I’m seeing a Jungian. In his rather bleak waiting room he has a nice collection of art books. Most of the books are devoted to art of ancient peoples, Egypt and the rest of Africa, the Fertile Crescent, the Americas, typical shrink taste ; I like looking through them.
Today as I was poring over a book devoted to the old gods of the Nile, I stumbled upon images that drove me to distraction in my youth : nubile sky maidens arcing over ithyphallic earth gods.
I felt inspired to make a quick sketch, reversing the roles a bit in keeping with the Greek tradition . I finished the sketch at home, this is the result.
I wonder what the Jungian would say?
Sky Hovers Earth graphite and pastel on paper 11 by 14 inches
Although not the original inspiration, it is in the same spirit. I think it is marvelous.
Well, must dash, the spouse man’s train should arrive shortly, must pick him up at the station; i sound like a Connecticut housewife.
Given the extreme weather we have been experiencing recently :here in southern California, insanely hot summers and back home in NY and NJ, unheard of hurricanes, climate change has been in the thoughts of many. Even folks who I know to be staunch deniers of climate change are rethinking their stance that perhaps we have had an impact on Mother Earth.
My interest in Meso-American culture has me linked to numerous blogs and I recently received this post claiming the great civilization of the Maya collapsed due to man made climate change which resulted in a “long catastrophic drought”. The Maya civilization as many know was massive , a complex web of city states ruled by various lord/kings. As power was brokered, each lord would vie with one another in building massive elaborate temples, palaces and public building, all with the intention of giving expression to their magnificence. The architecture, rubble and stone in construction was given a fine white stucco finish. When Cortez and his men first encountered the Aztec they were dazzled, but this magnificence came with a cost.
According to a NASA Science News article twenty trees were needed to heat the limestone in order to create one square meter of plaster. Given the massive scale of these structures and the tropical climate which demanded incessant maintenance, that’s a hell of a lot of dead trees.
All of this course sounds and feels familiar to our own increasingly desperate situation. Clinging to a fuel that is outmoded and toxic to a planet we claim we love. We treat this planet as a resource, not something to be revered.
The Maya have been idealized by many as having been more attuned to the gods of the natural world, yet by their hubris they ignored the divine pleas for mercy. Ignoring the pleas had serious consequence. I’m hoping against hope we can learn something from the Maya, sadly I fear the worse. Whereas the Maya left behind enchanted ruins I fear we will leave behind the shells of big-box stores, McMansions and endless freeway system going nowhere.
“C” is for Climate Change.
“C” is for Climate Change watercolor on paper 11 by 19 inches
“C” is also for Cinteotl, a manifestation of the maize god. Usually depicted as a young man, golden in coloring and wearing a maize head-dress.
I stumbled upon an image of the young god with a distinct resemblance to Apollo. The statue is described as Huastec, 11th-13th c.A.D.
What is notable is his nudity, there are very few depiction of the human figure in its natural state in Meso-American art. Since I have a fondness for nudity he was a suitable model for my letter “C”.
Symbolism for life cut short played a factor as well, but mainly it was due to the fact that he was a comely young man.
I will be spending the remainder of my holiday catching up on readings and working a linoleum block (this time a Christian saint).
I had been planning on owls for “O” from the beginning, mostly because they re so darn cute.The Mesoamericans however did not necessarily find them as adorable as our contemporary society seems to find them. According to my ever reliable Illustrated Dictionary of the Gods and Symbols of Ancient Mexico and the Maya , owls were a mystical yet fearsome creature. Dwelling in dark caves, portals to the Underworld, owls were considered guides to dark mysteries and ominous omens of what lurked in the shadows.
As does western culture, owls were identified with the night, further cementing their connection to the supernatural.
To the Maya the owl represented fertility and death, this dual nature can be seen in the Popol vuh narrative: owls deliver the Hero Twins to the Lords of the Underworld sealing the Heroes doom and also guide the pregnant Xquic out of the darkness of Xibalba. This seems in keeping with the rather consistent duality of Mesoamerican mythic narrative.
