Tuesday, September 11, 2012

A Striking Appearance (A/C BP #2)



Hello again. So this past week we, my class, took a visit to the Palmer Museum (an art museum here on campus). The instructions, poorly paraphrased, were to find a piece of art that strike “you”, the individual, and take some notes about it. Next, we are supposed to blog about it. Shocker, right? Right then, so let’s get to it…  

I like art, I admit, but sometimes pieces that become museum worthy just make my head turn and ask really rude questions like, “How did this get in here?” I don’t recall the name of one of the painting, but it was just a giant gradient, and the colors weren’t anything special. I obviously missed the statement on that one, and kept moving forward. There were some nice sculpting pieces though. Nothing struck me though. I ended up searching the museum twice trying to find something that stood out, meanwhile I tried to avoid this little corner in the back, top floor where another group was having a class it seemed. Go figure, once the group moved on a little bit and I searched this back corner I had neglected, I found what I was looking for. There was a section of scenery paintings, though I hesitate to call them landscapes. The one that stood out to me a beach scene, so I wandered a little closer, took a better look at it, and found a comfortable spot on the hard tile floor to take notes.  

The piece I observed, and am now analyzing, is titled “Crépuscule” (c.1880’s) by American artist Thomas Alexander Harrison (1853-1930). “Twilight”, translating “crepuscule” from French, is an oil painting on canvas. I’ll try to create as vivid am image as possible. Here come the detailed writing skills...  

It’s a scene on the beach .I’d like to argue it has impressionism traits from the overall “fuzzy” appearance, quick strokes, and purposeful lack of detail. The view point of the painting places the viewer in the wet sand, the horizon spreading clear across. It’s generally dark, save for the rising sun on the left end of the painting. There’s an overcast of clouds. The water is calm and dark as it reflects the equally darkened sky. There are waves that are coming in are breaking close together, and washing up gently on the beach with a little bit of foam. From the point of view given, I’d assume the viewer of that scene felt the cool waters rushing over his feet. On the left side of the image, there’s a ship. It has masts, so given the time frame of the 1880s I’m guessing it’s another cargo ship sailing along. The ship is kept blurry and sort of gray, a vague appearance, to add to an illusion of disparity and therefore distance.  

Let’s take it a step further. Most of the imagery I’m going to present here is my own thought on the image. I haven’t looked up anything on it yet from previous studies, if any. Conveniently, this year when I went to Ocean City, Maryland with my family on vacation, I somehow got up to watch the sunrise. I was just figuring, “Why not? Let’s see what’s so special.” That’s another story, but the point is I’ve seen something like this painting before in my own life, and have drawn some conclusions on that basis. The scene is obviously occurring at a twilight hour as per the title. More specifically it is morning, as the ocean – presumably the Atlantic – is on the “right” side of the viewer; the image is actually captured at an odd angle only capturing a sliver of the actual beach in the bottom left corner. The yellow Harrison uses is generally masked behind the white clouds, and is gentle, so it’s a few minutes after the sun has taken its full form over the horizon. The brightness is still gentle though. The sun light is breaking through the night sky, lighting the left part of the picture in a light blue before it strikes the clouds in the center of the image.  

The clouds are deserving of their own paragraph. They cover most of the painting in the sky from the center to the right. They’re dark, save for the portions stricken by the sun’s rays. I have some complaints for Harrison here. I’m not sure if he made a mistake or…like five, but there were some strokes of white that just looked really sloppy. Some parts looked like globs of white paint that were just put there and forgotten about. It’s a notable “error” on the painting noticeable from some six feet away, and it really takes away from the texture of the clouds. Generally speaking, they looked realistic, save for these globs. I hesitate to call it an error because I know paint can just be a pain tow work with. I don’t paint, but from what painting I’ve had to do I always hated it, especially when trying to put light colors over dark ones (which is already a no-no). So you have these clouds that cast down darkness on the rest of the painting. 

