A Portrait of Henry Miller
Nik Maack
There's a new painting on my website. It's a portrait of Henry Miller.
The photograph I worked from is also there for comparison purposes.
http://www.nikart.com/new/37.html
Any comments would be appreciated.
Dale Houstman
"Nik Maack" <nikm...@sympatico.ca> wrote in message
news:3C93637F...@sympatico.ca...
some way to make your portraits at least as interesting as the source
photos. All the effects appear to merely surface ones, and none (to my eye)
seem to reveal anything about the subject not covered by the photos
themselves. They're fun enough to look at, as explosions of color usually
are, but they don't reward the attention for long. They appear to be merely
overworked copies of the source, and all the portraits have a similar
energy, all fading into one another. They do look to be fun to draw as
such - and I don't deny you your fun - but it's an amusement alien to the
subjects for the most part. Buggerers and burglars and buddhas and bozos all
receive the same treatment, and far to often the captions are needed to
identify the person. This all strikes me as problematic.
dmh
Nik Maack
Dale Houstman wrote:
> Nik, I really do think you need to discover some new modes of expression, or
> some way to make your portraits at least as interesting as the source
> photos.
My favorite mystery writer, Van de Wetering, describes one of his
detectives as having an obsessive painting hobby. All he paints, over
and over, are dead ducks floating in the canals of Amsterdam. It's all
he wants to paint, it's all he ever paints. I'm not sure I can explain
to you why this made me laugh, or how it made me understand my own art
obsession better.
Sometimes I feel this nagging sense that I should paint something else.
This is always because someone has, once again, told me what I should be
doing, and I feel guilty and wonder if they're right. (Before you
commented, someone in rec.arts.fine suggested I get the whole "close
portrait" face thing out of my system by painting five portraits of
Miller in as many different ways as I can.) I've been painting
colourful faces since before high school -- and that was 13 years ago.
So for over 13 years, this is what I've been working on. It still
totally absorbs me.
> All the effects appear to merely surface ones, and none (to my eye)
> seem to reveal anything about the subject not covered by the photos
> themselves.
If painting is all about the subject being painted, presumably the
subject could paint themselves without my assistance.
> They're fun enough to look at, as explosions of color usually
> are, but they don't reward the attention for long. They appear to be merely
> overworked copies of the source, and all the portraits have a similar
> energy, all fading into one another.
I've often felt that a person can't understand my art if they only look
at one of my portraits. To really get it, they have to see a whole
whack of them, one after the other. Then you start to see that everyone
gives off a wave of colour, everyone is a mix of clown and monster.
> They do look to be fun to draw as
> such - and I don't deny you your fun - but it's an amusement alien to the
> subjects for the most part. Buggerers and burglars and buddhas and bozos all
> receive the same treatment, and far too often the captions are needed to
> identify the person.
This is completely true and doesn't bother me in the slightest.
>This all strikes me as problematic.
Oh well.
Sincerely -- thank you for your comments.
I should probably go out and find a biography of Modigliani. I suspect
he has a lot to tell me. Here's an artist who does what I do -- paints
people in his own style, usually distorting people into how he feels
they should look. Long necks, the occasional scratched out eye...
Could anyone recommend a Modigliani biography?
Dale Houstman
>
>
> Dale Houstman wrote:
> > Nik, I really do think you need to discover some new modes of
expression, or
> > some way to make your portraits at least as interesting as the source
> > photos.
>
> My favorite mystery writer, Van de Wetering, describes one of his
> detectives as having an obsessive painting hobby. All he paints, over
> and over, are dead ducks floating in the canals of Amsterdam. It's all
> he wants to paint, it's all he ever paints. I'm not sure I can explain
> to you why this made me laugh, or how it made me understand my own art
> obsession better.
It's an interesting story, and - believe me - I am quite familiar with
obsession. But it not obsession that I am talking about above, but a quality
of obsession. I assumed your "technique" was obsessional, and I didn't
expect you to explicate it. It's just that - possibly - I don't find your
obsession obsessional enough (it lacks - for me - a nervous curiosity), or
of enough interest to elicit much more from me than (sometimes: as I said,
often the portrait depends on its captions for clarity) a recognition of
subject. It is like those aggravating "specials" on TV that rely on a parade
of celebrity faces without the context of the celebrity's act, as if we are
somehow supposed to be fascinated by the mere cognizance of a famous face.
Obviously some people are Pavlovian when it comes to such a spectacle, but I
do not think it rises to the level of intrigue and the sense of the
marvelous that images are capable of.
>
> Sometimes I feel this nagging sense that I should paint something else.
Again, it's not a matter of the subject: I don't really care if one paints
tube socks or frozen donkeys in a red tent. Portraiture can be eternally
compelling (although there are far too many "awesome" portraits of the
merely powerful), as in many of Van Gogh's works, the Mona Lisa, etc.
> This is always because someone has, once again, told me what I should be
> doing, and I feel guilty and wonder if they're right.
I am NOT - clearly - telling you what to paint, but only expressing my
personal opinion (which is not totally inept) that the mode you use to
"express" yourself isn't really coming across with much more than a "tarted
up" photograph that is - almost inevitably - less striking than the source
photo.
>(Before you commented, someone in rec.arts.fine suggested I get the whole
"close
> portrait" face thing out of my system by painting five portraits of
> Miller in as many different ways as I can.) I've been painting
> colourful faces since before high school -- and that was 13 years ago.
> So for over 13 years, this is what I've been working on. It still
> totally absorbs me.
