"Newberry's work speaks to the senses, the intellect, and the passions of those who do not need the judgment of history to tell them what is great, but who can themselves make the judgment of history today." Stephen Hicks, Ph.D., Professor of Philosophy
Using color theory of cool shadows and warm highlights, I corrected this student’s painting. The student got stills with instructions of the steps, here it is simply a time-lapse. Shadows and distance are often either cool or warm, cool shadows imply a cool background. It works. I did about 12 steps, cooling up the background and shadows. For example, on the lips, I changed the blood-red shadows to violet, red+blue=violet. Then I softened the edges where there was a strong line between shadows and highlights, they always need a middle tone dividing them. Then I finished with the light using a light peach, light orange or peach is the opposite of blue — Warm light, cool shadows. I hope this is useful to you.
My heart goes out to everyone right now, and I know for many of you it is hard, can’t work and don’t feel too inspired right now. But if you have some art project laying around untouched or a future project you have thought about I can help you and reconnect you to our primal art roots. Tap your potential and connect the dots of emotion, mind, and senses — it is one of the most healthy mental things you can do.
We work with email, messenger, and phone. You get understanding, nudging, and homework. Send me an email, mtnewberry@gmail.com, show me some of your works, and we can take it from there. Modest sliding rates, I really want to help.
Horses Heads, Venus of Willendorf, and Lion Man, 40-35,000 BC
I hope everyone is doing okay in these early stages of quarantining. Heartbreaking. Around the start of it I came up with the concept to write this book on aesthetics. I am dividing my time painting, writing the book, and, it seems, washing dishes.
I am writing my first book: Evolution Through Art. I have written the Introduction, and the first two chapters, about 4,000 words. Good early reports back from my copy editor who is a rhetorician! It is a story of how art plays the leading role in our evolution. It is a journey of profound respect and gratitude to the evolutionary artists that had the minds, substance, and courage to follow their truth. Often they fought against tremendous opposition from practical reality, their own arguments, peer pressure, philosophies, religions, and psychologically-impotent sadistic authorities!
My friend, philosopher, Stephen Hicks is in Australia now lecturing and debating. On a break, he visited sculptor Peter Schipperheyn. I am envious. : ) Below is his post about the visit:
In Melbourne, I met Peter Schipperheyn, creator of the magnificent Thus Spake Zarathustra. The monumental piece is at the McClelland Sculpture Park near Mornington. The tension running through Zarathustra’s bowed body as he reaches and affirms his decision is powerful.
Willendorf Venus c. 28,000 BCE – 25,000 BCE Discovere 1908 near Willendorf, by Josef Szombathy, Naturhistorisches Museum, Vienna, Austria
I have been thinking about writing an art book filled with stories, anecdotes, speculation on prehistorical art, real life experiences, and the knowledge of what is it is like to strive for the sublime. Today I started with the title and listing chapter headings.
Psychological Aesthetics and the Exciting Fight to Evolve: Beyond Obstacles, Malevolence, and Ignorance
Chapters
Leaving One’s Mark: Taming Powerful Animals Through Capturing Them In Art
Imagining the Next Step: Willendorf Venus or I Will See You Later Tonight
Safety in Group Think, Their Fear of the Unknown and the Extent They Will Go Eradicate Evolutionary Nudges
Wisdom, Truth, and Courage Within: Calibrating Perception, Evaluation, and Emotion
To Be or Not To Be? To Break Free or to Conform?
Tears, Love, and Visibility: The Alternate Universe
The Art Instinct: What Makes Humans Unique Animals?
Art is the Power That Religion Wants: Control the Artists you Control the Mass Psyche
Art Transcends Agendas By Touching Individual Souls
Power Without Wisdom Corrupts Completely: Michelangelo in the Quarry; Postmodernist Malevolence
Life or Death: Consequences of Integrity
Freedom of the Sublime
Newberry, Where No One Has Gone Before, 2018, oil on linen, 64×46″
Just finished this. Taking a little one week break, perhaps two, from painting on Model in the Studio, I am revisiting some small plein air paintings. A departure for me is that I painted in this dog into the landscape. Artistically I love what it did to the composition, creating a “<” axis from the highlighted glimmer to the dog, then to the bottom right corner. I also love the mood of it. In the past I have rejected doing animals because humanity is at the forefront of my mind. I love my dog, Frida, and she loves me, but she doesn’t even glance at my art. :(
Some very interesting aesthetic problems with philosophical implications are the size of the subject in relation to the canvas and what that subject is. I know this sounds highbrow but bear with me, or at least indulge me to share the kind of thing I think about when painting. Most of my definitive works feature humans and their size dominates the canvas–they feature prominently in the painting’s universe. Landscapes serve well as a back drop for human activity, or when it is just a landscape there is an implication that we as humans are looking at it through a window of our beautiful home, or a view from a hike, or day at the beach. Though, if you take a naked landscape literally, with no humans present, it could imply that humankind does not exist–a very interesting rabbit hole to go down. There are also the cases of massive landscapes with tiny itty-bitty people implying that humanity is insignificant to the awesomeness of the universe. But seriously, if there are no humans or aliens, the concept of a caring or meaningful existence simply wouldn’t exist. My conclusion is that humans are top dogs when it comes to the humanities and to our psychology.
