“The elements that dance in my head are always both visual and narrative. Whether they are expressed in painting or writing, the essence of what I am trying to convey is one in the same for me. They must derive from a place of truth and spark something of the imagination.”
“I love the act of repetition. Maybe it feels like a meditation of sorts, but I’m also interested in simplifying a technique down to a single mark or color, so as to allow space for the viewer to interpret the feeling, or to let a concept emerge if that’s what is intended.”
I am going to write in praise of the small. Not the miniature, which is an inverse of the monumental and thus, in its own way, monumental.
Eicher takes the microphone, and, in his lilting, wry way of talking, he gently invites us to take our places, in small groups of four people, centered on stations that have been painted (dusted would be more accurate) onto the grass.
I’ve never seen the author of Tender Buttons and Three Lives look as she looks in this painting by Picabia from 1937. Her head is small, perched on wide and rounded shoulders draped in brown. Beneath the cloak, a soft blue blouse with a large brooch peeks through. On her face, a sort of “oh well” smirk on thin, taut lips.