September Report – September 28, 2015
When I first retired from teaching and started my blog, I
used to post on a daily basis. Over
time, daily posts gave way to weekly posts.
And now I’ve found that the frequency of my posts has tapered off even
further – a result, no doubt, of a schedule that’s busier than ever. So as the current month draws to a close,
I’ll update you on September chez nous.
Visitors!
The most memorable event was the highly anticipated visit of
Elisa, Christian, and Sylvie. At the
tender age of two months, Mademoiselle Sylvie made her debut into Virginia
society with style, poise, and characteristic charm (no doubt inherited from
her completely unbiased grandmother).
Miss Sylvie getting to know GrandDaddy |
Great-Grandma Katie meeting Sylvie |
For three and half glorious and exhausting days and nights,
life revolved around the baby. We
welcomed a steady stream of neighbors, friends, and family members who came to
meet her. We vied to hold her and play
with her. In the mornings, we attempted
to elicit smiles and in the evenings, we attempted to console her during her
screaming episodes. It’s funny how
someone who weighs barely ten pounds can take control of a household. Of course, we all loved it! And for Elliott, who was seeing his new
granddaughter for the first time, the experience was very moving.
The Cheslaks weren’t the only guests at the Thompson B&B
in September. Just prior to their visit,
two of Elliott’s adult granddaughters from Texas came to stay with us for a few
days. We kept them busy with a variety
of activities, including dinner at our favorite Afghan restaurant (Mazadar) and
a wine-tasting and picnic lunch at Molon Lave Vineyards in the beautiful
Virginia countryside.
Dana and Erin at Molon Lave Vineyards |
Adventures in AbEx Land
As for my academic pursuits, I’m finding that my art history
class is giving my brain quite a workout.
My fabulous prof has given us a quick rundown on academic art, which
held sway for centuries, followed by challenges to academic art in the 19th
century resulting in Modernism, and then completely new developments in the art
world, starting with Abstract Expressionism in the period following World War
II. In order to understand AbEx (as it’s
affectionately known), we’re reading and discussing articles by two major art
critics. Harold Rosenberg describes AbEx
as “Action Painting.” From an
existentialist viewpoint, he sees the artist searching for meaning. The process of creating the image is more
important than the image itself. He
describes the never-ending dialectic of the painting process whereby the artist
puts a stroke of paint on the canvas, then struggles to respond to the
resulting image, which leads to another stroke of paint, and so on. If you take
a look at a Jackson Pollock painting, you’ll get an idea of what Rosenberg is
talking about.
Another critic, Clement Greenberg, offers a formalist
view of AbEx. He espouses the idea of
“pure painting.” Unlike Rosenberg,
Greenberg states that the value of the painting is in the image. He stresses that the artist must embrace the
unique characteristics of painting as a medium – its 2 dimensionality, its flat
and defined plane. In other words, the
goal of painting is not to create an illusion of three dimensionality. That’s the goal of sculpture. And as far as content is concerned, the
function of painting is not to tell a story, since narrative belongs to the
domain of literature. Mark Rothko was
one of the artists that Greenberg admired.
Not to be outdone by Rosenberg, Greenberg also refers to a
dialectic. In this case, the dialectic
is the artist doing something new (the avant-garde) as he strives to approach
pure painting, which leads to a reaction from other painters, creating a new
avant-garde as they try to advance the quest for pure painting.
So, take your pick - Existentialism or Formalism. Having fun yet?
Artists at Work
The 6-week break between the summer and fall sessions at
Workhouse Arts Center turned out to be a real test of endurance. I did some half-hearted design work at home,
but I was seething with impatience to get started on new fused glass projects
that I’ve been carrying around in my head since mid-summer. Fortunately, I had my first class of the fall
session yesterday. Many familiar faces
were back. And Matt is the instructor’s
teaching assistant.
Elliott has been busy working on his own art recently. Most days, he spends at least a couple of
hours in the downstairs studio. He has
worked up some designs and is eager to start painting. Today, we spent a couple of hours shopping
for canvases, paint, and related supplies.
I attribute this renewed interest in painting to (1) the stronger dosage
of his pain medication, and (2) working with me on the painting inventory. He’s quite pleased with website I
created. It contains some biographical
information and images of his earlier work.
If you’re interested, you can take a look at the Elliott Thompson Art website.
Taking a break and enjoying the fall weather |
My September Problem
T.S. Eliot wrote, “April is the cruelest month.” I disagree.
In my opinion, September is the cruelest month. It seems that every September, as I gear up
for the new schedule of activities (classes, house guests, etc.), I also start
to sense a creeping dread invading my psyche.
It becomes a constant struggle to keep the dread contained. If I’m not vigilant, it will jump out of its
box and strangle me. The image that has
been swimming in my brain, perhaps from a dream, for the past few weeks – I’m
swimming in the ocean, amid the waves but close to shore, when I suddenly
realize the force of the undercurrent is drawing me further and further out and
I fear that I’ll never touch down on land again. Terror!
I’m convinced that it’s tied to the change of seasons at
this particular time of year. It isn’t
so much the cold that I fear, but the shortened hours of daylight. I hate getting up before sunrise, even though
I woke up at 5:00 a.m. during all those years I was teaching. Actually, once I got out of bed and turned on
lots of lights, I was absolutely fine. But
peering into the morning darkness from the cocoon of my bed is a cruel way to
start the day. Maybe I’ll have to trick
my brain by installing one of those programmable lights in the bedroom that
gradually illuminates the room to mimic sunrise.
So now we’ve passed the autumn equinox and we’re in the
worst period. The knowledge that we’re
on a downward trend regarding amount of daylight compounds the anxiety I feel. How many days until the shortest day of the
year, when we start to add minutes of daylight again?