The green owl was favored by the artisans of Teotihuacan, appearing in wall paintings, and according to the Dictionary over mirrors (I assume polished obsidian), the mirror itself representing a passage to the unknown. I was happy for the chance to use green as my accent color for this page of the Primer.
“O” is for the Owl watercolor on paper 11 by 18 inches
I mentioned that “O” was also for Obama, this is because I had intended to work on this painting during the presidential election last Tuesday. I had expect a long anxious evening ; I had hoped working would soothe my nerves.It was a stressful evening, but at some point the dominoes of fate starting falling in Obama’s direction; in no time at all it seemed as if my president would be given a second chance. I began to just feel incredibly giddy, something I have not felt in months. This election has been particularly stressful , full of vitriol and mean spiritedness ; when Obama gave his acceptance speech the little green owl on the branch smiled- and that is how I left him.
Hoorah for Obama, that is the cheer of this chorus of wise little owls.
So “O” is for the Owl and for the president, I can now exhale peacefully.
One of my inspirations for my owls was a funny little Halloween decoration from the 50’s-60’s , very familiar to American baby boomers . I always liked his green and orange coloring and his funny wink, I wanted to squeeze a reference of him into the painting. I hope I captured some of his goofy spirit.
Halloween decorations from my youth, mid-century.
I have been receiving notifications concerning the Alphabet Soup deadline at the end of this month; I thought I would enclose the following for inspiration.
The character of popular Southwestern/Mexican folklore La Llorona is familiar amongst Mexican Americans. When I requested information about the Weeping Woman, as she is popularly known, David’s Aunt Lydia fondly recalled the delicious childhood terror of the northern Arizona winds being described as the “cries of La Llorona”. Aunt Lydia was, as many youngsters were, advised to behave, or La Llorona would snatch her up.
Succinctly her tale is thus:
Although several variations exist, the basic story tells of a beautiful woman by the name of Maria who drowns her children in order to be with the man that she loved. The man would not have her, which devastated her. She would not take no for an answer, so she drowned herself in a lake in Mexico. Challenged at the gates of heaven as to the whereabouts of her children, she is not permitted to enter the afterlife until she has found them. Maria is forced to wander the Earth for all eternity, searching in vain for her drowned offspring, with her constant weeping giving her the name “La Llorona”.
In some versions of this tale and legend, La Llorona will kidnap wandering children who resemble her missing children, or children who disobey their parents. People who claim to have seen her say she appears at night or in the late evenings from rivers or oceans in Mexico. Some believe that those who hear the wails of La Llorona are marked for death, similar to the Gaelic banshee legend. She is said to cry “Ay, mis hijos!” which translates to “Oh, my children!” Source
“L” is for LaLlorona watercolor on paper 12 by 18 inches
It has been argued that LaLlorona is an incarnation of the much maligned La Malinche, Hernán Cortés’ guide, translator and romantic companion. La Malinche has been accused of having sacrificed her “children”, the native people to her lover and to the brutal tyranny of the Spanish empire. This is an easy assertion to make, but the historian Luis Leal believes that La Llorona has roots that date before the Conquest- hence her inclusion in this Primer of New Spain. Leal’s belief is that the Weeping Woman is not La Malinche but in fact the ancient goddess Cihuacóatl, the Serpent Woman.
Leal quotes Fray Bernardino de Sahagún‘s Historia de las costs de la Nueva España, describing the Earth /Fertility Goddess as such :
” …she appeared before men, she was covered with chalk, like a court lady. she wore earplugs, obsidian earplugs. she appeared in white, garbed in white, standing white, pure white. Her womanly headdress rose up. By night she walked weeping, wailing; also was she an omen of war.”
