Search Results

Hanging my head in shame, I see it has been over a month since I last posted. The past few weeks have not been easy, and I have not felt very creative (I don't like the cliché word 'inspired'). Thank you to anyone who came along to the exhibition in Flamstead https://www.artfullyabstractedblog.com/post/exhibition-of-paintings-by-up-and-coming-uk-abstract-artist-haydn-in-historic-english-village ; and even more, huge apologies to anyone who came along to the phantom Auction at Lambden's, Woburn last Friday, that I mentioned not in a blog article but in an email which, if my fogged brain serves me properly, I sent out independently of this site. I say 'phantom' because the auction – destined to be one presenting for bidding fifteen of my best paintings of widely varying sizes, was pulled by the venue at the eleventh hour. It never took place. Have I received an apology or an explanation? Not on your life. I will soon get back to my regular art history/criticism/anecdote articles, but let me leave you for this evening with three new small paintings Also, don't forget that you can purchase four of my paintings, either singly or as a quartet here https://molasseshouse.com/browse-art/artists/haydn, or by visiting Molasses House Gallery in person in Harpenden, Herts, UK. À bientôt! HELLO STRANGERS! Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

The concise and magnificent words in today's title came from the mouth of Jackson Pollock, one of the greatest, most influential and innovative painters of the New York Abstract Expressionist school. How straight and fast Pollock loosed his arrow, in his evaluation of the ideal way to approach what he called 'Modern Art'. Contemporary art, despite its intrinsically subjective nature which allows for unlimited nuances of reaction, remains sadly vulnerable to prejudice. It often seems that, because a painting does not look 'like' something, it attracts derision. I find this illogical. The very fact that an abstract painting 'looks like' nothing on earth gives it a uniqueness of identity, of gesture and message that all come entirely from within, rather than being an interpretation of something tangible, observed, recorded and interpreted from without. Isn't that rather lovely? My readers know that I am evangelical about encouraging an open-minded, inclusive appreciation of abstract painting. I take – with apologies to James Joyce – a 'stream of consciousness' critical standpoint; one where the viewer allows themselves to be flooded with sensory input that comes pouring from the very heart of the painting itself. When collectors of my work couch their reactions in terms that reflect the above mentality, I know I have succeeded. “Haydn's themes are both mystical and metaphorical” “I can get lost in the brushstrokes and the swirls of paint and I can’t ever quite define it.” “The painting has a peaceful, uplifting energy and at times it even seems as if it radiates light.” “I chose this painting as it gives me a feeling of space and isn't contained; it seems to continue outside the canvas.” Let us return to Jackson Pollock. While Pollock is not one of my favourite Abstract Expressionist painters, his influence has always been seismic. The Pollock style and approach still typify the popular conception of the action painter, a situation that simultaneously honours the artist's memory and does it a disservice. That disservice is done because the trope of the 'tortured genius' in art has become clichéd and over-prevalent. By its endless reiteration, the hideous and insulting caricature of the wild man chucking paint randomly at a floor-mounted canvas is encouraged to clasp itself, limpet-like, to the dullard collective public consciousness. Indeed, when I began painting abstract art, someone who should have known better got off on the wrong foot by proclaiming to me “Ah, I perceive the influence of Jackson Pollock” just because my painting happened to display a few drips – drips, please note, rather than 'splats'! Equivalent demeaning mythical tropes in music would be the crazy devil-possessed Paganini-clone violinist or the ridiculously demonstrative 'mad' pianist, long hair flailing around him, as he thunders out clangourous fistfuls of chords. Pollock, Kline, Motherwell et al were so much more than such comic-book slurs, as are most abstract painters today and – on the musical side – most pianists, violinists and others. Below follow some questions and answers put to and answered by Jackson Pollock in a short documentary: Q. What is the meaning of modern art? A. The thing that interests me is that, today, painters do not need to go to a subject-matter outside themselves. Most modern painters work from within, expressing the energy, the motion and other forces. Q. How should one look at a Pollock painting? How do we learn to appreciate modern art? A. Try not to 'look for' something, but to look passively. Try to receive what the painting has to offer. It should be enjoyed, just as music is enjoyed. You may like it, or you may not, but at least give it a chance. Thank you, JP, thank you so much. Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

