Category Archives: Chiaroscuro

Right Brain. Artist. Left Brain.

by Moshe Mikanovsky

This article is by Moshe Mikanovsky, Regular contributing writer for FineArtViews.  An emerging artist searching his way in the art world, he loves to share what he learns.  With over 20 years of technology experience, Moshe combines his technological background and his passion for the arts with the goal of “working his dream”.  You should submit an article and share your views as a guest author by clicking here.

We have all heard it before. The right side of our brain is the creative side, the side where all the creativity juices are controlled. We learned how to draw using the right side of our brain. Some of us have even taken some aptitude tests to find out which type of job we are suitable for, and part of these tests might have resulted in identifying our dominant hemisphere inside our skulls. We know that if we are mostly right-brained, we might have random thoughts, which help us think of solutions out-of-the-box, our non-verbal communication skills are strong and we are more inclined to explain ourselves in pictures or many words.

But I believe there is much more than that to the right-brain-left-brain conundrum.

I recently came across an amazingly inspiring speech on TED by brain researcher Jill Blote Taylor, who, herself, has gone through a brain hemorrhage and a stroke in the left side of her brain, and was able to give a first hand account, not just as a patient, but also as a brain researcher, as to what actually happens while in this life-threatening and near-death situation. It is worth the full 18 minutes and 42 seconds to watch and listen to Dr. Blote Taylor’s account, minute by minute, and witness her emotional insight.

In her account, Dr. Jill (as she refer to herself on her website), explains how the right hemisphere of our brain is in charge of all the sensors of our present state – seeing, smelling, hearing, tasting, feeling. It is basically responsible for the present, for the here and now. And in the present, it can feel one and whole with the entire universe around it.

The left hemisphere on the other hand, works in a sequential way. It knows and remembers the past. It plans the future. It takes all the information gathered throughout time and processes them to create logical sequences. Basically, it is responsible for the past and the future. While losing, one by one, all her abilities to walk, talk, read, write, and recall her life (all learned abilities controlled by the damaged left-side of her brain), she felt a euphoric sense of new reality, one connected to the world, with her senses heightened and she felt the life force power of each of the molecules making her existence. Only the remaining undamaged part of her left hemisphere helped her saved herself, telling her that something was wrong, and through a painstaking process, she was able to get help.

Dr. Jill’s story and vision of what each side of our brains do, or what we can actually become once we are tuned with our brain, reminded me of a book I recently read, “The Power of Now” by Eckhart Tolle. Being “a guide to spiritual enlightenment” and using my left-side-of-the-brain logic, I was a bit skeptical to the effect of Tolle’s teachings on my life. The concept of living in the present is not new and is taught by psychologists, as well: the past cannot be changed. The future is not here and as much as we plan for it, our actions are always in the present. So there is no other time than the present time and that is the only time we can control. In his book, Tolle explains this concept as the spiritual essence of human beings, wrapping all faiths, their definition of God and spirits, into one central them, the now. He shares his teaching on how to learn to live in the present, and how to achieve, or strive for, spiritual enlightenment, by living in the now.

How does it all circle back to us, as artists?

I think it is more than just being a creative people. More than just utilizing our right-side of the brain in better ways. Think about it. What is art? It is the manifestation of our sensory system in illogical ways. It exists only in the present, as we immerse ourselves in observing and/or creating the art. The more we focus our sensors to what we see, what is around us, we can better represent it in the art form. We forget where we are and who we are and we are just there. At that moment. And our artwork is a manifestation of our inner selves. Other people tap into our present. When they observe our art, it is their present, their sensors telling their right side of their brains that they are seeing something beautiful/great/gruesome/provocative. Our moment in time becomes their moment in time.

But then, we also need to make a living. And that is where our left brain takes control. Planning our future, learning from our past. Calculating how to get there. What we need to learn, what we have to develop. Sometimes it takes over and creates “surviving-art”. Art that will sell well because of marketing studies shows it sells well. Art that makes a lot of money because it is trendy and sought-after. But it might not be us. We reside in the right side of our brain, and we have to train ourselves to tap into it and be our best creative selves.

And that, for us, is a spiritual salvation, isn’t it?

Cheers

Moshe

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Worth the Trip: Dali at the High

“The Maximum Speed of Raphael’s Madonna” (1954) is one of the paintings included in the exhibition “Dalí: The Late Work,” at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta. (Credit: Erik S. Lesser for The New York Times)

by Emily Brown

The upturned mustache and beady eyes of Salvador Dali now cover billboards and buses in Atlanta. In August, the excitement of the Dali exhibit began as the High Museum welcomed this eccentric artist’s later works to Atlanta.

