In a previous blog post on Influence and Originality, I mentioned that “To be influenced is to engage so deeply with a piece, with a work of art, that it becomes part of you, infecting your point of view, challenging values or just becoming a catalyst for opening yourself to greater experiences.” This idea has always been fascinating to me, and something I revisit often – [see Edvard Munch & Me, Francis Bacon & Me,  etc…].  I love these remarkable connections, unintentional resemblances, and striking references. 

 

 

Woman With Dead Child

by Käthe Kollwitz

 

 

 

The Three Shades

by Rodin

 

 

 

 

The Expulsion Of Adam And Eve From Eden

by Masaccio

 

 

 

 

The Kiss 

by Gustav Klimt

 

 

 

 

 

The Scream

by Munch

 

 

 

 

Old Guitarist

by Picasso

 

 

 

 

 

Standing Male Nude

by Egon Schiele

 

 

 

 

 

Henry Moore Sculpture

 

 

 

 

Untitled #08-13-21-567

When I recently photographed the image shown above, Untitled #08-13-21-567, I immediately responded to it with the same excitement and enthusiasm that I do when one of these connections emerges in my work. This time, however, I couldn’t quite place my finger on what the figure, or the form, or the gesture resembled. I racked my brain, and finally decided to put the question out on social media to see if I could get some insight as to where I had seen this before…

The responses were wonderful! I was thrilled with so many of the immediate suggestions people were sharing, and had to compile only a few of my favorites here. From Käthe Kollwitz and Edvard Munch, to Francis Bacon and Pablo Picasso, and even Rodin sculpture. I found them all to be relevant and incredibly exciting! Click on the buttons above to see the images of other artwork next to this latest image 🙂

As I have discussed before, these marvelous associations illustrate not only connections to other works of art, but to what Jung referred to as archetypes – the themes, forms, or expressions that are universal to mankind and resonate in various cultures throughout time. They emerge as the result of a long, intuitive process, where experiencing the work of other artists gives form to previously undefined feelings and thoughts.

Every generation reinterprets and redefines these archetypes in the language of their time to keep them relevant and true to their world. Our continued understanding of them is vital to our understanding of ourselves and one another, as they bear truths that lie at the heart of our humanity. They are the myths that enable us to contemplate our complicated existence, the challenges and consequences of consciousness. 

It’s been a while since the last blog post, but interacting with the community over social media and sharing here is incredibly exciting. I’d love to keep this momentum going and continue to hear your thoughts and feedback!

——

There are many, many artists that I have been interested in, several artists that I admire but only a couple that have penetrated my psyche and become as much a part of me as my DNA.  Munch is one of those.

I was reminded of the first time I encountered Munch’s artwork at the age of 17, at the library in art school. Holding this book of Munch’s work, I realized that I was not alone. The emotional force in his paintings connected with me intimately, directly, and intensely. At this vulnerable age, I was sure I was utterly alone in my despair but Munch revealed to me that was not true. His paintings were screaming my feelings, articulating my fears and connecting to my isolation. From Munch, I connected to heavy overwhelming depression, the energy of anxiety, fear of death, loneliness and confusion of spirituality. Munch knew his work could have these powerful effects.  “Many believe that a picture is finished when they have understood what terms the world and I are on — ergo, a kind of egoism. Yet at the same time I have always thought and felt that my art might also help others understand their search for sanity.” (excerpt from Private Journals of Edvard Munch)


Scream, 1893

Untitled #3912, 1991

To be influenced is to engage so deeply with a piece, with a work of art, that it becomes part of you, infecting your point of view, challenging values, searching for understanding or sanity or just becoming a catalyst for opening yourself to greater experiences. It is an undeniable fact that Munch influenced my work and it is not merely an accident that my work often refers to his artwork.  I have spent my entire life looking at books of art, traipsing through museums but when I find an artist that brings me to my knees in the way Munch’s work does, I embrace it.  Love it.  Consume it.  It becomes a part of me.  Tucked away in my subconscious, Munch’s work has continued to be a part of me, incorporated for decades into my psyche. Jeanette Winterson expressed this perfectly when she stated, “True art, when it happens to us, challenges the ‘I’ that we are.” (Art Objects: Essays on Ecstasy and Effrontery, Vintage, 1996)


Vision, 1892

Untitled #3725, 1991

There is no doubt that I have been changed by my relationship with Munch’s artwork and my debt to Munch is as undeniable as is my admiration. 