Good evening to all my readers from a cold, damp UK, where the term 'April Showers' seems to be taking the proverbial, so to speak... Here, the sun only appears in the evening when all good folk are indoors, blogging. Right now, the blackbird is revelling in the eventide glory, trying hard to convince me, through his trilling song, that proper spring is just around the corner. So, may I introduce a new painting today, WITH THE QUIET PRIMEVAL SUN; while not really a 'sunny' painting, I know what I mean by the title, which is in fact a quotation from a poem I wrote late last year. Abstract art, remember, needs no meaning. It does not depict. It conveys and stimulates emotion; that is its meaning. I wrote the poem while sitting on a deserted university campus for the first time in forty-one years, in the depths of winter; so make of the quotation, and the painting's title, what you will. I am fascinated by and drawn to the use of shifting tones and hues, and by a minimal palette. I don't like to confuse the eye with phantasmagorical plethorae of jostling colours, though I am aware that sometimes I do so. As anyone knows who reads this column, 'my' paintings take charge of themselves, so who am I to blame if things take me on a Magical Mystery Tour? Thus, while the Beatles musical cornucopia of that name pulses provocatively in the other room as I write tonight, I offer you a picture that presents some throbbing, swirling, secret blues, and a burning orange bassline. WITH THE QUIET PRIMEVAL SUN - Haydn (2024) Now for some news on a forthcoming exhibition. Alongside the ongoing 'Haydn Room' which is a semi-permanent fixture at Lambdens of Woburn https://www.instagram.com/lambdensbistro/ and the soon-to-be-announced showing of the framed 'MANIFESTATION QUARTET' at Molasses House in Harpenden https://molasseshouse.com/, let me me alert you to the following: Flamstead is a beautiful, ancient village in Hertfordshire. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flamstead I am delighted to report that I have been invited to exhibit in a new venture in the village, in the form of an Arts Show featuring, alongside live music performances and more, an exhibition and sale of paintings by eight acclaimed artists. As shown in the image above, the Festival runs from 6th to 9th June this year. Paintings are to be exhibited in St Leonard's Church. I aim to exhibit at least at least twelve paintings (all of them for sale), some large and some 'small but perfectly formed', a term that is, delightfully, at least two hundred years old and was not coined – as is often assumed, by Pamela Stephenson in NOT THE NINE O'CLOCK NEWS. Do contact me here at 'Artfully Towers' for more information about the Flamstead show, and I hope to see you there. Meanwhile, enjoy that 'Primeval Sun', when it finally puts in more than a token appearance. EXHIBITION NEWS AND A NEW PAINTING Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

Once again, people, apologies for the change in 'title-style'. I'm still trying to find the format that brings the best engagement to my articles. When Wix – the platform I use for this blog – altered things for us writers, I dipped my toes in the waters of SEO and found that longer titles seemed to work better than short, snappy ones. My first post after the change (April 5th) brought nearly a 300% increase in engagement within ten minutes, but only three of you have looked at my most recent post of May 17th, so I'm baffled. Is the title boring, not enticing, or something else? Are you too busy enjoying the summer weather? Please do continue, but do also have a read of my blog while enjoying a cheeky chilled glass in the garden! May 17th's post was quite an important one for me, so please let me know where I've gone wrong. I'm especially curious because that post was about an Exhibition, and barely anyone read it; while April 5th also consisted of exhibition news (albeit that the exhibition was cancelled), and was apparently a hit. Exhibition news it is again today then! Always worth a try. Please could I ask you all to share as much as you feel you would like to? Use your social media please. I love writing these articles, especially the art history ones, and that – up to a point- is reward in it itself. When it is a promotion however, it would be nice if the reach could be a big one, certainly more than three! Thank you. All work at Molasses House https://molasseshouse.com/browse-art/artists/haydn can be purchased remotely via the gallery site, with finance available, so you do not have to miss out by not being local! Now on to today's main message, which is promotion again! On April 28th, I mentioned the upcoming Flamstead Arts