Recently I attended the exhibition with friends on a balmy Friday evening for Jazz Night, held on the third Friday of every month combining live music, cocktails and, of course, fabulous art. In between sips of Salvador Sangria, the conversation buzzed about the mystique and expertise of this Spanish artist.

Putting down cocktail glasses and stepping away from the music-filled atrium, the story of Salvador begins.

Entering the exhibit, you will feel as though his bulging black eyes are watching you – in bold photographs, quotes and film. You learn he is from Spain and has a passion for the Catalonia region.

The first two galleries, containing mustache shapes and photographs, try to prepare you for what is to come. However, when his art takes over – get ready – it’s terrifically tantalizing.

Take, for example, “The Speed of Raphael’s Madonna,” with its vibrant lazuline background containing floating rhinoceros horns. Dali was fascinated with the rhinoceros horn because its growth patterns are congruent with mathematical formulas.

Put on the 3D glasses to view his work in holograms. Sit down in a lip-shaped chair to find the hidden images in his work.  Ever thought of playing chess with finger pieces? Dali’s chess set, a homage to Marcel Duchamp, will fascinate you with its unusual pieces. Check out the film documenting his life and find out how Dali hob-knobbed with the likes of Andy Warhol. Can you imagine soup cans melting on a staircase?

The exhibit contains works not seen in the United States for more than 50 years as well as generous pieces loaned by the Salvador Dali Museum in St. Petersburg, Fla. From this exhibit you begin to gather a sense of a man who dissected images with fervor and energy, producing art in many forms including jewelry.

My top five Dali-isms from the exhibit:

  1. He loved his wife. Dali married his beloved Gala in Paris on Jan. 30, 1934. Gala was in many of Dali’s works including “Madonna of Port Lligat” in which she is recast as the Virgin.
  2. His work was often inspired by dreams. Think about your dreams. Can you imagine someone seeing them? Dali’s work brings form to these chaotic collages in the mind.  I wonder what Dali would think about the new movie Inception.
  3. He appreciated classicism and worked in surrealism. He declared himself a classicist in 1938 after meeting with Freud. “You have to systematically create confusion, it sets creativity free,” said Dali. “Everything that is contradictory creates life.”
  4. He used science to justify faith. Dali’s art became a medium for him to explore his faith through psychology, science and religion. For example, in “Assumpta Corpuscularia Lapislazulina,” Dali projects the ascent of the Virgin (with the face of Gala) as the result not of a miracle, but an atomic reaction. His late works chronicle his return to Roman Catholicism.
  5. He used symbols to convey meaning. See ants? Think decay. Find hidden keys? It might just mean unlocking ideas. Dali packed layers of meaning into his work by using natural imagery.

Dali’s work will probably never be part of my home décor, but seeing it so close inspired me as he used his passion and skill to create brilliant absurdity in his juxtaposed realities.

A few logistical things. Get there by January; the exhibit ends Jan. 9, 2011. Consider going on a week day to prevent an elbow tango with other Dali fans.  The High Museum (www.high.org) is located in Atlanta Georgia on 1280 Peachtree Street; an easy drive down I-85. Ticket prices vary on age: $18 adults; $15 students and seniors; $11 children (ages 5-17).

Hinged

“My Mind Will Never Be” by Art Rosenbaum (artrosenbaum.org)

Hinged

by Emily Brown

In college I had a creative writing professor who challenged us to write about art — to imagine ourselves in the narrative of a canvas. Ever since Dr. Judith Cofer challenged us as writers to dig for rhythms, figures of speech and language in strokes of color, I have never looked at art the same way: each piece of art is now a trove of stories for me.

Dr. Cofer changed my perspective about a lot of things in life, and it often started by introducing me to someone or something I had not known before. Dr. Cofer introduced me to Art Rosenbaum, an Athens, Ga., based artist whose art, like Sharon’s, easily lends itself to the roots of a story. Their style is strikingly different, but they both capture snapshots of everyday life, translating words with vivid strokes of color. Art’s style lends more to folk visions and voices, but both he and Sharon have a gift for making art an open ended conversation.

Here is, “Hinged,” a story that I have written about Art Rosenbaum’s piece, “My Mind Will Never Be.” (See image of painting above).

diptych [dip-tik]:

1. a hinged two leaved tablet

2. a tablet of wood or metal containing on one leaf the names of those among the living, and on the other those among the dead, for whom prayers and Masses are said.

