The Beat of our HeART- San Diego ArtBeat
by Luellen Smiley

Luellen Smiley is a freelance Creative Nonfiction Writer, columnist, and Public Relations Consultant for Galerie D' Art  International in Solana Beach. Her weekly column appears in the Del Mar Times.  She can be reached by Email or her website www.smileys-dice.biz

ARCHIVED Beat of our HeART

 
 The throw of the dice this week falls on “ordinary things made beautiful to use in daily life” - the words of Martha Ehringer, public relations director of the Mingei International Museum.Ehringer’s interest commenced with preserving quilts as an adolescent in Michigan. Today, her passion is budding as we walk the corridors of the museum and she directs my attention to the origin and significance of the collections.  
 
       “It’s easy to talk about things you love,” said Ehringer. If you live in San Diego, and have not been to the Mingei, then you need to know what it means. Mingei preserves the art of the people. Dr. Soetsu Yanagi adopted the concept, from the Japanese words, min (all people) and gei (art). He
plucked the undiscovered craftsman out of the darkness, and brought light to pre-industrial objects of daily life.The Mingei International Museum (a second extension opened in Escondido) was founded by the supernatural prowess of Martha Longenecker. The Mingei began as a vision she spawned while traveling the world on a sabbatical. Her story is of cinematic proportion, and much too lengthy for a column.Last week I spent an afternoon viewing extraordinary objects sheltered and forever protected by the Mingei: Kazuo Kadonaga’s “Elemental Materials in Contemporary Art” exhibition of molten glass sculptures, carved wood benches, and bamboo. Fifteen-foot bamboo sprawled one wall seemingly placed without reinforcement, and stacks of feather light handmade paper juxtaposed against the block of compressed paper are ordinary things made beautiful.In the next wing, I slouched towards “The Art of Woodworking,” selected from the International collection, and finally the suspended “Elemental Art of the Indonesian Archipelago,” architectural ornaments, mobiles, ritual masks, and figures. I traced the map of the islands on the wall, and at that moment, I etched a travel log. The exhibits set off my wanderlust. That is what can happen in a museum of international collections.

Across the street, beyond the Niki De Saint Phalle statue, my eye turned on the Museum of Photographic Arts. At first glance, you meet the haunting eyes of the “Afghan Girl,” shot by Steve McCurry for National Geographic in 1985. Beyond her, his exhibition, “Photographs of Asia.” More wanderlust set in as I studied real scenes from everyday life made beautiful by its creator. I learned of the Golden Rock in Kyaikto, and how it is balanced in space by a single thread of hair from the Buddha’s head. I added that to my travel log, and from there I wandered through the blistering desert of Tora Bora, and Quandahar, shot from a camera that captured the peace instead of the war. The documentary photographs of children too young to be old, and women huddled together against a murderous sandstorm grasp your awareness beyond the museum walls. I jotted down the names of the places I wanted to see: Tibet, Jodhpur, Kandze, Kham, the Jokhang Temple and Burma.

The Mingei exhibit flowed into McCurry’s exhibit, like chapter one and chapter two. The next wing of the museum elicited more visual fancy in “Snapshot Photographs,” taken from the private collections of John Neyenesch and Jim Nocito. The display clicks through ordinary scenes made beautiful from everyday life in the fab forties and post modern fifties.In one afternoon, I traveled the entire continent from the 12th century to present day in one pair of shoes.

I stopped by the San Diego Museum of Art only briefly because it is in between exhibitions. On July 16, Maxfield Parrish, “The Master of Make Believe” opens. Back in high school, Maxfield models were my fashion icons. This should be an illumination of romantic fantasy for any Parrish purveyor.

Saturday night Soaring Crow and I returned to the Mingei for the member’s reception celebrating “Ningyo, The Art of the Japanese Doll.” Within moments of entering the museum, I centered myself in front of the display cases, and met the Ningyo. Even if you’re a dude, the dolls may unearth some mysterious connection to the Japanese stories they represent. The museum was packed with well-traveled collectors and museum members engaged in exchanging stories, about their travels, and again I felt my pulse burn
f
or wanderlust. The dolls in Japan bear the spirits of the sender. Each one conveys a legendary story, which is transmitted when the doll is presented to the receiver. This is the first exhibition in the United States, and it covers a two-and-a-half century period of Japanese life and culture. Eager for more, I stepped into the lecture hall to hear Alan Pate, Curator and East Asian scholar speak and show slides of the exhibition. This feast of higher education, international travel, and history culminated with a roaring of applause because Alan is a witty entertaining scholar.