Festival https://www.flamsteadheritage.org/flamstead-arts-festival/meet-the-artists/ in which I will be exhibiting alongside seven other amazing and diverse artists. For this, you do have to be reasonably local! If you come along between 6th and 9th June, you can see around ten to twelve of my pieces, all available for sale (card payments accepted). As the Festival website shows, you can also enjoy a huge range of activities and displays including music and drama. Paintings are displayed indoors (thank you!) in the glorious, famous and historic church of St Leonard's. The FAF (Flamstead Arts Festival) folks have so kindly used one of my images as a thumbnail to illustrate the 'Throughout The Festival' paragraph here https://www.flamsteadheritage.org/flamstead-arts-festival/ Here it is – it will be available to purchase at the Festival. Hope to see some of you at Flamstead, and once again, keep sharing please! Thank you for your support. EXHIBITION OF PAINTINGS BY UP AND COMING UK ABSTRACT ARTIST HAYDN IN HISTORIC ENGLISH VILLAGE Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

May 4th  saw the passing of the prominent American artist Frank Stella. Born in Malden, Massachusetts, in 1936, this highly distinctive painter of huge, arresting, colourful abstract canvases and paintings on aluminium died in New York where he had made his home. Frank Stella in his home, West Village, Manhattan, NY. Photo - Elena Cué Frank Stella - portrait by Bob Berg Stella was an exponent of the so-called 'Hard-Edge' school of abstraction/minimalism. He wished his work to appear self-contained and somewhat impersonal. A state of flux became apparent over time, in the way that Stella approached his craft - from the monochrome 'pin-stripe' paintings of the late 1950's to the colourful exuberance of his later years – but a notable geometric baseline usually persisted. Stella was influenced, perhaps inevitably, by the great Abstract Expressionists such as Pollock, Kline, Motherwell and De Kooning. Tracing the continuum forward, I see echoes of his early 'stripe' work on that of another great contemporary abstractionist, Sean Scully, in mark-making if not always in colour. EAST BROADWAY - Frank Stella (1958) HELENA - Sean Scully (1993) The hard-edged nature of Frank Stella's later work conveys, to me, a certain severity of utterance. There is no denying the exuberance and the humour, but I find a degree of cacophony in his vortices of opposing colours which appear strident to my eye. I align more with the minimalist stripes of his early work, which the artist tended to dismiss as 'tautology'; in them,“what you see is what you see”, Stella said. That statement is not a bad one, at any rate; it is, after all 'precisely 'what' we see that is so important. Furthermore, what we see may not be what the artist sees – or does not see, and this is what makes contemporary art so engaging. GREY SCRAMBLE - Frank Stella (1968-9) Frank Stella in Exhibition If Sean Scully has inherited some threads from the mantle of early Stella, he has beguilingly woven them into a more sensually heated fabric; Scully admits, indeed, to developing a fascination for the patterns and colours of Moroccan rugs after an early visit to that country. Scully, incidentally, has described England as “basically a country that doesn't understand art”. Now there's a remark that might be worthy of discussion in this column! What do my readers think? Shall we talk about it? Scully possesses a highly sensitive and questing intellect. He also love the natural world as do I; his opinions bear thought and scrutiny. With the passing of Frank Stella, we lose another link to the blazing glory of mid-twentieth century Abstract Expressionism, and a remarkable and prolific artist. Let us continue to appreciate and learn from those who are still with us, revering them as much as we do those who have departed. IN MEMORIAM FRANK STELLA – AND SOME THOUGHTS ON SEAN SCULLY Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

First of all, today's post is the 'weighty eighty' – the eightieth post in this column since its inception twenty months ago. For this auspicious event, I have chosen to write about a prolific and provocative twentieth-century artist whose work is as colourful as his name, Friedensreich Hundertwasser. CATHEDRAL (1), MARRAKECH - Friedensreich Hundertwasser (1951) At Christmas, I received a card, bearing the above magnificent image, from a family member, who holds a seemingly unlimited collection of wonderfully obscure art cards, having grown up in an artistic family in the German Democratic Republic. If you want to know more about this family, read about Elisabeth Schettler at this link! https://www.artfullyabstractedblog.com/post/some-german-art-and-about-creating-through-destroying More on Hundertwasser later. One of my favourite weekend pastimes is visiting car boot sales with my granddaughter. Maia gets an ice lolly and other