I previously wrote about Św. Szymon Słupnik (en. Saint Simeon Stylites), with the intent of expanding on the subject. My son’s name is Szymon. In Poland, where he was born, names usually corespond with a Catholic Saint. Each Saint has a designated day on the Catholic calendar and that becomes one’s “name day”. While there are several noteable Saint Simons, the one I was looking for and previously wrote about was Saint Simon Stylites (Św. Szymon Słupnik in Polish). I found at least one reference that this Simon is celebrated on January 6th. With the 6th in mind, I made an interpretation of the painting of Saint Simon previously found.
The vector artwork above began with an ink drawing. Later it was scanned. Color, additions, and compositional changes were made in the program Inkscape.
While the name day date was not as precisely determined as the birthday, I can tell Szymon “happy name day”. I hope this is something he can remember.
When I was eleven years old, I thought I wanted to be an architect. I was attracted to building, materials, and the feeling of being in a place. However, I did not know what an architect did aside from make plans. Although, I lost the desire to be an architect, I still feel connected to the feeling that architecture evokes. I am aware how these shapes, ornament, and colors help form my perspective.
A building can hold and reveal stories and is a place to look out of and through. In the example above, I continue to examine Italian Rennaisance architecture. Here I fashioned a drawing after a domed building inspired by Andrea Palladion. While I am merely interpreting or making a derivative version of a building, I am also aware that art reveals more than one subject, and the inescapable subject is the medium itself. For example the act of painting always reveals the language and construction of painting. I realize now that I am also attracted to the structure and planning of architecture and perhaps this is what led me to study printmaking. Although different discipline, making prints required step by step planning and an exacting sensibility a kin to the architectural process.
While I have gained great pleasure from making prints and it has been an important component of my art, the means of its production has proven more and more ineffective when compared with digital rivals that tap into the same esthetic. Without a studio I can use vector graphics to prepare a range of marks equivalent to what I would have previously carved for a relief print. I can make blocks of color similar to the stencils made for screen printing. I can even use bitmap in photoshop to approximate touche washes used in lithography. Additionally, with a digital illustration, I have the freedom to test and make adjustments with less effort.
Because vector illustration can approximate printmaking, does this mean that myself or others should quit making prints? Probably not. However, it becomes increasingly apparent that one’s process may outlive its usefulness. This is worth investigating in much the same way we ought to consider the value of razing an old building to replace it with something new. Sometimes we have regrets and at other times the new results are an improvement.
Because I lack expert knowledge about pandemics, like the one the world is currently faceing, I felt it more useful to write about something else. Perhaps metaphors could be found here. However, my main intent is examine and reconcile competing demands.
As I have been focused on fatherhood and a new job, my artistic output has dwindled. In fact, I thought I was facing an artistic death. This would be a minor tragedy in relationship to a literal death. Additionally, while pre-occupied with more basic responsibilities, travel has seemed more of a luxury. I am currently living in Warsaw Poland, and one of my more modest goals is to visit the city of Zamość. It is described as an ‘ideal example of a Renaissance town’.
For now any travel has been postponed. However, after mentioning my desire to spend a day in Zamosc, I was gifted a book about Italian Renaissance architecture (the Renaisance represented a rebirth). I started making drawings inspired by this architecture. So far, all that I could complete was an image of a doorway.
While creating an image of this door is a start, I imagine being at this threshold viewing a city. It is my hope to eventually see Zamość and perhaps more drawings will emerge after revisiting the Renaissance.
I have a particular memory from childhood of being on a tree farm at night. Because the trees were small (pine trees for Christmas I assume) the sky seemed big. I remember my father being there. We were separated from cars, houses, and other people. Most of my life I wanted to recapture this sublime feeling of harmony, fresh air, and beautiful sights. While my memory of this experience feels palpable, I am uncertain what was real and what I am imagining to be true.
To duplicate this scene with all of the complex emotions involved is not possible. However, I can inch toward it through art and an openness to new experiences. Through artistic practice, a window can open to more to deeper feelings. To create with less willful intent allows magic to happen in its own unfolding way. With the tree farm fresh in mind, I decided to make a pine tree of my own. Differing from trick or illusion, true magic provides an evocative spark that could arrive even with a solitary tree.