Madonna, 1894

Untitled #9-27-11-57, 2011

Recently I started looking more directly at Munch’s work in connection with my own and I was truly amazed that the correlations were, at times, direct. Sometimes it is the color palette, the graphic relations or gestures, and, perhaps the most important is the psychological connections.


The Escape, 1886

Untitled #3912, 1991


The Woman at the Urn, 1863

Untitled #5-1-17-819, 2017


Evening Melancholy, 1891

Untitled #3874, 1991


Golgotha, 1900

Untitled #8586, 2000

After my last post “the Agony and Ecstasy of Chaos,” I started thinking more about DAYDREAMS.

Let’s just take a moment here – did you daydream in class, or actually, anywhere? I was always criticized for it – on report cards, and in class. “If only she would pay attention…” was the mantra that followed me from grade school through high school. As I described in my last post, I would spend much of my class time tilting […my head this way and that, trying to line up the cross bars of the window with trees, poles, or buildings outside, until the alignment of the two would make crosses, or parallel lines, or even new shapes.] Little did my teachers know that these seeming lapses was actually the start of my career as an artist!

Untitled #03-15-19-192

Now, I believe that daydreaming is a wonderful and healthy thing to do. It also feels quite good! Letting the mind wander – making connections and putting things together. In our crazy and manic world, we don’t have much time for daydreaming between checking our phones, messages and emails, UNLESS we happen to be lucky enough to be an artist.

When I am looking though the lens, completely present to my seeing, it feels as delicious and wonderful as a daydream. The important piece here is that I am FOLLOWING (NOT guiding) my eyes. In daydreams we allow our minds to wander this way and that without CONTROLLING our thoughts. It is different than the crazy monkey brain that jumps all around distracting us, but rather a pleasant process that leads us . When I am photographing, and truly following my eyes, I am, as in daydreams, not controlling where I am going. At this point I am discovering – trying different relationships between forms, lines, shapes, tones, colors, etc. “WHAT HAPPENS IF….”
These connections may SOUND absurd when I THINK about them, but these visuals may lead to metaphoric seeing.

Untitled 04-19-19-880

This latest work, 2019, illustrates my love and even passion for putting lines and shapes together in “nonsensical” or playful ways. I love lines intersecting, crossing, and following other lines. Currently I am working with two models, one very tall, and the other quite a bit shorter which creates an interesting visual relationship. Above, in Untitled #04-19-19-880, a leg (red light) and an arm (natural light) are combining in a way that makes no reasonable sense but creates a visually fluid dance.

Untitled #06-06-16-598

In 2016, exploring how using different shapes of broken (plastic) mirrors could reshape or reform the figure, I discovered they could also define or exaggerate gestures as in Untitled #06-06-16-598, above.

The New York Times discussed this idea of daydreaming, though they called it doing nothing in this April 29, 2019 article:
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/04/29/smarter-living/the-case-for-doing-nothing.html

???
Why does this approach lead to metaphorical seeing?
Excellent question……

I will attempt to answer that in a future post –
“The eyes are the scout of the heart” Joseph Campbell

(Any hyperbole you find in this post may be credited to my growing passion for opera…)

Nothing pleases me more than when two distinct lines come together in a surprising way.  They could touch, cross, form a point or run parallel. Actually,  I am also quite pleased when shapes do the same thing – combine to create an entirely new shape.

