Snapshot of End of the Millennium with Star
I wrote in my last post about my habit of returning to simple still-life set-ups after a prolonged interruption in the studio in order to regain my stride, and then quickly passing on to something looser. Here’s another example, demonstrating that this practice goes quite a ways back.
At the turn of the millennium – more than 20 years ago now – we had a small party on my property with a very big bonfire. When I acquired my five acres in 1999 there was quite a bit of debris, and I gathered this over months into a big pile. That night we burned all the contents over many hours, ending up with the pile gone and a deep pit of cherry red coals. It was pretty spectacular.
Anyway, one of the guests gave me a special bottle of wine and a yellow winter squash, curvy and heavy and lovely in that almost fleshly way winter squashes have. Too lovely to cook, really, and so we didn’t. After everyone was gone and the mess cleaned up, I staged the two items in a box and started painting them. It began quite conventionally, like this:
This is pastel on a heavy watercolor paper. It’s quite small, maybe 4 or 5 inches. It got a name: End of the Millennium. (These are all just snapshots, by the way.)
Then I began playing a bit more:
I think this study is on sandpaper, and brought in some vine charcoal. Again, just a few inches tall.
I liked what was happening, so I worked it up further, a little larger, again on sandpaper, with result as seen in the snapshot at the top of this post: End of the Millennium with Star. That final version is in the scribbling, layered style I was using at the time, before I began taking a brush to the pastels.
This cascade of deconstruction always ends up happening in these return-to-the still-life scenarios. And then I’m done with still-lifes and on to something else. Perhaps I’ve gotten the re-grounding, re-centering I need. But I think more likely I just get reminded that I find conventional still-lifes profoundly boring to do, and in reaction I head towards something more exciting and then I’m back off and running. There is something seductive in the prospect of the still life, but I’m still searching for the more direct route to the part that matters to me.