintings are becoming more focused. It’s nice to know when the work you put into something gets noticed.

References

Occasionally, I’ve been asked if I use photographs for reference or work from a live setting for my compositions. There have been times, particularly for my Narrative Series, where I have used photographs. I have also referred to them or worked on-location for various paintings within my ‘Scapes Series. If I do refer to photos, my time with them is always brief, relative to the painting process. I use them to understand visual relationships; to get a better idea how something works in terms of mechanics; to learn its relative size and how it might impact or augment other elements within the composition; to understand its energy so that I may transpose and project its essential visual elements through the painting.

Once I gain this understanding, I quickly do away with my original references as I feel staying with them for too long hinders my approach. The composition, to me, is more important than the accuracy of subject matter. Once I feel like I have learned what I need to from my observations, I then look toward my instincts to guide me the rest of the way in the painting.

Outside Insight

The woman stood just on the fringe of my artist booth, scanning each wall of my paintings from beneath her sunglasses at the summer festival.

“I really love your work,” she said.

“Why thank you very much,” I replied, flattered by her words.

She walked in closer to view the details of my work.

“Wow- there’s so much to these! I mean, if you get up close, there are patterns and great swatches of color, but as you step back it almost turns into something completely different. Reminds me of Batik.”

I had never heard of the term before and mistakenly thought she said boutique, not entirely sure how to respond. Was it some sort of floral reference perhaps? I was baffled and simply nodded my head, not knowing what else to do other than remain silent and assume she meant it as a complement. Leaving the tent, she smiled at me as I wished her a good afternoon.

Once she was out of earshot, JQ offered clarification over the comment. “It’s sort of a design within a design,” she explained.

After I got over my own ignorance, I smiled thinking how insightful the comment was. When we got home, I looked it up and felt gratified. The woman truly understood my intention, providing me not only with an affirmation that I am connecting to an audience, but a path of clarity through a new perspective.

Observations From The Summer Art Market

Over the weekend, I had the opportunity to participate in The Art Students League of Denver’s Summer Art Market, an annual art festival with over 250 artists from the Denver area. The last event I attended like it was over a year ago at The Artist Project in Chicago. It was there I was able to visualize how I wanted my paintings to appear. What, I thought to myself, does a painting by Jared Steinberg look like? As, I reviewed the paintings that hung on the walls of The Merchandise Mart last year, I considered my style, composition and subject matter, recognizing where I would need to channel my efforts to fulfill the vision. Looking over my booth at this year’s event, I noted the evident progress of my work while again acknowledging areas I need to address in order to advance my ideas.

Though I have been focusing on my style for the past year, it is the details within the presentation I now need to focus on. On the Saturday, the first day of the Art Market, I perused through the festival, paying attention to the other artist booths. I realized how the ones I really admired created such a captivating atmosphere through their presentation; from the format of the work, to varying degrees of consistency, down to the exhibition space itself- it became clear to me what I must do. I jotted down a few notes for reference and will be taking time this summer to put them into practice.

Apart from my selfish observations, I was truly amazed by the diversity at the festival this year: three-dimensional work, two-dimensional, pastels, paintings, drawings, abstract, grass-roots, contemporary, traditional, representational, floral, figurative- you name it, I saw it. All of which served to fuel a very high-quality, energetic show that I was pleased to be a part of.

Dream Into Action

As I continue to evolve as an artist, my creative path becomes clearer and more deliberate. Yesterday, I wrote about my experience at the theater which served to reinforce ideas I have been considering, as they relate to the future of my artwork. It is not my desire to simply make paintings. I want to create work that will make people stop in their tracks and forget where they are… if only for a moment. I want people to stop and take a breath; to find a space where they can meditate on a given work. I realize this may not be a unique desire. Certainly this is what many artists hope to achieve through their craft, however, I am beginning to understand just how I can make this happen.

I want to create an experience for the viewer; an escape to lose themselves in; the same type of trance I discussed in my recollection of the play. The art is the hook to achieve this, of course, but I believe there are other factors that can contribute, as I draw upon my other skills and interests. Through the hands of an artist and the discerning eyes of a judge, I am working to combine the actor within me- to sell the illusion of the art- while the musician creates energy and movement, and the writer expresses the passage through a story or poem. The experience will be enhanced by the pristine conditions of a well-staged space with proper lighting.

So, there is the thought. The intention I put out. I am excited to send my words into action.

At The Theater

Amy called me yesterday with an extra ticket to the theater. I gladly accepted the invitation. It had been so long since I attended a show, I didn’t even think to ask what was playing. We arrived at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts with just enough time to park the car, pick up the tickets at the box-office, walk up the stairs to the fourth floor, catch our breath, and find our seats.

In the two minutes we had to spare before the lights dimmed, I looked around the expanse of the Ellie Caulkins Theater. The stage set before us with giant lush-red curtains flowing down to the ground. Moments later, they would pull open like hands from our eyes, marking that instant of surprise to reveal a simple, effective set design. I observed the theater’s shape. The intentional placement of wood, lights and beams. The dampened acoustics creating a sanctuary of silence. Everything crisp and well thought out. The lights dimmed and I delighted in the atmosphere as the focus gravitated toward the stage.

The performance was a one-man act that grew on me as it progressed. After the characters were established, the movement of the story became more fluid, and an array of impressions ensued along with the selling of the act itself- all took their time to weave a spell that transfixed me in the end. It was an impressive ninety-minute monologue that clearly won over the rest of the audience too. The lights came on and we all stood up and applauded as the actor returned to the stage to soak it all in.

Amy and I departed at a leisurely pace, roaming to explore the sculptures and giant murals that adorned the theater’s periphery. This is what it’s about, I thought to myself. The care and attention to details! Everything was about the presentation- from the exterior architecture, to the lobby, to the heart and soul of it all – the stage and performance itself. And because of that, the experience had an impact. I considered my artwork- where it’s going, what I want it to be and went on to think about possibilities…