Putting graphic elements together is extremely satisfying for me.  I don’t know why – but it is not new. As a kid, as I would stare out the window – daydreaming (perhaps that is why my report cards regularly said, “if only she would pay attention in class…”.) I would tilt my head this way and that, trying to line up the cross bars of the window with trees, poles, or buildings outside, until the alignment of the two would make crosses, or parallel lines, or even new shapes. 

Untitled #01-14-19-88, 2019
Untitled #01-14-19-88, 2019

After indulging in this quirky pleasure for 60+ years, I have gotten quite good at it.  Actually, I have made a career out of it.  My work has always utilized this “gift” (?) starting with putting layers of reflections together. My LATEST work takes this even farther.  Let me tell you how this goes in a typical shoot…

I have a large mirror held upright in my studio.  I tape some shards to it creating a graphic mess.  Then I put one model in front and another behind the mirror. This is the start. After fussing with lights for a bit I confront the chaotic mess – a jumble of lines, and fleshy shapes. At this point I often get irritated with myself – why do I put myself through this?  The pressure is to find some interesting relationships within this mess. This self-abuse and “monkey mind” go on for the first minutes, sometimes longer other times shorter.  It stops when I begin to see something – and my explorer self takes over. It is a very slow process organizing this visual chaos – luckily, I love doing it… once I stop the self-talk and just get into looking at the forms.

Why does this work?

Well, for one thing it gives me a different framework to begin exploring shapes.  I’ve been photographing the human form for so many years, in order to continue the challenge of seeing it in a new way I put up different mirror shards, redefining the familiar shapes.

As Gary Zukav writes in the Dancing WuLi Masters:

“True artists and true physicists know that nonsense is only that which, viewed from our present point of view, is unintelligible. Nonsense is only nonsense when we have not yet found that point of view from which it makes sense.”

Untitled #02-15-19-552
Untitled #02-15-19-552

When he says “the point of view” he is talking directly to us photographers.  Point of view is CAMERA ANGLE! The importance of exploring (or playing) cannot be overstated – it is the foundation of seeing in new and unexpected ways. This is particularly evident when working with reflections in the mirror shards, as the transformation from even the slightest shift in camera angle can be drastic.

This blog post can be summed up neatly and poetically by Nietzsche:

“One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.”

Since I started shooting in color in 2007, after many years as a devote black and white photographer, I have been learning about color and its affect on the “read” of the image. Once I found RED, however, it changed my life. [If you feel I am prone to exaggeration I credit it to my growing passion for opera.] RED conjures passion, depression, elation, energy, viscera, and the most powerful of all emotions – love. Remarkably, it can be both attractive and repulsive – sometimes at the same time.

Recently I invited two very dear and close friends to see my new work in my studio. I have shared my work with them periodically for many years, so they are quite familiar with my images. These are a few of what we looked at:

Untitled # 10-19-18-734
Untitled# 11-30-18-1063
Untitled #11-30-18-854, 2018

Untitled #11-30-18-854

In just a couple of minutes one said that she saw them as pornographic and the other quickly agreed. After I regained my composure, this led to a fascinating conversation. To me these images are not overtly or even covertly sexual [well, maybe a TAD seductive] but this was a reaction I felt I needed to pay attention to. As I have said many times I do not work with an idea or an image in mind but prefer to rely on my intuition. When I am shooting I am exploring the subject in front of me by studying the forms – lines, shapes and tones. I don’t intend for the images to have a specific meaning but rather I see them as open to interpretation by the individual viewer.

I determined that three common ingredients had to be present in the images for them to be considered pornographic to my friends; 1. a face 2. a breast 3. the color RED. 1. The face identifies the figure as an individual as opposed to an anonymous model, opening the doors for a sense of vulnerability. 2. Since a breast is something that is usually hidden, seeing one adds to the idea of a person exposed. 3. But the RED is the essential ingredient in these particular images to evoke those strong feelings.

