The Lardner Report

Artists share their moment with the first painting that moved them.

We’ve all had epiphanies. Those life-changing moments that Webster defines as “a manifestation of a divine or supernatural being.” For me, and countless others, that is not an overstatement. It’s an accurate description of how sacred — and profound — the first artist connection proved to be.

I remember seeing Henri Rousseau’s “The Dream” when I was about 12. I stood there crying in front of my mother at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. I felt so connected to the artist — and so honored to be standing inches away from the canvas he stood before, and made his own. I knew this was an experience I would remember for the rest if my life. (Pic #1)

In fact, I was so sucked into his world, I began researching exotic plants to include in my own paintings…and back then that meant poring through the pages of the encyclopedia. The photo on the left is what I painted in tribute to Rousseau. I was 19. I called the painting, “Mandrill.” I don’t paint like that anymore, but I’m still drawn to strong colors and shapes.

I think I also liked Rousseau’s simple life story. He spent his adult years as a customs agent, and while his paintings referenced exotic jungle flora and wildlife, his research consisted only of visits to the Botanical Gardens of Paris. He never left the city.

Art News recently profiled a handful of musicians, writers and scientists about their first magical encounters with art. (April/May 2021)  I found many of their choices quite charming.

A musician named J. Mascis cited a painting by Andy Hope, completed in 2018. His wow moment of connection also came from his childhood. The work is called “Heedrahtrophia 1 (Pic #3). When he first saw the piece, he said the creature reminded him of “an energy monster” from Johnny Quest — a cartoon he says clearly stayed in his subconscious for decades.

Mascis was so taken with the painting, he asked the artist for permission to use it on his album cover. Done deal.

Here in Los Angeles, I asked a couple of extraordinary artists to share their holy moments.

Raul de la Torre, born in Barcelona, remembers the exact moment in his childhood: seeing “Self Portrait” by Joan MIro at age 12, in 1977. (Pics #4 #5) Not only did he get to see the most memorable work of his lifetime, but his tour guide that day was none other than Joan Miro himself.

Raul says he became obsessed, and he continues to visit the work every year “as if it were a member of the family.”

Raul is captivated by two layers of the painting — one started in 1937 — and the other completed in 1960. (Pic #4 + #5) From surrealism (in Miro’s early career) to pure abstraction in the end, Raul sees “an artist’s evolution in one work.”

He says even today — decades later — Miro informs his own work. (Pic #6) Check out the texture made by selected cuts in the canvas later “repaired” by carefully-chosen embroidery threads: the perfect support system for layers and layers of gracefully poured paint. Also the work of a master.

Sharon Weiner: Los Angeles based painter Sharon Weiner remembers her magical encounter on a visit to Italy in 1989. She found her moment in a small church built in the 14th century, and the artist’s work would enrapture her for years.

The artist was Giotto — his masterful frescoes bless the walls of the Scrovegni (Arena) chapel in Padua.

Sharon had been on a tour bus all day, and was sick with a bad cold. After many stops, she had little interest in one more. But all that changed when she entered the stunning, divinely adorned place of worship. (Pic #7) Since then, she, like so many others, has treasured the moment — and the experience — which has enriched her own painting in many ways. (Pic #8) I’ve been a fan of Sharon’s work for years, and like Giotto, there’s an indescribable beauty in her abstractions, and sometimes I’m happy just to stare — as I did at age 12, in front of Monsieur Rousseau’s iconic mystical masterpiece.