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.About Art
On September 9, 1977, (at 5:05 pm), I quit my last job. With the words of the great watercolorist George Post ringing in my ears (If not now, when?”) I took the plunge and joined the ranks of professional artists. I was scared to death and had no idea if making a living was even possible. But I was burning for art. All I wanted was the opportunity to take my best shot. The past 39 years have brought both fat and lean times, along with countless changes in the work. The path hasn’t always been clear, especially in the beginning. But through perseverance, my ideas have clarified into a coherent philosophy that is the foundation of my art. Actual working methods are an attempt to animate this philosophy and its three simple principles. First is that art is a language, albeit a non-verbal one. We study the grammar of this language so that we may communicate more effectively. But like any language, the ultimate purpose lies in the content of the expression, not in the mastery of its usage. Second is the concept that art is autobiographical. A body of work should reflect the life of the artist. When you draw upon personal experience, it naturally follows that you will have something meaningful to say in the language of art. And third is the concept that working from life is the great teacher. Learning to see as an artist is the foundation of an individual painting technique. Nature give up her secrets reluctantly, and only to those most determined. Consider this quote from the great artist-teacher Charles Hawthorne: “The only way the artist can appeal to humanity is in the guise of the high priest. He must show people more-more than they already see-and he must show them with so much human sympathy and understanding that they will recognize it as if they themselves had seen the beauty and the glory.” Painting from life is the moment of truth. If you can paint light, you can paint everything under the sun. Follow that to where it takes you. You might be surprised. Frank LaLumia |
Frank LaLumia on location in Telluride Colorado
It is a fine line that separates an artist from a craftsman. Your master class in painting begins when you can hold your focus on something greater than the nuts and bolts of what you are seeing. To quote the great American artist Richard Schmid from his book Alla Prima:
“Your poetic destination must hover over your purely technical efforts like a nagging guardian angel, prodding you to not forget the song you are singing.” Your ‘poetic destination’ is the ‘why’ of each painting. There is a reason that you set up in one place and not in another. Something caught you eye, and your ability to hold on to that something throughout the complexity of the painting process is like your diploma for a job well done. |
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Lascaux France
"SEVENTEEN THOUSAND YEARS AGO TONIGHT" 22x30 Watercolor
Lascaux, France
December 1981
A cold rain settled in over the village of Montignac. The day I had been waiting for, hoping for so long-had finally arrived. With my pass from the French government finally in hand, I set out to visit the caves of Lascaux. Obtaining a pass from the French Cultural Ministry to visit the actual site of Lascaux had been problematic. My quest started seven or eight months earlier. Included in the initial application were slides from a series of paintings I had done depicting prehistoric American Indian Petroglyphs of the Southwest. I hoped to document my interest in prehistoric art. It worked-to an extent. The Ministry responded in a positive manner, asking for more information. Over the months before I left, we exchanged three letters, all in a similar manner. Each time the Ministry asked for additional information. When I finally left for Europe-a full three months before my proposed date to visit the caves- the matter had still not been nailed down. Turns out that their last letter, requesting still more information, arrived after I left home. I was on the road.
To make a long story short, through the intercession of a French Angel-a wonderful young woman who worked in the Ministry, the passes were finally obtained on site in France. We were finally off. Winding through the low hills of the Dordogne, I could just imagine this landscape seventeen thousand years ago. The cold rain seemed to add to that picture. As we neared the site, my driver pointed out the site of the Lascaux facsimile, which was under construction. When we arrived at the Lascaux site, the only indication of something special was a serious eight-foot fence, topped with razor wire. As we approached the perimeter we were met by two large, snarling German Shepherd guard dogs. The guide let us in, re-locked the gate, and flipped the keys to one of the dogs who caught them in his teeth. The dog held the keys for the entire time we were in the cave-close to an hour. With a wink from our guide, we were good to go.
We descended stairs and entered an underground foyer-two rooms that were intended as a barrier to potentially harmful microbes. We stepped into a solution and then wiped our shoes on a mat; and then repeating that in a second room. Before we entered the cave itself, our guide gave us the game plan: We would walk into the darkness, and then wait a minute or two for our eyes to adjust. Only then would he turn on the low-level lights with a remote control. We entered the cave. The environment immediately made its influence felt: the cool moist air, the rough rock underfoot. Even in darkness, there was no doubt about the environment. The vibes of the place were over-whelming. We walked a short distance and then stopped and waited with great anticipation. We waited. Then suddenly the cave was lit. As luck would have it, I was facing the most iconic image of Lascaux-the Painted Gallery in the Great Hall of the Bulls. The effect was devastating. I could barely catch my breath. I was swept away-like being in the middle of a stampede of these great animals.. It’s hard to describe in words. Those first moments in Lascaux was the most powerful experience I have ever had in art. To this day it follows me. We were told, going in, that our pass allowed 30 minutes inside the cave. Our guide, one of the young men who had discoveded the cave when he was a boy, enjoyed our unabashed enthusiasm, and we ended up staying for almost an hour. He took us through the cave network where each turn produced a new mind-blowing image. The scale and extent of the work is truly amazing. There is a debate over the ‘meaning’ of the images. The caves contain nearly 2,000 figures, grouped into three main categories: animals, human figures and abstract symbols. It has been proposed that the artwork includes prehistoric star charts. Another theory is that the art is spiritual in nature, representing visions experienced during vision-quest type experiences. Other anthropologists and art-historians theorize that the paintings could function as a Talisman- some mystical ritual with the purpose of bringing success to future hunting efforts. Whatever their ground of being, these Paleolithic images are infused with a power and beauty that makes them unique. They speak to us from another time, from another world, like a gift.
