We painted a still life of four pears and a handmade blue bowl in our recent Friday art class. After looking at some art prompts and reminding the class, “Pears are just variations on spheres piled on top of each other,” we got down to business. In art class this means spending some time looking. Unless we’re designing an abstract creation, we usually have a desire to make our images reflect what we see. Yet each of us sees from a unique perspective and we each have a special creative use of color and line. This is our creative genius which lives within each of us. My goal as a teacher is to lead this genius out of each person and set it free to feel confident to exercise its own voice.
The genius is a Greco Roman idea like our guardian angel, in that each person has a guardian spirit. The Romans put the father at the head of the family, so the genius was the spirit of the male head of the household. In the family altar areas lares, (guardians of the family, who protect the household from external threats) stand on either side of the genius, who wears a toga and makes a sacrifice. Beneath them all is a serpent. The murals often depict snakes in the lararia because the Romans believed they were also guardian spirits of the family and as well as messengers to the underworld.
The poet Horace half-seriously said only the genius knows what makes one person so different from another, adding the genius is a god who is born and dies with each one of us. Individuals worshipped their own individual genii, especially on their own birthdays. Today we use the term genius to mean “gifted or special,” but each of us has special abilities of our own genius, just by the grace of God at birth. As Romans 12:6 reminds us,
“We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us: prophecy, in proportion to faith; ministry, in ministering; the teacher, in teaching; the exhorter, in exhortation; the giver, in generosity; the leader, in diligence; the compassionate, in cheerfulness.”
Some of us may be rich in gifts, and some of us may be letting our gifts lie fallow, but we can all work at increasing the gift we have. Some of us may discover a hitherto unknown gift! None of us would ever want to be like the third servant who received the one talent and promptly buried it out in the back yard in a coffee can, only to return it to the master without even added interest. He was so afraid of failure and loss, and worried about future punishment, that he did not even loan the money out at interest. (Matthew 25:24ff)
Samuel Beckett in in Westward Ho (1983), said:
“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again.
Fail again. Fail better.”
This quote was written on the back of a envelope in my grandmother’s art studio up on the second floor of the big wooden Victorian home my granddaddy built for them when he was promoted to conductor on the railroad. He had an eighth grade education, but made sure his boys had more. My grandmother was not going to let anything stop them.
Failure is how we learn what we don’t know. Then we learn some more things and discover we still don’t know everything! We become lifetime learners because the world is always changing, whether we want it to or not. We too will transform, because this is the truth of the Christian life.
Most of life in the art studio is a process of failing upward. Most people think failing is always a negative activity, but children always fall before they can consistently walk. We give them joy, cookies, and hugs. I am old enough to remember rocket ships blowing up on the launchpad more often than streaking into the great beyond. NASA had a few kinks to work out before we sent chimpanzees or humans into space. Even then, space has claimed its heroes. We don’t call NASA a failed organization. These sacrifices taught us much. We are infinitely more careful and do not want to move so fast that we break humanity. Break the technology but care for the humanity.
In my own work, I can learn so much on one painting, I will look at it a month later and want to “fix it.” I realized long ago I needed to let that feeling go. If I were to work with new insights on the old work, I would have to totally repaint it. I would be better off beginning all over. I’m now in a new place and have new skills. My individual genius is ready for a new challenge. I will learn so much on the new work, I will be eager to start on the next one.
Art is like life. We get a new day to do better and another opportunity to do better. There are cynics among us who believe people cannot do better, or they will never change. Those of us, who afflicted with incurable optimism, believe change is possible and a better life awaits. We would have no teachers, healers, or community leaders, much less no clergy of any faith, if we didn’t believe in transformation or think we have no part in bringing it to fruition. I am not one to settle for chaos and despair. I keep saying this world has enough negativity, and I will not contribute to that excess.
Simplifying what we see before us is a first step in drawing from life. The KISS Principle works in art class too: “Keep It Simple Silly.” Most of us try to eat the elephant all at once. We look at a houseful of boxes and collapse: where to start? After years of itinerating, I can say with certainty, “The one nearest to you at the moment.” If it took three weeks to pack, expect the same amount of time to unpack. Hooray, you get to eat out until you find the kitchen gear. Likewise with a painting, we make a mark with a light-colored wash. If it is in the wrong place or the wrong size, we can overpaint it. No one will ever know.
Mike kept his pear painting simple. He made a study of the one pear which called his name. Just because I brought four pears and a blue bowl didn’t mean he felt the need to paint the whole still life. This is his unique genius. In his work life he can find the primary truths and key facts to support his clients’ cases. Those same attributes will show up in his artwork. At the end of the class, he was unhappy, however.
“Use your words,” I always say, “or at least point to where you are unhappy with your work.”
Pointing to the waistline of the pear, he said, “This section here looks wrong.”
“That’s where you quit looking at the pear and were just putting paint on the canvas.”