The wisps of grass are soft and smooth, tickling her feet. She knows no other sweetness than Southern comforts: tomato aspic, gravel roads, fiddle drones and pink calla lilies.

When she feels the shiny lacquer of the wooden floors, she begins to feel something inside her change.  The blades of grass become tendrils, lifeless ringlets twining her body.

Don’t slam the door, Papa always says. But she hates the creaking of the door hinges.

Her eyelids crease with tiny folds of uncertainty. She looks up, pining for even the smallest shard of freedom in a mosaic of streaming light.

Although she might regret the choice, she steps onward, remembering His words: peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.

She hates the creaking of the door hinges.

"Paint by Credits"

By Emily Brown

Go see Robin Hood while it’s still out in theaters – grab a popcorn, savor the Milk Duds, watch Russell Crowe woo you with his courageous stunts and let Cate Blanchett swoon you with her cool aplomb…and then stay for the credits. The nine minutes of credits are a gift tucked at the end of two hours and twenty minutes of ragged warriors, flaming arrows and fair maidens. Let me explain.

The credits transitioned on and off the screen in a painting backdrop. Think bold colors with lots of verve. The animated paint job recapped the movie, encapsulating the movie in swirls of color that imbued energy and movement and also offering glimpses of Robin Hood’s biography through a series of colorful flashbacks. The painted credits mapped a journey through animated canvasses of color.

There was something so intriguing about the intersection between the illusions of painting intertwined with the medium of film. The credits embedded in the “painting” invite you to think about how movies, like painting, are a way to capture an angle of a story. It took me back to childhood moments of awe when reading a story — when you want to turn the next page because of the vivid pictures.

A self professed traditionalist, sometimes digital spins on art, despite their best intention, just don’t capture the real thing for me. Take for example this movie. The Tower of London, which was recreated digitally, just doesn’t quite feel like the place where I stood in line to see the Crown Jewels.

The painted credits, however, work, fascinating me to think about how art can be a series of compilations, pulling from memory, form, experience, but most importantly stories.

Emily Brown's "Chiaroscuro"

photo by SBM

(Chiaroscuro (kiːˈɑːrə.ˈskʊroʊ, –ˈskjʊroʊ, Italian for light-dark) in art is characterized by strong contrasts between light and dark, usually bold contrasts affecting a whole composition. It is also a technical term used by artists and art historians for using contrasts of light to achieve a sense of volume in modeling three-dimensional objects such as the human body.)

I have a new section in my art blog called, “Chiaroscuro.” Emily Brown has been kind enough to start writing  entries for my blog about art. She  admits that her art skills consist of stick figures and doodles, so she sticks to writing instead. However, she loves learning more about art, especially through traveling. And I believe she has interesting perspectives to share.

A graduate of the University of Georgia with a degree in journalism, she has a soft spot for gelato, handmade paper and Chianti after studying abroad in Cortona, Italy. She ran her first marathon in 2010 after meeting Mickey for the first time in Disney, and she is now hooked on marathon running and will run the NYC Marathon in November. In addition to writing and running, she enjoys cooking recipes from Real Simple, reading of all kinds, traveling, photography and games of Scrabble.

Stay tuned for regular entries by Emily. Happy reading!

"Idle Mind?"

This past week I received a phone call from an old and dear friend who I have not talked to in many months. She asked me how I was doing… on and on.. Finally, she asked if I was working (like a real corporate job) or if I was just hanging out?
I must admit, I was surprised by the two options since I thought she knew I had been working as a full-time, professional artist for over five years now. A bit bothered, I blurted out that not only did I work full-time, but nights and weekends, too.
My well-intended friend meant no harm. But I must admit I was bothered by her misunderstanding of my “job.”
Today, I received a newsletter from a fellow artist that I wish to share. The story in this newsletter has given me a renewed perspective regarding my friend’s comments… and my chosen career.
Enjoy!

From “Robert Genn Twice-Weekly Letter”  http://painterskeys.com/

My idle mind

May 18, 2010

The other day I got into a Brain Measuring Machine and was asked to do nothing in particular. “You’re older,” said the technician, “so you may have trouble turning off. Younger people seem to be able to switch around at will. They tend to be not quite as rigid as seniors. So don’t worry. Just try to relax.” This suggestion gave me a bad attitude about the University. I thought about withdrawing my financial support.

After a few minutes of doing nothing in particular, with nothing to read, not even a brain chart on the wall, even an old phrenological one, I found myself mellowing out. I indulged my regular visions of loosening up and working fresher and more like Nicolai Fechin. Then a few nude oils of Anders Zorn tiptoed through and I wondered if my handler was party to them on her monitor.

