A Veil of Tears
by Robert Genn

Yesterday, Linda Flaherty of Fort Dodge, Iowa, wrote, "Recently, I found myself weeping before a self-portrait I was working on. Suddenly it was as if I actually saw myself. It was like looking at a portrait of someone I knew who no longer existed. I told no one about my crying. Is this a common experience? I've felt exaltation, disgust, delight, comfort, and all kinds of other emotions, but this was a first. What was happening?"

Thanks, Linda. I too have cried during portraits, self and otherwise, and not just because my work was lousy. Unexplainable outbursts are often from a flood of generalized emotion--perhaps about something going on in your life--that may have been building and suddenly finds release. Or it may be, as you say, a connection with someone who has aged, changed, or even passed on. In portrait work it can certainly happen when the likeness suddenly pops through and recognition occurs. I call this one "internal emotional applause." It's a very fine feeling, and maybe it's inexcusable.

Through all my bawling experiences I've separated tears of joy from tears of sadness. Joy being the more frequent, the tearful event sometimes happens outdoors when conditions are near perfect and the work is going somewhat well. One is overcome by feelings of blessed disbelief. "How come it is me who is getting away with this?"

Most deadly is the combination of painting and music. I've flicked tears during Stravinsky's Danse Russe, Vivaldi's Four Seasons and most recently Una furtiva lagrima from The Elixir of Love by Gaetano Donizetti as sung by Luciano Pavarotti. We've put the video at the top of the current clickback so you can test your own ducts.

Some folks never cry. Some others, perhaps the hypersensitive or even the depressed, cry at the drop of a brush. For those who can cry, I say, be proud. Humanity is in your tears.

Recently, someone asked what might be the most important words that an artist needs to know. My answer was based on what I think are the most important words everyone should know. They are love, joy, desire, empathy, kindness and excitement. Tears come to your eyes with the manifestation of those words, and artists stand a good chance of getting more than their fair share.

Best regards,

Robert

PS: "No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader." (Robert Frost)

Esoterica: I had tears last weekend in Canada's National Gallery. I was by myself in the room where the Group of Seven sketches are exhibited en mass behind glass. I always return to that room when in Ottawa. It's like looking up old friends. Curiously, some of those sketches always seem better than the last time, and some others don't seem as fine as I remembered. This recognition and its incumbent pathos trigger a sense of brotherhood and sisterhood, an understanding of my own shortcomings as well as a feeling of profound aloneness. Of the gentlemen exhibited there, only their strokes remain, and somehow, after all these years, those strokes draw tears.

Robert Genn has given ARTAZINE permission to post his biweekly newsletter. For more artistic insight, visit his site at www.painterspost.com