The Best of Times

One day I just went inside and never got out till now.
At least that was the plan, and I was eager to try, following the model of the Chinese city of Wuhan where people were forced to stay indoors for over two months. I am used to stay in - some days I need to kick myself in the *** to go out for some exercise, see the sun, meet people.
On the last meeting at Hapina Cafe, knowing that the virus was raging, a group of friends discussed the possibility of self-quarantine and we all agreed that as artists, we'd have no problem to stay home for two weeks.
So in I went and then began producing, one by one, all that was on my to-do list. But occasionally I did go out, not only because it was allowed but, because I prefer buying fresh, because I thought it's not necessary to act just out of fear.
At intervals I was making small works from my balcony and window.

Then I got busy with an old theme. This imaginary statue I placed  in Khayat Orchard, promising that it would guard and save us from disease and other misfortune.

Now after a second lockdown, life returns gradually, not too soon I hope. Life cannot be stopped: I have been creating grim images of looming disaster (that's one way to look at it) but also cheerful colorful scenes of the life I left behind hoping to return to it one day, or not.

New York is calling twice a week; my friend in Yonkers, who kept telling me that I should come visit, realizes now that it will be a while before such a possibility presents itself. But if that's really the case, if the old ways are gone not to come back, ever, I think we'll all adapt, and see what IS there, because a new world emerges from the ruins of the old one. We're still here, and living in interesting times.

Oil and Water

Yes yes, do you hear the music playing?






pictures from opening night, and just an ordinary day at Hapina with my paintings all around

Better late than never - you are cordially invited to my new exhibition at the Corner Cafe (Hapina).  It will be on for another two weeks and change. Oil and Water just means the medium, in the most literal sense. No drawings, no markers.
It's already the second time I exhibit there, and I take it ever so lightly as I should a show in a cafe.
I had my share of gallery and museum shows in the past year, and why not go back to the one and only gallery in Haifa (well, sort of), now that they closed Gate 3 for good - oh, so sad.
Cafe Hapina, old faithful, still has Yair host the Tuesday night jazz event as well as a new initiative by Omer Ben David - also a jazz musician - called Jam Night. It is usually every other Thursday, people gather from all around and you never know what's going to happen, though after a while I noticed they too have an inclination towards well-known (yet well played) standards.
Jam night is using my drawings for the FB event cover photo. I must have become nearly official in sketching regularly at jazz nights - and other times - in this cafe.

So now I am making an oil painting using these last few sketches I made. The music it sweet in my veins and lifts me up and definitely contributes to the success of a sketch. I hope the painting is as good as some of these.

Some Light on the Matter

Oil on canvas,  55x70 cm, 2017

A few weeks ago I changed all the lights in my (rented) apartment. It used to be an office (lawyers), and then I moved in and the office moved out, but not entirely: there was an office ceiling with neon lights and not-so-pretty panels. On top of it, those neon lights strated to flicker and I had to remove most of them. There was simply not enough light.
Until recently, that is.
This is then and now:

As you can see, this is enough to work with. Enough of waking up in the morning and finding out that I did something terrible with the colors last night. ---

Crane, oil and scratching on panel, 38 cm, 2018

The light playing its special effects in the world around me usually stops me in my tracks. A dark corridor permeated by soft afternoon light can bring me to tears, as was the case with the abandoned villa in Italy in the image on top of the post. I found out that the way I treat light in my painting is typical,  full of feeling and awe.

In the work right above, I used the effect of light of the full moon with cloudy skies to enhance a dramatic feeling.

Forest, oil on canvas,  81x170 cm, 2013

Nature creates a rich light performance with foliage. Below some other examples.

Khayat Orchard, oil on canvas, 25x25 cm, 2016

Yard in Pennsylvania, markers on paper, 17x25 cm, 2017

Here, I used negative forms and turned the darkness into light by painfully scratching away paint.

Horsemen of the Apocalypse, oil and scratching on plywood, 53x73 cm, 2018

Khayat Orchard and Cat of the Imagination, oil and scratching on panel, 37 cm, 2018

Artificial light makes weird colors at night.

The Gate, oil on canvas, 50x70 cm, 2017

Interiors have a softened quality, indirect light usually coming from the side. It's very sunny outside.

Eyal, watercolor, 28x20 cm,  2018

I started painting this crane in bright daylight and somehow these negative forms emerged. 

Crane, watercolor, 27x16 cm, 2018

Drenched in blinding mediterranean summer sun:

On the Balcony, markers on paper, 28x22 cm, 2018

Jazz at the Corner

Fall colors on the balcony
markers

What do you know, summer is so much history by now, I'm all wrapped up and ready for the strange cold winter. Because it's not really winter, we forget how cold it can actually be.

