“Some forms of success are indistinguishable from panic.” — Edgar Degas
Santa Knows heroes are chosen for both knowing great truths and giving great gifts to the world. In terms of knowledge, Albert Einstein is unmatched. He allowed us to understand the nature of reality on a new level, and his genius opened a portal to a new universe. Like great artists, great scientists stand on the shoulders of those who came before them. Astonishing advancements in science and technology today, benefiting us all, rest squarely on the shoulders of Einstein Santa.
Recent political realities have made me think a lot about good and evil. Is there an actual, universal, apolitical, areligious line is the sand? THE line. Item A is evil, and item B is on the other side of the line — on the good side of the boundary. My artist’s eye conjures up a fixed line in space, extending like a ribbon of highway for miles and miles. On one side is this creepy guy, angry and screaming across the border. On the other side …. a baby.
We all want that line the be clear and universal. It should be, right? For instance, it’s clear to see that murder is wrong. Yet when a CEO’s leadership deprives countless people of life and health, the conversation takes on a few more layers. And other recent news: one side says the debt ceiling is always good, the other side says it’s always bad, for years it’s been that way. Suddenly let’s all to switch sides to now-bad, now-good.
I just read a fantastic essay by David Brooks in today’s NYT. The Shock of Faith: It’s Nothing Like I Thought it Would Be. The way he moves through the material to explore his experiences of faith, and how they shaped his views really resonates. He makes a solid case for the existence of that line in the sand. There is actual good; there is actual evil; and it is possible to know the difference.
So I decided to accept his argument and see how how this foundation reshapes the Unseen Architecture of my universe. (It’s a chilly Sunday morning. Why not jump down the Unseen Architecture rabbit hole.)
So … for actual good, and actual evil to exist, there has to be a recognition of the difference. There has to be awareness. For me, and I concede this is a great leap, for me this awareness is consciousness — the unified field. And the soul is an individualized expression of the whole — a drop of water individualized from the ocean.
I confess to being one of those folks who believes in the soul — the individualized piece of consciousness that lives in all of us. Perhaps in all living creatures. Perhaps in all matter, living or otherwise.
Does all matter have consciousness? Why does the carbon molecule in me get to have a soul, but the carbon in a piece of paper does not? Perhaps the question is not ‘does all matter have consciousness’, because that frames the question in a way that restricts the consideration set. The real question is this: ‘what is the nature of matter, and what is the nature of consciousness’ — moving us beyond the limitations of a binary question. A possible truth: one does not contain or not contain the other — they are the same entity. Matter is Consciousness.
Again, from the artist’s eye, the universe is an oceanic field of awareness. It neither contains, nor is devoid of matter — consciousness and matter are the same thing. If matter composes the universe, then what about dark matter. Maybe this is just the yin and the yang of reality. In this imagining, dark matter would be the opposite of consciousness. And it would inhabit the other side of the line: consciousness and non-consciousness, matter and dark matter, good and evil.
In all of this imagining about the nature of reality, my artist’s eye always brings me back to shapes, specifically the line. The final delineation between yes and no, the object and the empty space. Over the years I’ve tried to express these ideas in layers of shapes. There is great joy in creating art to express the ordering principle of my world view, a visual demonstration that the world makes sense. Even trying to wrap all the mysteries up in a pretty picture completes me, but probably ONLY me. Given reactions from viewers over time, my attempts are falling short. As one friend put it, “I think I understand what you are saying, but when I look at this, what I see is plaid.”
The Santa myth has always delighted me. But it wasn’t the jolly-old-guy-with-presents-for-all part that intrigued me the most - it was his omniscience. Santa Knows. And it is both the giving and the knowing that have inspired my choice of Santa Knows heroes. Steve Jobs died in October 2011. Knowing what an Apple fan I am, friends immediately said, “I know who your Santa Knows will be this year.”
Third in the group is a completely made up Santa. Perhaps surprisingly, that’s not an easy thing to do. As a classically trained painter, I render a subject from direct observation. In other words, I’m trained to paint what I see. This fellow was created to express kindness and peace. So I went deep inside my imagination to find a face to convey that. Curiously, the subject stayed within the limits of the traditional Santa stereotype - an older, white male. Conformity is not necessarily my approach. But there could be another force at play: my father died decades ago, and I think those might be his eyes.
