An Exhibition of Shields, Amulets, Thresholds
Papyrus and Canvas
Opening Reception plus Artist Talk: Sunday, March 17, 2024
Beyond Baroque, Venice, California
Theater Presentation: ALEPH to DNA: The Power of Form – Artist as Scientist in a Reflective Universe, March 23rd
Closing Reception: April 28th
An Exhibition of Shields, Amulets, Thresholds, Papyrus and Canvas
Opening Reception plus Artist Talk: Sunday, March 17, 2024
Beyond Baroque, Venice, California
Theater Presentation: ALEPH to DNA: The Power of Form – Artist as Scientist in a Reflective Universe, March 23rd
Closing Reception: April 28th
Gilah Yelin Hirsch
Artist Statement
Gilah Yelin Hirsch
Artist Statement
A magical solitary residency in the High Sierras was the location and inspiration for an extraordinary ten-day painting experience. Obscured in hundreds of acres of primeval redwood forest, I lived and worked in the studio that Morris Graves built.
A sense of One-Ness, infinitely profound connection into the universe, characterized the sensation which was intensely palpable and reified as I watched the sun rise and set over the ancient hidden lake that had formed millennia ago in a crater directly in front of me.
A window-wall barely separated me from the spellbinding apparition that encouraged psychic entrance into the fertile primordial habitat. When sun reflected in lake, galaxies of wind-rippled stars captivated me, while at moments, shiny striated bark of redwood and birch surrounding the lake glistened like precious jewels.
These trees would eventually decompose and fall into the immeasurable depth of the mysterious lake, pushing the ancestors down to ultimately dissolve into the magma. Tiny shoots here and there that greeted the sun above water became miniature Bonsai islands of sprouting branches on the surface. When the water was still and transparent, I could see most recent strata of trees below, crafting a giant’s redwood ladder going down, down, down. From first light I was glued to the constantly changing antediluvial world revealed by light and concealed by fog, outside the wall of windows that Morris Graves built.
The spirit of the place induced a hypnotic state which led to surprising, newly evolving, non-representational, luminous, ritualistic work. Within a few days I had exhausted all small forty canvases I had brought. They seemed to paint themselves.
Hungry for more painting surface, I then unfurled the roll of papyri I had bought in Egypt years before that had languished in my studio in a flat file. I immediately saw that the grain of the papyri echoed the grain and texture of the surrounding trees. I followed what seemed to be otherworldly instruction and soon was painting the papyri releasing the grain by utilizing modern chemically altered iridescent, interference, transparent, and normal acrylic paint as well as copper, gold and silver leaf in many layers. The paintings seemed to be dictated. My right hand grew sore as there was no stopping this ethereal push from another world.
I left with more than 80 paintings.
I continue to use papyri along with canvas as I work in that liminal emotional space opened at the lake. The images that rise on papyri differ from those dimensional works that develop over many months in my studio on large canvases. Papyri whisper murmurations, emanations, ritualistic secrets, thresholds into age-old intimacies through chatty grains. And sometimes, they scandalously uncover themselves to be incarnated, to be visible, as they slowly rise from the deeply impenetrable, sacred world, that Morris Graves built.
………………….
Aleph to DNA: The Healing Power of Form
Artist as Scientist in a Reflective Universe
Streamed live on Mar 23, 2024 from Beyond Baroque, Venice, California
By showing a history of my paintings I present a visual chronology of the discovery process of alphabetic morphology in nature and how it correlates with and affirms various scientific, ecological, sociological, psychiatric, psychophysiological ideas and practices all moving towards the greater good. This visual one-hour multidisciplinary presentation melds the inner and outer worlds into a dialogic question – do we see because of what we think of do we think because of what we see.
Beyond Baroque is one of the United States’ leading independent Literary | Arts Centers and public spaces dedicated to expanding the public’s knowledge of poetry, literature and art through cultural events and community interaction. Founded in 1968 as an experimental literary magazine, Beyond Baroque is based out of the original City Hall building in Venice, California.
Closing Radiance
What happens when Radiance closes?
Can Radiance really Close?
Where does light go?