The different uses of RED-

A little about RED – RED, a primary color (along with green and blue,) symbolized nobility and wealth during the Renaissance; became the color of revolution in Russia, China and Vietnam; and is often used in flags to illustrate power. Because it is the color of blood it is also associated with bravery, sacrifice, and danger. It conjures feelings of passion, anger, love, joy and sexuality [my friends’ reactions.]

Untitled #01-07-19-679

Without a face, as in 01-07-19-679, the sense of vulnerability is lost, but the RED empowers the form with a life force.

Untitled #4-24-12-012
Untitled #4-24-12-01

As I see it, a sense of depression is elicited in Untitled #4-24-12-012, as the RED hand reaches up from hell to pull the psyche down. (Obviously you may have different reaction, but if you see this as pornographic I might suggest medication and/or therapy).

Untitled #09-04-13-287
Untitled #09-04-13-287


Untitled #09-04-13-287 is Oedipus, the tragic Greek figure, who pokes out his eyes after killing his father and marrying his mother [the “Cliff Notes” version of the tale, if you want more detail click here for the Wikipedia version. /en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oedipus]

I would love to hear your thoughts and continue this discussion. Do you see the above images as pornographic? Yes? No? Controversy has been my life-long companion (not by choice) and I am no stranger to censorship, criticism and all the other stuff that goes along with being an artist, so please be honest…

Untitled #07-02-18-486, 2018

2 new strobes,

2 new models,

and lots more opera

Last year was another productive journey in the course of my work as I continued to integrate more abstract forms within the mirrors. Perhaps my biggest area of growth in 2018 was my use of lighting in the studio, in primarily two ways:

  1. I significantly upgraded the lighting system in my studio. The impetus for this change had to do with safety – during a shoot my studio is dark – really, really dark – lit only from the modeling lights on the strobes [which provide not much more light than what you would have in a darkroom.] I do this so extraneous elements don’t show up in the various reflected materials. As a result of working in essentially a cave, I would often trip over the legs of the light stands. Since this is a working, creative space I could splat on a multitude of things on the floor such as broken plastic mirrors, scissors, lenses, black crates, models, etc. So I invested in a rail system where the lights are hanging from the ceiling. The result is much, much safer, instead of tripping over the lights I now bang my head into them – a significant improvement! The unintended benefit is that it is so incredibly easy to move the lights up and down, and side to side that I have been much more playful – always a good thing.
  2. The second reason for my growth in my use of light is that I started working with a new model, J., who is from Jamaica and has beautiful dark, dark skin. My other new model, R, is a lovely and expressive young woman of Filipino descent.
Untitled # 08-20-18-899

J.’s skin appears metallic – almost granite like in texture- with brilliant highlights dropping off to shadow very quickly, while R.’s lighter skin has a broader tonal range from highlights to shadows.

Untitled # 07-02-18-486

I have not had a regular female model for several years, so combining her with J. in a purely formal way has been a new direction this year.

Untitled #11-05-18-1079, 2018
Untitled #11-05-18-1079

Sometimes, like in the above image, Untitled #08-20-18-899, I get to work with two models, but when I only have one, the mannequins I began working with in 2016 continue to serve as superb stand-ins.

OPERA
Another area of growth for me in 2018 was my continuing love of opera and frequenting more productions. Opera is full of extreme emotions – jealousy, unrequited love, a love triangle and/or death, murder, sickness. There is nothing subtle in an opera plot. [BTW opera fans are just as enthusiastic as football fans, and almost as vocal!]
It seems that my devotion to opera manifests itself as RED in my work.

Untitled # 11-30-18-894

RED – seductive, visceral, angry and passionate, crept back into my work toward the end of 2018. RED can be both joy and agony, and passionate and visceral. More about RED in a later blog.

Untitled # 10-19-18-734
Untitled # 12-10-18-238

As with the last handful of years, 2018 included a significant amount of time spent in the studio and shooting on a consistent, regular basis. 77 shoots total, finding myself behind the camera an average of at least once a week. I have loved being able to devote so much time to looking through the lens, seeing new and exciting forms emerge from the same materials I’ve worked with for over 30 years, and I’m looking forward to what develops in 2019!