My desire was as usual, was to interpret this mysterious goddess through Western eyes, hence the stylization in the manner of the Artemis-Ephesus
Artemis Ephesus[edit]I have placed upon her head the helmet of a warrior, for before the time of the conquest the Woman-Snake, Cihuacoatl was called upon by women giving birth. Patroness of mid-wives, the soon to be mother was urged to call upon the goddess for strength. As described in the Illustrated Dictionary of the Gods and Symbols of Ancient Mexico and the Maya, she was of “warlike aspect” due to the fact that giving birth was akin to battle, ” Midwives exhorted women to call out to her in childbirth and to be as warriors in the violent expelling of the child from the womb”. I love that description, not a whiff of romantic sentiment to be found, just sound advice. Our goddess goes from benign protectress to demon after the Conquest which is not at all surprising. According to Leal, Sahagún considered her an incarnation of the devil, speaking to the conquered he describes her :
“Behold another confusion of your forefathers. They worshipped a devil in the guise of a woman, named Cihuacóatl…She terrified men…And because of this they celebrated her feast day. They laid offerings before her, they slew victims before her, that her anger, her fury, might not fall upon [them]” (Book I, 69-70).
Later on Sahagún softens her image more in keeping with the pitiful LaLlorona. During the final days of the ill-fated reign of Moctezuma II she seems a demon reformed:
“In the days of this same [ruler] it happened that [the demon] Cihuacóatl went about weeping, at night. everyone heard it wailing and saying:
‘My beloved sons, now I am about to leave you’ “(Book VIII, ch.1,3).
Truer words could not be imagined as Cortés marched into the dazzling city of Tenochtitlan.
With that image in mind, I have tried to paint the pre and post colonial character with the sensitivity and pathos reserved for Medea. I have taken liberty with the violent death, the children are known to be drowned, but my approved accent color is red!
Apparently this tribute post to my friend Loreen has caused considerable angst to folks that also have called her friend.
If in my own sadness I said anything that has caused hurt I regret that fact.
I received a comment from one individual, quite mean spirited and untrue, that gave me an indication of the breadth and impact this modest studio blog possesses in this age of hyper connection.
My intention was a testament to my friend, her kindness, her quirkiness and her compassion.
I have combed through my post searching for anything that might be misconstrued.
What I will not do is erase the memory of my friendship with this exceptional woman.
That belongs to me.
If for some reason (even after scrupulous editing ) I have somehow missed an untruth I will consider reasonable requests for further editing.
Please remember to maintain a courteous tone when making comments.
Thanking you in advance,
respectfully,
Leonard Greco
Loreen prior to a charity costume event, April 2012
I lost a friend today, she died suddenly, I hope without too much agony.
In April she was gleefully attending to her duties as a Palm Beach hostess; by August cancer had spread through her little bird like body.
My heart is heavy thinking of my friend suffering .
Her name was Loreen Farish her maiden name was long , complicated and Teutonic ,”B” something, I’m ashamed to say I do not know it. Nonetheless she was a wonderful friend, a joy to play with, laugh with and share a cocktail with.
Born into an old Philadelphia family, rich in lineage; she fell in love with Judge Joe. Equally old family, southern charm, grand old plantation sort of background, he had love to spare . They were an odd-ball pair, he a bit older, both vivacious and social. He built the biggest house on the block, dwarfing Tiger Wood’s pile.
Restraint wasn’t their style, they lived lavishly yet in keeping with good old Waspy sensibilities (if not orthodox taste), frugally popping into the Dollar store almost every day -” A hundred bucks buys a lot!”one of Loreen’s familiar refrains.
I met Loreen as a client, initially it was difficult, she wanted mermaids but insisted upon Disney characters; fortunately she liked me and I reminded her of fairy tales and she warmed up to softer imaginings. I worked for her for years, often camping out in Palm Beach, she would golf, go to Walmart for inexpensive fabric (she made her own clothing out of some of the most audacious patterns I have ever seen), she would play and fuss over her ridiculously spoiled cat Maya but most especially fun, she would chat with me.
Trips down Memory Lane of “fabulous” parties and costumes, tickled by excess,she would trot out her jewels (Harry Winston, the NY jeweler was a family friend and crafted much of her collection) modeling them in her sweetly silly pajamas.
Every day was show time, no outfit was complete if it wasn’t thoroughly “themed”, jungle print costume required amber pineapples tipped with jade fronds and panther bangles ;summertime fare featured funny crab pins articulated in such a way that the ruby arms pinched you amusingly, pearled starfishes sat on her breast; a trip to the race track suitably and campily equestrienne.
Loreen loved camp and adored skewering “good taste”, nothing made her happier than pissing off her somewhat priggish decorator (my boss) with her outrageous glitzy taste.
