Tag Archives: Gorilla House LIVE ART

Gorilla House Artist: Enriquito

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Known to us as Enriquito, the Gorilla House has been enjoying an exhibit of works by artist Jorge Enrique Gonzalez Hernandez!  If you haven’t seen this huge collection, add this to your list of things to do in Calgary.  Enriquito is such a positive person.  He is a joy to know.  It may be obvious through the capture of these few images just how energetic he is as an artist.  The show is exquisite.  For the next year, Enriquito is going to work exclusively in black and white, a bit of a departure.

EnriquitoIn his own words…

Jorge Enrique González Hernández

Born in Havana, Cuba on February 20, 1978. As a teenager, studying accounting and finance, Hernandez found his passion for painting. He had always liked art and its influences, but it was not until he moved to Spain in 2009, where his artistic niche began to develop. With little technical education, Hernandez has spent the last three years showing his art over many places around the world, including Vancouver, Canada, Bangkok, Thailand, and many parts of Spain. For Hernandez, his whimsical and aestheticly nice combination of colors and abstract shapes are the result of free and autonomous feelings subconscious. As his love for art grows, Hernandez hopes to continue his artistic activities in Canada, and one day obtain the means to carry more powerful inspiration, his son, to live with him in Canada.

A Surprise Purchase at Auction!

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The art that practically creates itself in two hours at the Gorilla House is always very surprising.  Last evening I found myself purchasing a self portrait ‘for a song’ and snapped a quick photograph of the artist and his piece before he left the front.  From a distance I so admired the way the piece had been created in relief…two separate planes.  I didn’t care about the seeming fragility of the piece, what the media was, just simply held a curiosity about its construction.

It turns out the piece was created by musician, Clay O’Flanagan, member of the band, Barley Hepcats.  How cool is that?

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Gorilla House LIVE ART: August 21, 2013

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I’ve been stripping and sanding layers and layers of paint off of some second-hand finds, recently.  These were projects that I began some time ago and now, in order to make space to paint in my studio, I need to deal with this and these.  Given the beautiful sunshine and nice weather this week, I’ve been getting at this although some evenings it feels as though my hand and arm are still vibrating.

Yesterday afternoon I decided to have a bit of a snooze on the red couch to renew my spirit before heading to ‘the House’ to paint. I’ve been low about the loss of my Mom…the experience of grief comes and goes…deeply…more deeply…and sometimes just under the surface.  The last few days it’s been ‘more deeply’.  It didn’t surprise me that once asleep, I received the image of a bowl…I didn’t remember much else…just a bowl…darkness…and I knew that while I painted in the evening, I would have to paint a grey scale.  I also knew that something about this container had to do with my mother.

Max had to get out for his walk before I prepped and headed out.  Once at the mailbox, I discovered a package from my father…a stack of glossy photographs from his tour of the Ameilasburgh Historical Museum with his apartment-mates.  In July, Dad and I had attended the A-Frame event for the refurbishing of the Al Purdy residence and so Dad knew how much all of this poetry and ‘stuff’ mattered to me.  The glossies were appreciated and I knew that one of these would have to be included in the evening’s painting.

My painting these last few weeks has been directly connected to my mother; her life, her times and the lessons she gave me.  It’s also had a lot to do with the absence of her and the feeling that everything around me seems different because she isn’t here.  I feel as though poets and artists and musicians fill up a huge space in this life…emotionally, physically and spiritually.  Conceptually, I’m thinking about the space for their unwritten works…the paintings not painted and the music, not ever composed. Something to do with loss.

Listening to Myself

Al Purdy
From:   Beyond Remembering – The collected poems of Al Purdy. 2000.

see myself staggering through deep snow
lugging blocks of wood yesterday
an old man
almost falling from bodily weakness
— look down on myself from above
then front and both sides
white hair — wrinkled face and hands
it’s really not very surprising
that love spoken by my voice
should be when I am listening
ridiculous
yet there it is
a foolish old man with brain on fire
stumbling through the snow

— the loss of love
that comes to mean more
than the love itself
and how explain that?
— a still pool in the forest
that has ceased to reflect anything
except the past
— remains a sort of half-love
that is akin to kindness
and I am angry remembering
remembering the song of flesh
to flesh and bone to bone
the loss is better

A wee bit of collage in the bottom right has to do with a horse (or at closer inspection, a moose), surrounded by wolves…as it must be in nature…the way things work.  At some point…a space in the snow where the amazing animal once stands…the photograph captures the moment that waits on an edge.

