"Redemption" Donovan Casanave

Spiritually charged, pure and raw, the art work of Donovan Casanave is a harmonic mix of soul, spirit and paint, applied with an ancient sense of balance and purpose. His paintings are a delicate balance of light and dark, symbolism and minimalism, spirit and truth. When viewing Casanave’s work, one senses a calmness, gracefully infused with a dramatic presence that has a continuous and fluid flow on one’s psyche- giving rise to an ever increasing visual experience. Through the use of intricate layering with delicate impressions of patterns and textures, Casanave’s work transports the viewer to a sacred and calm place of allowing. The work pulls the viewer in as the large canvases come to life before one’s eyes. Repeating motifs in the artist’s works are rows of circles symbolizing the continuous strive for wholeness along with a contrasting rift which symbolizes the beginning of understanding. These elements combine to represent that which is important to both the spiritual as well as the physical realm. The artist’s style transcends time as his works not only speak to the story of humanity but also to that of life itself. To stand before the work of Casanave is to experience art beyond the five senses as his works are a raw expression of the manifestation of the artist’s soul by which he effectively communicates with the viewer in a subliminally, dramatic and soothing manner.

The Presumption of Guilt

Yesterday evening I heard professor Charles Ogletree (Harvard Law Professor) speak at Loyola University. His book The Presumption of Guilt: The Arrest of Henry Louis Gates Jr. and Race, Class and Crime in America is a must read- A real eye-opener for me considering that at one point I really wanted to believe that we live in a post-racial America. It's simply not true. I don't know if I wanted to integrate so badly that for a long time I didn't see the obvious but the cold truth is that Black, Latino and men of other ethnic groups are disproportionately stopped, arrested, jailed and branded with a criminal record. This is not a Black American problem it’s an American problem. To sit back and live in a society that perpetuates such ignorance and in the same breath call ourselves the greatest country in the world is preposterous. My generation, our generation are sometimes like sitting ducks. Here we are, unconscious, bewildered, making a little money all while getting duped. My dad, your brother, his cousin, her uncle ... I don't know many families in the African American community that has not been touched in some way by this justice system. Like many - I too don't want to keep recalling the past, but on the real (seriously)...let's deal with the present - and presently there are 68,000 black men in jail in NY. And now here I sit on the morning following a very moving documentary based on Professor Ogletree’s, I felt an intense surge of the “all-too-familiar” pain that makes itself known in the middle of my chest from time to time. It’s not a sharp intense pain liken to a physical ailment, but an empty thud that thumps and thumps at my soul. My thoughts were continually moved to thoughts of the women left behind through all of this tragedy. It was all too much, when at the end of the documentary the images of Trayvon Martin flashed across the screen and weeping mothers, fiancés and family members while Michael Jackson’s song “Gone to Soon” played in the background. As a woman, a cousin, a friend of a friend an American – I cried. I cried for the women, for the hundreds of thousands of black men in jail in this country and more importantly for the soul of America. As I sat and continued to listen, I reflected on the “In Black” exhibit from earlier this year. I remembered that while the women who exhibited in the exhibition focused on spirituality, artistic development and intuitive gestures related to the creation of art- the men focused on social issues, specifically issues that related to being a black man in the U.S. The pieces were moving, subliminal renditions of the psyche of a black man in 2012. I think that Ayo Scott’s piece “What Good is Being Black?” posed a question that Kenneth Scott’s piece “Desired” so poignantly answered. Both pieces are just a microcosm of the daily interplay of what hundreds of black, latino and men of other ethnic groups must wrestle both in reality and subconsciously when confronted with identity issues when examined through the lens of the “All American Man.” The Presumption of Guilt in the words of Professor Ogltree is too but a microcosm of what is going on nationwide. The unspoken pain of the women left behind, the moving testimonies of African American artists in their work and the crisis of a nation under siege by its own transgressions is more than enough evidence that now is the time for our nation to move on from a horrible past to a future full of hope.