I loved her for all these reasons, her “garden” fashioned from dollar store blooms; her silly cards on “our” holidays: St. Pat’s, Valentines Day and most especially Halloween. She didn’t manage to live to see Halloween this year, I sent her a card as usual, but I doubt she was well enough to chuckle at it. That hurts.
When told her cancer had spread essentially everywhere, chemotherapy wasn’t helping at all ; her response was typical: “Oh shit!”.
Such a statement, typical of her, would have been more effective with a tall glass of gin in one hand and a cigarette in another , but by that time… But Loreen was right, “Oh Shit!”.
I miss you my friend.
The following are snippets of the work I did for her (around 2004).
I confess they are not really something I am particularly proud of : but she loved them, that makes me proud. I haven’t had many “fans” over the years, but Loreen was my most faithful.
Today I lost a fan and a friend, and tonight my world is a bit lonelier.
decorative panel, dining room
Red, purple, gold (real gold) and white (as in marble), were the only colors permitted. I love a design challenge and this was a doozy.
dining room featured in some vulgar magazine.detail, we both love orchids, who doesn’t?Detail with what she called her “Santa” thrones, gold leaf and scarlet ostrich, difficult to appreciate, but God love her she thought they were “fabulous”. I guess they are.
My favorite room was the Breakfast Room, the Atlantic lapping at the door, and one of those ostentatious mega fishtanks front and center. But Loreen and I had a ritual at day’s end, drink martinis and feed “Joe’s” fish. She was squeamish about the live fish food so she thought her vegetarian friend should have the honor. Suitably lubricated we would giggle and fall in love with the finned fellows. When one died (they were always dying) we were heartbroken. We decorated the room with a grotto theme, it is far more elaborate than what I have posted, but enough is enough.
breakfast room, detail with lobster
over-door decoration, breakfast roomanother over-door decoration, featuring element from the Farish crest.
Joe was big game hunter ( I know disturbing as all Hell). He had tons of musty dead animals all over the place. Loreen was the least PC person I knew, she delighted in decorating the stuffed horrors with diamonds. It was awful, but her delight tickled me in spite of myself. This poorly painted cat is taken “from death” , a study of a ratty moth eaten feline, one of a pair.
Game Room decoration, pun intended
As I mentioned Loreen wasn’t at all politically correct, quite the opposite. Her husband didn’t hold strict politically correct views either. When decorating the house powder room a Blackamoor was requested. Blackamoors are considered by many to be a “no-no”, viewed as insensitive concerning racial identity. There is a decorative tradition for this sort of thing, that’s what I told myself , for I also love Blackamoors.
decorative panel, Blackamoor with martini.
I cringe a bit at this image, poorly rendered, harsh coloring,distasteful; but it pleased Loreen immensely .
The following is a page from the aforementioned “shelter” magazine. The “slipper” chair was equally treasured, you see what company my poor Blackamoor keeps.
Loreen was the last of her line, the house will be sold.
It is an ostentatious pile, 20-30 thousand square feet, I can’t keep track of that sort of thing. But it will most likely be torn down, my frivolous decorations with it: Jack climbing his Beanstalk as you ascend the elevator; the pretty golden mermaids in the maid’s bathroom; Maya’s feline portrait a la Turque over the bidet, all will go. That’s the price you pay with decorative work, it’s ephemeral.
I’m not saddened by the loss of work I am not particularly proud of. I am saddened at the loss of the moment, funny hours, a bit blottoed on martinis giggling with my friend. Silly funny memories from a delightfully silly, sometimes terribly sad woman I was very pleased to call my friend.
the much loved/reviled slipper chair.
Tomorrow is Halloween , Happy Halloween dear Loreen.
You were a complicated, perplexing , sweet and thoughtful friend.
I miss you, looking at these images reminds me once again how fleeting all of this is, the good and the bad.
I am on a Minotaur jag, conversations with Clive have me thinking about the theme. I want to explore possible emotional themes concerning the unfortunate beastie while at the same time avoiding the Beauty and the Beast trope. I have a lot of territory to explore.