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Of the three concepts shared with the artists at seven o’clock…the one that most connects with this painting is…dealing with the fear.

P1120331 P1120332 P1120333The figurative piece posted above is one I began at home, on my father’s balcony…it hasn’t been finished yet.  The non-objective piece…last night’s painting, generously purchased at auction by Brent for his friend, Trevor.  In speaking with Trevor after the battle, he shared his attraction to the painting…the simplicity, the interest in poetry (he has been connected with writing…poetry…lyrics) and the sense of the huge disc perhaps representing vinyl…It was fun to speak with him.  I share images of both pieces because I find the palette for both paintings to be similar in tone and feeling.

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Brent on the right and Trevor on the left. Painting: The Place For Unwritten Poetry

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Gorilla House LIVE ART Battles: August 14, 2013

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There’s been quite the razz-a-ma-taz going on around this house since I returned home from Ontario, what with getting things sorted and cleaned up.  I make similar references quite often here.  Yesterday was a bit of a gong show as I continued the process and put my studio back to rights.  I’m pleased about that and feel hungry to get to work.

I started thinking about making it down to the Gorilla House after Max got out for his walk round the circle.  “NO, you can’t play WHIZZO, Max!”   Max recently ripped a dew claw on his front leg, so after repairs under sedation mid week, he’s had a very quiet five days. All that aside…

I prepped two boards instead of one because I have committed a panel of art to the People’s Poetry Festival and hadn’t had a chance to get the piece completed last week. (See dew claw and house-organizing anecdote above.)  I then had a soak in the tub and got the day’s dust and bleach washed off.  Renewed, I was waiting for my panels to dry and got caught up watching this.  I was mesmerized and so ended up tearing out of the house in a bit of a flap, arriving a half hour after the wheel was spun.

I tore right into both panels, switching off right up until the 45-minutes-left-point.  Then I decided to commit to the auction piece.  The panel for the festival would have to wait.  Everything I see or do at this time is impacted by the memory or the thought of my mother.  Tonight’s piece is no different.  It finds its beginnings in a scene from the Little Prince by Antoine de Saint- Exupery, Chapter 21.

“Please–tame me!” he said.

“I want to, very much,” the little prince replied. “But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand.”

“One only understands the things that one tames,” said the fox. “Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me . . .”

“What must I do, to tame you?” asked the little prince.

“You must be very patient,” replied the fox. “First you will sit down at a little distance from me–like that–in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day . . .”

The next day the little prince came back.

“It would have been better to come back at the same hour,” said the fox. “If, for example, you come at four o’clock in the afternoon, then at three o’clock I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances. At four o’clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you . . . One must observe the proper rites . . .”

“What is a rite?” asked the little prince.

“Those also are actions too often neglected,” said the fox. “They are what make one day different from other days, one hour from other hours. There is a rite, for example, among my hunters. Every Thursday they dance with the village girls. So Thursday is a wonderful day for me! I can take a walk as far as the vineyards. But if the hunters danced at just any time, every day would be like every other day, and I should never have any vacation at all.”

So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near–

“Ah,” said the fox, “I shall cry.”

“It is your own fault,” said the little prince. “I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . .”

“Yes, that is so,” said the fox.

“But now you are going to cry!” said the little prince.

“Yes, that is so,” said the fox.

“Then it has done you no good at all!”

“It has done me good,” said the fox, “because of the color of the wheat fields.” And then he added:

“Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret.”

The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.

“You are not at all like my rose,” he said. “As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world.”

And the roses were very much embarassed.

“You are beautiful, but you are empty,” he went on. “One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you–the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.

