Compressionism

 In 1874 Louis Leroy, an apparently mediocre artist but critic for Le Charivari, reviewed Monet's Impression Sunrise, thus "It was more like a 'sketch' or an 'impression' than a finished artwork.'" And thus a lukewarm assessment of Monet's image gave birth to the name of the collected works of time-honored artists. Similarly, the term "Expressionism" is said to be the work Czech art historian Antonin Matejcek in 1910. Neither an artist of significant note, but somehow captured "naming rights" to schools of artistic works.

And the tradition holds. Most the "isms" in the art world - e.g. Surrealism, Impressionism, Expressionism, Mannerism, and all their Pre and Post phases - defined particular ways, presentations and interpretations, of visualizing the physical world or interpreting how we experience life in the world. Occasionally I wonder, while working on an image, in which of those many niches would my work fit most comfortably? And the answer continues to be "none of them."

So, exercising the perennial prerogative of poets and critics, I decided to create my own niche. I have decided to call my two-dimensional works over the last couple of decades "compressionism." Why? OK. Bear with me.

If an "ism" defines a particular way of experiencing and repesenting life, then my images should do that. Those ways of experiencing evolve over the course of our existence. Neurologists tell us that our brain does not fully develop until our 20s, perhaps into our 30s. Hence my experiences from those early years - and any representations of them - would differ from those I create now in my seventh decade. So let me consider these current experiences and their expressions or representations.

I feel that I experience my life these days not so much as a layer cake with 76 layers stepping the way to the present, but rather as a really, really big pizza, with lots and lots of toppings from various times, people and places scattered about.

This shift in perception was highlighted in a recent dream. I used to think my dreams were populated mostly with strangers and only a few people who I recognized. But the more recent dream presented me with the idea that those "strange" characters are individuals from disparate decades who have been compressed into a shared experience - which has made them difficult to recognize. In the dream a couple of "strange characters" broke the layer cake barrier. Upon waking from the dream which featured recognizable characters from one era, I found myself reflecting on another character - "Who was that?" I was startled to finally realize that the "stranger" was actually a recognizable individual who had played a role in my life decades earlier than the dreams primary protagonists.

Hence the "layer cake" analogy for life, experience and art crumbled, replaced by the giant pizza. Obviously, I will now attempt to give more attention to the minor players in my dreams - if such a thing is possible.

So how does the pizza figure in my art. I'm not really sure. It is a new area of conjecture for me, born - like my dreams, I suppose, of restless nights and those moments when my markers are busy on the spaces on my drawing table. Let me natter on a bit. [What has he been doing until now? Shhh.]

In my art the most consistent element is color, lots of bright colors. The subject matter is as widely varied as the experiences that are scattered across the distant crusts of the giant pizza.  But the palette remains quite the same. Perhaps an exceptionally talented psychiatrist or therapist might discern a relationship between the various shades and hues and the emotions captured in the images. But frankly I do not care. The colors often seem to self-select, and almost without fail make me happy.

I must, though, address the subjects. They are both created both created and stolen. Examples might be most helpful. 

First Created:

In 2020 and 2021 the first COVID pandemic was sweeping the nation. Lots of opinions little information although vaccines were rolling out. I found it comforting to compress the chatter from the media into some visible forms:

So I created this guy "Covinoperegrinus" named after the peregrine falcon - fastest creature on earth to represent the spread of the disease. 

And of course, faces of the disease iteslf:

And second, stolen:

First I stole Vermeer's iconic Girl with the Pearl Earring which you can search for on any search engine.  I don't remember how I actually copied it so I could paint with it. But you can easily find it.

And then I created a design within Vermeer's outlines and compressed the two together:

And finally, this image which was based on several recollections of tactics I learned as a theater major undergraduate in a make-up course.

So, Compressionism.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.