Acrylic landscape practice

A landscape that exists only in my imagination. Lesson learned: it’s hard to make sense of light and colour when there’s no reference (i know that’s obvious to the point of “duh!”, but sometimes the idea of a painting is so strong that I just want to give it a try).

Blood, Water, Paint

The first time I saw Artemisia Gentileschi’s painting Judith Beheading Holofernes, I was astonished. Something about it felt real –  like lived experience – though I couldn’t say if it was the expression on Holofernes face, the weight of the women holding him down, or the blood on the bed.

I looked Artemisia Gentileschi up and discovered that she was a master painter of the renaissance era. Her paintings stayed on my radar, but I didn’t dig into who she was until a couple of weeks ago when I read a review on the Artnet News blog about a book called Blood, Water, Paint written by Joy McCullough.

The book tells the story of Gentileschi’s relationship to painting and the world of men she lived in – and of her rape by one of her father’s business acquaintances, Agostino Tassi. Artemisia’s father took Tassi to court, but the one who ended up on trial was the young Artemisia.

During Tassi’s seven-month trial, midwives physically examined Gentileschi in front of a judge, who then demanded that her hands be tortured in order to see if she changed her story under pressure. The saga is meticulously documented in some 300 pages of court records ...”  Excerpt from Artnet News review

The book is written mostly in spare verse and is a powerful read.

“i blink
try to shake off
the weight of a gaze
I never welcomed
from a man
who now occupies
my studio …”

Artemisia was seventeen when she was raped. The rape trial was held in 1612 in Rome and she painted the first version of Judith Beheading Holofernes (above) in 1614, when she was just twenty years old. (She painted a second version – almost identical – in 1620-21).

The parts I like

I just took a week to do some painting (acrylic and pastel). I wanted to focus on technique, but there was so much to figure out and so many things that could, and did, go wrong that I was overwhelmed. I pushed on and painted one lifeless piece after another.

Somewhere mid-week, I realized that learning to paint – learning to get down what’s in my head – is going to be a long road and I should probably try to approach it with some softness and lightness (the thought helped).  My daughter said I should make a quilt of all the small corners of the paintings that I liked. I thought that was a grand idea so here’s a mock up of what my quilt would look like after this week. One day maybe I’ll print it on fabric and sew it up.

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