I discovered this tonight on public TV. Resnick is superb in his evaluation of what makes a painter tick.

‘The first five minutes are the best, after that you’re in trouble’.

‘Artists have ups and downs. If you’re good, you’re gonna go down. And some artists can’t take it. They begin to develop a technique to get out of that hole. Then they’re done. They never go any further.’

‘I don’t think it’s my painting anymore….after it’s finished.’

You can find Part 1 in youtube.

Update from Snowmageddon. After two days, most of the driveway is shoveled. At this point, I’m hoping one of the neighbors will come over with a snowplow….but at least there’s not much left. That’s if my back will hold up. They say another snow coming in on Tuesday, which is about when I’ll have gotten the truck out for the first time. 

front walkway

all the animals and birds are sleeping

two days worth of shoveling, one to go

I went to bed with snow coming down and woke up to the same weather. Stumbling out the front door, the snow was up to my knees. No NY Times out front, and I can’t get out the back door because the drifts have me snowed in. The wind picked up this morning and it now looks like a full blizzard out there. I haven’t seen this much snow since I left Nova Scotia decades ago.

A good day to paint the stillness and have another cappuccino before hitting the shovel.

I wanted to paint more snow scenes, but we haven’t had enough lately. So this week I resorted to glaciers and memories of travels in Glacier National Park and the Columbia Icefields in the Canadian Rockies, north of Jasper in Alberta. Both spectacular national parks. It’s sad to realize that in less than 20 years, Grinnell and others have receded, mostly due to climate warming. This is a sketch, followed by another painting from the week’s work.

Grinnell Glacier. Oil on paper, 11″x15″ 2010.

This is the way the glacier looked in 1910, photo courtesy Fred Kiser, Glacier National Park Archives.

and a comparison of 87 years, the bottom photo is from 1997;

I’m crazy about Fred Hersch’s jazz piano compositions and this is a sketch in homage to his piece ‘Heartsong’, from his album, ‘Songs without Words, Volume One’. It’s disconcerting that two of our best jazz pianists, Keith Jarrett and Hersch, have gone through harrowing physical tribulations. Both continue to play sublimely, despite it all.

Heartsong. Oil on paper, 10″x6.5″, 2010.

I began this painting with brushwork, but ended up slashing at it with a palette knife. Too bad I can’t post the highest resolution here because it’s pretty damned juicy. Photographs helped to document my  walks on mostly unpaved roads, winding through olive groves and farmland in the valley below the town of Montecastello di Vibio, Umbria.  There was a mysterious red house at the very end of the road, with lovely gardens and fields of green all round.

Pink Road. Oil on canvas panel 12″x12″ 2010.

Another new painting from my series based on Walt Whitman poems.

THE VOICE OF THE RAIN, Walt Whitman.

AND who art thou? said I to the soft-falling shower,
Which, strange to tell, gave me an answer, as here translated:
I am the Poem of Earth, said the voice of the rain,
Eternal I rise impalpable out of the land and the bottomless sea,
Upward to heaven, whence, vaguely formed, altogether changed, and yet the same,
I descend to lave the drouths, atomies, dust-layers of the globe,
And all that in them without me were seeds only, latent, unborn,
And forever, by day and night, I give back life to my own origin, and make pure
and beautify it:
(For song, issuing from its birth-place, after fulfillment, wandering,
Recked or unrecked, duly with love returns.)

Voice of Rain. Oil on canvas panel 8″x10″ 2010.

Kate McGarrigle died of cancer on monday, she was only 63. I discovered the McGarrigle sisters when I bought their debut album, ‘Kate and Anna McGarrigle’ in 1975. One of my favorite songs on that lp, ‘Talk to me of Mendocino’, presaged my long held dream to move to California, which I did – from 1997 to 2001. During all those years of listening to the song, I didn’t realize that South Bend, Indiana figured in the lyrics. My next move was to exactly that place in the midwest, just an hour or so outside Chicago.

Talk to Me of Mendocino, written by Kate McGarrigle
1975 Garden Court Music (ASCAP)

I bid farewell to the state of old New York
My home away from home
In the state of New York I came of age
When first I started roaming
And the trees grow high in New York State
And they shine like gold in the autumn
Never had the blues from whence I came
But in New York State I got ‘em

Talk to me of Mendocino
Closing my eyes I hear the sea
Must I wait
Must I follow
Won’t you say come with me

And it’s on to South Bend, Indiana
Flat out on the western plain
Rise up over the Rockies 
And down on into California
Out to where but the rocks again
And let the sun set on the ocean
I will watch it from the shore
Let the sun rise over the redwoods
I’ll rise with it till I rise no more

Talk to me of Mendocino
Closing my eyes I hear the sea
Must I wait
Must I follow
Won’t you say come with me

A sensitive songwriter and lyricist, she could be both tender and funny. Her ‘Kiss and Say Goodbye’  helped to manage my equilibrium during many a youthful break-up.

Kiss and Say Goodbye

My newest pair of paintings, inspired again by music; Jean-Luc Ponty’s ‘Mirage’ from his 1977 LP, Enigmatic Ocean. In the deep of winter, the piece suggested mysterious blues and dioxazine purples, with that high note shock of cadmium red deep.

Mirage I, oil on canvas panel 9″x12″ 2010.

Mirage II, oil on canvas panel 9″x12″ 2010.

A break in the cold weather and a few new paintings. The book ‘Neruda’s Garden, an Anthology of Odes’, poetry about nature and his odes to ordinary items informed the title for the painting below.

Incandescent Dusk. Oil on canvas panel 9″x12″, 2010. 

This next one is from my series of small works based on Walt Whitman poems, the title is a phrase from his poem“After the Dazzle of Day”. Painted after the big snow before the holidays. 

