So, what does an artist do in these times of sheltering in place? Isolation would seem to be one of the few silver linings in the pandemic to those of us who make art. I mean, how many of us so often wish desperately for the gift of time away from our day jobs? Well, here we go - there’s no excuse now - time is here. If you need supplies? No worries. If you are out of Cerulean Blue, a palette knife, canvas? It’s a click on your smartphone and on your doorstep in no time. And I haven’t heard of anyone hoarding drawing paper yet (I certainly wouldn’t care to wipe my bottom with 20 lb. cold-pressed) or selling brushes for exorbitant prices. So this should be a perfect time for prolific output. Kurt Vonnegut said, “The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable.” Word.
I’m using my newfound time to explore a series of figure paintings. Having concentrated on landscapes for the past twelve years, it feels like the right time to make a left turn and see what I can do with the human body, More to come in the future about that, but in my pre-painting research, I came upon an early influence of mine, Edvard Munch (he who created “The Scream”) and was particularly struck by two of his mid-career paintings that he made during the last world-wide pandemic - the Spanish Flu.
Poor Edvard was obsessed with death and suffering - for a number of reasons - and explored the darkness often and with strange relish. So, the pandemic was a motif right up his alley. In fact, when he contracted the illness himself in 1919, he used the time in his sick bed to paint the picture below, “Self-portrait with the Spanish Flu.”
I can assure you that the last thing right now that should I contract COVID-19, (knock-knock) I will NOT be painting much of anything and will tuck myself away from everyone until I arise, stronger than ever. Thin, sallow and unshaven are not a good look, in my opinion. As I said though, Edvard was a bit dark and his catalogue of work contains many portrayals of sickness, mental anguish and death. In fact, as a follow-up to the first self-portrait, later in 1919, he painted “Self Portrait After the Spanish Flu” in which he looks only slightly more animated. He apparently spent most of his life convinced he was flirting with death on a daily basis. To his dismay, he lived a good long life, leaving us in 1944 at the advanced age of 80. Crazy Scandihoovian…
Not the artistic avenue I care to trod. I would rather heed Mr. Vonnegut’s words and do my part to make the world bearable. We need it more than ever right now. My studio has never felt more like a holy place than it does today, where I can retreat for the greater good.
Peace be with you all.