One hand or two?

What can be achieved with one hand is amazing. 

But some of us need two. And, even then we don't start to reach the pinnacles.

Henri Matisse

Bob Fowles

Simultanism

I've just come across 'Simultanism' in an article in the London Review of Books, and was instantly drawn to some parallels with my recent work. 

'At the Royal Academy' in London Review of Books, October 10th 2024, page 36, by Natasha Fedorson. 

Natasha reviews a collection of modernistic art from Ukraine on exhibition until October 13 2024 (apologies, since you, and I, have now missed it). Amongst the 65 pieces are works by Sonia and Robert  Delaunay in which they developed a technique they called Simultanism, in which contrasting colours  are placed alongside each other, or allowed to overlap, creating an impression of motion and gesture. There are compositions of abstract forms, with chunks of colours which fade into one another. Two illustrations in the article resemble very much some of my work.

The concept of the simultaneous is something I have frequently over the years referred to and developed in my life-drawing. To start with there is my way of drawing with a pen or pencil in each hand which working together, simultaneously, make marks on the paper. Then there is the cubist aspect in which two view points of the same object are brought together and presented to the beholder at the same time, i.e. simultaneously. Also within my cubist process I have brought together a series of focus views of different parts of a pose but have emerged them, overlapped or superimposed them, morphed them together, utilising a degree of spatial transparency, whilst all this is happening on the paper (for the viewer) simultaneously.

So I anticipate that you, the reader, will now appreciate the relevance and significance of my application of this newly discovered term 'Simultanism' to some of my own art. But please note that this is just one attempt to discover or create a term which meaningfully suggests and describes the genre which my art is entering.

Illustrations from the article At the Royal Academy in London Review of Books, October 10th 2024

Self portraits

Just come across thedrawingsource.com/self-portrait-drawings.html a fascinating collection of 100 self-portrait drawings from 1484-Today. So I looked up one or two of my recent own.

Numbers 50, 51 & 52

 50

 51

 52

The original line drawings are from female models at Extreme Poses in Stroud, so we see evidence of the straps which in the case of 50 and 51 support the models sometimes clear of any plinth or floor support.

Cathedrals of art, architecture and the spirit

 This post is an introduction to my next two postings:

Frank Gehry's Museo Guggenheim in Bilbao.

Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela.

Meeting with Ana in Santiago de Compostela

 

Here is a story related to my sketches at the Cathedral in Santiago de Compostela (see previous posting):

I have just returned home from a voyage exploring the coasts of northern Spain and Portugal with Nobel Caledonia on a small cruise ship with about ninety like minded travellers. We started with Gehry’s Guggenheim in Bilbao, an amazing architectural extravagance housing perceptually challenging sculptures and other art works. Then along the coast and dropping anchor to allow us a short Camino to Santiago de Compostela.

Santiago has always been on my list of scared places to visit. As we walked in to Santiago the pinnacles of the cathedral could be glimpsed within the perspective lines of the narrow streets. Following our guide around and in to the cathedral we had about an hour before gathering for lunch in one of the nearby palaces. So, I found a gap between resting pilgrims on a low wall and sat and with my A5 sketch book and a fin-liner pen I responded to the moment. After about twenty minutes I then walked through the groups of peoples, some standing, some sitting, some talking, some just raising their eyes towards the cathedral of St James, all engaging with their own experience of arriving at Santiago de Compostela.

We gathered for an organised lunch. And entered a huge ‘renaissance’ barrel vaulted space with tables laid out with wine glasses. We were served plates of food and our glasses were refilled as we desired.

Now, as we walked into this building, our guide named Ana came up to me and said “ I noticed you were sketching in the square, may I see” So, I opened my sketch book to show her my drawings. She said she like them and we held hands for a moment.

As I sat enjoying my meal Ana came up to me and gave me a card. She told me her father, who died in 2016 was a famous Galician artist and asked if I would access his website and look at his work. I thanked her and promised I would do so. The card related his website and the gallery which has been established to house his works.

