I'm unbiased when it comes to schools: school of thought, school of expression, school of life and learning. I have no loyalty to any school in particular. It's whatever works. At that moment in time. What you're drawn to. What you need to communicate and how you need to express it. Of course, I go through obsessions where I'm greedy and hungry for more.
Van Gogh sends me into a period of near-insanity as if his spirit somehow touches me through his art. With the same drive to do more and the same attention to detail; those details that others don't capture or miss, like the movement of waves or the motion in skies. Nothing is flat. Possibly because of that everything for me gets intense, and yet despite the over-focus Vincent brings into my life, I still enjoy re-visiting and discovering works of his I haven't seen. There are many.
Monet is for when I need calming and Magritte for when I want to inject some surrealism. When life already seems unreal and so any art of this genre won't hurt it further. In general, there's so much and too many artists to name-drop. There's something for everybody in an artist's portfolio, as, naturally, you don't have to be ecstatic about every single piece ever produced. You like what you like. You don't what you don't. Some you grow to love or dislike. Some suit a time or a purpose and then outgrow it, which you could say was like our dealings with people, though some , I know, would think that remark was callous.
When art's been captured, it's gone. Gone for the artist at least, whether they feel it's been caught to the best of their ability or not. Whether it says what they want it to. I use the words 'art' and 'artist' loosely because I apply them and that sentiment to any form. Most, if not all, artists move on to their next fancy once their current obsession has been exhausted or dies, or return to recapture it later at a later date when they feel they might bring a different perspective or experience to it.
But back to Rego. Dame Paula Rego. A Portuguese artist, who as I've confessed until last year I hadn't heard of. A fascinating candid woman, whose works of art are captivating and exploratory. That documentary was for me the best way to discover her because my engagement was enhanced by showing the two together: art and artist side by side, and in the making of. What a treat to see her at work in her studio! And her frankness with her son, the film-maker, as well as the subjects she touched upon was refreshing, though I got the impression she might not have always been so outspoken, especially not in her younger days.
Born in 1935, the shyness she claims no longer seems to exist, as so often happens in people who reach a certain point in life. Things that weren't spoken about are mentioned, almost in an off-hand manner, for that was then and this is now, and her art then, as now, was the vehicle to expression.
That's the aim of art isn't it? It should speak for itself, it shouldn't need an explanation. Yes, the thoughts behind can be revealing but so can the art itself. In a different way altogether. There can be a larger context at work, that not even the artist realised until the piece was completed, which then possibly inspires other works on the same theme or branches off to a new idea. Art has no end or beginning, whatever its form, because a completed piece always leads to another, even if it's just a slight change in the fall of light or shadow or as seen from a different angle. What all artists struggle with, as did Paula Rego amongst others before or of her time, and even now, is how much of your craft do you surrender to living? Because art, if you abandon yourself to it, removes you from the other roles you might have fulfilled.
Picture credit: The Dance, 1988, Paula Rego
