In recent years I have been looking back at various artists who have influenced my work in one way or another during my career, and studying their paintings by incorporating one into one of my own compositions. It is now time for Matisse. I first starting looking seriously at the paintings of Matisse on a trip to Russia in 1987. I was with my husband, who was a foreign correspondent. He was reporting on stories in Moscow and Leningrad, so I took the opportunity to go along and visit the Hermitage Museum. To my amazement, among the incredible collection there were a large number of Matisses -- none of which I had ever seen, even in books. You have to remember, back then St. Petersburg was still called Leningrad, the Communist Party still ran the Soviet Union, and the number of Western visitors to the Hermitage and exchanges of paintings between Russia and the West paled compared with today. One of the paintings was The Dance, which was commissioned by the Russian collector Shchukin, who asked Matisse to paint a second version of the one that hangs in the Museum of Modern Art in New York. The panel that Matisse did for Shchukin depicted the figures more robust and muscular, less graceful and in a strong orange-red color, whereas the figures in the painting in MOMA (which is the version I loosely copied in my painting), are lithe, simply drawn and lighter in hue, and the entire painting is imbibed with an airiness and lyricism. The Dance was deceptively hard to copy, which says a lot about the simple shapes and elegant line which is the beauty and magic of Matisse.
"Dance", oil on linen, 36" x 48"
My painting "Dance" is another in my ongoing series called Animal Dreams, in which I am creating dreamlike sanctuaries for creatures that are threatened in the real world. In my Dance, a cellist is performing in the foreground with his loyal Foxhound and a hat set out on a chair for donations. There is a forest outside and a supernatural light pours through the window, casting a swathe of light across the Matisse. The music and the warm light attract a family of foxes who, inspired by the dancers on the wall, form a dance circle of their own. I chose the musician to play a cello because the shape of the cello and the case echo the shapes of Matisse's dancers, and because I love cello music and often listen to it while I work. I recently read Fox 8 an exquisite and powerful little book by George Saunders about a fox who is the daydreamer in his pack and teaches himself how to understand "Yuman" by hiding in the bushes outside a home and listening to children's bedtime stories. The power of this knowledge leads him to learn that the habitat of his pack is in impending doom from developers who are clearcutting the forest and building a shopping mall. This book in a microcosm shows the way urban sprawl is affecting wildlife and even causing the extinction of some species. In my own neighborhood I see foxes on a daily basis and strangely, since I have been working on Dance a large, beautiful red fox has been keeping a close eye on me and my dogs. I make a point of nodding to him in appreciation that he is there.
The Dance at the Hermitage
The Dance at MOMA
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