And he went back to meet the fox.

“Goodbye,” he said.

“Goodbye,” said the fox. “And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

“What is essential is invisible to the eye,” the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

“It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.”

“It is the time I have wasted for my rose–” said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.

“Men have forgotten this truth,” said the fox. “But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose . . .I am responsible for my rose,” the little prince repeated so that he would not forget.

My mother was responsible for me…

I was responsible for my mother…

I miss her.

Thanks to Chris who purchased this piece at auction.  Watch for the progress of the visual poetry over the next 24 hours!

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Gorilla House LIVE ART: Return to the Battles

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My living space is still in chaos, so I’ve been piecing things together since my return from Ontario.  Bit-by-bit, the little cubbies are being gleaned for what’s to save, what’s to give and what’s to pitch.  Then, before anything is put away again, a good wiping and voila!  This process is painfully slow and I certainly can’t see the impact this process is having on the large spaces…yet!

Interspersed with such activities, I’m taking hikes with Max and pouring over my summer notes related to my family history.  Next blog post will have something to do with my trip to Hamilton where my family tree has some serious roots!

I debated whether I had the energy to paint last night, but really miss my Gorilla House community, so a little late, I threw my board and materials into the van and headed down.

One amazing artist who became my friend through Gorilla House took on a 365 day self portrait project and I was inspired to paint her Shoulder: Day 218.  Belinda Fireman is an inspiring woman and I miss sharing two hours a week with her.  She keeps a blog, Drawn From the Fire and her work has been featured in a book, Journal It by Jenny Doh. So, I tossed any of the themes that were selected before my arrival at ‘the house’ and sat and painted.  Belinda paints with brilliant colour, life and line and so I tried to incorporate those elements into my quick sketch.  I did not over-think my piece, simply slathered on the colour. Thanks to Shannon for the purchase of this piece at auction.

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Gorilla House LIVE ART: May 29, 2013

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Oh man.  I took up the early-in-the-day challenge presented by visionary, Rich Theroux and painted based on Wendy O. Williams. I departed from the three concepts that arrived on the creative wheel before the battle.   First off, I don’t like Punk/ Metal. Not liking something goes beyond not appreciating it.  I find that Metal and Punk grate on my nerves.  I find that these genres are not ‘musical’, at least not in my mind.  However, I decided that since the Gorilla House always shakes me up artistically for one reason or another, I would take up the challenge.

I watched some of the Plasmatics music on old Youtube videos in the afternoon.  I wondered why Wendy had to wear such provocative clothing.  I wonder the same thing when I see Lady Gaga.  I wonder about the provocateurs, more so, from the female side of things than the male side.  (look, I’m just being honest).  I don’t get why females need to play on their sexuality while male performers seem to play on their strength and their gritty sweat.  I just don’t get how that can equate with being ‘heavy’, as Wendy professes in this interview.

I once bought tickets for Metallica.  My son, daughter and I bought the t-shirts…the hat.  And quite honestly, I was impressed!  I thought that the drumming, in particular, was fantastic.  My first encounter with Metal.

When I thought and read about Wendy O. Williams I could not help but encounter a river of sadness running under the surface of her bravado.

So, the painting.

Recently I’ve had two amazing encounters with bald eagles at the river bottom.  On one of these, I was visiting a place where I used to walk my old boy, Laurie-dog.  I had Max out and had not yet set him off leash, but was heading to the ridge.  Out of nowhere, the swooshing of massive wings…a diving and pitching of a form in front of a perfectly blue sky, seagulls cawing and screeching and speeding toward the target. Then everything came into perspective a mere ten meters above my head.  The eagle was carrying a huge writhing fish in its talons. Its head and tail shimmered a brilliant white.  I could see the wounds on the fish’s body…that’s how close I was.  Up it rose, sending the seagulls in a swoosh of white energy, in multiple directions.  I stood perfectly still, in awe…of strength, beauty, struggle, survival.