As always, I look forward to your thoughts and feedback!

Untitled #11-21-17-412

Here are a couple of thoughts about 2017 and how to make sense of it. I am NOT going to expound about the state of the world and the hideous political situation we are in. Instead I am going to talk about a subject that I love – my photographs and how they have changed in the course of the year.

The year started off with a big bang which never let up! I shot more images in 2017 than ever before in my life. Of course, not dealing with film and processing makes a HUGE difference, but that is not all. As I look in the rearview mirror I see that not only am I over the hill,  but halfway down the other side!  Instead of slowing down however, I have sped up.

In 2017 I had 88 different shoots – which translates to 1.7 shoots a week for 52 weeks or .25 shoots a day for 365 days.

To show how my work has changed over the last year I have divided the year in two parts; pre and post my Vatican visit.

Pre-Vatican

Untitled #05-01-17-819
Untitled #05-01-17-819

Emphasizing the edges and scratched surface of  the mirror lends a shattered feel to my Pre-Vatican images such as in Untitled #05-01-17-819. A large triangular shard cuts into the frail, broken figure, making him appear thin and brittle. This shard, ending in a cracked point in his leg, implies fragility, uncertainty, pathos, and even hopelessness.

Post Vatican

The trip to Rome this fall had to include, of course, a chance to worship at the feet of one of the greatest geniuses of all time – Michelangelo. For more on my trip to the Vatican see Blog Post Want a lesson in how to ruin brilliance?

Michelangelo did not let me down. From despair to rapture, the expansive expression in his paintings at the Sistine Chapel,  stunningly depict the extremes of the human condition – and he did all of this within the framework of Christianity.  As a non–Christian it was easy for me to ignore the religious overtones and contemplate the momentous figures sculpted out of paint.

Back in my studio I studied the dark, grim figures on the wall.  I loved them (still do) but I wanted a shift – to what, I did not know. The shape of the mirrors has been my major concern for the last couple of years, which means emphasizing sharp edges, breaks, points and cracks. But with a minor change in focus I made a MAJOR shift in seeing!    I moved my focus from the surface and edge of the mirror to the figures. The mirrors are still defining the forms, but without the  cracks, scratches and marks on the surface I began to explore  lines and forms.   Ask anyone who has ever studied with me – I LOVE LINES AND FORMS!

Untitled #11-21-17-412
Untitled #11-21-17-412

 

Untitled #11-10-17-185
Untitled #11-10-17-185

Untitled #12-22-17-423

Without faces and heads the work becomes less psychological and more gestural reminding me of images I have made in the hot tub through the years.

 

Untitled #4442
Untitled #4442 1992

 

Untitled #11159
Untitled #11159 2006

 

When I started this journey in 1983 I had no idea that in 2018 I would still be on it. As I look back I don’t see  a straight path, but rather a spiral where I periodically come back to similar visual concerns.  The first time I explored the form of the body (eliminating the head and face) was in 1992, I picked up on it again 14 years later in 2006.  12 years later I am once again concerned with the forms and lines of the body but this time I am doing it, not in a hot tub, but in a studio with mirrors.

 

Visit the Sistine Chapel…..

I was in Rome recently and was anxious to revisit the Sistine Chapel. I had a “skip the line” tour (with Context Tours – excellent! I highly recommend them) so the wait was only about 30 minutes. The walk through the Vatican museums was wonderful but once we got even near the Sistine Chapel the mass of people started growing. By the time we entered the Chapel we were in a sea of people – stuffed! Elbow to elbow or in my case their elbow to my head. We could barely move – I am not exaggerating. I was so afraid of losing Patricia that we literally held onto each other. It was that close. Tring to elevate myself above the situation, I began staining my neck to view what I had been anticipating for so long. I was being drawn in to the paintings when a red plastic bag knocked into my face (it was empty so no harm done) but then the loud speaker came on admonishing us for talking because “THIS WAS A SACRED SPACE!” in several different languages, every 15 minutes. The circumstances were too much for me to overcome. I was moved along by the sea until I was out the other end, utterly exhausted and seriously disappointed.