Construction of the Victory - Thornton Dial at NOMA

Yesterday I visited the New Orleans Museum of Art again to see the Thornton Dial exhibition currently on display for the second time. To say that it is one of THE most riveting exhibitions I have ever seen is an understatement. There is something special about this exhibition, about its timing at NOMA, its place in the world and specifically its place in the "high" art world. Not only does Dial take us on a journey through spiritual revelations concerning the human condition, but he also bares his soul as he visually works out the ills of social injustice. Dial poignantly displays, through his art, the many levels that such pains have had and continue to have on the collective psyche of the underprivileged or the less regarded in any society. I was perplexed, happy, sad and overwhelmingly joyful as I witnessed the work of this man who tells it like it "TIS" not with words but with art. His aesthetic may not be pleasing to the masses, but the messages imbued in his works are pure. People connect with them and I imagine that in one way or the other, many can find themselves somewhere pictured within the entanglements of wires, ropes, carpet, plastic bottles, tin cans, plastic dolls, old rubber, rotted wood and an endless array of other odds and ends. The exhibition fittingly ends with a piece called “Construction of the Victory” where Dial has used an array of iconographic imagery such as the cross and crutches, covered in red paint, to express the continuous struggle to survive life’s obstacles. When I began to “feel” his work ( I didn’t touch it… I promise) I got the sense that The Creator was communing with me and showing me something that could otherwise not be explained with words. I immediately began to recognize the human condition of insanity and delusion in them, of confusion, of reality and make-believe. Yet the artist beautifully rendered understandable, recognizable messages of hope, life, death, triumph and even failure. He made sense of the confusion - on purpose. The first time I saw the exhibit, I mistakenly entered from the end of the exhibit and progressively worked my way through to the beginning. What was supposed to I guess signify growth as an artist and as a human being, became for me his “Now.” The pieces that I saw first were the pieces that were more spiritually inclined, with subjects relating to life and death, greed and power, etc. I did not know if the artist was white or black, orange or purple, all I knew was that these massive pieces of art, made of “trash” were perfectly balanced in color and composition and spoke to me on a deeper spiritual level. What I felt most about his work was his deep sense of eternity. Although I’ve never met Mr. Dial, through viewing his work, I imagine that he has long since “come to terms with” or “worked through” being simply human and being black in America or the “concept” of it thereof. He’s poetically acknowledged (through amazing works of art) the bittersweet deception of the American Dream, the horrors of global greed and the paradox of wealth. As an artist, I can see where a course on creating “in the spirit” of Mr. Dial is a much need prerequisite IF the goal of creating art is truly to be that which transcends words and still speaks to the soul. That his work was grossly misunderstood somewhere along the way, does not surprise, as it is hard for many of us to recognize the chaos that we are in as chaos. Desensitized and oblivious, we struggle, push and pull, instead of recognizing the beautiful harmony that can be beheld if only we stop and observe. Mr. Dial has observed it and he’s chronicled it as a mirror image of what it is. And to that I say … he has indeed “Constructed the Victory.” Read Doug Maccash's review of the Thornton Dial exhibition here You can also see several pics of some of the pieces from this exhibit p.s. - You've got 3 more days to see it in person at the New Orleans Museum of Art

Ricky

I saw a documentary on Ricky Williams the other day... Grant it, I'm no subject matter expert on the topic, but I'm still thinking about it because, it seems (to me) the the biggest issue the media had with him was that he did not want fame and fortune. He was not particularly over fascinated with it all (and that was OH SO OFFENSIVE). In essence, he walked away from $30 mil when it was all said and done. My feeling is that the inner peace he found, the man he became and his continual search for truth was worth far more than $30 million. As I continued to watch it with my husband, it became apparent to me that the commentators, the fans, etc. they were overzealous with rage because really he was walking away from what so many of them only dreamed about, coveted, longed for...and here it was in his lap and he stood up, brushed it off, watched it fall to the ground and stepped on it like it was worthless. For him, it was, the trade off was too high. He was depicted as strange, possibly bipolar, a hot mess...when all he was wanted was Peace. I liked the way the documentary ended though. It showed his wedding to a woman who "surprisingly stood by him through his "craziness" and the house they lived in along with his 3 kids. Unlike the 2004 videos that showed this strange looking man with food in his beard, his eyes seemed to shine and he had an easy way of communicating. He was smiling and appeared happy. I'm still thinking about Ricky, because I realize that although many of us want it, need it, we are completely unwilling to go through the process. Even me...but when does fear, success and money become to high a price to pay?

Moving Toward the Light

I remember walking along the Arno river and I saw this old man painting these little brilliantly, colorful impressionistic scenes of the local scenery full of energy and light. I was in awe… I was completely captivated. He painted many of them in one day and they were lined up along the bridge and around his feet. I imagined him to be some type of artist sage with his long white beard and paint-stained hands with little messages of light. He rarely, if ever, looked up as if he were unconcerned with the world around him. It seemed like the only thing that mattered was what he was painting at that moment. What impressed me the most was how it appeared that painting was a part of his nature, it seemed as effortless as eating. I don’t know how many times I walked past him trying to get more tidbits of “light” without being obvious that I was observing him intensely. To this very day, I think of that artist often as without ever knowing his name, he has inspired me to this day. These new pieces I’m working on fill me in some strange way. Just a few months before Katrina hit, I’d began working on a series of paintings that were simply waterscapes with sunrises. They were big and beautiful and at that time, I was still hooked on using oil paint. Unfortunately, they were all lost in the storm. But slowly, over the years I still painted my waterscapes here and there.

Here is a picture of one I did in 2006. Before, I think it was more like an excercise or practice, as I was fully engaged with my mind. But now, I imagine that as I “flow” into the colors, which I only choose with my next breath, that this is how the artist man on the bridge must have felt - unconcerned with the world, but completely connected to the present moment and the present color and how it blends into the canvas of colors I’ve created thus far. Its like a symphony, as I build up to that peak moment where the light peaks through in one area of the canvas. At moments I struggle, but I feel a real sense of calm wash through me as I look at the canvas and think to myself, “what would the creator do?” And every time, the same still, sweet, very soft message passes through me to keep moving toward the light.

