Experiences of Art Series: Interview with Joyce T.

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“White Spot Patio” 2017 DS

Bio:

  • Born in Dumfries, Scotland where Robbie Burns (famous poet) was buried
  • Family of musicians (6 generations of mouth organ, accordion, violin, guitar, organ), loves the bagpipes and dancing
  • Worked for the Vancouver School Board
  • Has a vast collection of pink roses and rose memorabilia

Art:

  • Oil on canvas, 4’ x 3’, ornate gold frame (made by the artist too)
  • “Heart Lake” on Vancouver Island with soft pinks and greys (a lake she has never seen)
  • Painting was bought when she was 21, a visit with her parents to the artist’s gallery (her classmate from high school’s father Mr. Kaip who was moving to Vancouver Island)

“Something about the painting called out to me. I just loved the colours and the sense of peace it gave me. I guess I must have some artistic sense.

I have had it in every home I have lived in over the decades. It has been in my bedroom and living room. Right now it is in the upstairs hallway.

I will tell my sculptor son it’s history one day and leave it to him.”

Joyce T.

We met at the White Spot at Park Royal. In fact Joyce invited me and blessed me twice with an interview and a lunch on her. I am intrigued by this giving of interviews with various people who rarely talk about art yet their passion sparkles their eyes as they are asked the same question: “Is there a piece of art that has a particular meaning for you – from art history, your own childhood etc.?” DS

http://www.hellobc.com/ladysmith/things-to-do/outdoor-activities/hiking.aspx

 

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Experiences of Art Series: an interview with Deborah T.

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“Starbucks, Cap. Mall”  2017 DS

Deborah T.’s Bio:

– Web designer, business coach

– Paints watercolour animals, landscapes

– Has lived in Vancouver for 20 years

We met at Starbucks for the interview. Deborah T. let me know that she has travelled the world taking groups with her. She held ‘café talks’ to find interested solo travellers for her trips. She complimented me on the genuine followers I have for my blog.

The Art:

– An oil painting, 24” x 24”, hangs above her living room sofa

So the meaning of the art piece she chose to discuss dawned on me gradually as she described her experience of art.

A painting of a photograph

A photograph of an experience

A hot air balloon ride

No balloon appears, only the blues and green of the landscape below

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hot_air_balloon

Deborah met the talented artist Amy Joy Dyck, through a coaching client on the balloon trip. The trip was a birthday gift to her partner from his family. She commissioned a unique piece of art from someone really talented as a way to preserve this memory.

Deborah wants to give a shout out to Amy:

http://amyjdyck.com/about-the-artist/

 

Back in the Studio

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“Morning has Broken”  iPhone Photo DS

It has been a long winter and spring. Snow, snow, snow and cold, it is so unlike Vancouver. Survival mode had kicked in and chores, errands, duties, and disciplined study had taken over. Painting had been only cerebral. Images sometimes came and went unheeded. Planning for shows has absorbed me all spring. I determined to spend more than a few minutes in the studio this sunny day.

A leisurely breakfast with my loved one, a slow shower, then some e-mails were read. When I had completed my ablutions, I found my painting clothes in the bottom of the closet. In them I felt free. In their messiness I was a worker – a worker bee (my name Deborah means honeybee). Yes, I am ready for MY work, the work that is me.

This would be a contemplative day – albeit more on the ‘labora’ side of ‘ora and labora’ (pray and work) of the ancient monks. It had been so long since I had touched a couple of unfinished paintings I prayed specifically that God would help me. I did not want to deconstruct what I had built up so far.

A step outside into the fresh fragrant morning, I breathed, as if I was now truly alive. Rhododendrons bloomed red, hot pink, fuchsia, purple. The studio unlocked, I searched for pots of paint in the colours I had envisioned. One was dried up but the lids unscrewed easily enough. I noticed a small hole in the screen window with the mountain view.

I knocked over a red Folger’s coffee can of brushes from high on my shelf. They fell on and behind a stack of completed paintings. This is how I get my exercise today.

The studio used to be a hot tub building. It has plumbing but not a sink. The hose is right outside the door, so convenient for me to fill a water bucket.

The bucket reminds me of my childhood. When I visited my grandmother in N. B. water was pulled up by a metal bucket from a well. This ancient practice is added to the painting history back as far as the caves. Like a monk, I gather water, paints, and pray. This day I feel grounded and most like myself. I am truly me when I paint, the one I was made to be before I was born. Today I paint the telegraph cross that has lain dormant in my imagination for years.  I do not wonder at all if it will sell.

Experiences of Art Series: Werner S.