This was Santa Knows year 2. My (departed) friend Ken Penuel modeled for what we thought was a funny idea — a creepy Santa. Actually I still think it’s funny but a lot of people were offended. At the time I was bothered by that. But now I’m like ‘lighten up you grumpy people!’ One of the great things about getting older: perspective.
For almost two decades I’ve painted a Santa to share with friends at Christmas … not every year, but probably around fifteen total. I do have a new one this year.
2006 marked the beginning of a Christmas tradition for Studio C Shute — Santa Knows. I’d been working in the DC market for nearly three years, and wanted to send clients an artistic card for the holiday. After a disappointing search among commercial products, I did what artists do: I made my own. The card needed a theme, something stretching the boundaries of tradition. And it needed to feature portraits. The jolly old man’s omniscience won the day, and Santa Knows was born. A friend modeled for the first card, rendered in ink and oil paint on paper. Subsequent Santas were more elaborate, but for me this first one captures a Knowing Santa as well as any of the later subjects.
Since we’ve been remodeling the Lockhart house for the past couple of months, it hasn’t been possible to paint. But I have managed to do a few charcoal drawings. Here is crazy little Chani … forever brat.
It was a bit over seven years ago when I bought Gracie — a mill house in a forgotten village named Lockhart, population 617. Deep in rural South Carolina, Lockhart is located in the way-outer bands of both the Charlotte and Greenville-Spartanburg metros. At the time I was banking on these cities to continue growing like crazy and gobbling up all the land in concentric circles around them — eventually reaching little Lockhart with exurbanites hungry for affordable real estate and quiet streets. Although progress has been slower than estimated, it still looks like a pretty good bet.
In addition to bringing the cottage back to life, I brought quite a few paintings into the world. Isolated as I was, there wasn’t much else to do. Not counting scribbles and false starts, the number is somewhere around fifty four. In addition to research and retail projects here and there, painting essentially sustained Gracie and me over this time … including a couple of nail-biting pandemic years. As a life in art goes, that performance is an acceptable minimum. Ok, ‘acceptable minimum’ is less than spectacular, but it does mean I get to keep making art.
Here’s Gracie February 2017 and May 2024. Although there is still plenty of work to do, she looks a lot better now. The same is true for Lockhart.
Gracie 2017 and 2024
Although my paintings have a range of styles and content, I am essentially a portrait painter. As a natural extension of public opinion research (my first act) portrait painting is digging deep into the essence of the subject. For me, it’s impossible to render a powerful portrait without connecting with the subject on the level of consciousness. As my teacher Ben Long said, “if you study your subject and don’t feel awe, then don’t even try to paint them; put the canvas away.”
Oddly, this necessity is required for real, and even made-up subjects. There has to be a bedrock connection, a negotiation of sorts with the idea so that its identity can ultimately be sensed by the viewer. The painting ‘negotiation’ is easy: does this mark move us closer to or further away from the feeling of the subject? And all along the way, the portrait painter is feeling the subject’s soul … actually dancing around with that singular, individualized consciousness, and accumulating individualized marks to tell the story.
“The Game” is a painting I had been pondering for quite a while. The biggest uncertainty was around what it would feel like to actually paint this guy. Finally, a few months ago I painted the portrait with a swirly, fiery background. But I knew it wasn’t finished. The painting represented the man, in his famous Mug Shot persona, but it lacked something essential … it lacked layers and layers of post truth movement. It lacked the fluidity of actions and reactions, spinning around infinitely, drawing us in as the energy keeps pulsing. His portrait makes sense only within the context of his game. Without the Game — without the ever-amplified movement it stirs — it’s just a painting of an angry old guy with weird hair.
Having painted the persona and attempted the game, I can tell you this: the Portrait-Painting-Trump enterprise is one interesting journey! signed: a happy old gal with weird hair
Just finished embellishing this antique frame for an upcoming portrait. Thought I’d use a landscape sketch as placeholder in the meantime.
In late summer 2017, up in the mountains of north Georgia, I was right in the path of the lunar eclipse. It was my first time with the experience, and as a lover of all things space, decided to do a painting of the event. I set up the easel outside and did three quick oil sketches. In this one the sun was completely covered, but you could still see faint light in the clouds.
Totality 2017 north Georgia, oil on paper
If it’s true that every picture tells a story, then it is many times true for this one. For now I’m calling it Mockingbird Lily Lily Rose. Lots of work left to do on this one …..
