
I'll come back to this later, because I like what it says about art in this month's 'How To' edition of Atlanta Magazine.
Earlier this week Erin over at Design for Mankind (one of my favorite reads; she does all the leg work and all I have to do is kick back and enjoy) posted about a first for her; discovering a piece of art that brought tears to her eyes. This has to be speaking volumes for someone who spends her day looking at art in all its many forms.

This photo by artist Angela West (a fellow Atlantan, via her hometown of Dahlonega) is, at least up to this point in my life, that one piece for me. Angela is represented by Jackson Fine Art, where my friend Linda and I spent a good bit of our lunch hour one day a couple of years ago. Linda has been collecting photography for years, and Anna Walker Skillman, Owner and Executive Director of Jackson, has helped her build a really fantastic collection. We walked around the gallery that day, absorbing the latest exhibit and eyeing one of Linda's new acquisitions, when I turned the corner into the front room and found myself face to face with this piece. It moved me in that one instant and I really had to fight back the tears, especially when Anna came over and explained the subject matter to me.
The image, Gracie #1, is part of a series called "My Father" Angela shot in 2002 and featuring her father involved in various daily tasks at their home in Dahlonega. This particular shot was taken when their cat, Gracie, was dying, and her father was there to comfort her in the process. When we went to the gallery that day, it hadn't been too long since my Mother had passed away. I don't know if I would have been so attracted to this if she'd still been alive; honestly, probably not, but in that moment so many of its elements reminded me of her, a woman who'd grown up in a small town much like Dahlonega. I saw the country bedroom of a house in a little town in Georgia, complete with chenille bedspread, the doilie pillows, porcelain plates on the wall and simple valence curtain over the window; it was all so familiar. And then there's Gracie curled up there, just as my Mother laid in her bed in those final days before she passed. I certainly know she would have thought I was crazy that day, becoming tearful over and remembering some little piece of her in a photo depicting a dying cat. But, that's kind of the point, as there's so much more there than what is obvious. This one picture there on the wall of the gallery, taken by someone I had never met and didn't know, had somehow captured the essence of a very personal experience for me. And that, is the art of emotion.
In this little blurb in Atlanta Magazine Annette Cone-Skelton, cofounder, president, and CEO of the Museum of Contemporary Art of Georgia says:
"No one expects you to come in an expert." She suggests approaching art with less chatter and more attention. "Art can talk about social issues, our times. It can be enriching. It can cause you to think," she says. "Be quiet with it and let the art speak to you. Let yourself experience it. Drop your preconceived notions." Get introspective. What does this art say to you? Are you scared, angry, bored, amused? Ask yourself why you're reacting this way. Be really honest. Now you're ready to talk, and the best way isn't to make erudite statements about form or color theory. "Ask questions," she suggests. "Turn to the person next to you and ask them what their response is."
'Be quiet with it and let the art speak to you.' I like that! And even though in our quietness none of the conversations we'll each have with art will ever be the same, that's okay. It's what makes us different. And though I think I've mentioned more than one weepy episode recently, I'd like to think it's a reflection of me growing older and wiser and entrenching myself even further into the human experience, and feeling more of what I couldn't have recognized twenty years ago (at least that sounds a lot more elegant than the alternative!). So, Erin, let those tears flow, as it's just you and that piece of art communicating what words fail to express (and I'll keep crying over everything else!). ☺
[images © Atlanta Magazine and Angela West]
Labels: Art, Photography