What seems like many moons ago, I painted the dressing room ceiling of my friend Eleanor. She posted this image on her Facebook page, bringing back very fond memories.
Eleanor has a fantastic collection of jewels and fashion, what would be more suitable to guard her treasures than a fierce dragon.
The room and the painted decoration were a nod to Brighton Pavilion, a shared passion of the client and of the painter.
I was assigned by my printmaking instructor to put together a full value sketch for our next assignment, mono-printing.
No problem, delighted to oblige.
What I find surprising is how most of the class does not share my enthusiasm for this part of the process.
I-phones in hand they download an image and create from such a micro source- it boggles my old weary eyes.
I overcompensate at times and this sketch became a finished drawing.
I’m happy about that, I have wanted to play with the Minotaur theme for quite some time. Picasso an inspiration for subject matter if not aesthetic approach, Clive’s gorgeous horse-men also prompted me along , but most especially Blake’s incredible illustration for Dante’s Inferno.
I love the half beast-half man being truly half beast and not just sporting a bull mask (although Picasso’s Minotaurs cannot be beat for pure erotic appeal).
detail of Theseus and the Minotaur
Theseus, described as young and handsome, was of course a delight to depict-thank goodness there aren’t many plain Greek heroes.
Theseus and the Minotaur pencil on paper 18 by 24 inches
Detail of Theseus.
detail of the hero prince
The following was a beautiful inspiration for the awful Minotaur, an inspiration I failed to follow.
(It can be found in the Museum of Athens. It is incredible, I would love to visit the mad beast.)
When researching the Minotaur myth I found few examples of the “centaur” version as depicted so beautifully by Blake.
Although there is little stylistic similarities in my drawing to the Blake, I think with mono-printing I may be able to capture Blake’s well- studied spontaneity. I will post the results.
I was delighted and spooked when the Minotaur theme entered popular culture. On one of our favorite television shows, Dexter, last evening’s episode featured a terrible murderous villain obsessed with the myth. It was a truly frightening.
Printmaking is progressing onwards, seventh week already; received my first grade for the etching/aquatint segment of course. I’m pleased with the grade.
I’m less pleased with my actual mastery of this tricky medium, trying to be patient and enjoy the discoveries.
It would be lovely if I were a relaxed, easy going southern Californian like my fellow students, everything that is produced is “G-r-e-a-t!!!!”.
Their enthusiasm is exhausting.
Anyway, the following print was designed to showcase my understanding of the various techniques taught within the last few weeks.
I upped the ante a bit by choosing a larger plate (9 by 12) and focusing on drypoint which everyone in class including the teacher seems to shun; I love the technique. The techniques are a soft ground transfer, with drypoint and aquatint ; the aquatint failed multiple times to produce sufficiently dark value- the plate became warped and the rosin would not settle properly. I compensated with drypoint.
The Vanquished Humbaba etching 9 x12 1/3
The above image was printed in a particularly pretty blue, I also ran a run in graphite, pretty color, but a bit weak.
graphite run
Actually, I rather like the color.
My first proof was just the soft ground etching, which I liked, reminded me of a very primitive Flaxman print.
first proof
We initially begin the project with a value drawing.
Initial preparatory drawing for the “Vanquished Humbaba”
My inspiration for the print was from a spectacular Syrian bas relief of the 10th or 9th century; I’m crazy for its archaic quality and its humor.
Syrian basalt relief
Gilgamesh and Enkidu Slaying Humbaba
basalt relief, from palace of King Kapara at Toll Halaf, Syria.
10th-9th cent. B.C.
When I began this class I also began a large painting, 50 by 60 inches. Taking Clive’s advice I decided to move the action forward (the Syrian relief an inspiration). I made use of my Hero Twin maquettes and have been busy painting since. I am nearing completion.
Until I post the final image I thought I would tease with my preparatory sketch.
Preparatory sketch for the “Resurrection of the Father” with maquettes of the Hero Twins.
Well I must get on with my day, an evening class but first a studio day to work out a plan for for mono prints, our next adventure!
Well, must dash, the spouse man’s train should arrive shortly, must pick him up at the station; i sound like a Connecticut housewife.
Boondocks Babylon 
