on postcolonialism

i live in a land full of ancient medicine, maybe the oldest on earth. some of the stuff the indigenous people got up to we will never understand - the magnetics of the land, sky and sea and the unseen spaces of magic, dreaming and song.
its a land that was 'discovered' by the English in the 18th Century, and who rather than look at the ways  they could be educated, decided their way was best and imposed themselves with arrogance and violence.
250 years later, nothing much has changed.

they have a lack of adaptation, a unpreparedness of the great silent spaces and untamed nature of this place. and it slowly gets a hold of them, and the more they struggle to bring 'the old country' here with them, the more the potent spells of this land work their way.

and in that stiff upper lip british manner they deny what may be happening, and proceed to attempt to force their code upon things, still wearing metaphysical red coats.

but it is not going to work, post-colonialism is in action through the forces of nature, and through the souls of the land.

on Barnett Newmans 'Zips'

 Newman called the stripes in his paintings "zips". Which gives you this idea that you can peel apart the canvas to reveal a sub-reality to the new beauty he was investigating. he felt that old standards of beauty were irrelevant, and that the modern world had made traditional style and subject invalid.

the emptiness of the works is punctuated by the zips, declaring the void with something that references human construct. i see them as a reminder of our timelines - life - our passage through time and nothingness.

the zips are something, they operate and guide.
they act like lines on a road, to keep us from disappearing into the grains of the cosmos. they zip open a truth in much the same way zen philosophy does. "everyday life is the path".

even though Newman said that he did not divide space, i think he does, but that does not mean the pictures become restricted or confined. the zips actually expand the horizons he presents, our eyes going beyond the picture frame in search of the continuation. space is divided, and then multiplied.
when asked about what his paintings could mean to the world, he said,"if read properly, the end of all state capitalism and totalitarianism".

on Velazquez

i was thinking about Diego Velazquez today. is he the greatest? he just may be. the oval shaped room in the Prado that is dedicated to him blew my mind.
Saint Thomas on the left is tough and faultless, earthy tones of time frozen fabric cloak Thomas' questioning point of view, but whose possession of book and staff show an unwavering commitment of faith. Look at the firm grip Thomas has on the heavy book for testimony to this, it is beautifully painted. You feel the weight. The composition makes us think he is moving across the canvas, perhaps on his way to Madras in India, where he completed his mission, and where his bones are on display in the San Thome Basilica.










the picture on the left - the infanta dona margarita of austria - is a psychedelic masterpiece - it shimmers like silver in the sun, wet with glory. the organic monster of fabric looms toward the elfin face of the child who is almost lost in the swarms of cloth. its a large painting, whose colour has an unusual milky vibrance. i stared at it for ages, overwhelmed and in love with its weird mystery.

'the triumph of bacchus - the drunkards', and 'the fable of arachne - the spinners' are painted about 30 years apart. the latter not long before his death. the earlier work is stamped in the earth, almost sculptural - like the St Thomas painting its bold and chunky - Velazquez more than confident in his unique ability.

'the Spinners' hovers, your eye drifts along its wispy but no less solid composition. its not as dense as 'the drunkards' and we get more involved somehow. perhaps because its casual, like we have walked into the room that is full of activity. the figure in the  foreground to the left is my all time favourite female in any painting ever made - i know its a big call - but i can think of none better.

Viva Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velazquez!

on a coastal caravan park

Sand and gravel avenues access the caravans that are here permanently and semi-permanently. They used to be decorated with plants and other objects that were chosen by the owner to make their place unique, to give it personality. Now they all look similar, aside from the hint of tone from a curtain or the colour of the manufacturers stripe on the van, most of which have faded. It’s like that because those that run the park said one year, ”No plants”, denying the occupants an opportunity of free expression. But you are allowed a television antenna, and your decking out the front must not exceed 1.2 metres in width...?!   5000 bucks a year to leave it there but you are only allowed to use it for a limited amount of days. it feels like a ghost town. I still kind of like it. 

on Philistines and/or Dilettantes

the 'Philistines' pictured on the left are carved into a wall at Medinet Habu - a place near the west bank of the Nile at ancient Thebes. they are depicted there because its Ramses 3s' mortuary temple, and he stopped them invading Egypt around 1200 BC. one of the more famous Philistines was Goliath of Gath - the big guy who went down after being struck by Davids slingshot in a bible story.

There is a more modern variety - defined by the Oxford Dictionary as "a person who is hostile or indifferent to the arts". A recent case of this (2003) was when the Baghdad Antiquities Museum (BAM!) wasn't protected during the invasion and over 7000 pieces remain missing or destroyed. some of these will have pride of place in a safe, on a mantlepiece, in a cupboard or buried in the desert wrapped in a rag.
These 'collectors' are a form of Dilettante.
"A person who cultivates an area of interest, such as the arts, without real commitment or knowledge."

Another form of Dilettante has the wrong idea about art. The acceptance as an artist, or as an artistic observer, seems far more important to them than the making of art. Yet some are hungry to be called an artist. They've put ART on a shelf that is slightly out of reach - their fingertips can just touch it, its agonisingly close, but no stepladder - physical or metaphysical - is going to get them there.

"art is more state of mind than way of life", said Rube Timinger as he explored inner space.

on Sergio Leones' 'the good, the bad, and the ugly'

i first saw 'the good, the bad, and the ugly' at the drive-in cinema as a kid. i've since seen it a hundred times or more and it gets better. i always want it to keep going. it sprawls over the screen, Sergio Leone aided by Ennio Morricones' music and Tonino Delli Collis' photography in what is a true collaboration. you can pause it anywhere and the composition is spot on, its like a million great paintings joined together and called 'film'.

tonally the light filters through a muted dusty palette - glints of colour here and there accentuate a bowl of beans, a shiny button, or a drop of blood. its protagonists are violent and uncomplicated - the tale is a simple and dense meditation on greed, luck and death. Eli Wallach as 'il cattivo' is mesmerising, and i challenge anyone to not call his performance one of the greatest ever on screen. the film is a masterpiece as enigmatic as the "Mona Lisa' or "The Bride Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, Even".

on the interactive Ritual Art of India

 set into a wall or by the side of a road - anywhere for that matter - i once came across a well tendered piece in the middle of a field - Indian ART crosses the borders of religion, myth, cult and magic - and all the while being interactive with passers-by. who, by the nature of worship and habit, will daub some colour on it, or place an object upon the formless that has been given form. this might be a flower or length of string, a bead, or some wax - it will differ from place to place. there is a practical purpose to it, and it has been in use for who knows how many years.


because of this, it galvanises community the way art should. it defies elitism. it doesn't require a museum or a gallery, or even a temple. it is an abstract visualisation of the divine - a communicative link between the known and the unknown.
Anish Kapoor has used such "pathway icons" as his prime inspiration. Minimalist painters like Barnett Newman and Mark Rothko were seeking to open similar discussions on the inner and outer experiences.
but i like the rawness of these - the used quality - and the preservation is ongoing as for the most part they are outside in the elements, exposed to the cosmic intelligence they revere.