treats and I root out a vintage camera for a few pounds if I'm lucky or, in the case of yesterday's visit, a small haul of books. Yesterday's collection was eclectic – a set of articles on Tolstoi written by Lenin, a small volume about Astral Projection, and a very austere looking 1938 Pelican publication, ART IN ENGLAND, by R.S. Lambert, complete with '32 photogravure plates' – all of them in severe, high-contrast black and white! The latter book consists of some pretty hectoring pronouncements, and an entire chapter devoted to a terse 1935 broadcast discussion between the artist and critic Eric Newton and the architect Sir Reginald Blomfield, entitled THIS MODERNISMUS. EN: I am glad to have the opportunity of meeting the author of MODERNISMUS. (Macmillan and co LTD). I find it very stimulating, but I must confess that with many of the things that you say in it I disagree heartily. SIR RG: I quite expect you too...I am prepared to stand by everything I said in that book. As the barbed exchange continues, Newton accuses Blomfield of contributing to a ruinous state of affairs whereby people will stop buying art! Blomfield retorts tetchily by asserting that works by Monsieur Picasso have recently changed hands at between two and three thousand pounds! Two and three thousand pounds! Let us move on from these bickering gentlemen, with their blustering about 'crowds of mediocrities' and suchlike. A gentler thought appears in a chapter by the great Henry Moore, who opines that “It is a mistake for a sculptor or a painter to speak or write very often about his job. It releases tension needed for his work”. Nicely put; these words convey something I feel strongly, that I do not want to explain my art. David Bowie famously said that “talking about music is like dancing about architecture”. Absolutely! Quite how I will fare when I have to engage in a 'Meet The Artist' evening in the near future remains to be seen! Let us return now to Friedensreich Regentag Dunkelbunt Hundertwasser. Hundertwasser, whose birth name was Friedrich Stowasser, chose his pseudonym carefully. 'Sto', the first syllable of his family name derives from a Slavic word meaning 'hundred' and 'wasser' means water in German. To the adapted surname he added three preceding names, arriving at an appellation that translates as Peace-realm Rainy-day Darkly multi-coloured Hundred-water! Friedensreich Hundertwasser was born in Vienna in 1928, dying in 2000 aboard the QE2 passenger ship. His Jewish family avoided Nazi persecution by posing as Christians. Hundertwasser's father had been a Catholic, so the young Friedrich was baptised into that faith, leading him to regard himself as a 'half-Jew'. Hundertwasser displayed prodigious artistic gifts as a child, soon becoming instantly recognisable for his brightly coloured paintings. THE BIG WAY - Friedensreich Hundertwasser (1955) His legacy, quite apart from paintings, is enormous, encompassing mosaic and a profusion of other disciplines and creative directions. From the 1950s, Hundertwasser became most famous for his pioneering architecture which featured flowing, spiral designs and constructions intended to be in harmony with nature; a style notably different from that of the puritanical Edwardian Blomfield, mentioned above. The Kunsthaus, Vienna, designed by Friedensreich Hundertwasser In Hundertwasser's vision, planting trees in urban environments was obligatory, as be believed human misery to be derived from what he saw as the soulless, barren and monotonous elements present in much modern architecture. He may be the originator of the roof-garden; he was certainly a strong advocate for its importance. The 'Hundertwasserhaus', the architect's social housing project, is one of Vienna's best-loved tourist attractions. The Hundertwasserhaus, Vienna, complete with roof-garden Hundertwasser left his creative mark in his adopted homeland, New Zealand, with an arts centre named after him and, a few kilometres up the road, what must be the most exuberantly beautiful and ornate toilet block in the world! The Hundertwasser Toilets, Kamakawa, New Zealand In 1967 and 1968, Hundertwasser delivered his famous 'Naked Speeches', in which he appeared unclothed and proclaimed beliefs in the 'three skins' of human beings – the epidermis, the clothing and the dwelling-place. He advocated the planting of a tree atop a grave, instead of a headstone, and when he was buried in New Zealand, a tulip tree was planted where he was laid to rest. SHIP ASHORE - Friedensreich Hundertwasser (1995) Some may decry Friedensreich Hundertwasser as a wacky eccentric, even an attention-seeker. It is my opposing belief that humanity needs such visionaries, convention-challengers, joyously prolific creators and extravagantly daring thinkers. Hundertwasser was surely all of those. His work moves me deeply. He also possessed one of the most beautiful names in all Art! ON SOME THOUGHTS OF HENRY MOORE AND OTHERS AND A FASCINATING AUSTRIAN ARTIST. - Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