IMG_1395“Opera Cafe” DS

Interview at Opera Cafe

Bio:

– Retired engineer

– Bought first piece of art with his pocket money – a watercolour of goldfish

– From a family of architects, engineers, farmers and watchmakers of the Black Forest

Art:

– Print of a forest, black on white fabric

– 4 feet wide, 8 feet high

– Natural edges

“It just appeared one day in my youth. My father brought it home saying he bought it. He gave no details. He determined to hang it in our modernist dining room in the suburbs. I always felt it was misplaced there because it limited its visual impact. It hung silently in my parents’ home for five decades.

Now I have inherited the print. It hangs like family history in the glassed entryway here on the North Shore of Vancouver. It acts as a foil to the green trees surrounding the house. It is visible best from the dining room.

I had holidayed in the Black Forest at my great aunt’s place one summer. Her husband taught me the rudiments of mechanical engineering. I was quite good at it. This was not surprising to the family. I am part of the old stock.

Every time I look at it, it has a different meaning for me. It represents distance and closeness to me in the psychological sense. I feel challenged somehow when I look at it. Of all the pieces we inherited from Germany it is the most meaningful.”

IMG_1401“Forest Print – Black Dye on White Fabric” DS

IMG_1406“Back Deck Forest” DS

 

“The Future of Christianity” by Alister E. McGrath

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What a good book! On April 8th while attending The North Shore Writers’ Festival luncheon circle with authors, I noticed a display of books near the door to the room. It was the week before Easter and there was an eclectic display of Christian books on various topics. I signed out “The Future of Christianity” by Alister E. McGrath.

I knew of the trusted Prof. McGrath from Oxford University through my years of part-time study at Regent College, UBC. A couple of weeks later as I started reading the book I was hooked by his bringing together of historical and political facts as precursor to the current unsettled condition of the Western church. My curiosity was piqued to read his take on the ways the church is changing and how to position myself to accept reasonable adjustments in the way we do church going into the future.

This is not a review or a summary. Upfront I want to say, I cannot do this book justice, but will only highlight a few things for readers to be encouraged in the way forward. As St. Benedict said, we are always beginners. There is much to know. This is the main thing I learned at seminary. The Gospel remains the same but the Christian in the world changes over time and culture.

So one thing is for sure, in order to understand the way forward, we need to know where we have come from and where we are right now. Dr. McGrath is particularly effective in pulling together the big picture of the church in culture and defining the essence of where the church is now across the globe. The following is a remnant of what can be feasted on in this book written for scholars and not.

There is much history of how things with Christianity in all its forms got the way it is today. One thing I noted was of McGrath’s explanation of a major factor affecting the church during WWII was in Hitler presenting his ideas to the church as a renewing of German culture. Sadly, and a warning for us, is that eventually the church became so much like the culture that it could not critique it with the noted exceptions of writers Karl Barth and Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

After the shock of the wars, there was a spiritual vacuum, leading to the ‘Death of God’ movement in the 1960’s and other factors. Many thought that Christianity would be no more: “This surge of enthusiasm often led to the suspension of any critical faculties… The sweeping aside of traditional morality was seen as purely liberating at the time. It was fun to be able to sleep with whoever you liked and do whatever you pleased. It all seemed so innocent. The darker side of things was there to be seen… the truth could not be suppressed forever… decriminalization of paedophilia.” One can easily fill in the blanks of the long ranging effects of this movement in Paris. A long litany of historical events, large and small, illustrates the results of the: “rupture of the centuries-long cycle of intergenerational transmission of the Christian faith.”

Even some uncritical theologians abandoned the faith and former Christians “thinking Christianity had nothing to offer in relation to the supernatural of mysterious” were attracted to New Age practices. Add to this the fact that the “Enlightenment lost any remaining credibility” with its “demand that everything should be neatly ordered, rational, and logical” and you have the perfect storm that led to Postmodernism.

Christianity has now been commodified and marketed as a spiritual product: “A successful church was now seen as a church that grew” so that “Western churches outreach” was seen as the “McDonaldization of Christianity.” “Efficiency, calculability, predictability and control” now informed the model. Yet there remains: “a longing for spiritual authenticity.”

In my oversimplified and truncated picture of events there is seen the result that Christianity remains the largest religion in the world. As it cooled in North America and Europe, faith has spread like wildfire in Asia, Africa, and Latin America – so much so that they send missionaries now to re-invigorate personal faith in the West. It is a grand story and McGrath tells it well. Much of his forth-telling of possible future trends is unfolding now – a full 15 years after his book was written. Of note are his descriptions of how each strand of Christianity can continue to right itself to face a drastically changing world with the unchanging Gospel told and lived in both new and ancient ways.