Where do ideas go?
Where do images go?
They are never to be found in the same way,
wanting to be animated,
desiring to live again.
Once a series of creative work is finished,
there is no going back,
no repetition.
There is a certain sadness,
post-partum grief.
One has been completely changed by
ever deepening profundity
and growing awareness.
A single series of creative works
fulfills all the stages of
a passionate love affair,
beginning to end.
There is an arc to the creative process:
A slow, shy tentative beginning,
a gradual acceleration,
a wild crescendo to a boiling, broiling zenith —
followed by a gentle swaying movement
becoming denouement.
Perhaps an echo of a refrain –
slightly recognizable threads from the beginning
weave into the last of the images;
and finally,
ultimate cessation.
A full life cycle.
I consider the word Ark/Arc, homonyms both in English and Hebrew (Teyva – so close to the Hebrew word for Nature, Teva) –
Teyva the same word for Noah’s ark – a very large ark,
and for Moses’ floating basket –
a very small ark.
Creative people often fear the time after a dynamic creative burst.
They worry that they have exhausted their creativity.
They may experience what is called writer’s or painter’s – or simply creative block for varying lengths of time.
Some say resting is rusting.
Instead, consider the two meanings of the Hebrew word,
Morah – which means both Terror and Wonder.
The root of the word is light. Or.
Light never entirely disappears.
The in-between time is a gift to the creative process —-
Percolation
Stewing
Loading experience, feelings.
Coincidentally there have been:
40 days between Radiance opening and closing:
40 days, a Biblical number in both Testaments,
mentioned 146 or 149 times depending on translation.
Each reference is about momentous events of
testing, trials and triumphs – intense wild ride.
40 days – Noah and the Flood
40 days – Children of Israel in the desert –
40 days – Moses on Mt Sinai
and so many more.
We are grateful for the in the in-between time when ideas and images synthesize from constellations of experiences.
And dreams:
Feed the Dog
I dreamed that I was standing outside Freud’s consulting room which I had visited on various occasions in Vienna. It was as if I was looking from outside through a window into the inside of the room.
I saw it fully orchestrated with archaeological and cultural sculptures and images, archetypes, heroes and muses of all sorts; and oriental rugs on the floor and on the couch of transcendence.
My beloved great, very large black Doberman, an unusually wise and intelligent dog called Beaureguard, who died in the early 1990’s, was sitting in the middle of the room. He was facing right, sideways on his hind legs, front right paw straight upright in front of him on the colorful rug in the middle of the room. The famous couch was behind him. Beau was holding a full-sized beautifully carved black pipe in his left front raised paw and stared at me intently.
He pointed to me with his right front paw, and said softly yet accusingly,
“You have not fed me in 20 years.”
I awoke, shocked, not by the image of the dog speaking to me, but by the content of his message. Beau had been born with a serious hormonal illness that came to light in his first year. It was clear that he needed medications for the rest of his life and that he could only eat boiled white rice three times a day. I was dedicated to caring for this special dog, which meant that I would not leave him to travel during his remaining eight years.
He was the most cared for animal friend I ever had. Why did he accuse me of neglect?
I suddenly realized why –
when the dog becomes the shrink,
the dog parent –
becomes the patient.
I had been unrelentingly extremely busy for at least 20 years with all sorts of consuming events – teaching, exhibitions, projects, publications, films, presentations, travels that had required complete attention and infinite energy. I was exhausted, had not “fed” myself in all those years. It was time to take care of myself.
I often remember that dream.
I have a post-it note over my desk:
Feed the Dog!
Something we should all consider.
It’s been a very busy 40 days.
The season has changed.
Percolation continues, but not as furiously.
Order returns as lists of tasks are shortened.
I know that first strokes are due in tandem with the
blooming of the first water lily of the season in my pond.
I begin to think of painting again – it’s been such a long hiatus as my focus has been about my paintings rather than on the act of painting. I am excited about what may emerge, but somewhat worried that I will be dropping my guard and yielding to another creative love affair. Yet, I am certain that I will soon be lured to dip into the mysteries of the unknown which begin to call my attention.
