Tag Archives: Cincinnati Art Museum

Goldening

There comes a time in late August, every summer, where I take note of a slight shift in the light in and around things.

This is a visual thing, having nothing to do with temperatures, which at this time of year in our Ohio River Valley, tend to be a bit stifling.  But this goldening is not due to heat, rather more to the timing of things.

The school buses are making their routes now around the neighborhood and all things garden seem to be leaning less green, more gold.

Along my runs, the light has a certain slant to it that I love.

By night, even if it’s hot outside, I crack the window, just a bit, to hear the crickets and tree frogs sing.

I am not prone to being hermetically sealed indoors.

I’ll admit to having this blog post brewing for days now, but to being a bit tangled up inside my heart about ‘what to write’ and  ‘how to put it’ and ‘shouldn’t I just be painting?’, while none of these question/options seemed to fit.  The world, (this country specifically) is going mad of late and to respond off the cuff doesn’t seem enough.  To not respond is even worse.  And so, in typical slow-cooker fashion, I have been mulling it over.  And over.

I so admire the microwaves in our modern culture.  The JK Rowlings of the world who are so quick witted and can take down nay-saying haters in a heart beat with a single tweet.  Alas, I am not cut of that cloth.  I am a slower cooker, a crock-pot, one who stews.  Someone who mulls over things and then re-mulls again in the wee hours (this can be a tortuous prospect).  But eventually, I’ll occasionally put my two cents in if I feel strongly enough and many times, my commentary is late to the game.  But here it is anyway.

It’s been a week since the horrifying events in Charlottesville, Virginia and I am as heartbroken today as I was when they happened last week.  Unlike some of my fellow middle class white friends, these marches came as no surprise to me.  In fact, the election of President Trump came as no surprise to me either last fall. (I mean, c’mon, I live in Ohio). I may be a white girl, but I grew up a poor white girl, on food stamps, raised by closeted lesbians, and let’s face it, I can still smell trouble when it’s brewing.  Our country has been a proverbial tinder box for awhile now, possibly since the election of Barack Obama, and perhaps it was only a matter of time before the white rage hit the stage.

The thing about being an artist, writer, thinker, dreamer in this world is that, much of the time, we must hold two ways of being at the same time.  On the one hand, it is my job to rise above the fray and make stuff and think up stories and paint pictures and play tunes.  To bring joy.  On the other hand, it’s often the artist-writer-thinker-dreamer types who forge necessary change in the world.  How to navigate?

On the Book of Faces the other day, an old friend quipped, ‘a lot of self-righteousness here on FB, overflowing, wallowing in it.’  While I had not shared much over there regarding recent events (#slowcooker), he may have been right to a certain extent in that the quick shares just didn’t go deeply enough.  I decided to opt out of that platform for a few days and do some deeper digging into what thinkers and writers were saying elsewhere. Here is bit of what I came up with along the way:

At our local art museum, there is a work I have visited a few times and plan to see more before it goes away again called More Sweetly Played the Dance, by William Kentridge.

While this came together well before the events of recent weeks, I feel to witness this work of art is to begin to take on part of the narrative going on here in our own country (though it hails from South Africa, where racial narrative is fraught with peril as well, different though similar).  The work is brilliant, and beautiful and really difficult to sit with.  It involves many senses and asks many questions.  And if you are in the Cincinnati area, I recommend spending some time with it.

The Southern Poverty Law Center posted their guide to navigating these tumultuous times (see link above) and there is a lot of good information there.  We can all start somewhere.

In Boston today, I am seeing reports that a hundred white supremacists are on the march, but in opposition, are 15,000 counter-protestors.  This gives me great hope.

As someone who likes to operate in ‘woo-land’ a bit (you know, magic and metaphysics, fairies, crystals, etc.) I think there is still responsibility in the day to day lives we live in ‘normal’ time.  Layla Saad of Wild Mystic Woman over on Instagram posted a very powerful letter on her website, the first part of which can be found HERE.  (second part is forthcoming).

She asks hard questions and asks those of us in any place of privilege to really question our place in this world and how we came to it.  I think it’s brilliant and well worth reading.

I could go on.  I like to think the good outweighs the bad in this world but perhaps that is my privileged perspective.  I think we must be diligent never-the-less.  History has taught us that the bad can come barreling at us out of nowhere if we are not watchful.

