Joseph Mallord William Turner

Would you like to go on a journey with me? Please think for a moment where I might take you.

We can cross oceans of time. The fabrics of space. I will open up the Universe with my hands for you. Inversely of understanding. A design from the outside. Pulling at the edges like a canvas stretched across beams. Atomic order. Nucleic. Archaeological charcoals and elementals masking the span for all its measurement.

‘Snow Storm – Steam-Boat off a Harbour’s Mouth’ by Joseph Mallord William Turner – Exhibited 1842 – Oil paint on canvas – 914 mm x 1219 mm

‘Snow Storm – Steam Boat off a Harbour’s Mouth’ by Joseph M W Turner is amongst my favourite of his works. The human mind fills the void. Forms its own imagination. You perceive what you are able to comprehend. Reality it is not. A construct of perception as an idea. The basis for an impressionistic viewpoint.

The above artwork by Turner is a cacophonic masterpiece. You look at this and heard.. nothing.

Until now.

I merely lifted my canvas from its cardboard box to show him without commenting or referencing the title of my artwork – ‘Creative Mind’. At that precise moment a professional creative told me and I quote his words pretty much verbatim here, ‘It makes my brain think all sorts of things’.. I knew it had achieved everything I wanted from the outset. Perfectly.

Turner has immense influence to this day. Everyone says this. Let me give you an example. If you would like to view Whitewall Galleries online (here in the UK) and look up Chris and Steve Rocks you will see this for sure.

As a side note in abstraction I also strongly recommend the work of Danielle O’Connor Akiyama. With these recommendations I speak from personal interest in their quality. This is not a reflection of other artists merely that their work was on show when I visited the gallery sometime ago. Impressive and beautiful.

Turner’s masterpiece above shows layers of intricacy, a sheen of glazed light, depth of feeling and stormy chaos. Truly iconic.

This brings us nicely to the value of his photographic realist paintings. Consider viewing Turner’s next painting, immediately below, to Chopin’s Nocturne in E flat major Opus 9 No. 2 as I myself did.

‘Moonlight, a Study at Millbank’ by Joseph M W Turner – Exhibited 1797 – Oil on panel – 31.5 x 40.5 cm –
on display at the Tate Gallery, London, UK

‘Moonlight, a Study at Millbank’ has such eerie reality that it pulls us in as if by one of the ships ropes about our midriff. Our faces feel the cold-still nightly breeze. We can hear light winds through the sails. Quietness and a gentle drifting along of taut wood bound together strong for the working.

Two curious sayings I share now that I have read of my Great great Uncle artist Mr FMR aforementioned in my previous blog. ’12 horses on the strength’ and that he was ‘the cat’s whiskers’ to his Mother and Father. I really would like to paint these two expressions after the preceding works already waiting in the theatrical wings of my mind.

The latter expressionistic idea would not only be construe from Mr FMR’s sayings herewith. You see at ‘middle’ school our class was given a project to complete. I was thirteen years of age and chose to write about wildlife. I enjoyed drawing the faces of big cat’s, exceedingly I practised. Yet my drawing ability by my own admission is mostly immature during my earlier years.

Do you know the violinist who really cannot play or the singer who is yet able to fully master singing? For a fact both always exist and some latterly of their age, renowned. I am one and the other.

It’s quite the strangest thing that some artistic things I could accomplish in painting and drawing with ease whilst other subjects I struggle/d at almost impossibly. Art is learning. Nobody on earth ever picked up paints, crayons or pencil and drew with expertise immediately. No one. Ever.

Again I shall digress, oh Mr L.S. Lowry I love you so very much my dear fellow. For two exemplary reasons that my heart chases after like horses toward their hurdles for riding.

Turner’s work appears effortless. Clearly though, as shown below, Turner’s learnedness at professional draughtsmanship produces finely exquisite angles and perspectives beyond stark portrayal. For sure there is art in architecture.

Lines meet curves, leans and masses of concrete order.

