The Lardner Report

Unleash your creative superpowers!

Through The Artist’s Eye

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What they see is not what we get.

(Pic #1) Left: Scene that inspired David Hockney painting on right.

(Pic #2) (Left) Collage from a commercial catalogue of utensils - source for shapes in painting on right (Joan Miro)

(Pic #3) (Left) Mont Sainte-Victoire, today - source for numerous oil paintings by Paul Cezanne (right).

A lesson from Hockney, Miro, and Cezanne:

Artists show us fresh ways to see familiar things. They’re able to look at something – in nature, on the street, or in life – and interpret the scene or situation in their own very personal way.

To an artist – just about everything is interesting. And as the rest of us expose ourselves to new works of art – radical statements, or unique ideas — our own sense of  “what works” grows stronger.

On this page, we see how contemporary British painter David Hockney (Pic #1, right) takes a serene country scene and creates a colorful palette of pinks, tangerines and lilacs celexa that aren’t even present in the original photo – just one way an artist makes something his own.

Spanish painter/sculptor Joan Miro (Pic #2, right) extracts very specific shapes from his source material – cutout photos of metal utensils and medical instruments – and interprets them in quirky ways on canvas. It’s almost as if his new shapes – with their added detail and spiky lines — have developed a perky personality.

(Pc #4) Paul Cezanne on site - Mont Sainte-Victoire, 1906

Finally, French impressionist Paul Cezanne (Pic #3) became obsessed with interpreting one particular landscape in the South of France – the iconic Mont Sainte-Victoire – and painted it over 60 times. Each painting gives us something new – a different angle, an altered point-of-view, varied textures, or dramatically different hues. It’s something an artist can’t fight – and in fact, truly defines who he is. It’s also why artists are first to observe and reflect changes in society, culture, and taste.

The Art of Teaching Art

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(Pic #1) My own "sidewalk show" found on the street in Calabasas, California

How my high school art teacher changed the way I view – everything.

I remember the day I understood what it meant to succeed at a task – specifically a school art project. It wasn’t the grade — nor the obligatory oohs and ahs from my parents — it had to be something I felt inside. I didn’t know this until I was 15 – when my 10th grade art teacher, “Mr. Printz” tossed out a question that made me cry.

(Pic #2) Robert Printz, former Great Neck North High School Art Teacher

We were assigned a sculpture project, and I had chosen to make a plaster of paris oak tree in the middle of our living room in Great Neck, Long Island. I knew I needed something to hold the plaster onto the trunk, so I bought a roll of chicken wire and made what I thought was an adequate column, covered in traditional paper mache, and onto which I spackled the wet plaster.

Epic fail.

The plaster never dried, and by the time I had gotten the masterpiece to class, I had left a goopy white trail from my house through the halls of Great Neck North.  The project had become an oozing blob of white goo supported by a sickly crumpled wire foundation… resembling a little more of a Dr. Seuss character than I might have hoped.

I knew I had to submit the work, and had to speak about it.  I was paralyzed.  But Mr. Printz cut right through my consternation, and asked one thing:

“Lon, does this piece raise your blood pressure?”

At first I thought, well, yes, but only because I am completely humiliated.  I knew that wasn’t what he meant. He went on to explain that you know when a work is good when it sends you somewhere, speaks to you, makes you really feel something.

 I felt nothing.

Lesson learned: Appreciating a turn of phrase, a high note, a sidewalk show

From that day on, I have always tried to judge my work by this standard, and it has become a part of my psyche – an  internal mechanism of sorts — for appreciating and exploring art: in literature, in music, and on canvas.

It’s why I get so excited reading certain descriptions of nature in a Robert Frost poem, hearing the late jazz great Susannah McCorkle sing “Waters of March” or finding an unexpected artistic jolt on the sidewalk while I’m out for a jog. I’m now recognizing — and savoring — when I do feel my blood pressure rise.  It’s what’s supposed to happen when you do your best work, and appreciate the beauty of art around you.

In describing blue butterflies, I love that Frost uses the phrase “flowers that fly.” (See poem above.) I still get misty when McCorkle slips into the Portuguese chorus, and just last week my blood steamed up when I saw this Mondrian-style cement block (Pic #1) on a sidewalk in Calabasas.

It’s a wonder I have time for anything else. Thank God for that, and for a sobering critique from Mr. Printz.

“Life is not measured by the breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away.”

— Tina Adderholdt

 

Left Brain – Right Brain: In Living Color

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Smash Hit: Ad Campaign for Mercedes Benz Israel by Y&R Interactive, Tel Aviv

It’s not hard to see that the brains behind this stunning print campaign lean right.  The images showcase the qualities of the two opposing parts of the brain that complement each other: the left side, responsible for analysis and logic — juxtaposed with (or maybe more accurately – compatible with) the more creative, intuitive side. The message, according to Communication Arts,  is that “Mercedes Benz, like the brain, represents a combination of opposites that together create technological innovation, breakthrough engineering, inspiring design and passion.”

Whatever. I stand in awe of this sweet, super-clever metaphorical celebration of science and art.

A closer look: The text in the copy for the left brain reads:

“I am the left brain. I am a scientist. A mathematician. I love the familiar. I categorize. I am accurate. Linear. Analytical. Strategic. I am practical. Always in control. A master of words and language. Realistic. I calculate http:healthsavy.com equations and play with numbers. I am order. I am logic. I know exactly who I am.”

Text in the copy for the right brain reads:

“I am the right brain. I am creativity. A free spirit. I am passion. Yearning. Sensuality. I am the sound of roaring laughter. I am taste. The feeling of sand beneath bare feat. I am movement. Vivid colors. I am the urge to paint on an empty canvas. I am boundless imagination. Art. Poetry. I sense. I feel. I am everything I wanted to be.”

And if you’re still wondering where you fit — you can always take this Left Brain – Right Brain Test here. For more Mercedes images, click here.