It’s Been A While…
Family commitments, unexpected turns of events and many potential changes in the air have kept me on my toes these past five months. They’ve also kept me from my own art practice more than I would have liked, which is not to say that I have completely abandoned it - just that family seems to be taking priority for the duration. But, even as in winter in nature, when all appears to be dead, there is much going on below the surface.
The book project - Trees and Souls/ Bäumen und Seelen is the title - has been quietly progressing. There have been numerous Zoom meetings with our super designer to discuss draft designs and hone our ideas so that there is contextual integrity between the layout and the contents - texts in two languages, illustrations and photos. Inevitably there have been differences of opinion to negotiate, but surprisingly they have been few and now things are shaping up nicely, so the plan is to publish in autumn. Read on to the end for a little taster before you leave today…!
I think the book has been my transition from all that intense work solely about the old olive tree (and the thoughts that sprang out of that) to my next project - Family Tree - which feels like a natural progression. More about that another time. In the meantime, while I concentrate on my researches and play around with ideas of how to depict all my ancestors’ complicated and fascinating stories, I have gone back to finishing off a piece of work that I started over 12 years ago. Simple though this may appear to be, it has been proving a lot more challenging than I ever thought it would. It’s not done yet and there are still five sets of eyes to be added.
Family Tree
The driftwood plank I’m working on is over 6’ high and seen in real life you get a real sense of the power of eyes, something that a photograph just doesn’t convey.
Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
Talking of how unsatisfactory photographs are when it comes to art - I recently made a little pilgrimage to Malaga to see the exhibition of Paula Rego’s work there, in the Museo de Pablo Picasso. What an eye opener! When you see her paintings on the wall, when you see how big they really are, how vibrant they are, when you become aware of her mastery of her mediums (in particular the chalk pastels that she used on many of her massive works), and learn that she created scenarios in the studio so that she could work directly from life (and my goodness does it tell in the work) you get so much more insight into her inner processes - far more and infinitely more viscerally than any words could ever offer you.
It did sadden me, though, to see how few of the gallery visitors actually bothered with that particular exhibition, preferring rather to opt for what they already knew - Picasso’s work. I could say a lot more about that particular observation, but maybe not here and now!
And finally I’d like to share a couple of small successes that I’ve had recently, just because they are achievements that I have long wished for but never had before. ‘Why?’ you might ask. Simply because, as in so many spheres of life, recognition equates to professional validation in your chosen field….So, I managed to get onto the long-list of finalists in the Visual Arts Open Call, where there were over 3000 entries. Prouder still I am of the fact that I got onto the short list of finalists in the Visual Artists Association Professional Artists Award, which had over 1000 submissions. The final results of both competitions will be published at the end of August.
And here, as promised, are a few opening paragraphs from one of the stories in Trees and Souls/ Bäumen und Seelen. This one is called The Mean Tree/Der Gemeine Baum. It is one for which we had to find a resolution to our differences, but how we did that you will only discover from reading the whole story in the book…!
For as far back as I could remember, the pear tree had been part of the garden standing sentinel over the sandpit, where we played and messed around as children.
There was something eerie about it, though. It never changed in the way that other trees changed over the years. It never blossomed. It never bore fruit, nor did it ever seem to grow new branches. The only evidence that it was alive at all were the new leaves that unfurled themselves in the spring, then slowly changed colour as summer faded into autumn, until they dropped listlessly to the ground and into the sandpit. Apart from that it seemed almost lifeless.
And it was mean!
It would morph its rough bark into something smooth and slippery, so that climbing children would slip and fall. Or it would suddenly throw up small twigs in places where there hadn’t been any before, so we would graze our hands and bloody our faces, or poke our eyes or ears.
Needless to say, it aroused mixed feelings in us. On the one hand it was a great tree to climb on, and we loved playing in the tree house we had built in it. On the other hand, we had the spooky feeling that the tree couldn’t stand us. It was something that we all agreed on. Like some kind of embittered misanthrope, this tree seemed to despise all living creatures. Even the birds refused to build their nests there, and they seldom settled on its branches for a rest.
And, as if to confirm the tree’s conviction that living beings were despicable, the dogs took delight in peeing up against its trunk.
The years passed. Everything changed. We boys all grew up, left the parental home and settled elsewhere, to return only for the usual family get togethers - birthdays, anniversaries, Christmases and funerals.
And through all that time the tree remained steadfastly unchanging while the sandpit beneath rotted away and disintegrated. Mutely it stood there, like a grim memorial that even the pigeons avoided.
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Mary-LynneStadler
Carretera San Juan Km 14, Can Guimo Buzon 58
San Lorenzo
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