Butterfield at the Airport

If you ever get a deja vu feeling when you see the horse in the sculpture court it could be that you are remembering, faintly, the ones you saw near the airport. In 1995 the Portland International Airport commissioned some of Butterfield's horses to graze the drive as one leaves the airport. They have names. These two are Lyon and Princess Pine.
Made to look like wood, the wood pieces are each cast into molds, she burns out the stick and pours in molten bronze. She has to assemble them in wood first and take numerous photographs so when she has all the bronze pieces she will know how they go back together. Having made horses in wood that deteriorated over time she decided she needed a permanent fix to her wooden horses, and as creatives do, she made it happen.
My latest horse story is something I picked up from watching Philip Glass speak at the museum last week. He was talking about his work setting Jean Cocteau's film Beauty and the Beast to opera. Glass explained how Cocteau's hidden message of magic and power was a metaphor for the life of the artist, or for anyone whether she calls herself an artist or not.
The Beast tells Beauty that she can have all his magic powers, the horse, the mirror, the rose, the key and the glove.
As Glass pondered the meaning of the five powers he quickly concluded that Cocteau's horse stood for strength and determination. The rose stood for the goal, which is beauty. The mirror stood for the path that the artist, or person, must take. The key is the technique that the artist employs. But he couldn't figure out what Cocteau meant by the glove. He showed the audience the scene in the film where the beast removes the glove and gives it to Beauty.
It is a velvet and gold threaded bejeweled thing. Glass says it was when he realized the detail in the glove that the fifth magic power made sense. The glove stands for nobility and pride, it means the artist must know she is noble and worthy of the path and the goal and that she has the right technique to ride the horse of strength and determination.
Philip Glass and Jean Cocteau are in good company with Deborah Butterfield and her noble horses.

Deborah Butterfield ~ Dance Horse, Inside

Ten years ago, Dance Horse lived inside. Here is a shot of Deborah Butterfield's sculpture on the 4th Floor of the Hoffman Wing at the Portland Art Museum in 1999. Standing as regal as it does out in the Sculpture Garden today, it somehow has a different overall aura. I feel less like offering it an apple or a carrot. Why is that?

Take a tour through Flickr.com using the tags Portland, art, and museum. You'll see any number of photos. Now go to the museum's official website and read the rules. I have been fascinated by what people have taken photos of and then chosen to upload on Flickr. All of that takes intention. And intention defines a major portion of modern art.

Deborah Butterfield ~ Dance Horse

When you're walking by the Portland Art Museum, you're able to see a portion of the collection without even stepping through the doors, let alone paying admission. This week's selection here at Fifty Two Pieces is one of the many sculptures in the outdoor Sculpture Garden. Rain or shine, day or night, Deborah Butterfield's Dance Horse stands as if looking for a carrot, apple or maybe some alfalfa. Butterfield is known for her horse sculptures. This week well be looking more closely at Dance Horse as well as some of the others that she has created over the years and released into the wild.

Raphael ~ La Velata

Yes, I've been here in Portland since October 24 and I'll be here for another two months. Each day except Sunday and Monday is the same for me. Visitors start to visit at 10 am except Sunday when it's at noon.Security seems to always be here. Monday the museum is closed so I'm pretty much by myself except for that ever present Security. I'm really beginning to like this touring away from home. Home for me is the Palatine Gallery at the Pitti Palace in Florence, Italy. Back there sometimes people hardly even stop to see me, the place is so large. They've seen so many other paintings; they have an agenda; they're hungry; they're tired. Here in Portland, they've made a special point to come and see me. They stand close, not as close as Raphael did, but close. It's good to look into their eyes and see my reflection. I hear them talk about how I look. They stay for a long time, ten or 15 minutes just looking. That's a good feeling.

I'm dressed in creamy silk, I'm like a portrait in beige and white. I wanted to wear more red but Raphael said no. When you come to see me you'll see how he painted my veil and the background, they're so similar in color but not. And then look at the gold trim on the sleeves. And those sleeves – I loved how the material was so very full. He said that with all of those creams against my skin tones I would attract more attention. People would stay longer to look at the way the shadows change, how the values of the colors shift. Look at how he painted the folds of the sleeves. I'm positive he put those three bows around my neckline so your eyes would be certain to take in all of my neck around the back even. He also insisted that strand of hair on my forehead be not quite in place. I wanted to put it back but he said no. "This is how I remember you. Sitting there across the room from me with that all knowing gaze. Men will look at you and see you as a sensual woman. Women will look at you and see you as a sensual woman. Both will see you as a strong person, someone to reckon with." That's what I remember him saying. Oh and other things but they were just between him and me.