In February I will have an exhibition in a gallery, and I still don't know what works will be shown. the idea is probably just to present myself to the public rather than choosing a theme, which is alright by me.

Khayat Orchard, oil on wood


Khayat Orchard, oil on wood

A lot of ideas are zooming in my head and not enough time and energy to perform. But I do manage to do some work. Recently I got into the habit of drawing the musicians in Cafe Hapina ("Corner Cafe") - where I had my "Khayat Orchard" solo exhibition two years ago.  They have jazz every Tuesday. The regular show belongs to Yair Loewenson, who hosts different musicians every week. 

The rest is silence. I have one or two surprises up my sleeve. Just wait a while longer.

An Orchard Rising

From one show to another, I almost played three games at once (but two is more than enough).
Two months ago, two exhibitions opened in Haifa: my little solo show at Hapina Cafe, titled "The Gateway to Lower Paradise", and the grand-grand-over-anticipated-exciting-event-of-the-year "Bustan Khayat" (Khayat Orchard), in two parts - one  at Haifa City Museum,  and one that showed more of the arty stuff, at Bet Hagefen Gallery.

I didn't take any pictures from Hapina Cafe opening because I was too busy drowning in the sea of people that just kept on coming - but it was a very happy occasion. Literally the whole neighborhood swarmed in.
I managed to hang 30  works, most of them small marker drawings; I was really surprised when the Haifa Museum, in a Facebook post, recommended my exhibition, most of which was indeed about Khayat Orchard.

The opening at Bet Hagefen was something else entirely. 35 artists, a huge crowd numbering hundreds of people, according to some. Eyal Friedlander, a kind of host and one of the curators, was glowing all over. It was his big time. Hopefully something good may come out of all this. Eyal is a wonder, he started working there on his own and later with volunteers and still keeps the place together, deeply involved with it. If the city had any sense, he would have been commissioned there as warden/gardener. Here in a painting by Hila Sali.

The tigers were represented by some paintings and drawings, some shown in previous posts, and this oil 60x90 cm that was completed only two days before the curators came to my studio. It is part of the graffiti series.

My large wooden circle raised some attention, shown by most publications and TV shows who talked about us at all. Below, Pnina Beagetz, a painter friend,  and myself under the image. Photo taken by Efrat Peleg - another gifted artist.

Beautiful places are sometimes man-made and sometimes just places of great natural beauty. Because we lack breathtaking natural vistas within a walking distance, we settle for more humble places. Anyway one sees beauty not through the eyes of the flesh, but with the heart.

Under Glass

Recently I have been framing my own artwork, and following advice from someone I bought the wood from, I decided to cut my own glass - which would save me money in the long run. I had in mind about 40 small to medium frames.
Cutting glass works like magic once you get the right tools. It is incredibly easy and I have a small obsession with the whole issue now.
You probably haven't heard, :) but I sold a painting earlier this year in an exhibition in Gate 3 - this painting:

It's oil on acrylic glass 45x110 cm. I made 3 in the series, this is the second of 3 panorama paintings of my back yard.
This one is the first (and favorite).

Most people liked it because of the transparency, I am sure. A lot of people came to tell me they liked it; eventually when someone bought it I wasn't there, and they just called me from the gallery to let me know.
I too like transparent, and the new glass madness is overwhelming. First of all, the feeling of having conquered a certain fear; the sound of the cutter scratching; the fragile, subtle and yet cruel properties, the weight and feel of the material; and I can tell glass likes me, because I keep finding it everywhere now. Sometimes it is too thick to frame with and then I use it as paperweight, or to cut paper on. (This is my first cut glass - a crooked shot, but a straight piece)

Last week I took a break from framing and went to the Khayat Orchard to unwind and sketch a little. A friend who went with me made a wonderful watercolor I wish I had taken a photo of. And I made these three marker drawings.
 And then went home and framed them one by one.

 

After the curator for the Cafe Hapina exhibition picked the works, I felt free to resume my work in oil, which I have been neglecting for a while in favor of framing. Lately I have been experimenting a bit, taking for instance my marker drawings as basis for larger works in oil, sometimes using 3-4 drawings for one oil painting.
This is the first experiment, oil on wood 21x88 cm. I love these unusual proportions, just like the acrylic glass earlier. I just found the wood and it gave me an idea.

You'll get to see my frames when I report from the exhibition in a month or so.