‘Tintern Abbey: The Crossing and Chancel’ (looking towards the East window) by J. M. W. Turner – 1794 – Graphite & Watercolour on paper – 35.9 cm × 25 cm

Turner is rightly regarded as a British exemplary of artistic influence. His classical self portrait is to appear on the Bank of England’s £20 note from 2020 following a public selection process. Perhaps I waited wisely for the right time to make deserved commentary about Turner. Without doubt a pleasure to write this blog article and in eager readiness for sometime now.

Loudly whispers ‘Constable! Constable!’, Edgar Degas and Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones, 1st Baronet – someone, somewhere, somehow please an encore!’

For some within art Time really has no limitation whatsoever. God, the Dove or the Dragon are unable to conquer unto destruction nor death.

‘The Living Artwork Eternal That Breatheth Not.’

It’s the journey of life.

Art by Definition

‘Art is works of creative skill, intellect and/or phenomenal occurrence relative to the perception and/or imagination of creatures biological or otherwise.’

By relativity I know there are still discoveries to be made from the papers of 1905 and 1921. Scientific and worthwhile.

Mankind evolves, yes, by the very definition of the word itself.

Keep on climbing trees so as to see it.

This too is art from The Mind.

Pietro Annigoni Is Renaissance Man

If you love art then you really should enjoy getting to know the work of Pietro Annigoni. Here is one of his wondrous self-portraits:

Self Portrait by Pietro Annigoni – 1946.
Oil on Canvas – 45 cm x 35.5 cm.

This article is discussing the “Realists’ Realist” – Pietro Annigoni. Pietro was born 7th June 1910 in Milan and died 28th October 1988 in Florence, Italy – his beloved home and country of birth.

A master artist who could teach anyone how to paint the original bona fide Renaissance method of art making.

And yet, following Pietro’s teaching you would require personal talent, skill, creativity and an incredible working perseverance to please this giant of 20th century Italian painting.

Without question if Pietro Annigoni had lived through the 15th and 16th centuries alongside Michelangelo and Da Vinci they would have welcomed him with open arms as their artistic equal.

Quite simply Annigoni is their relative modern-day artistic exemplar.

To add value to this past Master simile we only need mention artists such as Ben F. Long IV and Zsuszi Roboz to his media acclaim. The former artist worked as an apprentice for nearing eight years under Annigoni’s expert direction. The latter artist, another apprentice of Annigoni, died July 2012 at 82 years of age. Roboz’ work heavily influenced by her love of music, dancing and literary interests.

Ben Long’s (Ben F. Long IV) own family has artistic flair running through their veins. In perceiving the influence of Annigoni please take a look at Long’s ‘Mussaba’ oil on linen and also his ‘Self Portrait in Black’ of 2012. From these portraits you can appreciate just how intricately Ben F. Long IV had learned from his ‘old school’ master teacher.

Bona fide art begets bona fide art by influence.

Please trust me earnestly when I say that artists know exactly the things we are doing.. explaining multiple ideas, intrinsically inspiring, making personal commentaries through art reverent to our hearts.

We would all accept that Van Gogh possessed the most pleasingly mild of personalities. Contrasted starkly against such meekness his artistic ambition was much like Annigoni, Long and Roboz with its all consuming fire.

Within Annigoni’s eyes there is comprehensible determination and knowing. His preparation and manner shows the controlled movements of a perfectionist at work. Proudly professional with hints at personal delight for his learned craft.

Artisan carpenters’ that craft expensive woods, master architects that seemingly bend heavy stones to their will.. Annigoni mixed his painting pigments the Renaissance way. Egg tempera deliciously blended to create the finest ingredients befitting a master worker.

Our eyes become the palate.

Portrait of Benedetto Annigon (1958)i, son of Pietro Annigoni.

Portrait of Benedetto Annigoni (1958), son of Pietro Annigoni.

Above we see the young Benedetto Annigoni who passed away December 2011, aged 72 years. Astute and contemplative, expectant that his father was immensely serious about his work. In celebration of this Benedetto is credited in the film of his father entitled ‘Annigoni: Portrait of an Artist’ (1995).