A New Wind

Every morning I look forward to the adventures of the day. Lately, everything has been happening so fast. I remember just last summer not really knowing what the future of M. Francis Gallery would look like and now here we are, a new spring on the horizon and I'm in the full swing of things. No more fearing the next curve or turn, instead, I've decided to embrace and face all of the many challenges head on. So today I sit enjoying the present moment as I type this blog under the hair dryer - (TMI I know,) watching my husband's shadow through the curtains as he does lunges on the back porch, smelling the scent in the air and sharing my thoughts and feelings with the world. I look forward to the day's adventures, whatever they might be. And the snafus, as they are sure to pop up too. Spring Time in New Orleans is always exciting - a plethora of festivals are right around the corner and for us, already - Tomorrow is Jammin' on Juilia (an annual New Orleans Arts District Event) where we close the entire street down and basically have an art party. Tomorrow will be a little different though. In the past, the event has been from 6-9 p.m., but tomorrow it will be an all day event. I'm sure like most, I'm optimistic and hopeful for a good day. We're showing new work by Ellene. She's been so nervous about the response to her work, but I believe in her, in her work. Her pieces are strong, harmonious and beautiful. (*Gasp* did she just call art beautiful? I did I did.) I love beautiful art and Ellene's work is amazingly fresh, inspiring and beautiful! All in all - I'm sure the day will bring a fresh new wave of life. We've painted, cleaned and reorganized a few things and surprisingly I feel really refreshed as well - it's like a new wind has truly come through.

What Are You Afraid of?? - My First Love - Arts and Crafts

As far as I can remember, I've always been attracted to colors and color combinations. I loved coloring when I was little. I just loved it. No particular reason why - I just did. I remember in the 7th grade at McMain, I used to make these barrettes with my name on them. They were painted in all sorts of colors, decorated with ribbons and dots...and I loooved doing them. I would do them into the wee hours of the night (on the weekends.) I remember staying up past 2 a.m. painting barrettes. My entire family was sleep and I was somewhere in heaven with my paints, wooden letters, hot glue gun and ribbons. It was also my first real brush with entrepreneurship. I would take orders on slips of loose leaf paper. All one had to do was write their name, the colors they wanted their barrette and wrap up 3-5 bucks in a piece of paper and voila! you'd have your very own customized Myesha Francis barrette in 3-5 days. During Vacation Bible School (which we went to Err summer) I could not wait for the arts and crafts portion of the day. Although I did not outwardly show my extremely high level of enthusiasm, it was the part of the day I looked forward to the most. Then in high school, I decided I wanted my nails to look just like my Auntie Le Le's nails. They were always full of colors and I loved it. I must have painted my nails every color "under the sun." And I loooved every second of it. Some kind of way, I got my parents to agree to let me go to Fashion Design School as opposed to a 4 year university. In high school I researched and researched Savannah College of Art and Design, but for some reason, it didn't happen. I wind up going to a little fashion design school in Dallas. I didn't like it so much as the rigidness of sewing just did not sit well with me. Plus, I just didn't like it. But that experience got me to creating small cute pillows and I even designed an entire bedroom with curtains, pillows, etc. It was fun, but still not my "thing." So finally, the story goes on and I'm sitting in church wondering what oh what shall I do??? I remember listening to Dr. Tony Evans talking about your purpose in life. I'd never EVER heard such a thing. That I was actually created/ designed to do something. I remember him saying that whatever you love doing, whatever you would do for free, whatever makes your heart beat a little faster is directly linked to your passion. It was shortly after that, that I heard a still small voice whisper "You're painting on six inch nails and I have six foot canvases for you." It was so real that in that quick few seconds, it was like I was the only person in the room. I knew I was not talking to myself because "paint on canvas" is not something I would have said to myself. I had no concept really of what painting on canvas meant, as I didn't even know what canvas was. But as is my nature, I soon began to research and learn more about painting on canvas. That very next semester I enrolled in art school. And now here it is, some years later and I've done just that, even opened a gallery to help sell my works and others and now I'm feeling this yearning, this pressing to just do crafts again. I just want to glue together some popsicle sticks and paint on them. I just told my husband that I am tired of throwing away wine bottles - surely I could make them into beautiful pieces of art. And after I purchased a piece by Lashaun Beal painted on a wine bottle, I am all the more inspired. But then, who's talking now is fear. Is that fine art? Who will want that? You will make it all and only be able to give it away? Are you crazy? Your family is really going to think you're nuts now! Seriously Myesha - popsicle sticks! Sick of these voices. My spirit says go, my heart says why not? My mind says silly girl. I'm just curious, is it just me or do all of us have these deep passions that seem to be way off, considering where we currently are in life?