Clear Skies
Written September 15, 2001
I went for a long ride on my road bike today, and one particular thing caught my attention – the sky. Something seemed odd, and at first I couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but then it hit me: it was a beautiful, clear day (a gift of a day really) and I found myself riding through an Italian Renaissance painting. There was nothing Italianate in the landscape of course, no distant mountains, no cypresses, no Roman architecture, but the color of the sky, and the quality of the light was akin to that which I have only previously seen in older paintings – Italian, or perhaps pieces from the Hudson River School era.
With virtually all air travel suspended, there were no contrails, and the massive quantities of airline pollution that are daily pumped into the upper atmosphere over the States had finally cleared to unveil a sublime, azure masterpiece the likes of which I have never seen in person, and very likely will never behold again. It was indeed a peaceful – dare I say transcendent – experience. I find myself unable to conjure words that will carry enough weight of expression to communicate the experience. I suppose you just had to be there… Maybe you were.
Footnote addendum: An interesting article in U.S. News & World Report on May 27, 2002 titled, “Cool your jets”, cited a study presented at an American Meteorological Society conference. The study used satellite photos to “track military jet contrails as they spread within just a few hours into sheets of high cloud covering thousands of square miles”. It went on to say that another study showed how spreading contrails limit temperature extremes by dimming sunlight and trapping heat closer to the ground. During the ban on air travel more than 4000 weather stations reported a temperature range more than 1 degree Celsius wider than normal.
September 11
On September 11, 2001 and the few days after, I wrote what follows in a notebook; my thoughts simply poured onto the page in snippets with no logical chronology. In the week or so that followed the 11th, as I began to process these events, I organized these thoughts into what you now see before you. I did not have a blog at the time, and have been looking over things I have written in the past, so I have chosen to share this with you today.
September 11, 2001
This is not the world we wanted; it is not the world we planned. This is not the way we had hoped it would be; this is most certainly not the way it should be. We, collectively, have come so far; we have so far yet to travel. No, this is, without a doubt, not the way things should be.
Today two buildings collapsed.
I watched the jetliner strike the tower, an errant missile filled with precious, irreplaceable cargo. I watched it over and over. I watched the buildings fall, each in turn like weary guards crumbling with fatigue. Sleep. All day long I witnessed it over and over – a surreal event played out on a technological stage for the entire world to see. I know it happened, I saw it happen, but I do not believe it happened. It must be the stuff of modern cinematic wizardry. It is not.
Wives and husbands will not be coming home. Daughters and sons will not be coming home. Mothers and fathers will not be coming home.
Today humanity revealed its nastiest face.
The television brings me images of people celebrating in the streets of some distant land, rejoicing at the deaths of fellow human beings. It is not just adult men and women, there are children taking part in the macabre victory dance. The despicable torch of hatred is passed to the next generation.
A well-known religious leader in this country urges vengeance, revenge, and swift military retribution against those we suspect (suspect, mind you, we know nothing yet) are responsible. A religious leader… More hatred.
Today humanity revealed its most courageous face.
Men and women ran into the claws of death to snatch their fellow human beings from its cold and crushing grip. I wonder, what gave them the courage to offer of themselves so personally, so deeply? Is that something I could have done? I realize that have no idea; I am not there.
Today, I feel fear. I know it is reactionary, transitory – the empty space between heartbeats when one waits for the other shoe to drop – and it will pass soon, but for now, that is what I feel.
More than recurring terrorism, I fear the saber rattling and chest-pounding that will surely come of this. The president, the man who holds office at this moment, loves power more than anything else – more than diplomacy, more than sensibility, more than leadership, and more than the people of this country and of this world. War can give a leader power, and this man itches for power within the facade of what began an impotent presidency. Kids, each born and raised in this country, will die; kids, each born and raised somewhere in the Middle East, will die; and the cycle of hate and fear will grow like an infection until it stains the world.
We desperately need a leader who possesses the wisdom to choose a higher and nobler course despite the din of an outraged nation – a nation, which at the moment, is far too frightened and angry to think straight. Now is the time for a great leader to stand up and act by what is right, rather than by the will of a people driven to the edge. Today I fear for this country, and I fear for this world. I fear we will not have this leader.
Today we are not one country; we are one world.
This world is no longer wide; it has become so very small.
We are not they and we; we are only we.
Today, I fear we will forget this.