A long while ago, when I was languishing in the artistic wilderness, I listened to people who told me that maximum social media exposure is the key to 'getting your work out there'. In what form 'there' - that apparent artistic utopia – existed, I was never quite sure. I dutifully absorbed the doctrine that 'likes', 'followers' and (that, for me, horribly misemployed term) 'shares' all form the collective key to artistic success. I am now convinced that social media is a useful and beneficial tool, and an adjunct to other proper, concrete means of promotion, but that it in no way represents the real world. Many were the times when, chiefly as a 'control', I would post an image on Twitter (I still can't bring myself to call it 'X') of a relatively poor painting, only to find it going like the clappers while other, beautiful and 'like-worthy' pieces were virtually ignored. I would occasionally upload to abstract art forums on Reddit - still images, and the occasional progress-video. The comments that trickled in were usually weird, sometimes bitter and unhinged, showing a deep misunderstanding of what I was aiming to achieve. I won't say they were never of any value, for I believe that almost any perspective on one's work can be valuable, sometimes in ways that one does not expect. Yesterday I revisited my old abstract art stamping-ground on Reddit and found an artist's post of a quite ethereal, almost Zen-like abstract meditation. It reminded me of some of what I used to produce fifteen years ago – uncertain, naïve, yet articulating an honest truth. It was soft, immediate, like a breath – a fleeting utterance caught on the wind of questioning. For sure, it was no grand gesture, no profound statement; but the first of many fairly disparaging comments below it opined, with crushing negativity, that the painting was poor because it displayed an absence of 'intent'. MARIENBERG COMPOSITION 2 - Haydn Dickenson 2008 Today then, I will challenge the notion that Art without intent is not Art. Reading that comment irked me. I detest narrow thinking. In my own response to experiences, statements, criticisms and the like, I always consider the bigger picture. I typically play devil's advocate for a while, analysing and dissecting the words or the act, in search of a germ of truth; there is often one to be found. The above statement about 'intent' is nothing groundbreaking. If one of the many utterances that Picasso is alleged to have made is authentic, even he believed that there is no true abstraction in art, because “you have to start with something”; but intent as a necessary condition for Art? - I don't think so. The great Brazilian writer Paulo Coelho tells us that “There is always a gap between intention and action”. I think that this is where the problem lies. In my world, artistic creation is at its most pure when it is spontaneous. I don't want there to be a gap. I have written many times before in this column about the nature of the creative act as it takes hold of me. The first mark that I make on a canvas is the opening of a door, and its primary action is very different from that of a painter sketching, say, the outline of a horse. To begin rendering the sleek outlines of the horse requires premeditation, thought and planning; it needs to have a concentrated 'horsey intent'. I intend no slur against figurative artists, but when I make my first mark, I want it to come from somewhere outside my immediate control. Neither approach diminishes the other – they merely emerge from different places. For me, the only intent is the one that commands me to make a mark at all. THREE-FOUR - Haydn Dickenson 2023 It is lazy to suggest that art without intent is necessarily not art. Conversely, there is a great deal of 'art', brimming with intent, that could be argued not to be art at all. The author and motivational speaker Steve Maraboli has said: “Interrupt your thoughts of 'I should' with your action of doing”; as in Life, so in Art. Some years ago, I worked with a therapist who taught me that “there is no 'should' ”. I think about this statement almost every day. Even in my much younger years, I used to liken my best days to those of a cow grazing in the field, or a raptor soaring on the thermals. The cow plans nothing – it has no agenda. It contentedly munches the grass as and when it requires or wishes to. It walks, stands, or sleeps according to no laws but those of nature. It relieves itself where it stands, when it needs. The eagle catches the thermals, its majestic wings thrown open to the sun and the sky, diving to seize its prey in a single, devastating, inevitable act of unpremeditated magnificence. As a Tai Chi master once said, “You need to eat, sleep, shit and piss. The rest is none of your business”. Yesterday afternoon I 'began' a new painting. I place inverted commas