I've discovered painting restoration videos on youtube. They're so soothing and fascinating. I suspect many people would see them as dull
as watching fishing (which I also like), but I don't smoke pot, so you know,
calming, ohhhmmm. Fewer calories than
chocolate.
I know art in a photo or video isn't the same as seeing it
in person. On the other hand, extreme
close-ups of intricate details of Queen Elizabeth's dress isn't something I'll probably get to see in real life. How
was the lace painted? Look at those
pearls! See the shadows on the
embroidery stitches! That's info I can
use in my own work in the future.
Restoration is often a war on abuse. One video showed a painting that had been
ripped when it fell into a chair.
Nooooo!!! Maybe you non-art
types can't understand how seeing that damage could make me cry, but some of
you can relate. It's like seeing
starving children and abused puppy commercials on tv. Okay, maybe some of you don't care about that either. There's no hope for some people.
The invalid painting is lovingly placed on the table for
pre-op. Nails are removed, dirt
scrubbed off, yellowed varnish stripped away, holes patched, edges reinforced,
old retouching removed... I'm sure all of this is tedious beyond belief and
keeps cotton swab companies in business.
I keep thinking the restoration sometimes takes more work than creating
the painting in the first place.
Eventually, the restorer gently dabs on new paint on the injured parts
(the part I wish I could do) and a new coat of varnish seals it up for the next
100 years.
Proud before and after photos play at the end of the video, often
with emotional music. The baby has been
saved! Let's all rejoice together! Onto the next abusive disaster.
There's something wonderful and lovely to think someone
might like my paintings well enough to take care of them after I'm gone. It makes me happy to look at my great aunt's
art hanging in my computer room. I hope
someone else treasures it after me.
I saw multiple people messing with their phones while
driving this week. Nothing they were
doing was important enough to put my life at risk. They crossed center lines on the road but probably thought they
were driving fine. Everything these
days is aimed at the trivial and immediate.
I think everyone would be better off if they slowed down and thought
about what will be important in 100 years.
Think of Queen Elizabeth.
She had small pox as a child and used lead makeup for the rest of her
life to cover the scars. Once a week
she cleaned it off with mercury. I'm
sure this seemed real important at the time, but it slowly killed her and made
her look worse. Her skin turned gray
and her hair fell out. Who knows what
it did to her brain cells.
My advice? Don't
text and drive. Watch paint dry. Take life slower and don't worry about how
many people "like" you at this particular minute. If you want to join me in watching painting
restorations, try this one by Julian Baumgartner. I find it fascinating that he could rescue a painting on paper
that was mounted on wood.
The art above is a detail from one of my recent I Spy
paintings. You can see I have monkeys in it but no foxes because Illustration Friday thinks the F is for Mondays lately. Maybe I'll give you a fox next week if this pattern continues.
Well, you can bet I watched that video. The video was well done, and yes, the work - so tedious. But how satisfying! Rather like your I Spy paintings? I notice the diagram for driving a manual transmission. Maybe if more people drove sticks, there'd by less distracted drivers?
ReplyDeleteI guess my I Spy paintings might give you a clue that I like tedious? :D I noticed another idiot texting today. You make a good point about manual transmissions. Now I'm going to try to notice if any of the texters drive sticks.
ReplyDeleteAll good advice, whether not text and drive or slow down in general. Still I think watching restoration of paintings might be for the special interests. :-)
ReplyDeleteWhat if they were restoring photos Otto? I bet there's videos of that too :)
ReplyDelete