My attachments began to itch. I’d been warned that to scratch might prejudice my readouts, so I kept my hands away from my noggin. I became extremely uneasy. It was like some years ago when, as part of an encounter group, I was asked to stare at myself in a mirror, without blinking, for half an hour. On that occasion I watched myself grow horns and become James Cagney. But now I began to see myself as a particularly vacuous and empty-headed know-nothing. Who was I to claim to be an artist?

Out of the corner of my eye I could see my inquisitor, now distinctly Tomas de Torquemada, bent over and taking notes in red ink with a large feather quill.

Finally, like a Model A Ford going down a hill in second gear, I heard the computer digesting and putting out its various reports. “Well,” she said, unplugging me and pulling on a long graph like an EEG printout, “Very active, surprisingly active really. You processed a lot of emotional info through your amygdala and your caudate nucleus comes off as pretty busy too.” She paused to study the multiple lines that I took to be my medial prefrontal cortex. “A little idling there, but all over the place, like you do something very busy and finicky like quantum physics. Are you from the Physics Department?” I knew she was fishing. I don’t think she was supposed to know what I did for a living. “What do you do?” she asked, as I was putting on my shoes. “I’m a painter,” I said. “House?” she asked. “Picture,” I said. “Okay,” she said, “but what do you actually do?”

Thanks, Robert~!

Greenville’s RiverPlace

I had the opportunity to spend last weekend in Greenville, S.C. with my sister, Suzanne. Suzanne was in Greenville to attend a Mulitple Sclerosis Board Retreat. and I was invited to join her!

I was completely amazed at not only how wonderful Greenville’s downtown area was, but also their thriving art community. Greenville’s downtown is both southern “small-town,” yet cosmopolitan. Speckled throughout a festive and lovely Main Street are multitudes of unique shops, restaurants, outdoor cafes, theaters and art galleries. Of particular interest was the RiverPlace area of downtown, nestled on the Reedy River, adorned with gorgeous overpasses and bridges and filled with all kinds of people walking and enjoying the beauty of such a wonderful place.

The Art Crossing Studios, nestled in the lower level of RiverPlace along the Reedy River, house twenty or so artists and offer a great variety of art in every medium. If the weather is nice, you’ll see artists outside painting, drawing or sculpting. Otherwise, you can visit them inside their studios, creating new works of art.

I stopped in a couple of the studios and wanted to share a couple of their links in the hope you will visit the artists to see the incredible works for yourself:

http://artcrossing.org/

http://artcrossingstudios.blogspot.com/

http://www.guystevensart.com/

http://catestevenspaints.blogspot.com/

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Greenville-SC/Art-Crossing-at-Riverplace/141906370667

As well, here are some links to art galleries, exhibits and events in Greenville:

http://www.greenvillearts.com/news/exhibits.aspx

http://www.artisphere.us/

Enjoy!!!!

Have you visited a great art gallery lately?

I do not profess to being an art critic. A long time ago it became clear to me that people love and enjoy all kinds of artwork. People have different tastes in art and varying opinions about what constitutes “art.” The one “take-away” for me has become an appreciation for creativity in all forms.  Having no formal art education, I have found that I truly enjoy visiting art galleries and shops. I get inspired and lifted by the works of others, particularly those works that differ from my own craft. I learn things about art and about myself that I did not know before. My interest is to offer a forum for sharing creativity with others as we travel –  if only down the road.

As more and more art sales move online, it’s crucial that we continue to patronise and support our favourite ‘bricks and mortar’ art galleries in our towns and cities. Only there can we experience art in a way that can be impossible to find online.

If you have a favourite art gallery or artist, why not take a minute to comment on this page… or, do a quick write-up, review and me the links?  contact@sharonkearns.com I would love to include your thoughts here!

The carrot…

One of the great things about being an artist is being able to do crafty things around the house. We recently completed some renovating. During the process I ended up having to paint several rooms. Painting rooms is not exactly my idea of fun. But, obviously painting is something that I can do to save a few bucks. So, the “carrot at the end of the stick’ for me was to also do some little projects that I have wanted to do for years..

Soooo, placemats and a floor cloth for the kitchen…

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…coordinating,  painted plates above the kitchen sink… (My sister did the beautiful stained glass!!!)

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A floorcloth for the foyer…  and another for the adjacent bathroom…

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I was really pleased with the floorcloths and the effect it created in my home. I would love to take about a month and paint a really large one for my sunporch and front foyer! (Maybe one day!!!) For now, it is back to my real job… painting pictures!