around 'began', for I do not believe I truly began it. The journey was offered to me and I chose to take it, hopping on the painterly train at precisely the moment that was meant to be. What I make of the journey will depend on my receptiveness to its gifts. Eugen Herrigel, a German Professor of Philosophy, told in ZEN IN THE ART OF ARCHERY (Penguin-Arkana, 1985) of his experience studying Archery with a Zen master. His extraordinary book is a regular source of inspiration to me. I will finish this page of thoughts about Intent, by quoting from it: “And so we began again from the very beginning, as if everything I had learnt hitherto had become useless...One day I asked the Master: “How can the shot be loosed if 'I' do not do it? “ 'It' shoots,” he replied.” “It” paints. Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2023

Greetings to all my followers at what really should be the beginning of Spring here in the UK – how is it in your other respective countries? In my home, neither winter clothes nor the winter duvet have been packed away yet... Another shameless plug today, I'm afraid. I'll get back to art history, art criticism and my usual psychology/mysticism-based slant on art soon, I promise; but for today, some good and some less good news. Sadly, the full gallery solo exhibition of my work at Molasses House https://molasseshouse.com/ about which I wrote in my last post, has been postponed (I trust in that word, rather than 'cancelled'). I must add that this is no reflection on the gallery owner but is due to circumstances beyond his or my control, currently. However, four of my pieces – as illustrated last time around in this column – have been displayed at Molasses House, to favourable reaction, and have now gone off to be framed for re-inclusion in the gallery's collection in ten to fourteen days time, I hope. I will report back. Back in December 2023, through my representatives Iologies Fine Art, I entered into a collaboration with a wonderful little Cafe-Bistro in Woburn, Bedfordshire, UK. Lambdens Cafe-Bistro is stunning 'best-kept-secret' in the glorious picture-postcard village of Woburn, right next to Woburn Abbey, Deer Park and Safari Park. The Bistro nestles in an idyllic Georgian high street, close to the Woburn Art Gallery where I have exhibited on two previous occasions and on whose website I still have a presence. https://www.woburnartgallery.co.uk/index.php?page=artist&id=80 At Lambdens, an entire room in this captivating, cosy and very classy bistro is dedicated to my work and is eponymously titled, 'The Haydn Room'. In it, you can sit and enjoy acclaimed cocktails and an eclectic cuisine, surrounded by fifteen of my original paintings, all of which are for sale. A brochure of my work is available in the room. Publicity on this venture has been slow, but I am now in a position to share details and images, as you can see above. Lambdens – who are quite new to Woburn – do not yet have a website, but if you care to follow me on Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/arthaydn/ and, indeed, Lambdens at https://www.instagram.com/lambdensbistro, you will be able to read more both about the Bistro and about me. Rumour has it that – although all work at Lambdens is currently for sale already – certain pieces are due to be auctioned soon at a special event at the Bistro – with a percentage of proceeds going to charity; so, if you want to pick up a piece at a special price, best keep your ear to the ground and mail me here at Artfully Abstracted Towers for details! Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

Just a short post today, about a remarkable artistic lineage which set me thinking this morning. Around 1920, Claude Monet painted a series of pictures entitled 'SAULE PLEUREUR' (WEEPING WILLOW). The tree that caught his imagination grew next to his beloved pond in Giverny, France. SAULE PLEUREUR (WEEPING WILLOW) - Claude Monet (1918-19) As with his more familiar and greatly loved WATER LILIES series which depicts the same idyllic garden, the canvases illustrated above and below confirm the monumental influence and impact that Monet's Willows exerted on generations of later artists. SAULE PLEUREUR (WEEPING WILLOW) - Claude Monet (1921-22) I was especially struck, today, by the kinship of tone, hue and even emotion between the 1922 WEEPING WILLOW (immediately above) and the work of the great Joan Mitchell below. The two artists also demonstrate a similar use of negative space around the edges of the paintings. UNTITLED - Joan Mitchell (1959) Out of the two, Monet applies the paint more densely, but the fecund sensuality of his work undeniably finds rich echoes in Mitchell's pure, airy abstraction. On another, unrelated matter, I read today that the tedious and culturally vacant obsession with taking selfies in front of great works of art is leading to a spike in gallery insurance claims and, consequently, premiums. Unsurprisingly, paintings are sustaining damage when the selfie-taker reverses into the painting, potentially tripping over the alarm wire. Alarming, literally, and depressing. Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