There is a move toward forming Christ-centred community churches that care for the people around them over churches that do not attract by their denominational differences and doctrinal squabbles. The Bible is paraphrased informally to include the unchurched. McGrath relays the thought that rather than more academic theologians, what the world needs now, is a movement of amateur theologians: novelists like C.S. Lewis and Dorothy L. Sayers etc. He says that some of the American megachurches are becoming like the “medieval monasteries plant[ing] smaller monasteries in outlying regions, resourced by the mother house until they were deemed strong enough to be self-sufficient.” He states: “The future of Christianity will be deeply shaped by this major new trend.”

Enough said. Actually, God is very much alive. There is the necessity though that churches get with the program that God has. What is the Spirit saying to confused churches in this so-called post-Christian cultural mash-up? Jesus came that we might have abundant life. He also turned culture upside down – especially for and by God’s people. Isn’t confusion one of the precursors of change?

Painting Pink Trees

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“Pink Trees, UBC” iPhone Photo DS 2017

Dreams of pink flutterings suffuse my night. Are we sleeping under a pink tree? Is the bed covered in petals?

After writing an early morning blog post a memory surfaced. It is part of my birth story. I was a long awaited child. I was born when the apple trees were in full bloom, my mother would often say. So, here’s the thing: the more often we seek God, the more often we come to know something about ourselves.

So what is all the excitement about this month? Easter, of course – nothing can top that. Jesus’ resurrection is the basis for the Christian faith – our daily life. It is the foundation of our love – that he first loved us. He is our Source, our Sustainer, and our Goal in life.

One of God’s gifts that particularly excites my artist’s heart is the abundance of pink-petaled trees around town. When I first moved to Vancouver from Toronto there were things about this place that overwhelmed me with their beauty: the mountains, the trees, the ocean – and the pink trees (originally gifts from Japan I hear).

When I walk the streets in the sun, my eyes are filled with pinkness. Shear happiness fills my senses. One year and each subsequent year I thought of heaven and the streets of gold written about there. And I thought to myself that this day, on this street, in this rain, with pink petals flowing into the gutters, that God’s gift in the Spring of Vancouver is streets not lined with gold but with pink – a taste of heaven, yes. Again this year, I want to say thank you, your gift is much appreciated. Your love for us knows no bounds, in depth, height or care. Are these our modern day lilies of the field?

I have painted pink trees in VanDusen Gardens and cleaned my brushes on the snow. (Should I admit that?) Years have passed but I can still feel the shivering cold, the sunny warmth, the delight of choosing alternate lime and ochre colours for the trees. I see the blobs of various pinks as they come from my brush and the way snow accepts paint. I see the squareness of my canvases. The bird-filled silence comes back to me. I taste the water, the cheese sandwich, the apple I consume with painted hands. I remember the long contented walk back to my car, seeing the paintings complete in the studio and the joy of their donation. This I realize is God’s gift to me: painting. When I am in the flow, my life becomes a prayer and I feel most myself.

My thoughts are filled this week with the spectacle of there being a pink blanketed picnic in the park and fuchsia lit trees at night. I wish I could go. My schedule is tight. I will make do with viewing photos on the Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival website. I will walk my own streets, take iPhone photos, and worship.

 

Experiences of Art: Interview with Wendy A.

EveCafe

“Cafe Eve, Simons, Park Royal”

www.modernmixvancouver.com

Bio: Wendy A.

  • retired Home Economics teacher
  • born in B.C.
  • powerful Scottish background
  • grew up in a household of visual art and music

Goya’s painting of a boy in an orange suit with a ruffle was something Wendy looked at in an art book at home maybe a hundred times starting at age five. It took her attention. Orange was not her favourite colour. She usually liked green.

The boy was Spanish royalty. She had the fabulous pleasure of actually seeing that painting a couple of years ago in the National Art Gallery in London, England. She said, I would have been surprised if it was not in the show of Goya portraits. In her visit to London she hoped it would be in the exhibition. She knew she would be visiting London but did not know if the dates worked for her to see it. They did. She did.

In her joy of recognition she was drawn to the oil painting, attracted again by its beauty. She remembered the painting as being about 5’ by 3’ and as having an ornate frame. There was such clarity, such colour, she remembered, and the facial expression of contentment.

Wendy wrote in an e-mail after our interview at the Eve Café:

The Boy in Red is 50 inches by 40 inches and it is of the son of the Count and Countess of Altamira.

I think I know why I loved this picture so much right from the age of about 5 and it never dawned on me before today —- he looks a tiny bit like me at a very young age. 

I guess I am a bit of a narcissist!!

Bye for now,

Wendy.

 

Painting of Don Manuel Osorio Manrique de Zuniga, 1788

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manuel_Osorio_Manrique_de_Z%C3%BA%C3%B1iga

“Striking and often unforgiving, Goya’s portraits demonstrate his daringly unconventional approach and remarkable skill at capturing the psychology of his sitters.”  National Gallery London, bio of Francisco de Goya