Closing Radiance
What happens when Radiance closes?
Can Radiance really Close?
Where does light go?
Where do ideas go?
Where do images go?
They are never to be found in the same way, wanting to be animated, desiring to live again.
Once a series of creative work is finished, there is no going back, no repetition.
There is a certain sadness, post-partum grief. One has been completely changed by ever deepening profundity and growing awareness.
A single series of creative works fulfills all the stages of a passionate love affair, beginning to end.
There is an arc to the creative process:
A slow, shy tentative beginning, a gradual acceleration, a wild crescendo to a boiling, broiling zenith — followed by a gentle swaying movement becoming denouement.
Perhaps an echo of a refrain – slightly recognizable threads from the beginning weave into the last of the images; and finally, ultimate cessation.
A full life cycle.
I consider the word Ark/Arc, homonyms both in English and Hebrew (Teyva – so close to the Hebrew word for Nature, Teva) – Teyva the same word for Noah’s ark – a very large ark, and for Moses’ floating basket – a very small ark.
Creative people often fear the time after a dynamic creative burst.
They worry that they have exhausted their creativity.
They may experience what is called writer’s or painter’s – or simply creative block for varying lengths of time.
Some say resting is rusting.
Instead, consider the two meanings of the Hebrew word, Morah – which means both Terror and Wonder.
The root of the word is light. Or.
Light never entirely disappears.
The in-between time is a gift to the creative process —
Percolation
Stewing
Loading experience, feelings.
Coincidentally there have been:
40 days between Radiance opening and closing:
40 days, a Biblical number in both Testaments, mentioned 146 or 149 times depending on translation.
Each reference is about momentous events of testing, trials and triumphs – intense wild ride.
40 days – Noah and the Flood
40 days – Children of Israel in the desert –
40 days – Moses on Mt Sinai and so many more.
We are grateful for the in the in-between time when ideas and images synthesize from constellations of experiences.
And dreams:
Feed the Dog
I dreamed that I was standing outside Freud’s consulting room which I had visited on various occasions in Vienna. It was as if I was looking from outside through a window into the inside of the room.
I saw it fully orchestrated with archaeological and cultural sculptures and images, archetypes, heroes and muses of all sorts; and oriental rugs on the floor and on the couch of transcendence.
My beloved great, very large black Doberman, an unusually wise and intelligent dog called Beaureguard, who died in the early 1990’s, was sitting in the middle of the room. He was facing right, sideways on his hind legs, front right paw straight upright in front of him on the colorful rug in the middle of the room. The famous couch was behind him. Beau was holding a full-sized beautifully carved black pipe in his left front raised paw and stared at me intently.
He pointed to me with his right front paw, and said softly yet accusingly,
“You have not fed me in 20 years.”
I awoke, shocked, not by the image of the dog speaking to me, but by the content of his message. Beau had been born with a serious hormonal illness that came to light in his first year. It was clear that he needed medications for the rest of his life and that he could only eat boiled white rice three times a day. I was dedicated to caring for this special dog, which meant that I would not leave him to travel during his remaining eight years.
He was the most cared for animal friend I ever had. Why did he accuse me of neglect?
I suddenly realized why – when the dog becomes the shrink, the dog parent – becomes the patient.
I had been unrelentingly extremely busy for at least 20 years with all sorts of consuming events – teaching, exhibitions, projects, publications, films, presentations, travels that had required complete attention and infinite energy. I was exhausted, had not “fed” myself in all those years. It was time to take care of myself.
I often remember that dream. I have a post-it note over my desk: Feed the Dog!
Something we should all consider.
It’s been a very busy 40 days.
The season has changed.
Percolation continues, but not as furiously.
Order returns as lists of tasks are shortened.
I know that first strokes are due in tandem with the blooming of the first water lily of the season in my pond.
I begin to think of painting again – it’s been such a long hiatus as my focus has been about my paintings rather than on the act of painting. I am excited about what may emerge, but somewhat worried that I will be dropping my guard and yielding to another creative love affair. Yet, I am certain that I will soon be lured to dip into the mysteries of the unknown which begin to call my attention.