A Trip to the Art Institute of Chicago
On a recent trip to Chicago we spent several hours in the Art Institute viewing our favorite paintings, and seeing some wonderful, recent acquisitions. It had been a long time since our last visit there – too long, really, maybe two, perhaps three years – and it was an interesting experience. Much of the American art collection had been rearranged, and the place had that weird, alien-yet-familiar feel at first.
In The Sea by Arnold Bocklin (detail)
I say it was an interesting experience because, from my perspective, I knew I would be viewing these pieces through eyes which have been changed by personal study, and through experience as a painter over the past few years. My hope was to see new things, new techniques, and expanded artistic languages and expressions within the layers of paint that hang upon those walls. I was not disappointed.
It is amazing how much a painter can learn about another artist and his techniques by studying his work up close. As I learn more, I come to see more information twinkling in a masterpiece, and the more I see, the more I learn. I find myself wondering what I will see and understand after another decade or two of study and painting.
On this visit, I was paying particular attention to the various representations of water in the American landscapes, and in the more classical realistic works. There was something I sought, and I think that perhaps I found it, but only time at the easel will reveal what fruits will be borne of the experience. I am hoping for a rich harvest.
Remember to visit often the things you love, lest your soul starve, and your heart wither.
~David Jay Spyker
Synthetic Gecko
That’s what they are calling it – “Synthetic Gecko”. The minuscule fibers that line a gecko’s paw pads actually interact with surfaces on a molecular level. This is what allows a gecko to hang upside-down on a sheet of glass. According to the BBC, researchers have developed a polymer sheet that has a surface covered with millions of microscopic hairs, which allow it to act on the same molecular principles employed by the gecko. They claim that a one meter square of the substance could hold a car to a ceiling. That is something I would like to see, though I still wouldn’t stand beneath it.
Throughout our existence, mankind has been inspired by nature when it comes to invention. After all, nature did it first. We are all products of the natural world. We derive wondrous medicines and materials from the natural world. All manner of science is inspired by animals and plants, and their natural processes. Aside from its providing us the basic necessities of life, which is no small thing in its own right, we owe a considerable debt to the ecosystem in which we live for everything else it has given us.
It has been said by millions of people around the globe – I am sure billions of times – but I will say it here again too because it doesn’t seem to be getting through to some of the most influential people. It is long past the time that we begin to better respect our interconnected world environment, and to repair the damage we have done.
We are finally beginning to understand the ultimately complex workings of Gaia; there is so much ahead of us, and so much to do to ensure that we never discover it is too late for us – before we have taken the last of it, and the only kind of gecko we have left is synthetic.
Imago
[Homines Partus]
Spring came with awakening, came with innocence and joy
Spring came with fascination and desire to deploy
Summer came with restlessness and curiousity
Summer came with longing for the things we could not be
Take me to the forest, take me to the trees
Take me anywhere as long as you take me
Take me to the ocean, take me to the sea
Take me to the Breathe and BE
Autumn came with knowledge, came with ego came with pride
Autumn came with shamefulness for the things we could not hide
Winter came with anger and a bitter taste of fate
Winter came with fear for the things we could not escape
Take me to the forest, take me to the trees
Take me anywhere as long as you take me
Take me to the ocean, take me to the sea
Take me to the Breathe and BE
Teach me of the forest, teach me of the trees
Teach me anything as long as you teach me
Teach me of the ocean, teach me of the sea
Teach me of the Breathe and BE
See me! I am the one creation
Hear me! I am all the love that came from Animae
Know me! I am the incarnation
Fear me! I am all the power held by Animae
Me!
Give me of the forest, give me of the trees
Give me anything as long as it’s for me
Give me of the ocean, give me of the sea
Give me of the Breathe and BE
Give me all the forests, give me all the trees
Give me everything as long as it’s for free
Give me all the oceans, give me all the seas
Give me all the breathing BE
~ Pain of Salvation, from the album titled “BE”
KIA Artbreak Slide Presentation
I will be giving a brief presentation at the Kalamazoo Institute of Arts on Tuesday, July 18, 2006 for the KIA’s Artbreak series. It will begin 12:15, and should run approximately twenty minutes. The slides will feature a selection of paintings from 1995 through 2005 as I give my thoughts on each piece.
A Brief Thought on Artistic Community
Recent events in my own life have reminded me of the importance of community between artists. It is all too easy to become insular, isolated, when living as an artist. Our work requires hours of solitary action, observation, and thought, but without creative interaction – between artists, and also between artists and the world at large – there is indeed a certain void in our lives.
