Fog bound this morning. By mid afternoon the greenhouse feeling was back. Cooler though for finishing most of the painting in the living room. White walls now, gallery like. A good change. Clean lines apparent.
Hot and humid doing yoga before dinner. Just tired from mid-day onward. So a long viparita karani was in order. I almost quit after that one very long pose. But then shoulder stand beckoned to me. David was in the room on the sofa while I practised. He'd napped there earlier. We talked a bit, which made the entire practice a bit odd, but still doable, more like a class. I stretched my hands out on the wall at shoulder height, stiff from holding the paint brush. David helped me line up my chair for a supported shoulder stand. He stuffed a white blanket behind my back which helped to open up my chest. I did a few variations with my legs after a while. Then a long savasana, eyes closed, observing the colours that slid across my inner field of vision.
Later on I wanted to download an image from my camera and realized I hadn't downloaded all the photos I took in the USA on my recent trip home. Tons of images from Mass Moca in Massachusetts. The Material World exhibit was amazing. Environmental exhibits, made to order to fit that exact space. One room filled with cavernous white paper that climbed skyward, up a staircase and into the next room above. Another room or two filled with red rope knitted and knotted in huge sections that flowed over the floor and walls. Sol Lewitt's building, the three floors of his installation, is the most breathtaking for me, perhaps due to the size of his exhibit. Vast beyond imagining. But the work itself is captivating. Difficult to express how clean lines and huge shapes can make such an impression. His exhibit will run for 25 years and then be painted over. His work was completed by others. He drew the analogy of being a composer who gave the directions for others to follow, the musicians. Other artists created this exhibit, following Sol Lewitt's directions. Run to see this exhibit. Well, even walk, you have 25 years before it is over.
My breath really left my body though at Chesterwood, Daniel Chester French's home and studio in Massachusetts, that is now a national historic site. His studio especially just left me gasping for calmness. Yes he worked large (one of his best known works is the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C.), but the building devoted to his work was so spacious, well lit and just perfect in many ways it left me filled with silence. Unpretentious. I could see him working in the smallest room, could feel him there. The property alone was huge, 122 acres with wooded trails and vast lawns. From another era entirely, but it spoke to me and dare I say it would speak to many besides me.
Recognition. That's what it did for his art. His studio unmistakenly recognized the importance of art in his life.
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