“OK, I thought that was what was bothering me about this, but I didn’t know why.”
“We have to keep looking at the objects while painting. Our memories aren’t that good to keep the image in mind for long.” We can train our memories by the technique of blind drawing, which is the technique of only looking at the objects, but never at our drawing. This trains our hand to connect to our eye. Our first drawings are very lopsided because the right side usually won’t match up to the left side. Yet with practice, these blind drawings will look somewhat realistic.
Gail S has a more reflective and introspective approach, so she will dissect the major elements of the still life before she makes a mark on the canvas. Some people can imagine three dimensional objects as two dimensional patterns without making marks visible. I consider this a particular form of genius, for they also can usually access their thoughts without having to write them down, which is what extroverted thinkers need to do. This is another example of how different people approach art from their own specific genius: if we all were all alike, we would produce indistinguishable results as if from a factory. Art class isn’t a factory production line, but an experience and opportunity to get in touch with our creative selves.
I managed to catch the personality of the different pear species. I was painting on a raw, unprimed canvas, so my first layers of paint soaked into the weave. The successive layers built up the colors. I ignored the drapery and the busy background of the actual setting, but I added the rainbow clouds of my own. The violet grey of the tablecloth might read to some eyes as a mountain. Then the size context of the pears and the bowl becomes questionable. Are they normal sized pears on a table or giant-sized pears on a mountain? The tension is part of the painting.
Once the artist makes their work, they give it a title for what it is meant to say to others. That is its “birth name.” Much like a sermon, once the word or image gets out into the public, people interpret it according to their own lived experiences and prejudices. As an example, historians have misinterpreted Rembrandt’s Night Watch, which wasn’t its original title.
Contrary to popular myth, the commissioners did not reject painting, but it has suffered many indignities in its almost 400 year history. In 1715, the townspeople pared it down to fit between two doors in Amsterdam’s Town Hall, and its current name arrived at the end of the 18th century on account of varnish and dirt that had darkened it into a nighttime scene. The action takes place at dawn’s first light, a fact revealed after a recent 2013 cleaning.
The same goes with any spoken word or sermon. If we wonder how so many people can get so many different meanings from a preacher’s sermon, or how people can read the same Bible, but produce wildly different interpretations of the claim Christ has on their lives from the same holy word, it might be because we all come from differing perspectives, environments, cultures, and therefore have unique “geniuses.”
In the seminary we try our best to strip all our preconceived notions away from our hearts and minds and hear the texts as the authors originally spoke to those who wrote them down. Then we ask, “What meaning do they have for us today? What is Christ calling us to be? What are we to do to bring God’s kingdom one step closer?” If the scripture cannot touch us, transform us, and call us to action, we will be as John Wesley once feared, only “almost Christians.” To be fully Christian we need to have not only the outward appearance of the Christian life but also have “the love of God and neighbor shed abroad in our hearts.” That is the mark of the “altogether Christian,” rather than the one who is only just as good as the “honest heathen.”
Wesley never minced his words, as you can read in his sermon, “The Almost Christian.” When our toes tingle, we might want to give some thought to our strongly held beliefs. If scripture contradicts them, then we might want to look deeper into the background of that text and see if the rest of the Bible speaks with the same voice. We also might want to consider if this word has meaning for today (for instance, we no longer make animal sacrifices to God, since Christ made that need irrelevant by his gift on the cross).
When we struggle in learning a new art technique, we are also undergoing a transformation. We sometimes must unlearn an old comfortable habit to learn a better one. Anyone who has played a sport knows the difficulty of making a swing change or adjusting their throwing motion. We are creatures of habit and want to take the well traveled path. We fear any disruption from the ordinary. Yet it’s in the challenge of the new where we learn. Iron sharpens iron. We never hear the metaphor, “Wool sharpens steel.”
We will do Day of the Dead T shirts next and turban pumpkins after that. It is always an interesting time in Friday Art Class. You can join us and begin at your level. Bring your own acrylic paints, brushes, and a small canvas or canvas panel.
Joy and peace,
Cornelia
Genius | Ancient Beliefs & Practices
https://www.britannica.com/topic/genius-Roman-religion
Revealing the Secret History of Rembrandt’s ‘The Night Watch’
https://news.artnet.com/art-world/secrets-of-rembrandt-the-night-watch-2627404
BBC – History – Ancient History in depth: Pompeii Art and Architecture Gallery
https://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ancient/romans/pompeii_art_gallery_08.shtml
Wesley’s Sermon Reprints: The Almost Christian | Christian History Magazine
https://christianhistoryinstitute.org/magazine/article/wesleys-sermon-reprints-almost-christian
Test of Vanguard launch vehicle for U.S. International Geophysical Year (IGY) program to place satellite in Earth orbit to determine atmospheric density and conduct geodetic measurements. Malfunction in first stage caused vehicle to lose thrust after two seconds and Mission Control destroyed the vehicle.
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