A
couple of weeks ago while I was docenting at the FEC gallery during
a concert, a woman came in to the gallery during the second half
of the concert just to walk around, she said. After her recent
surgery, sitting for long periods was too hard for her. She spent
the entire second half of the concert looking at the pictures
and talking with me. The show was the Rent-A-Rod show of local
artists' work. She studied each painting on the wall in great
length. She read the titles, the poems, she put her nose up against
the glass to study details. I've never seen anyone look as long
and as hard as she did that night. Usually we look and we know
right away whether we like something or not and we move on to
the next painting, and the next and the next. I'm guilty of doing
just that, not spending enough time looking and understanding
what the work is about, or seeing how it fits into the artist's
world and mine.
Finally,
at the end of her viewing, I asked, Did you find a favorite? She
pointed to Birgit Lyon's painting on the end wall. That one, she
said. I asked, Why? I wanted to know because when I looked at
this painting, I thought it a visually and emotionally powerful
work, but I saw dogs, with long floppy ears, eyes like dark holes,
mouths agape, screaming. To me, it looked like the dogs were wearing
gas masks. I sensed from the whole "tone" of the work
it was about fear and the apocalypse. But I really didn't understand
it.
This
woman proceeded to tell me why she liked it so much. She brought
her own life experiences to the act of viewing, interpreting the
work in the light of her own knowledge of the Bible's story. Knowledge
I don't have. She said it was people screaming during the flood
because they were afraid they were going to miss the ark - that
they were not going to be of the chosen few who were saved.
Her
words enlightened me. Humbled me. Her insight was a gift. All
this time I thought it was dogs! I had dogs on the brain. I had
a doggy fur ball rolling around in my head! Of course immediately
I felt like an idiot, but then I thought, well, I had simply seen
and interpreted Birgit's painting differently than this woman.
Not everybody sees the same thing. But the feeling or emotion
imparted to me by the painting was the same.
Feeling
very humbled, I asked, Are you an artist? No, she said, but I
have taken a few classes with Oliver. Oliver's Art Studio in Old
Town Florence.
Before
surgeries had consumed her time and energy, she was one of Weldon
Oliver's art students. She had never picked up a brush before
in her life. She never knew she would develop an interest in painting,
or that she might even be able to do it. One day she just thought
she'd try it.
Weldon
teaches oil painting to beginners. No pretensions. He makes people
feel comfortable about being beginners. He makes them believe
they can do it. He makes art and painting fun for people who have
never experienced it or who might have been too terrified to even
think about picking up a brush on their own. You remember those
parking signs that said "Don't even think about it!"?
Well, that's the tape that plays over and over in our minds when
we think we can never paint or never draw a straight line. Don't
even think about picking up a brush! it says over and over. Weldon
teaches, step by step. He shows his students how to mix colors,
how to paint trees, water, reflections, skies, clouds. His students
follow, and like my wonderful conversation companion in the FEC
gallery, they enjoy the brand new experience of making a painting.
At the end of the day they take home a painting with their signature
on it and a bit of surprise in their hearts and a great deal of
satisfaction with their efforts.
As
with all teaching of art, Weldon's students are not only introduced
to oil painting, but in the very process of learning how to
paint they are learning how to look at the world around
them in fresh new ways, seeing values, colors, shapes and
light. It's a given. And they are learning how to look at art
in news ways, looking closely at brushstrokes, colors, values
and materials and mediums and subject. Most importantly, they
are discovering they can appreciate and interpret this work anew,
with new eyes. My friend at the FEC gallery made the importance
of seeing anew quite clear for me when she shared her beautiful
insight - she a novice and me an experienced painter who thought
I had nothing left to learn.