I am not and have never been a fan of the Catholic Church but I found this experience to really show their colors. This chapel is truly a sacred space, with figures sculpted out of paint, the ceiling transformed by paint and most importantly infused with the complex extremes of the human condition – literally ecstasy to agony. But the experience is completely ruined because of greed – packing into the space as many people as could fit (like being crammed into a Japanese subways.) They could have taken a page from the Peruvians who severely limit the number of people that can visit Machu Picchu a day enabling the experience to be full and enriching. Besides which, it cannot be good for the paintings with all this carbon dioxide being pumped in the air by the sea of visitors.

It reminded me of a recent trip to Bejing and the Great Wall where the crowds walking on the wall were so dense you couldn’t see space between the people. The Great Wall, built in the 15th Century, was not designed to have thousands of people a day walking on it and the Sistine Chapel, built in the late 15th century, was not designed to be used as a commercial business.

Perhaps the real miracle of this experience is that, in spite of all this, I actually WAS deeply affected by the Sistine Chapel paintings! I didn’t realize it until I got back to my studio. Looking at my work with the recent experience with Michelangelo, I decided to make a radical change in my approach to shooting in the mirrors. It might be viewed by outsiders as an insignificant one – but to me it is monumental!

Ready for it?

Instead of focusing on the surface of the mirrors I am now starting to focus on the figures!

Mind-blowing!

More on this later….

As the exhibition at Y:ART approached, press and publicity was building and we seemed to be getting a lot of great media coverage. I was thrilled with so much of the attention we received in print, online, and even on public broadcast through MPT, all of which generated a lot of interest and attendance at the gallery. Perhaps the most thorough feature however came after the show had come off the walls…

When I was approached by Gabriella Souza of Baltimore Magazine, I expected an interview like most others, with all of the usual questions and answers. Gabriella’s approach, however, was anything but typical.

Gabriella was already familiar with my work before coming by for what would turn out to be only the initial studio visit. Her questions were not only in-depth, but had me thinking about my work and articulating my process to her in a way that only happens with people who have a genuine interest in the work and respond to it in very special, personal ways. Our conversations were instantly intriguing for both of us, and I looked forward to every one. Gabriella kept in touch throughout the process of organizing and arranging the exhibition, even visiting the gallery while we sequenced and hung the work. I loved sharing this part of the creative process with her while discussing the creation of the work itself.

I LOVE how the article came out!!!  Gabriella’s writing is wonderful, and I was very impressed with how she managed to weave so many different elements into one piece. I also love the layout- I think it is graphically well done, the font they used for the title is very cool, and I’m very happy with the images they chose to include. I’m also thrilled with the portraits shot specifically for the piece. My longtime assistant, student,  and dear friend Cory Donovan is a frequent contributor to Baltimore Magazine, and it was fitting that they gave him the assignment to photograph me for the article. Cory coordinated with the magazine’s art director Amanda White-Iseli and myself to come up with some very cool ideas for how to approach the shoot, and I think it all paid off in the end. They featured him on the “Contributor Page” (see below) for the piece, with a little blurb about the images:

“I wanted the materials she works with to become visual elements that echoed those of her mirror work”, he says. “She sits in front of the large mirror she photographs into, and you can see various details of the studio surrounding her”.

I can’t say enough about this article- all things considered, I believe it is the best written about me and my work ever. It is thorough, thoughtful, and beautifully produced. Gabriella manages to talk about a lot of deep topics in a way that is accessible, and Cory’s portraits were instantly personal favorites. I’m attaching images of how the article looks in the print version, but I highly recommend heading over to BaltimoreMagazine.net, where you can read it in it’s entirety AND see bonus material from an actual shoot!

