Saturday

I truly apologize for the light glare in the photo – there is glass over the top of the painting and there is no way to get a shot without some kind of reflective glare regardless of no-flash and low-light photography.

The truth of the matter is this: the textiles in this work of art are second to none. Say what you will of the composition, say what you will of the subject matter, say what you will of the colors and the execution of all of the above; the fabrics in this painting are some of the most exquisitely rendered textures ever captured in paint by human hands. Until you’re up close and can see the effects with your own eyes, you cannot and will not understand.

I have seen Old Master works up close and personally. I’m apparently descended from Hans Holbein (which leads to merry games of ‘spot the Holbein’ in museums wherever I go). I’m not talking out my backside when I say I know what a good cloth is meant to look like in paint.

I’m only cross that my photo doesn’t do it adequate justice so I can share the euphoric sense of wonder with you all when you realize it for yourselves.

Monday

To me, this painting symbolizes movement of all kinds: dancing, singing, gestures, walking, breathing, existing, growing. There is a simplistic kind of impressionistic expressionism that smacks of introversion and an inner turmoil that can only be explained by these childish slashes of paint that is very appealing and I love it. I see everything from growing flowers to a flamenco dancer in the lines and between the lines is a world of unexplored pleasure and pain.

Saturday

This particular gallery is a vast open space, as you can see from the first photo, with numerous works on all sides – the least of which being January, December, November. The gallery is part of SLAM’s newest expansion which is incredibly modern (made of concrete and glass) and a work of art in and of itself. The space feels as if it was purpose built to house this particular set of canvases, as you can see from the way they are displayed. If you sit on the bench closer to them, you lose the impact that comes from seeing them as a trio from afar – so in a way, the benches further back in the room are ideal for viewing.

January, December, November to me are very peaceful, relaxing, soothing pieces. They conjure up the static of old television sets, of the idleness of the mind creating dreams and conjuring desires in your sleep. They are an abstraction of idealistic, simplistic beauty, and I adore sitting before them and breathing them in like a healing balm.