Today I went to see the Matisse exhibit at the Minneapolis Institute of Art. I asked my family and friends but was unable to find anyone interested or able to attend; I did wait until hours before, not even days. I don't know if that means spontaneity is dead or not....
What most excited me about the Matisse exhibit was Matisse; learning about the man. He loved to work. When he tired of painting or felt there was nothing left to paint, he turned to sculpture and prints. When he was at the height of his popularity, he went to Nice to paint new things. He seems to have that thirst I feel to write; to explore with words...Thirst seems like the right word. Matisse was in love with form, lines and color. He sounds endlessly thirsty.
So, the one piece I can't forget. Because there is always one, isn't there? Mine was a black and white drawing which had a placard with a quote of Matisse, "You shouldn't have to have color to see color." I kept going back to look at this picture of a young woman, sitting, facing Matisse, wearing an Indian Sari with a head dress. I could see the red and yellow silk. The lines created color without color. Amazing! I keep remembering the sweetness in the girl's face. She looked happy. He caught this look of being happy, a sort of I am happy just as I am, on her face.
There were a lot of photographs of Matisse included in the exhibit. There were even film clips. Most of the photos showed a thoughtful image. He wore old fashioned glasses; he often looked stern, thoughtful, preoccupied, closed off. There was a self portrait, again a black and white sketch, where I could see his eyes well. They were wonderfully warm, open and friendly with a humorous tilt. He looked like someone I could pass and exchange a few words with on the street. He was that guy in a hat, standing, looking up and studying the day outside.
Matisse also said, (paraphrasing} that he liked to draw windows. He didn't see them as boundaries but a part of a painting or a part of the world. I have been thinking about houses as a refuge and prison during this long Minnesota winter, I feel trapped by the cold but at the same time, I don't go out enough when the weather gets warmer. In other words, alternating between trapped and stuck.
That hardiness to go out, to take in some cold, is a mental adjustment, more than a physical one. Seeing a window as, not part of a structure but a piece sitting in space makes me see the world as one huge landscape, with structures placed in it. The feeling of freedom was created in my mind through this bigger perspective.
I noticed the change in my thinking even on my way out, walking to the parking lot. I took a deep breath of the air. It is really, sweeter now, with a hint of life. Anyone who has lived with Winter knows this early Spring smell, combined of warming ground and plants.
On my way home, I realized the snow, melting and browned with dirt, had shapes. The shapes were like released animals; polar bears humped over, birds with flattened wings, sunning themselves. Instead of looking for the green grass in the brown, trying to see Spring, I could see primitive shapes in the lines and forms of snow. Spending two hours with some of the Matisse's work, translated to the world outside. Weird and wonderful.
I believe seeing the world differently is what Matisse or anyone who does art, wants for us. Even though he said, paraphrasing again, one of his greatest disappointments was the world didn't seem to really get his art, I think I see, at least part, of what he was trying to communicate. Maybe, Matisse was trying to help us see the beauty in the lines found everywhere in our world. Don't look at the lines as boundaries, don't just look for the what you already know of the form of something. Look at the beauty and perfection of the lines. He was saying stop, stand and look.
Margot
NOTE: This is the first in a series of letters and short essays called Letters To My Dad. My Dad passed away in 2006. He was a college professor of English and a writer; intelligent, sensitive, thoughtful, with a deep voice and a great deal of vitality. He took me to art museums, films and encouraged my twin sister and I to be creative.
There were a lot of photographs of Matisse included in the exhibit. There were even film clips. Most of the photos showed a thoughtful image. He wore old fashioned glasses; he often looked stern, thoughtful, preoccupied, closed off. There was a self portrait, again a black and white sketch, where I could see his eyes well. They were wonderfully warm, open and friendly with a humorous tilt. He looked like someone I could pass and exchange a few words with on the street. He was that guy in a hat, standing, looking up and studying the day outside.
Matisse also said, (paraphrasing} that he liked to draw windows. He didn't see them as boundaries but a part of a painting or a part of the world. I have been thinking about houses as a refuge and prison during this long Minnesota winter, I feel trapped by the cold but at the same time, I don't go out enough when the weather gets warmer. In other words, alternating between trapped and stuck.
That hardiness to go out, to take in some cold, is a mental adjustment, more than a physical one. Seeing a window as, not part of a structure but a piece sitting in space makes me see the world as one huge landscape, with structures placed in it. The feeling of freedom was created in my mind through this bigger perspective.
I noticed the change in my thinking even on my way out, walking to the parking lot. I took a deep breath of the air. It is really, sweeter now, with a hint of life. Anyone who has lived with Winter knows this early Spring smell, combined of warming ground and plants.
On my way home, I realized the snow, melting and browned with dirt, had shapes. The shapes were like released animals; polar bears humped over, birds with flattened wings, sunning themselves. Instead of looking for the green grass in the brown, trying to see Spring, I could see primitive shapes in the lines and forms of snow. Spending two hours with some of the Matisse's work, translated to the world outside. Weird and wonderful.
I believe seeing the world differently is what Matisse or anyone who does art, wants for us. Even though he said, paraphrasing again, one of his greatest disappointments was the world didn't seem to really get his art, I think I see, at least part, of what he was trying to communicate. Maybe, Matisse was trying to help us see the beauty in the lines found everywhere in our world. Don't look at the lines as boundaries, don't just look for the what you already know of the form of something. Look at the beauty and perfection of the lines. He was saying stop, stand and look.
Margot
NOTE: This is the first in a series of letters and short essays called Letters To My Dad. My Dad passed away in 2006. He was a college professor of English and a writer; intelligent, sensitive, thoughtful, with a deep voice and a great deal of vitality. He took me to art museums, films and encouraged my twin sister and I to be creative.
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