Regular readers will know that a hobby-horse of mine is the – in my view, unfortunate - collective expectation that abstract art must signify something. This is not an across-the board perception, of course, but it does raise its tedious head from time to time; that niggling urge bubbles up, in the art-consuming public-at-large, to ask “but what does it mean?” At its worst, such a state of affairs manifests as a belief that, when something is free of tangible, definable or representational meaning, it must be 'meaningless'. To go a little Victorian on you: forgive me, dear Reader, if I re-tread some well-worn steps, for today I want to to visit this subject yet again. Yesterday I chanced upon a beautiful interview with the American minimalist/abstract artist Agnes Martin (1912-2004) in which she articulates several moving and apposite convictions about Art and Life. I want to call them 'Truths' as, for me, they are; but naturally, many may disagree. UNTITLED - Agnes Martin (c. 1960) I urge you to watch the interview. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_-JfYjmo5OA&t=2s Perhaps you might like to respond in the form of a comment on my article today – I'd love to get a more regularly interactive, discursive slant going in this column, so do go ahead! AGNES MARTIN IN HER STUDIO I would like to highlight a few statements from the interview mentioned above which are, to me, piercing in their simplicity and correctness. Agnes Martin asked herself every day what she was going to do next, answering “I want to do exactly what the inspiration calls for”. I melt when I hear such words, for they endorse the beating of my own artistic heart when it calls out to me “Damn 'consistency', damn 'phases' and 'groups'! Paint what your soul moves you to paint!” Ms Martin goes on to note that “from Music, people accept pure emotion, but from Art, they demand explanation”. Regular followers of this column will not be surprised to learn how strongly this sentence resonates with me when I have my musician's hat on. It would indeed be ludicrous to enquire as to the meaning of, say, J.S Bach's ART OF FUGUE or of any of Beethoven's or Schubert's sublime late Chamber Music or Piano Sonatas. Yet people – well-meaningly, I charitably assume – still desire to know from me about what I was thinking when I painted that picture! Go on – watch the interview! It brings a great sense of peace. Listen particularly to Agnes Martin's advice about how to acquire a clear mind. Also please allow me to quote from her twice more: “We experience a tremendous range of abstract feelings, but we don't pay attention to them” and, most wonderfully, “The worst thing that you can do while painting is to start thinking about yourself.” To bring things crashing back down to earth, with apologies, WIX (the platform on which I operate this blog) has changed things a little. It seems not to offer me hashtag options for new posts, but is now pushing simple SEO settings, including one where I may need to make my titles a little wordier. You may have noticed this already in my post yesterday, https://www.artfullyabstractedblog.com/post/newsflash so don't be alarmed! In fact it seems like a good thing as the footfall on yesterday's article has been substantially better in a short space of time than in the 'old days'. Now go and watch Agnes Martin! Here's the link again. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_-JfYjmo5OA&t=2s Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

In November 2023, I wrote about an important series of paintings that I created during the previous year https://www.artfullyabstractedblog.com/post/manifestation The series is entitled THE MANIFESTATION QUARTET. ASPIRATION - Haydn Dickenson (2022) EMPOWERMENT - Haydn Dickenson (2022) LIBERATION - Haydn Dickenson (2022) PROPULSION - Haydn Dickenson (2022) I am delighted to report that the beginning of May 2024, just one month away, will see the opening of a roughly two-week long solo full gallery exhibition of my work at the fabulous Molasses House Gallery in Harpenden, Hertfordshire, UK. https://molasseshouse.com/ Molasses House is a dynamic, edgy gallery which has represented such diverse contemporary luminaries as Jeff Koons, Ai Wei Wei, Mr Brainwash and Damien Hirst. The exhibition, in which I will be presented simply by the moniker HAYDN, will consist of around twenty original works of varying sizes. Some will be displayed already framed, and the rest will be offered for sale with with framing options factored into the price. All work in the exhibition will be for sale. Finance is available on all purchases. Ahead of the show, two works from the MANIFESTATION QUARTET will be displayed in the window of Molasses House, from Saturday 6th April – yes, that's in just two days' time! The remainder will be included in the main exhibition. To discover which paintings these are, you will need to visit the Gallery at 3 Station Road, Harpenden, Hertfordshire, UK, AL5 4SA! Please see Molasses House link above for opening times. These paintings will be for sale immediately from that date, 6th April. There will be an opening night for the exhibition – date to be advised, so watch this space and look out for an emailed newsletter. The launch night will be by invitation only, so please contact me if you are interested in attending. Thank you all for your support. Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