The rest of the scene is of course the ocean, beach, and ship. The ocean is dark as far back as you can see, vaguely reflecting the darkness of the skies in color and texture. Naturally, the water texture overpowers that of the clouds, especially with the fluid movement of the tide. You have this choppy effect with sharp pointed waves that are relatively close. They’re small, I figure. Bigger waves just need more room for the wave to catch enough water and drag to get a higher crest. With this said, the waves roll over each other more than they break and rush forward. It’s like they reach their high point and then just topple over which creates this low wave with little foam. The actual perspective of the painting points the viewer in that breakwater. I can think back to that summer morning when I watched the sunrise. It was almost at that same angle, but the sky was much clearer. The water gently lapped up on the shore and the cool water slid right over my feet and through my toes (leaving that sticky, salty feeling). The small part of the beach sand that is seen is especially neat because there are hints of the sun’s reflection on it. The rays of light glimmered on the wet surface. It looked very realistic; again, save for the vague appearance from what I’m almost certain is an attempt at impressionism. The ship itself is just sort of there, sailing north judging from the sails. There’s only so much detail to discern it is indeed a ship sailing towards the north/sun. 

Analysis time! Alright, I’m going to start this analysis with the literal level. The emotional appeal of me draws from the literal analysis quite a bit. It’s really just this morning on the beach, but there’s so much imagery that comes to mind for me. I love the beach, like I’m hoping when I do get a home I somehow manage to get one on the beach I love it that much. Looking at “Twilight” so many memories came to mind, so many sensations. There was a smell and taste of the salty ocean water, yet it was cool and refreshing in this morning hour. It felt cool, not quite “cold” at that time. The rising sun brought a hint of warmth to the beach to keep for a balanced feeling of warm and cool, something comfortable. As always, I felt the ocean breeze as well, something gentle and flowing, like the small waves. That sensation of water washing over my feet is especially powerful; the initial shock of the temperature and gradual adjustment to the water is soothing. At a glance, it’s a dark image. The colors are depressing, with the exception sun-lit sky. I’d be dumb to forget the ship. For me, the relevance is just that there are ships sailing on the ocean, but I can take that a step further…


So now I’m going to delve into a more symbolic level. Much to the painting’s title, “Twilight”, I think of this in-between in time and space. It’s dark here, wherever “here” is. Like the waves, tides high and low, I have a feeling it’s meant to represent a moment of transition, a dark one at that. The ship becomes especially appealing to the audience now, especially sailing towards the sun. When I think of the sun, I think of brightness and hope. This ship has left the viewer behind somehow, and now he’s left watching. There’s no one else in the image or hint of others, so this leaves more possibilities. There’s the initial thought that he is alone here. There’s also a possibility that he’s just at the front and there are others. I can’t determine for sure. It’s a sad place to be regardless. The latter moment could even suggest that the viewer is sending people off towards something greater, better, and is now morning at the loss of companionship or an opportunity. In examining the coast as the Atlantic, I’m not sure where the ship might have been sailing or who was on it. The ethnic/racial profile of the artist will hopefully reveal a bit more to this idea.  

Another level I think this can be taken to is a religious one, although it’s sort of risqué considering it seems like an utterly secular piece otherwise. I view this moment of “Twilight” as a purgatory of sorts. The depressing colors and otherwise uneventful calmness lead me to this. There’s an overcast of clouds, something weighing down upon the viewer or obscuring his view or this paradise/sun. The ship would then represent those sailing towards this glowing world, presumably a heaven.  

My complaint with the two previous analyses is if I were to look at them outside of the time context. Eventually, the sun would rise, the ship would be gone, and the tide would change. How does this now change the context of the image? Even so, Harrison painted “Crépuscule” with the intent in picking this twilight hour, which credits my own analyses that much more.  Or at least I’d like to think so. :)  

So I ventured as far as wikipedia. There really isn't much out there on this guy. I might have been wrong about the setting a slight bit though. It seems Mr. Harrison's marine adventures were in the Pacific. The title being French isn't a surprise either. According thi this source he studied at the École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts (which would be l'ecole if we went totally French, but whatever!). Marine landscapes are one of his specialities though. Oddly, the one I found in the palmer didn't have much publicity. 

Maybe I can elaborate more on this too: my first visit to the Palmer. Ryan was not impressed. I wouldn’t particularly care to go there again. Maybe if I found some inspiration to visit a specific work, but the chances of such are slim to none. That’s sad…and too bad. iI's not that there is bad art there, it's just that very little of it appealed to me.

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