His name is Jose Ramon, and I have looked at his work and from a review the following: ‘He artistically interprets what he sees and expresses the sensations of everything that surrounds him’. I have enjoyed his work and I celebrate how he commentates on events and issues he feels are important.

The next day, as I approached the coach for our next excursion, there was Ana our guide awaiting us. We greeted each other with an embrace, and she said, “I have something for you”. I climbed on to the coach and took my seat. After a few minutes Ana came along and gave to me an envelope. I thanked her, and then opened it. It was drawing, by her father of the Cathedral of Santiago. Just like I had done and revealed to her at lunch the day before.

Can you imagine my reaction. I was taken aback.

The coach moved off. I reflected on what had just taken place. It was a magical moment. A connection between people, made by Ana between me and her father, at one of the most sacred places, Santiago de Compostela.

I reacted. I felt I had to take this further. I just wanted to extend this amazing connection. So I went down the aisle of the coach, tapped Ana on her shoulder, sat on the step along side her, and said: “I too have a daughter named ‘Anna’. She reacted so beautifully to this coincidence. I then showed her a photograph of me taken on our visit to Bilbao a few days earlier in which my profile closely resembled that of her father on the card she had earlier given to me. The moment of connection, which then ensued, between me and Ana I will hold forever.

We continued our excursion. Arriving back at the ship we alighted form the coach. Ana was there. I went up to her. We embraced. We hugged.

This was such a special moment. She had guided us through Santiago. She had helped us experience this sacred place together. She had initiated a connection between my art and that of her father. She had reached out to me and touched me deeply. It was magical.

And finally, the moment I will cherish forever, and which was over heard by a fellow traveller, Ana said to me as we tightly embraced: “I feel I am holding my father in my arms”

Robert Fowles, 25/09/2024

This is the drawing by Ana's father, Jose Ramon:

The meditative and spiritual of my art.

Just got home from a trip around the coast of the Iberian peninsular during which I rediscovered the true value of the act of drawing. Two highlights were Gehry's Guggenheim and a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. No sketches of the amazing spatial extravaganza of Gehry's architecture ....... I just wandered through it and enjoyed every moment. But in many other places my A5 sketch book holds a record of my responses. I spent just over half-an-hour in the Praza do Obradoiro full of pilgrims in front of the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, and did two quick drawings. The spiritual experience had already built up within me. From an expectation that one day I might be able to include Santiago in my visits to sacred places, to the actual Camino itself as I finally walked through the narrow streets framing a view of the cathedral towers in the distance, and then entering the huge space full of peoples some standing, some sitting, some resting on their bikes, some in groups, some solitary, yet all being clearly lifted by arriving at this special place. I still get very tired with my illness and after my journey was quite exhausted. I found a gap between people on a low wall to sit upon and opened my sketch book and my fine-liner pen and so there appeared on my paper the building and the people before me. I know when I must stop, so I sat for a while taking in and reflecting on that which I was experiencing. I stood up, took a few steps, and felt wonderful, as though all the tiredness had been replaced by a lightness and a new energy (later in the week I experienced identical changes when doing other drawings, however quick, and have related this back to my life-drawing over the years, when following a life session I feel a huge sense of wellness). I have always claimed that drawing for me is a meditative event in which I have entered a different and deep state and always feel so good afterwards. But this time in Santiago it was so evident, and concentrated. As I walked though the peoples and as my eyes moved over the architecture I stood and recorded a brief response to the three towers of the cathedral. Looking back through my sketch book this second drawing reminds me of a visit to Rouen and my subsequent examination of Monet's numerous impressionist paintings of Rouen cathedral.

I have just reminded myself of two most relevant quotations which I have included in an earlier posting:

"When I am working (drawing) I am not conscious of what I am putting on the paper" Picasso

"The essential thing is to work in a state of mind that approaches prayer" Matisse