We left the museum lost in our own translations of the exhibitions. The art of visiting museums is that they make ordinary people imagine extraordinary things. The Ningyo exhibit runs through Jan 8, 2006; www.mingei.org.
August is “Arouse your Art Interest month.” For more information log onto the www.sdvisualarts.net/Arouse.htm
.

An Evening of Fine Art
and Bejeweled Memories

Luellen Smiley

June 26, 2005
The throw of the dice this week lands on a little girl with jewels on her sandals. How I ended up in the home where I met the little girl with the jeweled sandals and the home of Laurie and Brent Woods is by the way of the column. When an invitation is addressed to me, the writer, my intention is to find a story. This week, an invitation came from the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego, Contemporary Collectors. They are a "premier donor group" of the museum. They have a divine interest in collecting art, supporting the museum, and passing on the addiction. The Progressive Party began on a peak of Point Loma I'd never seen before. If you take Talbot Street and wind up the hill, you'll find the view I'm speaking of. So now, we are entering the home of Frank and Linnea Arrington. They invited the collectors to muse over their modern art collection, dine al fresco, and more importantly, look over the design of the Joan and Irwin Jacobs and David C. Copley expansion buildings downtown. The building will open in 2007. This is the area of downtown that will draw the art crowds, as it will draw new galleries, art shows, openings, art walk and talk and maybe a new column in the newspaper. The Arrington home is pencil sharp modern, thick in the clarity of white on white and no end to light. Soaring Crow and I sat on the bluff of their front yard, and filled ourselves on a view of east and South San Diego and beyond the border. We drank wine, and sampled exotic combinations of Asian and Japanese fare from Pamplemousse Grill. SC went for seconds, and I tried to mingle, but the view wouldn't let go of me. If I lived in that house, I would never get anything done but daydreaming. SC and I were enjoying our scale of the world, when a man and woman approached the table.
       "May we join you?" I knew who he was before his eyes met mine, I blurted out,
       "I know you!"  It was sudden and the impact showed on his face. "James Robbins," I shouted. He stared at me, leaned closer and half guessing replied,
       "Luellen Smiley?" We immediately lapsed into a memorial for the characters that played a part in the story we shared. Back then, I was marketing and leasing director for a Chicago based real estate investment firm. I was in charge of leasing their office building in La Jolla, and James was our space planner. SC had known James, so no introduction was needed. It was so long ago; it was when I made a good living doing something I really loved, and in the process annoyed everyone around me. Today, James Robbins is the principal architect of Robbins, Jorgensen, Christopher. When I met James, he was just starting, and in his own words, "She gave me work when I didn't have any." This made me smile. Today James has 26 design awards behind him, served as President of the AIA San Diego, and pockets a long record of service to San Diego and historic architecture. Just as soon as we stopped talking old history, Deborah Owen, the woman with James, said she was sure she recognized me from somewhere. We exchanged careers, and past digs and discovered that we were downtown neighbors during the early '90s. As we were leaving the Arrington's home and heading over to the Wood's home, Deborah revealed her birthplace. She was a Bel Air/ Brentwood child too. Even crazier, she knew about the Jonathan Club in Santa Monica that we belonged to. Deborah reminded me that the club did not permit Jewish society. My father must have made them an offer they couldn't refuse.

The Collectors party moved on to Laurie and Brent Wood's home in Mission Hills. This house settled in the ground in 1911. The Wood's have remodeled it to conveniencize their modern lifestyle with the house. It's as if someone sculpted away part of the early 1900s and added early 2000, and there you have chic-cozy. Now we come to the little girl and her jeweled sandals. We joined a group of people in the living room, fingering homemade chocolate truffles, when a little girl came up to us with a platter of flaky pastries tipped the tray towards us and beamed up a smile. I didn't want her to leave, and then I noticed her shoes. She was wearing sandals laced on a string of jewels. I remarked how beautiful they were, and she smiled again. Once upon a time, I was that little girl, moving my half-sized body through a crowd of adult party guests in our living room. I remembered how strange it all seemed, and how important it was that I wear my best outfit and my best shoes. Back then; it was patent leather Mary Janes. Maybe she'll forget that night and her jeweled sandals, as I've forgotten too many nearly perfect moments in my childhood. It's always
annoyed me the some of the best lines, and quips came to me when I was too young to remember them.