I'm glad he waited to paint me in 1516. His style of painting seemed so much more realistic than what he had done five and ten years before. He used a technique called sfumato that Leonardo had developed. (Here's a definition from About.Com Sfumato: A word, from the Latin (via Italian) fumare ("to smoke"), used to denote a painting technique. Sfumato means that there are no harsh outlines (as in a coloring book) present; areas blend into one another through miniscule brushstrokes, which makes for a rather hazy, albeit more realistic, depiction of light and color.) My skin does look quite marvelous especially compared to that of Maddalena Doni - take a look at her portrait on the left. Raphael painted her back in 1506. I also prefer how he did my necklace and hair ornament. There's a nice contrast with my skin but they're not gaudy or ostentatious. Speaking of flash, look at her left hand – does she have enough rings on? Raphael hid my left hand in my portrait. In La Fornarina, the ring is shown, albeit small and discreet. That pleased me.

You'll really get to know me when you come to the gallery. Be patient and maybe you'll have some time with just me alone (the security officers are very discreet). We'll have that moment where we can exchange glances. And then you'll want to see me again and again. You'll have that chance until January 3 and then I go to Reno, Nevada for a few months and then off to Milwaukee, Wisconsin. After that you'll have to visit me in Florence, Italy. I hope you do come while I'm here though.

Raphael- Hot Babe Thanks to his Mother

One of the reasons Raphael was so cheerful and love clearly burst out of him, was because his parents loved him. His father did everything he could to encourage his son as an artist and when he took the boy away from his mother to be taught by professional painters it is written that she wept tenderly. It's not to say that he was a mollycoddler but he loved his parents and this allowed him to more freely express his love to the ladies. Which he did by painting them so erotically, by signing his name on their arm bands by painting their eyes as a reflection of his own gaze upon them. I look at La Velata and it is as if she is looking into me, she is inviting me to look into her. He was sexy and talented and he didn't even have to have a dark hidden and horrible childhood to escape. I'm still more attracted to Carravaggio- but that could have somethign to do with the person from whom I took that course.

Raphael ~ La Fornarina, School of Athens

Picasso's image of Raphael and La Fornarina (Margherita Luti being the star of both La Fornarina and this week's La Velata) that I posted on Saturday has lingered in my memory. And it wasn't the shoes although I do have a shoe fetish. It was seeing Michelangelo peeking out from under the bed. What made Picasso put the Great One's image in his etching? We could conjecture on that all day. I do remember from my reading about these two greats, Raphael and Michelangelo, that Michelangelo disliked and distrusted Raphael. He saw a man, eight years younger than he, take on Rome and win over the favor of the Pope. There he, the great Michelangelo, was on his back in the dark and dank Sistine Chapel doing frescos when he'd rather be creating sculpture. Raphael, Mr. Suave and Debonair on the other hand, was over painting the Stanze, warm and able to mingle. And he obviously was using his creations ... Raphael hadn't always painted in this new and wonderful way that so enchanted the Pope – the audacity of this newcomer.

Of course, Michelangelo didn't like or trust many people. High on the list of people he didn't like was not only Raphael but also Leonardo. While Michelangelo was busy dealing with his paranoid thoughts, Raphael continued with his affable lifestyle and even paid Michelangelo homage by painting him into his School of Athens. That fellow on the steps, the one with the beard and holding his head in his hand, was not in the original drawing but was added after Raphael was allowed to see Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel prior to its completion. Whatever else you can say about Raphael, he was definitely a social creature. So social that I'm convinced if there had been a Facebook and computers when he lived, he would have had his iPhone with him at all times and would have been using the Facebook application. At least two other people agree with me.

This first link is to a selection of Raphael's friends on Facebook. It's the least elaborate of the two I'm linking to on this post. I'm thinking this was Raphael's first attempt at Facebook. The second one up is to the Notes section of a Raphael Facebook page where Raphael is very forthcoming. In this case, the creator has put together four translations of a reputable biography of Raphael -- in Arabic, Italian, French and English (English is at the very bottom). Raphael, I'm certain, is looking down with approval. He's probably politicking to have Facebook added to the applications available in Heaven. We'll all have to wait and see.

Most Beautiful Raphael

My personal favorite of all Raphael's beauties is the Sistine Madonna. The Virgin in this case is both confident and hesitant, it is biological- she's not the strongest but she's the most beautiful.
Christ, who often looks so strange in Renaissance painting, looks like a real child for a change. The way she clutches him as her veils fly behind her and she walks on clouds, you can tell she's not looking forward to what is to come.