On first seeing Wheatfields I was astounded at the sheer
physicality of the thing. With a rush to release profound feeling, it rejects the mere onlooker, forcing the viewer to actually, actively see. The work, so charged with emotional intensity, comes close to the mediocrity of good intent. Like the plays Hamlet and Lear, it hovers at the edge of cliché and the sentimental...but never crosses the line. Occasionally, I revisit the visual shock of that painting. The high emotion has something in common with the unrestrained outpouring of broken hearted youth...no less than the quieter deep-seated grief of loss...(we recognize ourselves in both!) both are very real! As real as those 20 feet of yellow faux fur!
By way of digression, a rambling introduction:
On this site you will find some essays (in two senses of the word: 1) compositions, disquisitions or explications and 2) trial assays, attempts) in the artwork and sceneographical sections, and visual stuff throughout. In these pages and elsewhere, for the most part, I do not discuss my own work directly, but by adjacency (or by some other quality of angular position) approach the sum of concerns—around which I have been circling for a very long time—that inform and underlie every mark of my every work.
Thank you for coming and taking the time to peruse.
Artwork: That's my personal work, a small selection. It also includes a few brief essays (which can be safely ignored).
Scenography: That's set design and related work. A selection of some projects.
About: A letter of sorts, not a resume...but indicative, nonetheless.