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Courage
Some artists operate on the level of pure courage. Courage, and generosity. Arriving at the Beaux Arts in Paris, in 1982, I observed a student working on a very big painting of a cage with pigeons. It was a stunning picture, loose, energetic, bold. The next morning, however, my new friend prepared a bowl of creamy colour, laid his painting flat on the floor, and poured the "soup" all over it, spreading it with any instrument to hand. I was both shocked and intrigued. I admired his courage even as I mourned the beautiful picture that was destroyed. The glaze was thick, and semi-opague. Then slowly, as the day wore on, he pulled a new image out of the rich chaos on his canvas, until at the end of the day he had an even better painting than before. I went home happy, but the next morning, there he was again, spreading the rich glaze over the entire painting, and slowly rebuilding it, even more beautiful. The method is one of building and destroying, slowly deepening the wonder and the mystery. I watched Didier work on his painting every day for 3 months, taking it back to chaos, then coaxing it back to life, until the last day came. Didier's last day at the Beaux Arts. I arrived early, anxious to see how he was going to set about finishing his great piece. He arrived, we had a chat, and he laid his canvas flat on the floor. I watched in confusion as he spread a generous glaze over it. At the end of the day, I helped Didier to carry his painting home across Paris. The painting was wet, unfinished, magnificent. The things we admire in art are the things we admire in life. Courage, determination, generosity, freedom. These qualities may live in the artist, but they are the work of art. When I saw Didier last year, he could not remember what happened to his great painting, but I do have one reminder of it. The painting shown here is one that I did while he was working, in the style, and it is one of my most prized possessions. The love of boats
There is something so satisfying about painting at water's edge. For the last month or two, a few of us have been meeting at dawn to paint in Kalk Bay Harbour, and talking to the fishermen, I was struck by their deep love of the sea, and of boats. They welcome us most graciously, accepting us into the brotherhood of the predawn. In the eighties, Adolfo and I painted tugboats in the old Cape Town harbour, until it was changed into a monstrosity called the Waterfront. When Anne and I got married, we did so on a small naval supply vessel off Simon's town. We planned it for the rise of the full moon, with two young girls playsing classical music in the stern, with my mom who had never been on a boat and does not know how to swim, braving the stormy weather. Anne's aisle was the long jetty in Simon's Town with me waiting for her on the Zest 2. Her exquisite gown, blowing in the wind, was an unforgettable vision, and out at sea, Chris had to perform a great catch to save her veil from blowing away. Boats rock. Figure painting workshopFrom June 30 till July 4, our figure painting workshop will take place at the Simon's Town Library. The Monday life painting course restarts on 21 July, weekly, going through into December, and the next workshop will be a course in pastel painting, from July 29 till August 1, four days, from 9h30 until 3. |
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