Wednesday, April 21, 2021

A Fine Line

"Bateaux aux Martigues"
Felt tipped pen on paper, 33 x 40.5 cm.
Nicolas de Staël, 1954

I have recently been taking a drawing seminar, and it has led me to look at a lot of drawings by masters of years past.  I love seeing fully "modeled" drawings, don't get me wrong.  But there is something especially exciting to me when a single line makes all the right moves.  How can some artists say so much with so little?


"Study of a Nude"
Pen and China Ink on Paper
Nicolas de Staël, 1952-53

Faithful readers know that one of my favorite artists is Nicolas de Staël.  I'm illustrating this post with some of his drawings, in which a mere line creates an entire world.  Interestingly, de Staël used a felt tipped pen to create many of these works. It just goes to show that sometimes great art can come from very humble materials! I can imagine de Staël sitting with a drawing pad and pen, and distilling the chaos of the world around him into a few tell-all lines.



It might appear as if these drawings were dashed off quickly or haphazardly.  In fact, the opposite is true. As Nicholas Fox Weber as written: "With de Staël, even the shortest dash is the result of a conscious decision.  It would not be there if the measure were not perfect, and if it did not fit as an essential in the overall scheme."  I am also struck by the way de Staël uses the white (blank) space of the picture plane.  The line may be the only visible mark, but it also defines the invisible shapes that we know are there. For example, in the first drawing above,  the boat hulls sit in the top of the picture plane--and the space below them, though "blank", teems with the movement of the water.


Nicolas de Staël

The bouquet of flowers (shown just above) stopped me in my tracks the first time I saw it.  And it sill makes me catch my breath. Oh, such clarity!  Weber writes of a similar floral painting that de Staël   "caught that bouquet of flowers as a mass of angles in space."  And a great catch, at that.  Hope you'll enjoy these drawings as much as I do.






Saturday, April 10, 2021

When the Price is Right

 



A friend who is an interior designer advises her clients that original art can greatly enhance their homes.  One of her clients posed this question: "How much should I expect to pay for an original painting?"  Hmmm. We all have widely divergent budgets for home decor and also for artwork. My friend mulled over the question a bit, and replied: "Well, it all depends, but as a rule of thumb, certainly more than you pay for your throw pillows!"


"Esterel"
Felix Vallottton

I thought this was a great response, and it has really stuck with me. One can easily pay big bucks for a pair of custom throw pillows in a designer fabric.  Even more if you add some special trim. And yet pillows wear out. They get stained or faded, and go out of style. On the other hand, art lasts forever. Despite these facts, people can be reluctant to spend as much for a painting as for their decorative accessories.


"Lungfrauenmassiv"
F. Hodler

Here's another quotation worth keeping in mind. This is advice from the great artist Felix Vallotton"A mediocre painting is ALWAYS too expensive; a good picture can be expensive at its price; while a very good one is NEVER too expensive."   


"Aloe at Cassis"
Henri Manguin, 1912

Vallatton should know. He was a guiding light for Hedy Hahnloser, as she and her husband assembled a remarkable collection of paintings. They purchased these works during the first quarter of the 20th century--often from artists who were relatively unknown at the time, but are revered today. In fact, some people credit the Hahnlosers with ushering French art from the 19th into the 20th century. I have illustrated this post with paintings from their collection. 


"The Sower"
Vincent van Gogh, 1888

Alas, not all of us have budgets that allow us to assemble a museum-worthy art collection. But if we look, we all can find art within our means that speaks to us, that quickens our hearts and enhances our homes.  


**Some things are worth repeating:  parts of this post appeared previously in this blog.