 

The Nightwatch by Rembrandt, 1642
The Nightwatch by Rembrandt, 1642

Standing in front of the Rembrandt’s Night Watch in Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum was beyond stunning.  He was a true master of so many things – If I were a painter I would be mesmerized by the variety of his brushstrokes.  Often he will use what can only be imaged as a tiny, miniscule brush to get the splendid detail so characteristic of his paintings, while at other times he seems to use a pallet knife in a sweeping gesture ala the 20th century British painter, Francis Bacon.

Nothing, however, captivates a photographer like light.  And Rembrandt’s light is nothing short of brilliant.  A basic photography class, or any photography class, should be required to study this painting to understand how light defines form and creates a sense of dimension, as well as defining space and depth in an environment. In addition, Rembrandt uses light to draw our attention to different parts of the canvas as well to tell us the level of importance of the figures.  The most important figures are lit the brightest to show us their glowing significance.  As the intensity of the light fades, we realize, so do the status of the figures.  As they become darker and darker the figures become less prominent in the painting until they are barely distinguishable from the shadows. The light itself tells a story, as it highlights “moments”, a discussion between two aristocrats, a little girl watching them with a distressed look and the men in background loading rifles, beating drums.  It is the light that creates this electric atmosphere full of intrigue and mystery.

After a while, perhaps twenty minutes or so, I turned from the painting, the only Rembrandt in the room, and was struck by the dullness of every other painting.  As if they were all painted in mud.  And flat – no depth at all.  Just as suddenly I felt a gripping need to breathe fresh air. I had to get outside.  I craved a Coke.  It was as if I had a sudden heaviness in my head that felt a little like having a cold and fever.  Once Patricia and I were sitting outside, I was gulping a Coke, sucking sugar and caffeine as fast as possible while she poured cold water just as quickly down her throat, and we talked about the experience.  She had felt it too. Immediately overwhelmed and immediately exhausted.

We had become afflicted by the Stendhal Syndrome – also known as the art disease, the Florence Syndrome or the “hyperkulturemia.”  The cause is exposure to a concentration of overwhelming beauty –  such as is found in a museum.  It is a documented disease with a wide range of symptoms including anxiety, confusion, and disorientation.  The effects don’t last long and don’t require medical attention.  They are clearly real, however, and can’t be ignored.

This syndrome was named after Stendhal, the pen name for the 19th century French author, Henri-Marie Beyle during a visit to Florence.  In his book titled Naples and Florence: A Journey from Milan to Reggio (1817) he described his experience:

“I was in a sort of ecstasy, from the idea of being in Florence, close to the great men whose tombs I had seen. Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty…I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations … Everything spoke so vividly to my soul. Ah, if I could only forget. I had palpitations of the heart, what in Berlin they call ‘nerves.’ Life was drained from me. I walked with the fear of falling.”

Being overwhelmed by emotion is more commonly recognized in other areas, such as sports. I admit, I was an Olympic addict this summer, watching as often as possible.  Indulging in women’s wrestling, dressage, mountain biking, archery, field hockey, fencing as well as the traditional swimming, diving, track and gymnastics.  Many times, as an athlete won an event he or she was so overwhelmed (with joy? excitement? relief? the undefinable?), they would break down sobbing.  Is it that the emotions at that moment are too intense or poignant to actually experience?

When my nephew and his fiancé asked if Patricia and I would officiate their wedding I burst into tears.  I had no choice.  It was immediate.  I was thrilled beyond what I could feel at the moment.  What all these situations have in common is the ineffable quality of being emotionally overwhelmed.

During my time with the Night Watch I was held captive, engaged with the mastery of Rembrandt’s technique on one level, but clearly, on another level, I was experiencing the profound and acute power of true beauty.  The Stendhal Syndrome does not come on slowly, giving hints as to what is about to happen.  It comes on immediately and takes control.

I now understand what Thomas Mann meant when he said “Beauty can pierce one like a pain.” (published by Buddenbrooks, 1900, by Thomas Mann).