Portrait of Cinciarda (1945) by Pietro Annigoni.
Oil tempera on panel – 180 cm x 100 cm.

The best commentary to be made about Pietro Annigoni’s ‘Cinciarda’ portrait shown immediately above is by the painter himself. By way of translation Pietro said:

"...that nearly every day he climbed the stairs to my studio, and after ringing the 
bell and stood there, waiting, in the same pose in which I portrait. We were 
immediately after the [war], and this character, so humanly tragic, hit me for the 
symbolic meanings that [he] could take on. He came out of the battered conflict and 
'Cinciarda', miserable, there on the edge of the stairs, seemed to express the 
uncertainty of our future. "

A master Artist will reach into your soul. A master Artist invites you to ask pertinent questions about the human condition and life itself. To move you with unrestrained artistic brevity.

To ask whether Pietro Annigoni accomplishes this is tantamount to asking whether an Italian Pope prays.

Annigoni understood much about the world around him with his keen intellect. His truly honest portraits of John F Kennedy and a work entitled ‘La Strega’ demonstrate sheer excellence of perception.

Similarly Annigoni’s Princess Margaret and Queen Elizabeth II portraits (commissioned 1957 and 1954-55 respectively) provided glamour to the British monarchy during a burgeoning Hollywood era of media fervour. Certainly in terms of the printing press and a growing televisual audience of international proportion.

I encourage you to look at all of these paintings by Pietro for their intellectually artistic qualities.

Pietro Annigoni Is Renaissance Man.. Personified.

[Images courtesy of the Museo Pietro Annigoni in Florence, Italy.]

‘Spirit Heal’ Chorus – First Verse

Find peace within ourselves. This is photographic composition #2 and verse 2 of my song 'Spirit Heal'.

A video posted by Matt (@duannishenmi) on Jan 12, 2016 at 2:42am PST

https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B_1g4lrULQoBSHhnWWFVRGNULXM

‘Yellowish-Amber Glare’

‘The Sleeping Gypsy’ 1897 by Henri Rousseau – oil on canvas – 51.0 inches × 79.0 inches

‘Yellowish-Amber Glare’ by Matt, The Unfathomable Artist

“Look into his eyes, the yellowish-amber stare, blackness from the glare cuts through like Samurai for glinting shine without a care. Elephant-eyed for fear now grown lest not be spared. Walks away waiting starving awakened hibernated bear. Trumpeted chilled sounds through bones with frights that scare. Patience ‘gainst the mighty grey-skinned bulk, ivory tusks laid bare as world with double heart in anger sulk at loss with all its greedy poaching took.

Those same yellowish-amber eyes at approaching thunders rumble, amok that skin as muddy muck, his roaring teeth that grip neck to slaughter just, eve’ that mighty Buffalo, Eland and Sambar deer unto death and humbled wayward stock.

The speed of cheetahs outrun him not when vehement kill in stalking ground a determined heart to stop. Attack his cubs and meat is cauldron pot in fire-belly kiln vigorous hot. Nightly lightening as two steely diamonds blink above-below the Earth in wide eyed scanning know. Remember halted hyena sought, smashed its back to the dust as a patterned blanket throw. Severed female in defended pity plight, thus charge five hyenas robust of muscled might that rips dog as bread to dip in spite. Leopards their vicious claws, track thy will, quiet slow, for wieldy rushing advancing low, tickling flanks before heavy crushing canines final blow.

Lifeless forms in mouth do lull and broken arrowed bow. Made dead afore the jaw its cranially crooked bone fused to jagged bone less skin doth show.

Vibrating arachnid waits as ever beating heart in patience slow.

Blue eyes white fur as crown that shimmers snow, in fear lack of those whitened swords prancing untroubled seeds to sew. Cricket takes step back for deaths escape from fangs poised without a sound, as cursed on land it chirpy crow. Bird songs with stars twinkle spectacular dancing gown in tweeting twirling all around, Atmospheric Jewel from Venus to Mars that minded-meld eager takes-in of dear beheld.