The second encounter was quite a bit north on the river, near the irrigation canal and the Bow River Canoe Club.  Less dramatic, but also so overwhelmingly beautiful because of its proximity to me…this time I might have touched the bird had it dipped a tad closer.  The eagle carried a mass of nesting material in its talons…likely a full cubic foot of dried grasses/sticks and such.  I’d never seen anything quite like it.  I focused on its wings, the strength of them, the propulsion of the amazing animal north and away.

In the ending, the painting combined my thoughts on music, power, self expression, evolution, transformation.  I took the eagle of my experience and transformed it into this ‘metal’ beast, a bird that represented anything but the natural forms that I encounter on a personal front at the river.  This piece is a departure for me.  The Gorilla House art battle tends to bring experimentation with materials and subject matter to the forefront.  Thanks to Daniel for your purchase of this piece at auction.

I’m including here, a series of embroidery pieces hung in the recent GH exhibit that represent my concept of transformation/deconstruction as well.

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Artist Szebo One

Artist Szebo One

Artist Szebo Two

Artist Szebo Two

Artist Szebo Three

Artist Szebo Three

Gorilla House LIVE ART: May 8, 2013

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Western Black Rhino Declared Extinct! CNN November 2011
WWF states the following….

“European hunters are responsible for the early decline of black rhino populations. It was not uncommon for five or six rhinos to be killed in a day for food or simply for amusement. European settlers that arrived in Africa in the early 20th century to colonize and establish farms and plantations continued this senseless slaughter. Most people regarded rhinos as vermin and exterminated them at all costs.

“DOOMED.” That was the front page headline of the UK newspaper, the Daily Mirror, in 1961, accompanied by a full-page photo of two African rhinos. The article said that rhinos were “doomed to disappear from the face of the earth due to man’s folly, greed, neglect” and encouraged readers to support a new conservation organization: WWF. We’ve been fighting to protect African rhinos ever since. Recent success in black rhino conservation is heartening, but a lot of work remains to bring the population up to even a fraction of what it once was – and ensure that it stays there.”

Earth First News May 7, 2013

I wanted to paint a tribute piece on my birthday…this, to the Western Black Rhino.  As I contemplate covenant, I wonder what it is that we can do as a global community to care more diligently for our planet.  We are the keepers.

Two hours of focused work and this piece was gratefully purchased at auction by a young lady who is training to be a vet, Carrie.  Surprise!  Her birthday also falls on May 8!  This connection was meant to be!

Thanks to daughter, Erin and son, Douglas, for attending my birthday battle!

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Carrie and Me

Carrie and Me

 

 

Gorilla House LIVE ART: May 1, 2013

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Who would miss an opportunity to paint on May Day?  Not me!  With a burdened heart, struggling to grab hold of bits of joy that skitter themselves through every ordinary day, I headed out to the Gorilla House.  Determined to continue learning about paint and building on a 2 x 2 series, I was very much influenced by my recent visit to the Bee Kingdom glass blowing and studio open house.

Of the three inspirational concepts offered last evening, I latched on to the idea of close imitation of something and the word, ’emulous’.

The bee, known for its pollination abilities, represents so much to humanity, both as a symbol and as a concrete reality.  Recently, the bee has been in the news as North America responds to the current collapse of hives everywhere.  In my mind, this tragedy is a reflection of our insistence on being consumers above all else and our need for production above the health of our environment and the health of other species.

Conversations flare up whenever I react to these news stories, primarily because I offer no solutions.  I tend to know a little about a whole lot of different environmental crisis…this is because I am constantly being bombarded with the results of poor judgement where big industry is concerned.  Back to the bees.  On this 2 x 2 panel, I wanted to capture an imitation of the beauty I find in bees, what they do and the gift they have been to our species on this planet.  I also want to express my grateful heart.

Embedded in the piece are a few verses from the Acts of the Apostles.  Pentecost falls on May 19, 2013.  It would do us all well to contemplate our personal mission and responsibility.

Thank you to Rosie for her purchase of this piece at auction.

