“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”
- Rainer Maria Rilke
In Barcelona, heading towards Portugal.
(Photo by Nancy Kaye, 1977) |
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Left to right: Nancy studying map, me with Michael engaged in pastry discussion.
Barcelona, 1977
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Photographing a demonstration against porn establishments in Times Square, NYC
(Photo by Nancy Kaye, 1984) |
"To be away from home and yet to feel oneself everywhere at home; to see the world, to be at the centre of the world, and yet to remain hidden from the world - impartial natures which the tongue can but clumsily define. The spectator is a prince who everywhere rejoices in his incognito. The lover of life makes the whole world his family, just like the lover of the fair sex who builds up his family from all the beautiful women that he has ever found, or that are or are not - to be found; or the lover of pictures who lives in a magical society of dreams painted on canvas. Thus the lover of universal life enters into the crowd as though it were an immense reservoir of electrical energy."
- Charles Baudelaire
After living in Europe for a year and a half, I returned to the Bay Area and decided to live in the City. While experiencing culture shock and getting to know San Francisco better, I lived in the Haight for a brief time. That's when I wrote the following letter Per Via Aerea to a teacher I had while attending art school in Aix-en-Provence. It came back Non Reclamata Al Mittente, American Express Co. Venezia. We used to joke about how in Italy they'd grind up lost letters for paper pulp but somehow the one I posted below survived. I sent it back to Aix and, again, it was returned to me. A few years later, I tried once more to send it but only had a virtual address:
September 27, 1977
Hi!
Thanks for the postcard - Venice must be so beautiful this time of year. I'm sure you are finding many opportunities to express your creativity.
I just finished making this incredible brown rice. I added onions, garlic, thyme and some other things to it. I still think of Provence a lot, especially when the two lovers above are screaming in ecstasy which makes their dogs start to howl, the girl below is practicing her French horn (she's quite disciplined), and ambulances are screeching around every corner. I imagine those quiet evenings when all I could hear was the Mistral. Anyway, its nice to know there are such places...
I'm listening to this great jazz station. Enjoying the solitude. Thank God there is always painting and endless reading to retreat into. I seem to want more out of life than before and making more demands on myself.
Its very difficult to come from an environment where those closest to me were concerned about my creativity, as well as their own, to one that seems disinterested and alien.
There's a class I'd like to take at the De Young Museum (in Golden Gate Park) on the etching process. I would love for you to send me one of yours - I imagine you've learned a lot by now. I am still planning to take the class on San Francisco art galleries. My friend and I thought the first day of class was Saturday so we wandered around the Art Institute until a policeman gave us the correct info. We walked into one room that was set up for model sessions and I could smell paint and turpentine. It really flashed me back to Aix and I could see you talking about art. It made me quite nostalgic.
Life continues to be a circus. J. called a couple of weeks ago. (The French horn begins) She's gone back to school and is waitressing part-time. It was wonderful talking to her but the connection was so terrible - she could hear me perfectly but her voice sounded a thousand miles away. So, I carried on a rather interesting conversation answering questions I imagined she was asking me. Oh, and I also received the most bizarre postcard from M. It was one of those three dimensional kind that provide action when tilted back and forth. This particular one can only be attributed to M.'s keen and sometimes perverse (ha!) aesthetic sense. Anyway, he is currently working on oil rigs in the North Sea and had to tear himself away from a hairdresser in London. Another amazing adventure of his trip happened on a Greek Island - only M. could manage that one!
At present I'm looking for a job. So, that's my goal for the week. I've decided short term goals are more appropriate at the time.
How is your Italian progressing? About all I can remember is lido, gelato, and pappagallo.
I've been reading a lot on photography lately. There is an exhibition of Steichen's works in the City. So, I've been studying a book on his photography, as well as Edward Weston's, a beginning photo. book on technique, and one explaining the Nikon system. I am so excited to get a camera (35mm) as I've been stuck with my Instamatic for years now and have stretched its creative ability to the breaking point. I feel that it will really help my painting and vice versa.
As far as my painting goes, I am finally getting some continuity in my work. Its such a high to create something that flows together. Last week I painted this picture of a barn with a fence running along one side and a field in the foreground. Its almost like a dream. I did it completely from imagination. Well, my problem was the barn! It just didn't flow with the rest. I kept putting white over it and trying again. Finally, I just relaxed, went after it like a child, totally uninhibited, and there it was...Voila!
I'm doing an oil of one of the old men that was in that charcoal drawing you liked - the one on the left with the cane. The other man in the drawing is all wrong.
Well, the moon is full - I have a feeling I'm going to get a job today. I'll have to get it together soon since I'll probably have to find another apartment.
Sometimes, when life seems right out of an Edgar Allen Poe Anthology I remember what the friend I travelled around Europe said one time when we'd been stuck for hours trying to hitch a ride on Crete, "Well, really, when you think about it - you know we won't be here forever." Shortly after an old Greek farmer picked us up on his tractor. It was the best ride I'd ever had!
Enjoy yourself, drifting down those canals creating one masterpiece after another. I hope a pigeon doesn't shit on your head. Yes, it happened to me on the Piazza San Marco! Take care. Please send a picture. Laurie
BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPHS FROM THE 70's and 80's
I printed the following black and white photographs during the 70's and 80's when I was first learning the medium. It was an adventure to roam city streets like a flaneur photographing people, architectural details, cityscapes, and nature. I loved it because I was able to capture images more quickly than with the oil paintings I had been doing at the Leo Marchutz School of Painting and Drawing in Aix-en-Provence. I experimented with different grades of paper - some quite expensive - but you can only spend so much on paper before hunger sets in. I remember anxiously trying to load canisters of film in a dark, claustrophobic space that I was trapped in until I got it right. The best part was how the hours would just melt away while the latent images of my pictures came to life.