 
After the Dazzle of Day. 

After the dazzle of day is gone
Only the dark night shows to my eyes the stars;
After the clangor of organ majestic or chorus or
perfect band
Silent athwart my soul moves the symphony
true.

Dazzle of Day. Oil on canvas panel 11″x14″ 2010.

This is from memory and my photo of the park in Montecastello, where I spent a month in an artist’s residency in 2007.

Montecastello Park. Oil on canvas panel 12″x9″, 2010.

I’ve started a new series of small works, the first of 2010 is based on a Walt Whitman poem, the title a phrase from his “One Hour to Madness and Joy” from his ‘Leaves of Grass’.  

‘O to drink the mystic deliria deeper than any other man!’…..  

Mystic Deliria, oil on canvas panel.  9″ x 12″, 2010. (sold)

and this is from an older small work begun last June and never finished.

Peonies and Roses. Oil on canvas panel 8″x10″, 2010. (sold)

My pal Ali was here for Christmas and we had a fine country walk on monday, around the 574 acre Stroud Preserve, just south of West Chester. There are many nature preserves, parks and farms in Chester County, but this is one of the largest tracts. Find the county’s guide to open space here.

This is permanently protected land,  managed by the Natural Lands Trust, where Andy Pitz works, a colleague from my GHGR Task Force group.  A few miles north of Kennett Square’s mushroom capital of the country, historic houses and barns dot the landscape, making a very cold day picturesque. Easing the chill, we had hot chocolate and cappuccino afterwards at Talula’s Table, the fine local gourmet shop/farm restaurant. A stop at the historic Baldwin’s Book Barn just outside West Chester, warming our hands in front of their raging pot bellied stove and exploring all floors of their 300,000 book collection, ended the day’s sojourn.

photos of Baldwin’s Book Barn courtesy Jim:

I loved the historic barn, built by local Quakers in 1822. In 1934, Tom Baldwin’s parents established the bookstore nearby, moving to the present location in 1946. One of the adjoining structures is still the family residence. Rare books, maps and prints can be found in among the bargains. Five floors of winding stairways and nooks and crannies make exploring the barn as fun and interesting for adults as it is for children. When we were there, an original Disney book illustrating early character animation was for sale.

Ali sent this NY Times recipe ahead, for a swiss chard Strata that we found delectable, fast and easy to make. If you don’t have dried mushrooms, a package of baby Portabellas works just fine. So does Swiss cheese substituted for the Gruyère.

Strata With Mushrooms and Chard
MARTHA ROSE SHULMAN

Published: December 22, 2009

I make — savory bread puddings — when I find myself with a stale baguette on hand, even if it’s so hard that the only way to slice it is to saw it. A strata is as comforting as macaroni and cheese, and it makes a great one-dish meal.

1/2 pound stale bread, sliced about 3/4 to 1 inch thick

3/4 ounce dried mushrooms

8 ounces Swiss chard, stemmed and cleaned

2 garlic cloves, 1 cut in half, green shoots removed, the other minced

1 cup low-fat milk

2 ounces Gruyère cheese, grated (1/2 cup, tightly packed)

1 ounce Parmesan cheese, grated (1/4 cup, tightly packed)

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 teaspoon chopped fresh rosemary

Salt and freshly ground pepper

4 large eggs

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 1/2 cups low-fat milk

Note: If your bread is very hard, carefully saw it into slices with a sturdy serrated knife. Dipping it into the milk for half a minute may help, but this also may cause the bread to crumble as you slice it.

1. If the bread is soft, toast it lightly and rub each slice front and back with the cut clove of garlic. Cut in 1-inch dice. If the bread is stale, just rub the slices with garlic and cut them into 1-inch dice. Place in a very large bowl, and toss with 2/3 cup of the milk. Set aside.

2. Place the dried mushrooms in a bowl or a Pyrex measuring cup, and cover with 1 1/2 cups boiling water. Allow to sit for 30 minutes. Set a strainer over a bowl, line with cheesecloth, a coffee filter or paper towels, and drain the mushrooms. Squeeze the mushrooms over the strainer to extract all of the broth. Rinse, away from the strainer, in several changes of water to wash off sand. Squeeze out excess water. Chop coarsely. Measure out 1 cup of the mushroom broth, and combine with the remaining milk.

3. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Oil or butter a 2-quart baking dish or gratin. Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat, and add the chard. Stir until the leaves begin to wilt in the liquid left on them after washing. Cover the pan, and let the chard steam until it has completely collapsed, about two minutes. Uncover and stir. When all of the chard has wilted, remove from the pan and rinse briefly with cold water. Press or squeeze out excess liquid. Chop coarsely and set aside.

4. Add 1 tablespoon of the olive oil to the pan, turn the heat down to medium and add the minced garlic. Cook, stirring, until fragrant, about 30 seconds, and stir in the reconstituted mushrooms, the rosemary and the chard. Stir together for a couple of minutes, and season to taste with salt and pepper. Remove from the heat, and transfer to the bowl with the bread cubes. Add the cheeses, and toss together. Arrange in the baking dish.

5. Beat together the eggs in a medium bowl. Add salt to taste (I use 1/2 to 3/4 teaspoon), the remaining milk and the mushroom broth. Add a few twists of the peppermill and pour over the bread. Press the bread down into the custard mixture. Sprinkle a little Parmesan over the top, and drizzle on the remaining olive oil. Place in the oven, and bake 40 to 50 minutes, until puffed and browned. Remove from the oven, and serve hot or warm.

Yield: Serves four to six.

Advance preparation: This can be assembled through step 4 hours or even a couple of days before you beat together the eggs and milk and complete the casserole.

Martha Rose Shulman can be reached at martha-rose-shulman.com.