I knew an artist’s model once.
Kenneth Noland Mysteries at Chac Mool Gallery
I knew an artist’s model once. She wasn’t as bad
as she was painted.
Box 13: The Haunted Artist
Five paintings in all, covering the four walls of a fair-sized gallery (and one in the back, behind the long table in the office or library).
Take a summer day, or spring day, that’s Sky Blue. Optic dazzle is the keynote achieved, but plain poetry will do, the kind perceived across a room, plainly.
As for instance interference background with brushwork (Platinum).
Wild Heart is again something you see plainly, even unmistakably, ten or fifteen feet away.
For the grand old masters, step into the back room. It’s Titian or Rembrandt with Spanish gold, an austere reflective masterpiece: The Other Side of Midnight.
For the fineness of the exhibit, I direct your attention to the very much less flashy object on the north wall (facing Melrose Avenue you are), dishing out razzle and clean lines in the correct proportions, with a Kandinsky or Klee balancing of tones, Outsider.
JPEGs can’t convey it.