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Gorilla House LIVE ART: 13/3/13

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1. From Neil Ardley’s The Way Things Work, Nuclear Fusion

2. From the book, Moon: Science, History, And Mystery by Stewart Ross, Into orbit

3. From Alan Fletcher’s The Art of Looking Sideways,  “There’s a theory that when you aren’t looking at something, it doesn’t exist.”

It’s been a few weeks since I relied completely on the themes and for me, these ones really worked.  I had purchased a beautiful piece of plywood in a square format before driving down and I just knew that I really loved the panel, the grain and did not wish to lose that texture through the process of creating.  This, I was thinking on the drive.

I was also thinking about circles…light…and colour….but, just that simply.  Some of the Gorilla House crowd ask the question, “Do you think this up on the spot?”  I think that the truth is that artistic rumblings are always going on in an artist’s mind.  Am I wrong?  I know that some mornings I have to get up early just because my mind won’t let me sleep.  Dreams of paintings and different subjects are not uncommon.  So, truthfully, when an artist knows that they are heading to an extreme painting event and will be finished a piece in two hours, I think that some sparks will fire, even at a subconscious level.

I know that I will be painting ‘Ryan’ for a while.  That’s another thing.

Anyway, a slight shift in media and in the end, no text or collage.  Had I written on the piece, it would have included a quote from John O’Donohue’s Anam Cara.  In the end, the image sufficed.  I used chalk pastels and gloss medium…and drew the image in permanent ink.

“You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.

Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.

Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.”

Thank you to Morgan, who purchased this piece at auction.  Thank you to William and friends and to Tamara for having the courage.
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Three artists who created wonderful works on March 13, 2013. William is in the middle.

Three artists who created wonderful works on March 13, 2013. William is in the middle.

Gorilla House LIVE ART Battle: February 27, 2013

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I wasn’t up for rushing on Wednesday night…so I took my time, arriving about fifteen minutes before the spin.  My spiritual offering for the night would be from Isaiah 11: 6-9.

“The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them. 7 The cow will feed with the bear, their young will lie down together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox.8 The infant will play near the hole of the cobra, and the young child put his hand into the viper’s nest. 9 They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea.”

This had nothing to do with the serendipitous fact that we were moving out of February and into March, purely coincidence, as it would turn out and so now, as I write, I ponder this…

“If March comes in like a lion, it will go out like a lamb?”

The three concepts that flew off the wheel on Wednesday were…

1. From The Little Prince by Ste. Exupery…”I discovered an extraordinary little boy.”
2. Time Machine
3. From Henry Rollin’s Solipsist, “Gonna dye my hair.  Gonna pierce my face.  Gonna get me some tattoos.”

I didn’t even think about these…just went forward with the inscription of Lewis Carroll’s words and Isaiah 11…and pulled out my new intense watercolour pencils.  These didn’t produce the desired effect, although I managed to create a bit of texture and some nice line into the background.  Shortly after, I pulled out my acrylic paints.  I will use my pencils another time,  in my sketchbook where I have a better tooth and a white surface.

“If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn’t be. And what it wouldn’t be, it would. You see?”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass

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It was a pretty focused evening of painting…even peaceful.  Again, there were several new people.  I especially enjoyed chatting with Mark and Victoria, driving all the way from Silverado.

I treasured time visiting with Elijah…it’s been a long time since catching up.  Thanks for the hug, Rich and for the story of your son…and for the most beautiful painting.  Thank you, also, to Tony for purchasing my piece at auction.

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Peaceable Kingdom by Patti Smith

Yesterday I saw you standing there With your hand against the pane
Looking out the window At the rain

And I wanted to tell you That your tears were not in vain
But I guess we both knew We’d never be the same
Never be the same

Why must we hide all these feelings inside?
Lions and lambs shall abide

Maybe one day we’ll be strong enough To build it back again
Build the peaceable kingdom Back again
Build it back again

Why must we hide all these feelings inside? Lions and lambs shall abide

Maybe one day we’ll be strong enough To build it back again
Build the peaceable kingdom Back again
Maybe one day we’ll be strong enough To build it back again
Build the peaceable kingdom Build it back again

Build the peaceable kingdom Build it back again