Blog Archives

Pearls from artists* # 626

With “Narcissist,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 28.5” x 35” framed

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

Being an artist and a woman has never been easy. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, leading male artists – tackling five-meter-high marble sculptures and covering entire chapels with frescoes – were often termed ‘virtuosi,’ while women, simply by virtue of their gender, received neither the acclaim nor the opportunities. As time progressed, attitudes did not: it took until the end of the nineteenth century for women to be allowed to study the nude from life. Linda Nochlin has described this deprivation as though a medical student was denied the opportunity to dissect or even examine the naked human body.’Even today, the contribution of women artists tends to be missing from history books and museum collections. It wasn’t until 1976, when feminist art historian Nochlin and Ann Sutherland Harris’s touring exhibition, Women Artists 1550 – 1950, opened at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, that women were even acknowledged as having contributed to 400 years of art.This show kick-started the scholarship, still scant, that we have on these twentieth-century artists.

Katy Hessel in The Story of Art Without Men

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 398

Negombo, Sri Lanka 2013

Negombo, Sri Lanka 2013

* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

Marcus Aurelius asks us to note the passing of time with open eyes.  Ten thousand years or ten thousand days, nothing can stop time, or change the fact that I would be turning seventy years old in the Year of the Monkey.  Seventy.  Merely a number but one indicating a significant percentage of the allotted sand in an egg timer, with oneself the darn egg.  The grains pour and I find myself missing the dead more than usual.  I notice that I cry more when watching television, triggered by romance, a retiring detective hit in the back while staring into the sea, a weary father lifting his infant from a crib.  I notice that my own tears burn my eyes, that I am no longer a fast runner and that my sense of time seems to be accelerating.

Patty Smith in Year of the Monkey

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 183

West Village

West Village

* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

Part of what makes snowfall in a city magical is the way that muted sound and the sight of buildings and cars draped in whiteness go together.  If we’re not too worried about missing appointments, we feel the excitement of moving into a new place where none of the old clutter and racket of our lives has arrived. 

In Pursuit of Silence:  Listening for Meaning in a World of Noise by George Prochnik

Comments are welcome!