painterskeys
February 6th, 2004, 03:53 PM
Dear artist,
In 1960 Henry Miller wrote "Paint as You Like and Die Happy." Noel Young, his
publisher, gathered paintings from the far corners--watercolours, gouache,
sketches, drawings--most of them gifted or bartered to his many friends. The
book has a bit of a cult following and has gone through several editions.
Miller actually painted "on the side" for about fifty years. To him each
painting was an adventure. "It's the pleasure of picking up the brush and
seeing what happens," he said. Miller's joy of living and wide-ranging
curiosity comes through, and he was indeed painting when he died at age 88.
His paintings are now collected as much for his literary celebrity as for their
spontaneity and childlike innocence. The influence of Picasso, Elie Faure,
Matisse and others are noted--but so what--don't all of us lean on our masters?
He painted anything that came to mind or hand--portraits, landscapes,
mindscapes, dreamscapes, boatscapes. See samples at:
http://www.painterskeys.com/credir.asp?click=optimize.asp
In the sixties Miller and I had a correspondence and a bit of a friendship. I
had written him in praise of "Bread." This was an essay on the worldwide
variations and qualities of bread. It was playful--it jerked your mind around
and shocked, but to my eyes it was totally thought out and crafted. His
creative imagery appealed to me terribly. When we met in Big Sur, he was
having a tough time. His Paris days were behind him. Now married to Janina
Lepska and raising two young children, they were living in a low-cost holiday
home among the trees. On the porch and on their kitchen table were some of his
watercolours. While Miller and his paintings were attached at the hip, he
didn't seem to take them seriously. "Slops," he called them.
Miller claimed that he was losing his edge as a writer and was now more than
ever getting a kick out of painting. In this medium he didn't have the same
expectations that he had for his writing. "I just love it," he said, "Maybe
it's because anything goes." Many literary figures have found escape in the
brush: Lawrence Durrell, Victor Hugo, William Thackeray, to name but a few. In
the "Die Happy" book Miller talks of the appeal of painting and analyzes
motivations in classic essays such as "To Paint Is to Love Again," "The Waters
Reglitterized," and "The Painting Lesson."
PS: "Henry kept his paintings separate from his writing. It's as though
stories came from the other side of his brain." (Noel Young)
Esoterica: Miller explained his technique to his friend Lawrence Durrell: He
called it "The New Instinctivism." You closed your eyes and wished images to
form under your brush. Memories were important but references were not. The
main effort was to will the image--to allow a dream to materialize. A line was
to go on a voyage of discovery. "In every man's heart there is anchored a
little schooner." (Henry Miller)
In 1960 Henry Miller wrote "Paint as You Like and Die Happy." Noel Young, his
publisher, gathered paintings from the far corners--watercolours, gouache,
sketches, drawings--most of them gifted or bartered to his many friends. The
book has a bit of a cult following and has gone through several editions.
Miller actually painted "on the side" for about fifty years. To him each
painting was an adventure. "It's the pleasure of picking up the brush and
seeing what happens," he said. Miller's joy of living and wide-ranging
curiosity comes through, and he was indeed painting when he died at age 88.
His paintings are now collected as much for his literary celebrity as for their
spontaneity and childlike innocence. The influence of Picasso, Elie Faure,
Matisse and others are noted--but so what--don't all of us lean on our masters?
He painted anything that came to mind or hand--portraits, landscapes,
mindscapes, dreamscapes, boatscapes. See samples at:
http://www.painterskeys.com/credir.asp?click=optimize.asp
In the sixties Miller and I had a correspondence and a bit of a friendship. I
had written him in praise of "Bread." This was an essay on the worldwide
variations and qualities of bread. It was playful--it jerked your mind around
and shocked, but to my eyes it was totally thought out and crafted. His
creative imagery appealed to me terribly. When we met in Big Sur, he was
having a tough time. His Paris days were behind him. Now married to Janina
Lepska and raising two young children, they were living in a low-cost holiday
home among the trees. On the porch and on their kitchen table were some of his
watercolours. While Miller and his paintings were attached at the hip, he
didn't seem to take them seriously. "Slops," he called them.
Miller claimed that he was losing his edge as a writer and was now more than
ever getting a kick out of painting. In this medium he didn't have the same
expectations that he had for his writing. "I just love it," he said, "Maybe
it's because anything goes." Many literary figures have found escape in the
brush: Lawrence Durrell, Victor Hugo, William Thackeray, to name but a few. In
the "Die Happy" book Miller talks of the appeal of painting and analyzes
motivations in classic essays such as "To Paint Is to Love Again," "The Waters
Reglitterized," and "The Painting Lesson."
PS: "Henry kept his paintings separate from his writing. It's as though
stories came from the other side of his brain." (Noel Young)
Esoterica: Miller explained his technique to his friend Lawrence Durrell: He
called it "The New Instinctivism." You closed your eyes and wished images to
form under your brush. Memories were important but references were not. The
main effort was to will the image--to allow a dream to materialize. A line was
to go on a voyage of discovery. "In every man's heart there is anchored a
little schooner." (Henry Miller)