The evening continued with conversations that swept by in terraced alcoves overlooking the pool, and on the stairway leading to the second floor. I peeked into the little girl's bedroom, and even thought about writing a note about how beautiful she was. Then maybe she'd remember that night. One day she would tell her parent's about the note, and they would never know who wrote it. Just as we were leaving the warmth of the kitchen, I recognized another face. It was a long time ago, and we only went out a few times. He looked the same only whiter and I looked the same only lighter.

In one evening, the Collectors Progressive Party transported me through a lifetime of memories, and made me appreciate the new ones. If you want more information on the Start Up, Contemporary or International Collectors, contact Synthia Malina at smalina@mcasd.org.email: folliesls@aol.com
.

OLD GLOBE CELEBRATES LOVE VAN GOGH STYLE 
Luellen Smiley
May 8, 2005


The throw of the dice this week falls on VINCENT IN BRIXTON . This is a story, loosely based on fact, of a woman Van Gogh fell in love with in London. According to art historians, reviews, and press releases, we do not know if Vincent fell in love with an English widow, or her daughter. Now that I’ve clarified that, go see the play; this is the last weekend. It is masterfully staged, performed and directed at the Cassius Carter Centre stage in Balboa Park.

The facts about who van Gogh fell in love with, how her love affected his sexuality, and his madness, are unknown. There is no record to validate the synopsis. Nicholas Wright, the playwright, jumped into this territory, and with his own brush and canvas created a drama with imaginary strokes. Who cares who Vincent was in love with; the subject of the play is the enactment of sexual love. Furthermore, the subject tranquilized the audience all through Act One, as if a mist of Valium was sprayed over the theater. I couldn’t find one twitch during the slow tormented loosening of Ursula’s restrained sexuality. Old Globe stage actress Robin Pearson Rose is Ursula; she embodies the lifeless widow mechanically moving from the kitchen stove, to the pantry, to the table, preparing Sunday dinner for her daughter and her new boarder, Vincent van Gogh. Graham Hamilton, an actor I had a chance to meet last year and interview, plays Vincent. His character makes demands on Graham that illuminate a rapid fluctuation between timidness, passion, Dutch honesty and restraint. Graham juggles all of these emotions, and inflames the compressed passion buried deep within the widow. The passages that draw us into Ursula’s mournful soul are exorcised by the gentle and insightful artist. Van Gogh plows through her barriers, like a farmer digging for fertile soil. When he finds her heart, he says the most beautiful line of the play: “A woman is never old who has love and can be loved.”
I felt more for Ursula than Vincent, maybe because I am a woman and not an art historian.

The supporting actors are played by Old Globe USD MFA graduates Caitlin Muelder as Anna van Gogh, Kate Steele as Eugenie Loyer, Ursula’s daughter, and Ross Hellwig as Sam Plowman, the other boarder of the house. Richard Seer, the director, has directed the Globe University of San Diego MFA program since 1993. I interviewed him last year for a magazine feature, which remains unpublished. The interview was a great adventure, as was learning about the Old Globe’s training: coaching, rehearsals, literature, speech therapy, yoga classes, and productions. If I had a chance to start over at age 20, I would apply to the program.

VINCENT IN BRIXTON is an awakening for all of us who struggle with love. Not everyone is lucky enough to be as temperamental, stubborn and solitary as to think we can live without intense love. The play inspired me to research van Gogh on the Internet. This is an excerpt written by van Gogh’s long time friend, and painter, Emile Bernard, about van Gogh’s funeral. I found it to be as sensitively written and reflective as the play:

“On the walls of the room where his body was laid out, all his last canvases were hung making a sort of halo for him and the brilliance of the genius that radiated from them. It made this death even more painful for us artists who were there. The coffin was covered with a simple white cloth and surrounded with masses of flowers, the sunflowers that he loved so much, yellow dahlias, yellow flowers everywhere. It was, you will remember, his favorite color, the symbol of the light that he dreamed of being in people’s hearts as well as in works of art.”  Vincent van Gogh is remembered on stage not for the love of one woman, but for the love within his own heart that was never fulfilled.

The Old Globe is celebrating Craig Noel’s 90th Birthday on August 25 with a special dinner in his honor on the Old Globe Stage. I hope I’ll be there to write about it.  e-mail: folliesls@aol.com.
If you missed the FEDERICO FELLINI FILM FESTIVAL at Galerie D' Art International; get on the mailing list for summer events. The opening was a film on it's own. e-mail: galartint@sbcglobal.net, or call: 858-793-0316.
 

Look for other topics in the SmART Collector

For more information contact info@SDVisualArts.net


Copyright 2004. All Rights Reserved
This site is hosted by T.S. Wilson who donated the webspace