Those early years cast of tree-lined jungle depths. Days, Weeks, Months and Years the maturity of branches sighing moans, just as wind through Autumnal leaves delighted blows. Hooves kick. Cajole. Near drown and never-ending Earthly mock.

Who really knoweth raging angst hiding as decades pass in the Viper’s venom grasp?

Truly it be unrequited said, ‘Love is my name, A cradle in thy riverbed.'”

‘Fight Between a Tiger and a Buffalo’ 1908 by Henri Rousseau – oil on canvas – 66.9 inches × 74.6 inches

Tiger in a Tropical Storm (Surprised), 1891 by Henri Rousseau - oil on canvas - 51 1⁄8 inches × 63 3⁄4 inches.

‘Tiger in a Tropical Storm (Surprised)’, 1891 by Henri Rousseau – oil on canvas – 51 1⁄8 in × 63 3⁄4 in

Atlas Dares to Move Jupiter and Hercules Fights a Lion

‘Hercules Fight With The Nemean Lion’ by Peter Paul Rubens

Mahmoud Said, That’s Who.

Untitled 1938, Oil on Board by Mahmoud Said

Untitled 1938 by Mahmoud Said, oil on board – 11.22 inches x 19.60 inches

Born in Alexandria, Egypt (1897-1964) the son of Muhammad Said Pasha who himself was a Prime Minister of Egypt, Mahmoud Said devoted his life to art. Following on from his law school degree for his career as a judge, Mahmoud continued to perfect his art skills during the 1920’s. Into his 50’s Mahmoud’s pursuit of creative painting enveloped his very being.

Absolutely unequivocally I would love to own a Mahmoud Said painting.

The untitled painting 1938, above, is a masterpiece. All his works are masterpieces. The pathway to winning is the completing of the craft.

“Would you love your child less that they babbled from their beginning to talk? Or that they stumbled to walk?” With effort and toil you grow seed. Nurture. Guide. Protect. Watch them grow. Blossom fruits and ripen.

The white donkey painted above is repeated by Mahmoud in at least one other composition of his work. An interesting choice. Here it is side-profiled and central. As gloriously painted in its own rare beauty as the regal women and the girl foremost in modesty portrayed. A fine custom of the peoples.

Mahmoud uses canvas texture and brush work to make paintings come alive.

Every accomplished artist uses their skill in ways that Mahmoud magnificently displays. I admit that what pleases me about my own work is how light dances throughout the day on my completed canvases. I laugh to myself with glee whenever I see this effect occurring. Mostly with landscapes and impressionist scenes.

Textures within Mahmoud’s paintings must be seen to be believed. Here, we see with digital replication as best we can. Where technological resolution advances are highly desirable.

‘A Girl Sitting On The Floor’ (1950) by Mahmoud Said,
signed and dated ‘M.SAID 1950’ –
24 inches x 19¾ inches

With ‘A Girl Sitting On The Floor’ shown above I cannot help think of two-tone Van Gogh backgrounds and Rothko abstracts. Really, to my mind, this is as interesting as the ‘Mona Lisa’ by Da Vinci for expression.

Perhaps the woman has found childbirth difficult? Maybe she is tired or sad? I think she has been working very hard. Does this elude to her situation? Please kindly inspect the handling of the yellow wall for its quality. Goodness me, incredible.

'Sunset On The Nile At Luxor' (1945) - Oil on Canvas, signed and dated 'M. SAID 1945', Mahmoud Said - 25 1/8 inches x 31 3/8 inches

‘Sunset On The Nile At Luxor’ (1945) by Mahmoud Said – oil on canvas, signed and dated ‘M. SAID 1945’ – 25 1/8 inches x 31 3/8 inches

Mahmoud Said – time and again – he incorporates stylistic genius in his compositions. ‘Sunset On the Nile At Luxor’ is exceptional. Flowing water, heavily laden boats, a majestic figure and hints at the sun’s light.