“Flow” Wins Award
"Flow", 2006, Acrylics on Canvas, 20" x 24", by David Jay Spyker
David Jay Spyker has been awarded The Martin Maddox Prize for Imaginative Realist Painting at the Kalamazoo Area Show for “Flow”, a painting in acrylics on canvas. The prize is named after the artist Martin Maddox – who was a friend of Mr. Spyker – and it has been awarded at the show each year since Maddox’s death in 1997. Martin Maddox was known for the emotive, evocative, and imaginative style of his figurative paintings in oils and pastels.
The Kalamazoo Area Show is an annual regional art competition held at the Kalamazoo Institute of Arts. This year’s installment runs from July 1 – August 26, 2006; the show drew 718 entries (a record number), of which only 158 were accepted for exhibition by juror Tim Lowly. It is a very strong show this year, and is well worth the visit.
The Painting “Someday” in Battle Creek Competition
"Someday", by David Jay Spyker, (2005, Acrylics on Board, 4 x 6 in.)
The small painting, “Someday”, is currently on display as part of the 27th Annual Michigan Artists’ Competition at the Art Center of Battle Creek in Battle Creek, Michigan. The show, which includes 55 works by 43 regional artists, was judged by Jane Connell, Director of Collections and Exhibitions/Senior Curator of the Muskegon Museum of Art in Michigan. It runs from June 2 through July 1, 2006.
The Acrylic Painters’ Forum
A forum for and about representational painters working in acrylics.
When I first began painting with acrylics, there were no local teachers instructing students about the finer points and advanced techniques of the medium. The medium is young when compared to oils, and has undergone significant changes and improvements in just the last decade. Even now, the number of advanced acrylic painting instructors is small, and the medium’s potential is still being explored and developed by both the artists and the acrylics manufacturers.
I learned to work with acrylics by experimentation, and by reading every book I could find on the subject. In the beginning, I tried many different brands of paint, until I finally discovered artists’ acrylics made by Golden Paints. More than a decade ago, Golden was there with detailed technical advice in the form of product data sheets, color indices, and such. There were times I spoke with the head of their laboratory over the phone; Mark Golden even answered the phone once, and I spoke with him for a while.
Teaching oneself to paint, while rewarding, can be an arduous journey. I would like the discussions in this forum to provide the same level of support and assistance to acrylic painters that Golden has always supplied to artists – to make the journey a little less arduous. I hope this forum will provide a place where representational painters working in acrylics can share techniques and ideas, and develop a sense of community. Together, we can lift each others’ art to greater levels of mastery.
I invite representational painters working in acrylics, and anyone interested in the style and medium, the art, and the artists to join the forum at http://www.acrylicsforum.davidjayspyker.com/.
The acrylics forum has since been closed: http://www.acrossthewaters.davidjayspyker.com/2007/11/23/the-acrylics-forum-is-closed/
The Wings of Butterflies
Originally written February 3, 2002 at 4:12 a.m.:
I am in the studio working and listening to “Queen’s Greatest Hits II”; music has always been tremendously important to me, and I grew up listening to Queen. I remember the day that Freddie Mercury left us (what has it been, something like ten? eleven years?), and the profound sense of loss that I felt upon hearing the news. A lasting knot visited my stomach on that day. Of course I never knew the man personally, but he, along with his fellow musicians, laid their hearts bare for all to experience through the intimate nature of their words and music; when an artist takes that kind of risk, we all are given the opportunity to come to know that person on a close level. If we take that opportunity, then they become part of us, we are enriched.
The day Freddie passed, we all knew that there would be no more Queen, that the clarion song of that voice would no longer grace our ears, and that the world had lost some truth and magic; but we also knew that he had left us with something of himself that would endure even well beyond our passing. I listen to the music, and he is alive in a corner of my soul. It is something I will always carry with me. It is hope.
My thoughts inevitably drift from Freddie Mercury to Martin Maddox. Martin, that clenched knot returned to my gut when I learned of your death. You left your soul raw upon your canvasses, bleeding your heart dry with every stroke of the brush. I am glad to have known you; your work is as much a part of me as is my own – thank you.
To Freddie, Martin, and all those deep and daring souls who have gone all too soon (is it ever not too soon): your souls are “painted like the wings of butterflies” – fly. We will carry on with the show.
