Light, it seems to me, is more than a range of colours visible to the eye.
I am a sucker for an art exhibition. Sometimes I get to see small local events of maybe a local art group showing their work, other times it is a major exhibition in one of the bigger cities. It could be paintings or photographs, or as was the case recently, works in glass. It could be a small one-person gallery show or the finalists of a major photography competition. It could feature large canvases or small items of jewellery. They all have the potential to excite me... or not. I've tried to work out what it is about the things that excite, the quality that makes them so attractive, and conversely why it is that some things leave me unmoved.
A recent visit to the International Festival of Glass was a wonderful experience, especially the sculptural work exhibited at The British Glass Biennale. Some of the works on display were exquisite. The combinations of light and colour and texture and form were very uplifting, indeed moving. I've been similarly touched by paintings and photographs too at different times. Sometimes I'd see a piece that had me standing and looking at it for several minutes, not analysing the composition but simply enjoying it for what it was.
I think I was first aware of this more-than-meets-the-eye effect at a small gallery in Moose Lake in Minnesota. A photograph of some old fishing buoys, paint peeling off them, leaning against a fence had me staring and enjoying for quite a while. It was inspiring and made me want to create work that would similarly inspire and engage with the viewer.
I have a print of a watercolour on my wall at home which I enjoy looking at. It's a large piece depicting balconies overlooking the Grand Canal, and sometimes I'll look at it and try to work out the order the artist applied the different washes. I've dabbled in watercolour at times, enough at least to realise that less is more and that the results on my print give a great sense of depth of shadow and texture of brickwork while remaining clean and simple.
That's one of the drawbacks of having tried a particular art form yourself. You find yourself trying to work out the order of washes in a painting, or the position of lights in a studio photograph. I find the same thing happens with fused glass now that I've taken up glass work again in my spare time.
It isn't simply the combination of colours of light that are important in an attractive art work. It's not even the depth, and the texture, or the contrast. It's a combination of these and other things and then some. That 'some' is the mysterious quality that brings the whole work to life and pleasure to the viewer. The energy of the artist captured in the art work and conveyed to the viewer. It's exciting whatever it is.
1 comment:
That mysterious “some” quality you speak of is so intriguing and encourages me to explore more deeply just what it is that draws me to a creative endeavor, whatever the art form. I like your articulation of this connection with, “The energy of the artist captured in the art work and conveyed to the viewer”. Interesting, too, how this draw can evolve, affected by my emotions at any given time, as well as perspective gained through life experiences.
Post a Comment