In 2021, I produced an oil painting entitled WITHOUT END. It represented, to a degree, a new departure from the approach I was currently taking to my work. The piece is deceptively geometric ('geometric' is a term that I do not approve when attached to my work) in that it might appear starkly linear but, in fact, many of its lines are anything but straight. It also contains areas of diffuse, scrubby colour, as if it is unfinished in some way. It is 'Without End'. The above painting can be viewed at https://www.iologies.com/copy-of-originals where the original can be purchased, as can high quality Fine Art Prints of the piece at, of course, a small fraction of the cost of the original. It is not only for the purpose of promoting this picture that I have entitled today's article WITHOUT END. Over the weekend, a friend in Germany told me of her visit to Munich to see the famous 'Endless Staircase'. Entitled UMSCHREIBUNG, meaning circumscription or periphrasis, the staircase is a towering, magnificent, ethereal installation within the courtyard of a Munich office complex. It was completed by the artist Olafur Eliasson in 2004. https://themunichguide.de/tourist-attractions/umschreibung-munichs-endless-staircase/ Thank you to my friend, incidentally, for the stunning images that illustrate today's article. Eliasson has described the installation as “Movement without destination – a space defined by motion rather than by walls”. Some have dubbed it 'the stairway to heaven' – an all too lazy moniker, in my opinion, and certainly one that does not accord with the artist's vision of a destination-free journey. Notwithstanding the concept of something that has no end, the staircase does actually possess both a beginning and an end, for it is possible to step onto it via a small platform at the base, and to alight by the same means after one has traversed the structure. Apparently the public is allowed to make a traversal on occasions, though this is rare and my friend was not able to do so last week. Maybe this is a statement in itself... The philosophical point of view, however, of embarking on a journey and returning to the point of departure is deeply stimulated by a contemplation of Eliasson's work. Not least, UMSCHREIBUNG leads us to a Jungian contemplation of 'Circumambulation' – walking around the self. Regular readers will know of my interest in Jungian psychology, about which I wrote in its relationship to art here https://www.artfullyabstractedblog.com/post/art-as-a-mirror-jungian-symbolism-in-abstract-painting . Carl Jung believed, via his fascination with the Mandala (Sanskrit:Magic Circle) that all paths in life lead to a mid-point which is the core of the Self. There is surely something Mandala-like about Olafur Eliasson's lofty, never-ending staircase. I have been speaking in recent days with another friend, an artist, about the journey that we all take in our creative lives. I am fortunate to have such friends as both of those mentioned today, who stimulate in me thought and reflection on life as well as art. In the latter case, my friend was explaining to me some encouragement that she had received, from a collector of her work, to diversify somewhat in her painting style, and I sensed that this was both exciting and daunting to her. We spoke about the matter at some length. I mentioned that my approach to my own work vacillates according to mood, circumstances, time of year and so on while retaining, I believe and hope, a solid stylistic core. I advised my friend, whatever path she explores in her style and the media she employs, to stay true to herself in the way she makes marks; once again, reflecting on UMSCHREIBUNG, there seems to be a message in this installation, so full of calm truth and stillness, that we will always return to the point at which our essence truly speaks and sings. As in art, so in Life. The cycle is not an aimless one, but one of continual renewal and rebirth, refreshing but familiar. Perhaps we can hop off from the little platform on Eliasson's stairs for a pit-stop, a grazing moment if you will, before rejoining that glorious cycle of birth, life, learning and reincarnation. Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024