In yoga class yesterday, we talked of stress.  I made a light-hearted comment that the news is stress enough.  A woman in class remarked that there are ‘many sides’ (many sides?? seriously??)  to the news these days and we can not always believe what we see and hear there.  She left rather abruptly.  I wonder if she was a Trump-supporter perhaps.  I only know that I don’t watch commentary.  I read articles from good publications.  I watch and listen (even though it sickens me) to the statements of this current administration.  I make my own thinking from there.

I also attempt to move beyond the News of Now and steep myself in broader, bigger thinking.  I’ve been reading books and articles by Martin Shaw  which I love.  There is a really good interview with him on a new-ish podcast called The Lumieres Podcast.

We must feed our minds with good sentences.

John O’Donohue is another thinker whose words resonate just now:

OUR POWER TO BLESS ONE ANOTHER

In the parched deserts of postmodernity a blessing can be like the discovery of a fresh well. It would be lovely if we could rediscover our power to bless one another. I believe each of us can bless. When a blessing is invoked, it changes the atmosphere. Some of the plenitude flows into our hearts from the invisible neighborhood of loving kindness. In the light and reverence of blessing, a person or situation becomes illuminated in a completely new way. In a dead wall a new window opens, in dense darkness a path starts to glimmer, and into a broken heart healing falls like morning dew. It is ironic that so often we continue to live like paupers though our inheritance of spirit is so vast. The quiet eternal that dwells in our souls is silent and subtle; in the activity of blessing it emerges to embrace and nurture us. Let us begin to learn how to bless one another. Whenever you give a blessing, a blessing returns to enfold you.

~John O’Donohue

And this from David Whyte:

VULNERABILITY

is not a weakness, a passing indisposition, or something we can arrange to do without; vulnerability is not a choice, vulnerability is the underlying, ever present and abiding under-current of our natural state. To run from vulnerability is to run from the essence of our nature; the attempt to be invulnerable is the vain attempt to become something we are not and most especially, to close off our understanding of the grief of others. More seriously, in refusing our vulnerability we refuse to ask for the help needed at every turn of our existence and immobilize the essential, tidal and conversational foundations of our identity.

To have a temporary, isolated sense of power over all events and circumstances, is a lovely illusory privilege and perhaps the prime beautifully constructed conceit of being human and most especially of our being youthfully human, but it is a privilege that must be surrendered with that same youth, with ill health, with accident, with the loss of loved ones who do not share our untouchable powers; powers eventually and most emphatically given up, as we approach our last breath.

The only choice we have as we mature is how we inhabit our vulnerability, how we become larger and more courageous and more compassionate through our intimacy with disappearance, our choice is to inhabit vulnerability as generous citizens of loss, robustly and fully, or conversely, as misers and complainers, reluctant, and fearful, always at the gates of existence, but never bravely and completely attempting to enter, never wanting to risk ourselves, never walking fully through the door.

~David Whyte

May we find ourselves vulnerable in these tumultuous times.

In coming days there is to be a great shadowing of our sun.  May we find secrets behind and within those shadows.

May we find ways of transforming the leaden weight of our current time into something more golden and worthwhile…….

I am preparing a fall show about which I am nervous and excited.  More on that soon.

Next summer is shaping up with a few announcements which shall come along soon.  Ginger Small is polishing her eclipse-wear and I hope to have a drawing to share with you tomorrow.

Wherever you are, keep your eyes on the stars and sky, but perhaps keep your hearts closer here to home, where we might all strive to make the world a better place.

Til next time……

Update:  Here is the drawing of Ginger Small and friends, ready for the eclipse!

 

 

Art Date

I didn’t plan a blog post for my outing today, so I have only a few photos to share.  But share I will!  I spent a bit of the afternoon today at the Cincinnati Art Museum, a place with which I am, sadly, not familiar enough.  Perhaps I’ve shared a chronic and increasing fascination with painting, and I think that is what drew me to the museum today.  I wanted to study Real Paintings.  Up close and personal.  I wanted to look for brush strokes and curious color choices and to think on how they made those paintings, so long ago.  And so I did.  Here’s what I found…..

There was simply too much to take in.  I can’t pick a favorite, though I do find the sheep herding painting by one Anton Mauve, to be especially fetching.  The paintings I found myself most drawn to were those with a quality of light in them.  So many of them just glow in a way that seems otherworldly.

