Like the painter, Beatrice Mandelman, the famous Taos Modernist, coming to New Mexico dramatically changed my art. Prior to arriving here my career had been spent as a realist painter, primarily figurative and genre work.
When I first visited Truchas, I was in something of a transition with my work. I was abstracting the backgrounds and playing with loosening up the figures. I remember thinking about a large canvas I was in the midst of as I made the drive from Utah to New Mexico. I’d had so much fun with the background but had left all the figure areas unpainted and was dreading filling them in on my return. Then I had an epiphany: I could make paintings without people in them!
Upon arrival in Truchas I stayed up until 3 in the morning sketching abstracts. I went back to Utah and painted my first nonrepresentational show. I think most of you know that life changes usually happen over time and in ways we don’t always see while we’re in the middle of them. My art was changing but I couldn’t see exactly how or why yet.
Shortly after making the move to New Mexico I took six canvasses to a Canyon Road gallery. The owner generously gave me his time and critiqued the paintings. He said he didn’t feel invited into them—that he found them flat. I thought about this all day and into the night. As I got in bed, I realized there was no shadow and light in my work. This was a rather shocking revelation because intense contrast had always been the driving force of my art. In that moment, I saw that dark tonalities and their bright counterparts had been absent from my paintings for some time.
In considering this, I came to understand that when I paint shadow, I am actually painting my own dark side. As odd as this may sound, even when I painted realistically, there was a connection for me between painting dark tones and delving into my darker psyche. I used to be very conscious, in my work, that shadow defined light and light defined shadow—one, literally, can’t exist without the other. Like life. But it was more than a metaphor for me. It was energetically real in the act of painting. I think I instinctively quit painting shadow because I had suffered so much loss in Utah that I just couldn’t tolerate it. Have any of you experienced that kind of self protection where you don’t even know you’re doing it? That’s what I’d done with my work without realizing it.
But moving to New Mexico changed that. It made me aware. It was as if Spirit brought me to this place to get reconnected. I was now required to “go there.” My initial explorations into shadow, after that, created a series I called the Dark Horse Series and the very first piece was titled “Going There.”
Living on this land, my work continues to shift and develop. Color holds very little meaning for me right now. As I delve into the high contrast of this bright mountain light, I continue to strip away all but dark against light—llano fences on the snow, burned out aspens stark in winter skies or standing like black lines against summer’s sun bleached pastures.
I have entered into a time of intense painting which I’ve shared, some, with you on this blog. I feel new work brewing in me, along with a desire to re-look at some of the series that went before. I don’t yet know what is germinating but of one thing I am certain: shadow and light once again form the foundation of my work. I am driven by stark contrast. Color may or may not be a visitor to my canvasses again, but black and white are the bones my soul will hang itself on. Can’t wait to see what happens. Are you with me?
Love to you all,
Jeane
Love seeing the journey of your work and how it has unfolded with your own internal process. You continue to amaze me. So privileged to “know” you.
Blessings,
Sheri
Wow, thank you, Sheri. What a lovely compliment. Looking back always offers such an interesting perspective–we get to see things we couldn’t while we were in them. Our journeys are amazing, aren’t they? No matter what is going on, it’s such a gift to be alive–complicated and rich.
I’m with you:)
XOXO
Grace
🙂
I ADORE the beautiful Dog painting…it will always be a favorite of mine.
I can’t remember if you know the story behind that one. I was painting at home, still working my corporate job, but I’d given my notice and was planning on pursuing art. I was deep in doubt and the internal critic was having a field day. Then the phone rang and it was a woman calling to commission this piece. She was recently back in the northwest but she’d been Executive Editor of Interview Magazine in NYC and had lived with Andy Warhol until his death. I took it as an absolute sign from the universe that I was supposed to continue painting. So that painting holds a very special place in my heart.
My paintings! Glad you moved in this direction.
Thanks Sue. You know every single stage was necessary to get me to these. I love how that works.
I love your art Jeane…both realistic and abstract. Growing up, I watched my own father’s art change…actually in the other direction. Throughout his early years, he was strictly an abstract artist, but …during the last 20 years or so…he turned to doing watercolours and pen and ink drawings of places and people he loved. In my home, I have pieces from throughout his career and I treasure them. Art is obviously dynamic and changing…as we grow and change. I look forward to watching your talent evolve.
Thank you, Kim. It is remarkable to me how joined my art is with my life. They are one and the same. I can’t change my life without changing my art and vice versa. So our art becomes a sort of intimate diary, showing shifts we don’t always see while we’re in them. You have your father’s life on your walls. What a beautiful treasure indeed.
Jeane, I completely understand what you are saying here. And thank you for the lovely trip down time. I am loving my new piece from you. The sparkle delights me! Thank you so much! Joy
I THOUGHT you would like the mica! You’re that “glitter” kind of person–of course I mean that in a good way. 🙂
You continue to inspire me, thank you.
What a nice compliment, Paula. Thank you! It’s the whole reason I’m doing the blog–to show you that if I’m doing it, you can too.
I love your realist paintings; you are very good with light and shadows and they look like photographs! But I also love how your journey developed into what it is today! You are a very talented artist and am very happy to get to see your pieces which I’m sure are more splendid face to face with them. You inspire me! Thanks for the story of your jorney. Take Care, Cin =)
Thanks Cindy. It’s been a very interesting journey. I feel like something new is being born right now but I don’t know what. I am in the midst of a shift that I can feel but not “see” yet. Once I have some real time and space to paint we’ll see. So glad to be part of the inspiration and that you’re on this journey with me.
Thanks Cindy. It’s been a very interesting journey. I feel like something new is being born right now but I don’t know what. I am in the midst of a shift that I can feel but not “see” yet. Once I have some real time and space to paint we’ll see. So glad to be part of the inspiration and that you’re on this journey with me.