Saturday, May 24, 2008
Back from Detroit
As always, my visit with Patricia was one epiphanic adventure after another. For me, many of the things we did were "firsts," experiences totally new to me. Among other things, we attended a jazz concert (held in the Detroit Symphony Hall) with Regina Carter and the Black Bottom Boys, went "birding" at Point Pelee, a large park in Canada (where I met three of her closest friends), toured the Detroit Art Institute, and saw a movie which will live in my memory forever.
The jazz was interesting. For the first time ever, I felt I finally got a handle on what jazz was all about, and enjoyed following the intricate rhythms and variations it offered. As for Point Pelee, we happened to arrive in the midst of one of the largest bird migrations in the world. In fact, people had come from many continents for this famous event. The bird symphony (jazz?) was a delight to the ears, and the company (which included an artist/poet and other friends of Patricia who have dedicated their lives to making the world better) wasdelightful. And we ate a fabulous lunch on the way home in Windsor, Canada, one to compare with anything San Francisco can offer. To end this perfect day, a rainbow appeared in the sky as we came back to the city.
But, of all the events, probably it was our visit to the art museum which impressed me most. First, there were the Diego Rivera murals, totally filling the walls of a large, high ceilinged room, most depicting men at work in the Detroit factories of the thirties as they turned out the cars and aircraft of the time. Rivera worked on the murals for some two years, swiftly painting the images on a quick drying wall. In some ways, he seemed a modern Michelangelo, a man pouring his huge creative energies into mammoth productions.
Then there were the more modern works, including one whimsical "portrait of the artist" (Pallas) made from assorted spare parts and electronic devices which lit up in various places when you moved your hand near. It was an arresting creation.
But most fascinating of all was the Rothko. I had never experienced an original Rothko painting, but had always heard that you need to stand in the work's actual presence to get the full effect. I was eager to discover what this might mean, since frankly I have long been puzzled by these curious bands of color which Rothko labored over for so many years.
As I stood before the painting, I opened my palms before it, and soon felt a familiar soft but sweet stirring of my own energies--k. was being aroused. Then, I realized that my face and head were becoming extremely hot, as the k. rose to the top of my head. The intensity grew swiftly, as if I were feeling the very pulse of the artist himself as he drove his brush over the canvas. So I stepped back, in awe of what I had experienced.
And Patricia, herself an accomplished artist, said that she felt it too--that her heart was beating swiftly before such powerful energies. And she added that this was, for her, a new experience, a new way of relating to art.
Later, I asked my friend Jeannine, also an artist and a person going through k. awakening as well, if she had ever experienced anything like this with Rothko. She assured me that she had, not only with Rothko but also with other art works imbued with deep spiritual significance. And, when I thought more about it, I realized that I had also felt the inner energies stirred at other times, as a diffuse sweet feeling when I was visiting certain exhibits. The difference here was, I think, that Rothko's painting consisted solely of line and color, and its power lay strictly in the intensity of the creation, not in the depiction of a subject.
Then, to round things off, Patricia and I went to see a thoroughly delightful and in fact unforgettable movie, "Young at Heart." I strongly recommend that you see it, if you haven't already. It is one of the best ever, with humor, tenderness, and love, yet untainted by sentimentality or sugar coating. As some of you know, it is about elders "claiming their power" through singing--not hymns in church, but raucous rock and roll hits of the recent past, all performed before a wildly enthusiastic audience. It is a movie about real people experiencing actual life events, a rare offering in our time.
And there was one more surprise. On the day I left Patricia learned that a series of her photos had been selected for inclusion in a DVD offering by Lenswork, a major photography journal. How exciting can life get?
You can see this series (called "dualities") at http://www.pbase.com/windchimewalker/dualities
The jazz was interesting. For the first time ever, I felt I finally got a handle on what jazz was all about, and enjoyed following the intricate rhythms and variations it offered. As for Point Pelee, we happened to arrive in the midst of one of the largest bird migrations in the world. In fact, people had come from many continents for this famous event. The bird symphony (jazz?) was a delight to the ears, and the company (which included an artist/poet and other friends of Patricia who have dedicated their lives to making the world better) wasdelightful. And we ate a fabulous lunch on the way home in Windsor, Canada, one to compare with anything San Francisco can offer. To end this perfect day, a rainbow appeared in the sky as we came back to the city.
But, of all the events, probably it was our visit to the art museum which impressed me most. First, there were the Diego Rivera murals, totally filling the walls of a large, high ceilinged room, most depicting men at work in the Detroit factories of the thirties as they turned out the cars and aircraft of the time. Rivera worked on the murals for some two years, swiftly painting the images on a quick drying wall. In some ways, he seemed a modern Michelangelo, a man pouring his huge creative energies into mammoth productions.
Then there were the more modern works, including one whimsical "portrait of the artist" (Pallas) made from assorted spare parts and electronic devices which lit up in various places when you moved your hand near. It was an arresting creation.
But most fascinating of all was the Rothko. I had never experienced an original Rothko painting, but had always heard that you need to stand in the work's actual presence to get the full effect. I was eager to discover what this might mean, since frankly I have long been puzzled by these curious bands of color which Rothko labored over for so many years.
As I stood before the painting, I opened my palms before it, and soon felt a familiar soft but sweet stirring of my own energies--k. was being aroused. Then, I realized that my face and head were becoming extremely hot, as the k. rose to the top of my head. The intensity grew swiftly, as if I were feeling the very pulse of the artist himself as he drove his brush over the canvas. So I stepped back, in awe of what I had experienced.
And Patricia, herself an accomplished artist, said that she felt it too--that her heart was beating swiftly before such powerful energies. And she added that this was, for her, a new experience, a new way of relating to art.
Later, I asked my friend Jeannine, also an artist and a person going through k. awakening as well, if she had ever experienced anything like this with Rothko. She assured me that she had, not only with Rothko but also with other art works imbued with deep spiritual significance. And, when I thought more about it, I realized that I had also felt the inner energies stirred at other times, as a diffuse sweet feeling when I was visiting certain exhibits. The difference here was, I think, that Rothko's painting consisted solely of line and color, and its power lay strictly in the intensity of the creation, not in the depiction of a subject.
Then, to round things off, Patricia and I went to see a thoroughly delightful and in fact unforgettable movie, "Young at Heart." I strongly recommend that you see it, if you haven't already. It is one of the best ever, with humor, tenderness, and love, yet untainted by sentimentality or sugar coating. As some of you know, it is about elders "claiming their power" through singing--not hymns in church, but raucous rock and roll hits of the recent past, all performed before a wildly enthusiastic audience. It is a movie about real people experiencing actual life events, a rare offering in our time.
And there was one more surprise. On the day I left Patricia learned that a series of her photos had been selected for inclusion in a DVD offering by Lenswork, a major photography journal. How exciting can life get?
You can see this series (called "dualities") at http://www.pbase.com/windchimewalker/dualities
(The images above are all mine, except for the Rothko, which I found on Wikipedia. The first is Patricia as she takes a picture of me taking a picture of her. The second is of fishermen on Lake St. Claire, about a mile from Patricia's house. The third is a house next door to Patricia, and indicates the beautiful blossoms which filled her neighborhood. The last is a house not too far from her own. The front yard is filled with an amazing array of sculpture, arranged in no particular order, as if the pieces were on display for sale. This house and its odd decorations are a curiosity in the neighborhood. We wondered why the art pieces were not presented in a more artistic fashion, as, say, in a labyrinth or garden.)
