I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
Month: December 2016
A few weeks back the headline news in this country was all about a painting that sold at auction for a breathtaking $ 11.2 million dollars.
Now it’s pretty easy to say the sale of Mountain Forms by Lawren Harris – member of The Group of Seven – was the greatest testimonial to the man’s talent.
There are also those who speculate that this major feat (more than doubling the amount paid for the last record-breaking Canadian painting) will throw the international spotlight onto our vibrant cultural scene.
But, fact is, the majority of us don’t view art as this sort of commodity. Most, or many, of us do not purchase art as a financial investment, but rather as something that will brighten up the living room decor, add colour to our lives, and make beauty readily available. Even those with deeper pockets, and who chose art as an investment, generally, purchase a painting first for its visual nature.
Before looking at a price tag, a painting must appeal to the senses (first of all the eyes) and then to the emotions. Art must capture our imagination in some way, like hoar frost or a vast starry night. Colours, composition, subject and style, yes, it is all important, but the pure gut instinct of whether we like it or not is more based on a feeling than anything else.
The amount we spend on art isn’t even directly related to how much we love it. I have many pieces collected through the years, of many different values, but my true favourite was painted by a five-year-old, and it is priceless.
Art is subjective and, in so many ways, that is also its beauty. One piece will not appeal to two people in exactly the same way. Art allows us to think, whether abstract or impressionist, and it takes us to places outside of our everyday three-dimensional lives.
The moment a value is attached to art, the moment it is commoditized, perceptions are altered. No longer do we ask ourselves whether we like it or not, we begin to wonder instead if it really is worth the asking price.
In no way am I saying that art does not have a financial value. In fact, money is crucial to supporting the arts and the artists, but there cannot be an expectation that a painting will steadily increase in value, or will fluctuate like stocks and bonds. We cannot expect that Canadian art, as a brand, should now ride this exciting wave of commercial viability.
The art scene here will continue to prosper and grow, as art does, reflecting the personality and the climate in which it is created. There will still be legions of painters who eke out a living or a sideline business selling canvases for $300 – $900 (or much, much less) from the walls of the local coffee shop. This is work that is original, and viable, and available.
And yes, there are some (but far, far fewer) artists capturing tens of thousands of dollars for their images and imagination at privately-owned fine art galleries.
But, all of a sudden, multi-million dollar masterpieces will not be any more common now than they were last year or five years before that.
The only expectation we should have of art is that it affects us, in some way. It’s only then that we know its worth. We should not buy a painting only because we think it might make us money, we should simply purchase the art because it makes us happy.
Posted on December 14, 2016 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
Morning sky
opens to opportunity.
Try to discover what
can’t be articulated. If
there is a conversation
you’ve been avoiding,
that’s the conversation
you need to have.
j.g.l.
Should we not know
Gemini Moon,
resilient in its presence,
continues to inspire.
Comfortable amongst
the clouds,
with both a purpose
and intent for survival,
even in
harsh circumstances.
j.g.l
People walk in and out of our lives,
each of them carrying with them
a message. We learn about them,
but more about ourselves, in the
way we accept that message;
words that may not even be
relevant at that time.
Then, years or days later, the
thoughts come back to us as
insight and inspiration.
Take a little more time with people
as you meet them and learn a little
bit more. Everybody can teach you
something. I know I’m still learning.
j.g.l.
Mondays are just young Fridays
I’ve been thinking about painting, a lot.
I used to paint. I used to paint a lot. At
one time I might have even considered
a career in commercial art, then a camera
had its way with me and I chose to follow
another path.
Still I painted. I painted once in a while
or occasionally, but not enough to really
see if I could paint as well as I thought,
or as well as I wanted.
I even told myself that painting was what
I would do when life slowed down a bit,
or when I retired from doing whatever it
is I was doing.
I would paint when I had more time.
In the past I painted with watercolours
and acrylics mainly. I dabbled in oils, but
oil painting is for serious artists. Now, I
know the technique (classes helped) and
understand the time it takes to work with
oils, but not having the time I never
ventured further.
I’ve even described myself as a latent oil
painter. Lately, I’ve had difficulty allowing
the thoughts to remain latent.
A character I have been working with is
a painter, a fine artist, an oil painter at
that (I said earlier that oils were for the
serious). I’ve been seriously editing (even
rewriting) the manuscript, and in doing so
find myself again fascinated by how she
paints, how she sees, and even how she
approaches her art. I remember writing
the original scenes and was then, as I am
now, inspired.
I even thought, at one point of the
process, of working on a painting as I
was writing, to further get the feel of the
paint and the rhythm of the brushstroke.
I stopped myself, knowing, or feeling, I
did not have the time. I knew it would
take away what I was really working on.
But still, especially now, I want to paint.
I probably should paint. I think I need
to feel something else, I have ideas and
thoughts I need to let out. I even have
some sketches.
But do I have the time?
I have more editing to do, I have more
writing to do, I have commitments, and
deadlines, and I’m not sure I have the
time or space to indulge this feeling or
this fantasy.
Or maybe that is just an excuse?
Don’t we all have things we want to do,
but never make an earnest effort to find
the time? Instead we find excuses.
What’s your excuse for not doing what
you want, or think, you should be doing?
j.g.l.
