Tag Archives: Rembrandt

As Escher Sees Eagles

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EscherEagles6691Osprey or Fish Eagles Yellowstone      click to enlarge

M. C. Escher was a Dutch artist who created fantastical images of staircases twisting and turning back onto themselves, repeating patterns, hands drawing each other, many scenes of an architectural bent (No pun intended… maybe ) that make you dizzy when you try and follow the lines through the pictures, and multiples of repeating patterns, such as fish gradually turning into birds as your eye travelled over the image. His style of art was based originally on architectural features he found on buildings in Italy when he traveled there. He is kind of a famous art  guy whose work you will recognize immediately whether you know his name or not.

It is unclear whether Escher spent any time at the Calcite Springs overlook in Yellowstone, him being a Dutch guy that rarely left Europe, but had he, he would have seen this view and I’m pretty certain it would have sent his little neurons firing themselves into a frenzy with all the possibilities for creating new work.

During my research I was unable to ascertain if Escher had extensive knowledge of Fish Eagles or Osprey as they are better known here, but I’m sure he would have added them to his drawings just because they are so cool looking sitting there. If I ever run across the guy in a future life and I can speak Dutch I’m going to check that out.

I think I’m on to something here. I think spending time in Yellowstone is more than just photographing the occasional grizzly or wolf. I think there might be sights and experiences here that will stir your imagination in other ways, so I’m going to keep my eye out, figuratively speaking, for other examples of art that may be hidden in this incredible place. In fact I heard that there is a girl working at the Food court at Fishing Bridge visitor center that looks just like that girl who Rembrandt painted, the smiley face one. I’m going to go check that out.

Chiaroscuro

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Chiaroscuro0661Canyonlands                                                                 click to enlarge

Chiaroscuro in the canyons. Chiaroscuro is one of those words artists like to throw around to show how much they know about art and you don’t, and like French cooking, Vichyssoise is still a soup made from leeks, onions, potatoes, chicken stock, and cream despite how you pronounce it. As soon as you know the definition the mystery goes away, snotty waiter or not. Chiaroscuro in its simplest definition just means light/dark, in Italian anyway. And when it comes to art, who you gonna believe, the guy down the street or an Italian like Caravaggio. I’m betting on Caravaggio.

This Chiaroscuro is an effect that drew me at an early age to appreciate art. I didn’t know why but I knew I liked the look of those dark spaces with the central light-filled areas glowing with colors of gold and silver and Ivory reflecting from helmets and swords or fancy chandeliers. And other colors such as the deep, deep reds of velvet and the glow of porcelain colored skin were a fascination that has held up through the years and affects my work on a constant basis.

The southwest seems to have been created with the definition of Chiaroscuro in mind. The spring and fall when the light is changing, especially during the morning and evening hours, is spectacular at worst and overwhelmingly, breathtakingly beautiful at best. Can you imagine the type of paintings we would have if Rembrandt had been able to visit the southwest. How about “The Night Watch” only using warriors from the Chiricahua Apaches in their full war regalia against the deep rich colors of the canyon walls. It makes me want to paint.

My eye is drawn to the interplay of light and dark constantly as it was when I was just a child figuring out what I liked about this art stuff and the canyons provide me with endless subject matter. Only now I can create my own Chiaroscuro images in the click of a shutter and I do.

Monet’s Coyote

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MonetsCoyote4454Click to enlarge

It is a little known secret that I was a frustrated wannabe painter. In fact for years when I was sculpting I used to tell people that I was a sculptor because I couldn’t paint. Later on in life when I had reached a stage where I made grandma Moses look like a freshman cheerleader I went and took lessons from a well known plein air painter. She told me that after she trained me to hold the brush with the bristles towards the canvas and how to get the cap off the paint tube with out redoing the walls, that I might have potential. I defined potential as “No way in Hell” but I persevered. But in my persistence a funny thing happened, not funny in a grab your sides, milk coming out of your nose kind of way, but strange. Funny strange. The more I painted the more I loved paintings as an art form and the less I liked actually doing it. It turned out that I really loved sculpting after all but because of the lifelong dreaming of painting thing I viewed it more as a job rather than a soul satisfying art form that occasionally made me money. That realization however, did not diminish my obsession with the 2D art world. We artists talk like that, 2D, paintings or flatwork, as opposed to 3D, sculpture, it makes us look a lot smarter at parties and stuff. I had traipsed through most of the big museums and galleries here and in Europe and had a catalog of my favorite painters and their work in my head, and when I began photographing in earnest I was always looking for that Monet shot or the light in Rembrandt’s chiaroscuro work. It is surprisingly hard to find in real life. Rarely does chiaroscuro jump out at you when you turn the corner or the subtle light of Monet’s gardens happen every time you get ready to take a picture. But sometimes it does. And when it does, and you get to shoot it, it is like when someone comes up to you and says “I think you are quite the splendid fellow, here’s several million bucks. Take the rest of the day off”, that kind of feeling. That may not have happened to you yet but when it does, are you going to be happy. This image of a coyote in a meadow at Sheep lake in Rocky Mountain National Park was one of those times when Monet’s spirit was at work. If he had been a wildlife artist he would have painted this and been a happy man, just as I was for being able to have seen it.