Today is art happiness to me having new acquaintance with this exhilarating artwork. Albeit of digital construct.

Artistic commentaries have poured from my soul in this year of 2015. I’ve shared my poems new and old, creative stories of fiction contrived, lyrics and sayings renewed alive. Oil painting on canvas has been difficult for me this year. A troublesome year for paint art to arrive into my spirit.

The energy required for good art painting is all consuming and almost exclusive within me. Trying to articulate this the best way. Sometimes energy ascends to many places as needed. This takes concerted effort and thought. Art is everywhere.

It’s the reason I’ve purposed this year for writings rather than painting.

Mahmoud Said’s all encompassing desire to create great art should be inspiring to all artists. A treasure to behold generation after generation.

The world is often stormy and this year it has been exceeding so. As I conclude this blog article I think I know the next painting that I shall post. Hopefully without too much commentary.

Please continue your journey with me.

Mesopotamian Art

The Burney Relief of Ishtar. Ancient Babylonian c1800 BC

Have you seen those magnificent 20th Century movies animating legends of old?

I’m hopeful that this incredible work of art, The Burney Relief, might bring to mind actresses whose feet are depicted with talons for gripping prey.

The eyes of a tiger. Potions. Magical conjurors. Flying carpets. Wise ones. Glorious garb with colours pretty. Head coverings to protect from the scorching sun. Flights of winged creatures looking down upon men and their perfectly made daughters. Giants sitting at their tables to be served.

Mesopotamian art holds such a strong place in my heart. The weightiness of books I’ve read. The number of words consumed as bread for eating. Films numerous that never tire with age.

Mesopotamian art oh how much you are loved for all your works of brilliance. Like history described as a man holographically computerised with knowledge abundant moving from glass to glass explaining Earth’s history. To discuss ancient art without including Mesopotamia, where would we begin?

These cultural artifacts are our World Heritage.

Ur, Assyria and Persia storing up their ancient treasures. Do you enjoy secrets? Some are buried waiting patiently yet to find. We can peer into their sophisticated cultures through visible representations of their world, their ancient thinking, cuneiform writings, cylinders and scrolls.

Ancient Middle-Eastern and Egyptian architecture reaching out into the Americas thousands of years ago. Crossing seas and straits. Trade and industry bringing a wonderful harmony or discordance whenever diplomacy does lack.

Through the nature of art there is the living with fine trees and carved rock to make geometric its face. One hundred chisels. Each worker skilled in the craft of their art. All the grassy fabrics of the earth beautified. Stones precious and polished to shine. Cut to slow down light that we might take in its rays. Light bounces in all directions and is moved into focus for a highlighting.

Who has not heard about the legend of Gilgamesh? How many movies are there yet still to make?

Never will there be a tiring throughout all these days.

“A Deeper Crescendo” Poem

“A Deeper Crescendo”

“Wherever your hair shines as the sea, Excited dolphins are your pretty curls, Two moons become your breathing, The sweet tide gives way Near and Far, Sounds of ecstatic waves, Below for a deeper crescendo.”

“There’s Humans Here”

A poem written by me with inked pen circa 2006, entitled “There’s Humans Here”:

“Tiny hands clasp [cardboard] roll, move it left to right

Eyes wide surveying impending flight

Disproportionate teeth dissect into bits

Chew, reduce then build nest to kip

Till darkness falls an awoken soaring kite

In fear-feet quickly stomp threatening fright

Alarm, alarm there’s humans here

Cover find for they draw near

No it’s ok, they’ve gone, come on out

Lets rodent dance, mate and squeaky shout.”

*italics included to explain context.

At about twelve years of age I eagerly asked my Chemistry teacher if I could have her well-fed classroom gerbil. His name was Freddy. I took him home because he was now my beloved gerbil.

I loved that same gerbil as much as I’ve loved any creature on the surface of this earth.

The Unfathomable Artist

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