We emerged from the cave. It was cold as hell, wet and getting dark. I barely noticed. I was speechless. It was like a positive version of being in shock. We made our way to a nearby train station and within a few hours were bound for Paris. It was two or three hours before I was able to speak a coherent sentence. I have yet to fully recover. One of the intuitive experiences I took away was that the people who created these images lived lives of great rapture. They were fully present in every moment. Their lives may have been short, but their vitality reached through seventeen thousand years like it was yesterday. Lascaux is the greatest masterpiece that I have ever seen. It redefines the meaning of being human. It is a monument to us, just as it is to its Creators.
c 2012 Frank LaLumia
Lascaux, France
December 1981
A cold rain settled in over the village of Montignac. The day I had been waiting for, hoping for so long-had finally arrived. With my pass from the French government finally in hand, I set out to visit the caves of Lascaux. Obtaining a pass from the French Cultural Ministry to visit the actual site of Lascaux had been problematic. My quest started seven or eight months earlier. Included in the initial application were slides from a series of paintings I had done depicting prehistoric American Indian Petroglyphs of the Southwest. I hoped to document my interest in prehistoric art. It worked-to an extent. The Ministry responded in a positive manner, asking for more information. Over the months before I left, we exchanged three letters, all in a similar manner. Each time the Ministry asked for additional information. When I finally left for Europe-a full three months before my proposed date to visit the caves- the matter had still not been nailed down. Turns out that their last letter, requesting still more information, arrived after I left home. I was on the road.
To make a long story short, through the intercession of a French Angel-a wonderful young woman who worked in the Ministry, the passes were finally obtained on site in France. We were finally off. Winding through the low hills of the Dordogne, I could just imagine this landscape seventeen thousand years ago. The cold rain seemed to add to that picture. As we neared the site, my driver pointed out the site of the Lascaux facsimile, which was under construction. When we arrived at the Lascaux site, the only indication of something special was a serious eight-foot fence, topped with razor wire. As we approached the perimeter we were met by two large, snarling German Shepherd guard dogs. The guide let us in, re-locked the gate, and flipped the keys to one of the dogs who caught them in his teeth. The dog held the keys for the entire time we were in the cave-close to an hour. With a wink from our guide, we were good to go.
We descended stairs and entered an underground foyer-two rooms that were intended as a barrier to potentially harmful microbes. We stepped into a solution and then wiped our shoes on a mat; and then repeating that in a second room. Before we entered the cave itself, our guide gave us the game plan: We would walk into the darkness, and then wait a minute or two for our eyes to adjust. Only then would he turn on the low-level lights with a remote control. We entered the cave. The environment immediately made its influence felt: the cool moist air, the rough rock underfoot. Even in darkness, there was no doubt about the environment. The vibes of the place were over-whelming. We walked a short distance and then stopped and waited with great anticipation. We waited. Then suddenly the cave was lit. As luck would have it, I was facing the most iconic image of Lascaux-the Painted Gallery in the Great Hall of the Bulls. The effect was devastating. I could barely catch my breath. I was swept away-like being in the middle of a stampede of these great animals.. It’s hard to describe in words. Those first moments in Lascaux was the most powerful experience I have ever had in art. To this day it follows me. We were told, going in, that our pass allowed 30 minutes inside the cave. Our guide, one of the young men who had discoveded the cave when he was a boy, enjoyed our unabashed enthusiasm, and we ended up staying for almost an hour. He took us through the cave network where each turn produced a new mind-blowing image. The scale and extent of the work is truly amazing. There is a debate over the ‘meaning’ of the images. The caves contain nearly 2,000 figures, grouped into three main categories: animals, human figures and abstract symbols. It has been proposed that the artwork includes prehistoric star charts. Another theory is that the art is spiritual in nature, representing visions experienced during vision-quest type experiences. Other anthropologists and art-historians theorize that the paintings could function as a Talisman- some mystical ritual with the purpose of bringing success to future hunting efforts. Whatever their ground of being, these Paleolithic images are infused with a power and beauty that makes them unique. They speak to us from another time, from another world, like a gift.
We emerged from the cave. It was cold as hell, wet and getting dark. I barely noticed. I was speechless. It was like a positive version of being in shock. We made our way to a nearby train station and within a few hours were bound for Paris. It was two or three hours before I was able to speak a coherent sentence. I have yet to fully recover. One of the intuitive experiences I took away was that the people who created these images lived lives of great rapture. They were fully present in every moment. Their lives may have been short, but their vitality reached through seventeen thousand years like it was yesterday. Lascaux is the greatest masterpiece that I have ever seen. It redefines the meaning of being human. It is a monument to us, just as it is to its Creators.
c 2012 Frank LaLumia