Many friends have asked me if I have painted Frida, which so far is a “no.” I just can’t bring myself to do a dog portrait (though I did one as an 18-year old for a fraternity brother as a fine art major). It feels like I would be elevating them above humanity. But with this new mini series with smally painted animals accenting the comparatively larger landscapes, it definitely feels like a massive “YES!” It makes sense to me that animals figure in our universe but do not rise up to the stature of humanities uniqueness, which art, philosophy, language, politics, and spirituality matter. So it is official!–I have lifted the animal embargo and now feel free to paint animals as long as they are tiny enough not to upsurge humanity.
Michael Newberry, Idyllwild, 3/1/2020
Please feel free to share your thoughts on this, you must have some interesting ones.
Newberry, “Lynia”, 1978, clay stage before casting, life-size. Seeing this now decades later, I love the ear, and the pensive quality of the eyes, the form of the cheekbones, the profile, and the calmness of the full mouth. I love the current of the hair flowing one way and the lines of the neck curving the other way.
“Lynia” is my first and so far only sculpture. It is dated circa 1978 maybe 1979, I would have only been 22 or 23 years old. I sculpted it at the Free Academy Psychopolis in The Hague, Holland. It was a marvelous school, no teachers! They had models everyday, all day, and they had facilities for printmaking, sculpture, and life drawing sessions. I did this as an exploration to see if I could do it. Even today, I think “wow, this is really good look at that ear!” Even more remarkable is I was never taught figure in drawing, painting, or sculpture–my 3 years of fine art at USC, didn’t teach the figure. They just left us to our own devices and played with postmodernism.
Newberry, Thodoris Archontopoulos, 1998 (unfinished), acrylic on panel, 10×8″
I met Thodoris in the Fall of 1994 in Rhodes, Greece. Incredibly smart, both an archaeologist and an art historian with a perfectionist integrity for styles, dates, and research in art. It was a huge honor that he made a presentation and wrote the review for my 1996 show at To Dentro, in Rhodes, Greece. The review was published in the Greek newspaper the Rodiaki. The show was about the creative process for large definitive works that were then works in progress. A few years later, the same show but with the completed definitive works became an international traveling exhibition “Visions” 1998 November-Athens College, Athens, Greece; August-Ministry of Greek Culture, Rhodes, Greece; July-institute for Objectivist Studies, Summer Seminar, Boulder, Colorado.
The embedded rocks and still-green tumble weeds were flying towards my tennis shoe covered feet, my outstretched hands steering my downward trajectory were being cut to slivers by the crystal rock veins lining the 40-ft ravine incline—the unexpected push and gravity created a reckless momentum that my brother hoped would be fatal. It was not.
Never turn your back on some people, or they will destroy you.
The Eyes of Rembrandt
If light could kiss this would be the most loving, achingly sensitive kinetic caress. Shadowed waves rose and glided back to the recesses, like invisible currents of air witnessing a glint of moisture and a warming pulse. This is where goodness lives. In the eyes of Rembrandt.
Myths, legends, and stories infiltrate our collective and individual consciousness, and the same holds true for the visual arts. The myth of Icarus, who flew too high then crashed and burned, was mentioned by Apollodorus around 150 BC and has since shown up countless times in visual art.
Icarus Landing, Phaethon, and Ayn Rand
An interesting twist in the legend comes with my 2000 version. The concept was inspired by Ayn Rand, who rewrote the myth of Phaethon in Atlas Shrugged. In the ancient myth, Apollo gives the reins of the sun chariot to his son Phaethon, who is unable to control the flying horses or escape his destiny. Phaethon and the chariot threaten to crash and annihilate Earth. Zeus, watching, kills Phaethon with a bolt of lightning, forcing Apollo to retake the reins and right the sun chariot’s course.
In Rand’s version, her character, Richard Halley, composes an opera in which Phaethon brilliantly succeeds to steer the sun chariot to a glorious course. I loved the concept of taking a tragic myth and changing the outcome to reflect my absolute inner belief that magnificent experiences are the stuff of living. The chariot thing was too archaic for my modern sensibility, but with some thought I landed on the concept of Icarus. After flying wildly high, I thought, Icarus would return to Earth with gentle gratitude, lit by the orange glow of the day’s setting sun. I opted for no wings, just the outstretched arms. Appropriately I painted this while I lived in Greece, and I won’t lie, I loved scaling the rock cliffs in the buff, jumping from rock to rock, as my friend philosopher David Kelley can attest to.