Mockingbird Lily Lily Rose, in progress 5 April 2024. Cherry Street studio, Jacksonville
About 20 or so years ago I started painting. That was squarely in the Post Modern era, and as a painter of realism I was out of step with the abstract thrust of the period. Many art scholars have begun to describe these interesting times as the Post Truth era, and as such, a focus in realism has resurfaced. The term Post Truth has lots of complexity, but I tend to think of it as this: people used to have their own opinions … now people also have their own facts.
When I started work on Queen Santa almost a year ago I was processing the composition as Post Truth Realism. But I really had no idea how the forces of our era would inform my work. Having always been interested in layers of meaning, the core idea was to render the work with layers of reality … interlocking, interrelated, incongruous yet somehow holding together as a unified whole. When I tried it in the past, the scholars and masters with whom I studied said this was a uniquely bad idea. Guess we will see how it works out.
In this piece, the Queen is rendered with exaggerated color in an energetic style, based on an official photo from her later years. She resides in a golden space, the spirit world. She is contained within the materialism of the Stewart plaid border, and also rises above it as she did in life. Her beloved Corgi, expressing her accessible, playful side is rendered in an anime style, existing in both the spirit and material layers. Consistent with the Santa Knows series construct, we have a Santa hat … but it seemed more respectful to put it on the dog instead of the Queen. The royal medals, of course, are painted realistically and inhabit only the material plane. The artist signature, lower right, is the Cloud Atlas comet I’ve been using for a few years now.
So here she is …. last year’s Santa. After the Thanksgiving holiday, I’ll start on Santa Knows 2023. ‘Good Lord willing and the Creeks don’t rise’, it will be ready by Christmas of This year!
Having a fabulous day in the studio-kitchen working on the design for this year’s Santa. It’s top secret of course. Ok, it’s the Queen. But anybody can figure that part out. The real thing is the design, and I think this is my best ever.
So anyway, I’m working away with my new main man, Simon. How this guy came to be a homeless village cat in Lockhart, South Carolina is beyond me. He is One Cool Customer. Our little Chani is also impressed, but chooses to express her admiration through an endless series of surprise attacks, comically reminiscent of Pink Panther’s Kato. Here’s one I managed to capture just now under the drawing table.
….. will keep you posted on Santa Knows ….
I’m always a bit lost after finishing a painting. The only remedy is to start another one. So THAT is happening today but I can’t talk about it because (the subject) is Top Secret (until after the event) (which is stressfully soon). I’m excited about the project already, and the BIG REVEAL aspect is turning the whole business into performance art! What Joy!
You know how they tell you to leave a notebook beside the bed to help remember your dreams? Well I do that, and often wake to find a note or a drawing with no recollection of creating it. So here is one of those messages:
The joy energy of painting will be codified into the work & experienced as attraction by the viewer.
Hmmmm. I can do that. Enough coffee … let’s get this show on the road!
Here’s the final version of Garden … well, let’s use the word ‘final’ expansively …. safe to say I’ve signed it and I’m putting it away for now.
preliminary photo …. and I’m bound to fiddle with it tomorrow morning … but it’s done. It’s done.
Today, a Sunday as it turns out, I will finish Garden, a painting started (conceptually) about seven years ago. It’s lived with me in seven different studios, and we’ve covered lots of miles. Now mind you, I haven’t worked everyday all day. In fact, years at a time have past without a single brush stroke. But never without attention — never without constant processing of the overarching Eden myth, and applying it to these times, and most of all watching it rework its magic on me as we coevolved.
… but here I am waxing philosophical when I should be finishing the last of the detail work on the hands and apple.
Every apple
is an angel with wings
a moment of choice
and a home on the precipice
of pure potential
Sometimes when I take too long to finish a painting the core idea manages to drift … probably because it wasn’t that well-anchored in the first place. Sweet Chariot is one such project. The original concept was a fuzzy version of geometric wheels on the wallpaper background, a foreground horse in profile … an interesting portrait, aspiring at best to Beauty. Then the wheels of life turned, and the painting took on the emotion of its time. The idealized horse image, no one in particular, individualized day by day into the bearer of our deep, deep pain, ultimately taking the name Elijah. The wheels started spinning a tapestry of life and art — of anguish and hope — of mythological heroes and villains — of cycles within cycles.
Lordy I miss those days of painting without pain.
There’s a tiny bit more to do on Sweet Chariot, but I won’t be able to get back to it for a few days, and I’m just itching to give birth, albeit a premature one. I’ll surely let you know when it is finished and signed.