Although I had my sketchbook with me, I pretty much walked around with my mouth half open just looking, taking it all in.  Next time I go, I might draw this guy’s hand…. because it’s beautiful.

Playing Catch Up

It’s hard to believe sometimes how time flies.  I know that sounds pretty cliche’ but there it is.  20 days have gone by since our country’s miraculous election and things have been rather busy round here at Chez Bogard.  Busy is good.

Yesterday I took a friend of mine to the Cincinnati Art Museum to see Madcap Puppet Theater’s production of The Firebird. This show was done in the style of shadow puppetry using light and flat puppets to create the illusion of space.  What was interesting to me about this particular production was the use of color.  The puppets were created with a heavy duty plastic and painted with the “stained glass” paints that are found at the crafty stores.  The effect was exquisite and magical.  Adults and kids alike at the show were enchanted.  Being a member of the Cincinnati Area Puppetry Guild, I knew some of the performers and got to go backstage after the show to see how it all works.  Unfortunately I did not have my camera with me but here is a shot from my phone taken during the post-show Q&A.

The holidays are officially upon us and they seem to come earlier every year.  Case in point, we had the Riley School of Irish Music‘s 3rd annual Peace and Merriment Concert on Saturday night.  We did it early this year to avoid clashing with too many other Christmas-ey shin-digs coming up and also to coincide with the end of fall quarter at the school.  Students and Instructors alike performed various holiday/ harvest related tunes and the audience seemed to enjoy themselves.  I hid in the back row of the ceili band performance and played my tunes as best I could.  Stage-fright is less and less an issue with me as time rolls on, but I still am not keen on the idea of playing in front of people.  Below is a shot of some of the Riley kids who are not shy about playing for people.  They pretty much rock, those kids!

As Riley School finished up, it occurred to me that a number of things are freeing up precious time for me in the coming weeks.  The Carnegie Center has changed its regular Family Saturday activities from Dec. 13 to Dec. 6  to accommodate a participatory arts day planned for that day.  I won’t be able to make it that day so  I’ll see all of my regular Family Saturday folks again in January!  Meanwhile, this past week was my final class for the semester at the Art Academy.  I am slated to teach the class again in the Spring, Feb 21- March 6. (6 weeks this time!)  I will post details for registration when I have them.  My hope is that I will have some returning students next time who will keep pushing the limits of tending their sketchbooks. Spring will also be a perfect time for taking any interested students slightly farther afield for a day (or 2?) to practice their sketching skills.  I have for some time entertained the idea of leading a travel sketchbook course.  I have a handful of folks who have expressed interest in participating and so I’ve begun to make plans.  I will be sure to post any destination ideas I have here and would love any feedback or requests for fun places to visit and draw.  Anyone up for Madison, Indiana?

So with some extra hours available to me I plan to play in the studio with wax and clay, reacquaint myself with my own neglected sketchbook (update my Daily Dog collection), and perhaps finish a pair of socks I have been knitting for far too long.  I have a new heater in the studio which should help take some of the chill out of the space (thanks to Dave for that suggestion!)

Although I haven’t been too active at the wax table in recent weeks, I have been working on some clay tiles I plan to install as a back splash in our new kitchen.  I am making them in pieces which will eventually come together to create an artistic take on the foot print of the Ohio River in our region (approximately from the Indiana border out to Maysville, Ky, a favorite river town of ours).  Kudos to my kayaker hubby for that brilliant idea.  It seems to be turning out nicely….

Last but certainly not least in today’s post, some wonderful doggie news:  The puppies have graduated out of their kennel and are now sleeping upstairs with us at night!  For some months now they have had the run of the upstairs hallway when we would leave the house.  They just chill out on their beds in Tony’s office and wait for us to come home.  At night however we were still putting them into their kennels to avoid morning chaos.  Last week we decided to try putting them to bed upstairs with us after a long walk to see how they would do.  Amazingly, they did great!  They have learned fairly quickly to just lie down in their beds when we are in ours and that just because we get up to go to the bathroom, doesn’t mean they need to get up too. (Caskie learned this years ago and likes to sleep in Maddie’s room).  It’s working out wonderfully.  During the day, their recent favorite hang out is in the kitchen…. sprawled out on the heated concrete floor!