And this is beyond fine. It isn't a "bad" obsession in the least. Obviously
Vincent liked colorful faces also. I am just stating a personal belief that
your portraits do not escape their sources wildly enough to grant them much
interest beyond the "gee! look at those colors" phase. The compulsion
strikes me as a more than adequate beginning, but - as I said - your
"neurosis" doesn't appear to be curious enough about anything but a quirky
surface quality of relatively unvarying manner.
>
> > All the effects appear to merely surface ones, and none (to my eye)
> > seem to reveal anything about the subject not covered by the photos
> > themselves.
>
> If painting is all about the subject being painted, presumably the
> subject could paint themselves without my assistance.
You misunderstand (and I don't know why: the statements are clear enough) -
it is not that I want (from your work) a clear projection of the source's
own understanding of itself, but that - whatever your stance is vis a vis
the subject - you are not revealing any psychology beyond the slight
tendency to be excited by a barrage of colors that - in themselves - do not
seem to elicit any further responses on the part of the mind that might be
found in a perusal of the original photo. I really could care less what
Henry Miller thinks of himself - as regards to the portrait - but it isn't
asking too much that you reveal something more of your regard in the matter.
I can tell you like bright displays of frenetic color, but that is a
sensation attainable almost anywhere, and - rightly or wrongly - one is
expecting - from various contexts - to derive more than that.
>
> > They're fun enough to look at, as explosions of color usually
> > are, but they don't reward the attention for long. They appear to be
merely
> > overworked copies of the source, and all the portraits have a similar
> > energy, all fading into one another.
>
> I've often felt that a person can't understand my art if they only look
> at one of my portraits. To really get it, they have to see a whole
> whack of them, one after the other. Then you start to see that everyone
> gives off a wave of colour, everyone is a mix of clown and monster.
Again, you appear to be only half-way reading my statements (maybe this is
admirable on your part?): I said exactly that I HAVE looked at a lot of your
portraits, and - in fact - my complaint above is that the entire parade
seems to be unvarying. I see what you mean by "clown and monster" but it's
bordering on a cliche observation ("saint and sinner") and - if this IS true
of all subjects - what does any of the portraits have to say about their
unique subject? If nothing beyond "everyone is alike" (which I know is a
false assumption), then where can the interest lie but in mere gratification
of certain excitable structures in the eye? And - sue me - I don't find that
very satisfying. The entire process - as you've explained it - puts me in
mind of Op Art, which is - I think - one of the less valuable exercises of
20th century art, and a dull culmination of Duchamp's repulsion at mere
retinal spasming.
>
> > They do look to be fun to draw as
> > such - and I don't deny you your fun - but it's an amusement alien to
the
> > subjects for the most part. Buggerers and burglars and buddhas and bozos
all
> > receive the same treatment, and far too often the captions are needed to
> > identify the person.
>
> This is completely true and doesn't bother me in the slightest.
I assumed not. It doesn't really "bother me" either: it merely bores me. You
have every right not to be interested in the opinions of others (it's
probably to your benefit), but you asked and I replied. I would much rather
be "bothered": a lot of work makes me feel angry, or agitated, or vaguely
upset one way or another. Your's never does. This is what I am attempting to
analyze (precisely or otherwise).
>
> >This all strikes me as problematic.
>
> Oh well.
Well -yes. But you did ask.
>
> Sincerely -- thank you for your comments.
You're welcome. As I said, color explosions ARE fun to a degree, but I think
that pleasure fades almost instantly in those above a certain impressionable
age.
>
> I should probably go out and find a biography of Modigliani. I suspect
> he has a lot to tell me. Here's an artist who does what I do -- paints
> people in his own style, usually distorting people into how he feels
> they should look. Long necks, the occasional scratched out eye...
He's not one of my favorites either, but probably not a bad choice, if you
must. Actually though, ALL portraitists "distort" reality in distinct ways.
There is a spectrum of other concerns that seems missing in your work. But -
if you derive personal joy from their execution, no other rationale is
needed.
>
dmh
elag
>
> I should probably go out and find a biography of Modigliani. I suspect
> he has a lot to tell me. Here's an artist who does what I do -- paints
> people in his own style, usually distorting people into how he feels
> they should look. Long necks, the occasional scratched out eye...
>
> Could anyone recommend a Modigliani biography?
Here is a very nice Modi anecdote:
Once Modigliani took Maurice [Utrillo] to a restaurant for dinner on
credit and then to his studio...
There Maurice painted a couple of Montmartre street scenes from
memory in order to raise money for drinks. Modigliani took the wet
canvases to Zborowski and on the proceeds of the sale he and Maurice
launched a 3 day tour of the bars of the quarter. It was, as always, a
wild binge. What money they did not drink up was folded into paper
airplanes and sent gliding into the trees along the Boulevard Raspail.
Ultimately the two rolled back to Modigliani's studio to sleep.
When Modigliani awakened, Maurice was gone, and so were Modigliani's
clothes. However, Maurice soon reappeared quite drunk and laden with
bottles of wine. These, he explained, he had bought after pawning his
friend's clothes. Now their drinking could go on!
Chaim Soutine came in at what might have been the tail end of the
ensuing drinking bout, and at Modigliani's suggestion he took Maurice's
clothes to the pawn-broker in order to buy more wine. When Soutine
informed Zborowski of what was going on, the ex-poet managed to reclaim
the pawned clothing and then succeeded in bustling Maurice off to a
hotel room of his own.