While photographing people, the most important objective for me is to capture a specific emotion in a fleeting instant of time or, if possible, the essence of the individual. The greatest challenge is knowing that if I don't get it right the opportunity will be gone forever. Someone once told me I'd never be a successful photographer until I learned to print. The way I see it, success depends on how much I enjoy the process - no matter what medium I'm working in...
I've always been an intuitive, hands on artist - so an imperfect, raw quality always seems inevitable in my work. And, getting to some kind of truth, not beauty, has always been my primary interest.
Brushes and Paint
San Francisco, 1977
Rose Stems in a Glass Pitcher
San Francisco, 1977
Amanda's Aunt Ruth
Woodside, 1975
A Woman Waiting for Muni in the Richmond District
San Francisco, 1980
A Group of Women Talking in the Richmond District
San Francisco, 1979
Women Shopping on a Rainy Day
San Francisco, 1979
Man Playing the Accordian in Union Square
San Francisco, 1977
Two Friends at Fisherman's Wharf
San Francisco, 1980
Women Talking on Park Bench in Washington Square Park, North Beach
San Francisco, 1979
Journal Excerpt - November 18, 1979
Took camera out today - shot The City and leaves on the ground in Washington Square Park. Saw a lady knitting and a black woman was humming a gospel tune then started babbling nonsensically. Walked through North Beach with my $1.25 sandwich then had a desire to sit in the closest park which turned out to be in Chinatown. But, before that, I noticed a band marching down the middle of Grant Avenue and thought it was festive until I realized it was a funeral procession. Someone is always dying in Chinatown.
Flying Woman in Parade at the Civic Center
San Francisco, 1980
Polk Street Fair
San Francisco, 1979
Closure of 1st Street Barber Shop on Divisadero:
The Last Great Days of the Old Barber Shop Series
San Francisco, 1980
Demolition of Barber Shop, Divisadero Street:
The Last Great Days of the Old Barber Shop Series
San Francisco, 1980
Dimitri's Barber Shop, Columbus Avenue:
The Last Great Days of the Old Barber Shop Series
San Francisco, 1980
Dimitri's Clarinet, Dimitri's Barber Shop, Columbus Avenue:
The Last Great Days of the Old Barber Shop Series
San Francisco, 1980
A Boy Waiting With His Father, 24th Street Barber Shop, Mission District:
The Last Great Days of the Old Barber Shop Series
San Francisco, 1980
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A Young Man in Front of 24th Street Barber Shop, Mission District:
The Last Great Days of the Old Barber Shop Series
San Francisco, 1980
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American Legion Marching Band in Saint Patrick's Day Parade
South Boston, 1981
Three Southies Celebrating Saint Patrick's Day
Boston, 1981
Women in Conversation on Front Stoop
Boston, 1981
View from Cemetery of Dino's Sea Grill
Boston, 1981
(Photo taken with police recording film)
Automobile with Fins Wrapped in Plastic
Boston, 1981
I Love You Message in Winter
Boston, 1981
Young Girl in Polkadot Cape Playing in the Dirt
Boston, 1981
Married Couple Visiting a Friend in Retirement Home
Bellevue, Wash. 1983
Boy Watching Demolition of Building in Financial District
San Francisco, 1977
Embarcadero Freeway with City View from South of Market
San Francisco, 1983
Embarcadero Freeway with South of Market View of Transamerica Pyramid
San Francisco, 1983
Truckload of Tires and Rims, South of Market
San Francisco, 1979
Ravaged Wall, South of Market
San Francisco, 1983
Avantgarde Man, Nob Hill Studio
San Francisco, 1978
Grace Cathedral on a Foggy Day
San Francisco, 1980
Man Practicing Tai Chi in Huntington Park, Nob Hill
San Francisco, 1979
Winter Tree Shadow on Nob Hill
San Francisco, 1980
Architectural Detail of Building on Nob Hill
San Francisco, 1979
Trapeze Artist Flying Above City Neighborhood (Detail)
San Francisco, 1978
View of Three Cars From Nob Hill Rooftop
San Francisco, 1979
Rooftop of Nob Hill Studio
San Francisco, 1979
Rooftop of Nob Hill Studio
San Francisco, 1979
Self-Portrait, Nob Hill Studio
San Francisco, 1979
My Sister Under Her Wedding Veil
Cathlamet, WA 1973
Crushed Blind in the Tenderloin
San Francisco, 1980
Man Playing Video Game in Japan Town
San Francisco, 1987
Clown Alley, a good place to stop after a night at the Mabuhay Gardens
San Francisco, 1979
Southern Pacific Train Approaching Our House on Fifth Avenue
San Rafael, 1983
Shirtless Man Leaning Against Rosebush
San Rafael, 1983
View of The City
Sausalito, 1979
In the early 2000's, while working in the corporate world as a web content manager and technical product developer, I started exhibiting my art and was accepted into the MFA Painting Program at the San Francisco Art Institute. (See old posts for recent work).
7-15-03 (Journal Excerpt) SFAI
People at school say I talk a lot about process. I suppose I do because its important to me. Process; touch of a pencil, sliding paint over a surface, rough, smooth, jagged, erasure, retrieval, renovation. It's like playing improvisational music and not knowing where the next note is coming from...
