Most of your artsy types are familiar with the name Paul Klee, Swiss born artist whose investigations into color theory, and the power of line were pivotal in the infancy of modern art. If you get a sec, take a second look at The Twittering Machine, a precursor to Rube Goldberg’s Mouse Trap game in two dimensions that calls us to visually turn the crank on a machine that makes birds chirp. The same is true in Klee’s Fish Magic, where the viewer must address up and down, under and over, night and day. These pieces and many others of his often leave us wondering where the light is coming from, which in turn leaves us wondering how we are supposed to get our footing. You have to love art that keeps you a little off center, and challenges you to figure out where you are standing.
As you may have discovered, I have several archetypical alter egos that, while never the focal point in a work of my art, allow me to go down the proverbial rabbit hole to my playful side. Harv is one of those guys. Harv, for the record, is never without his H-mobile, the H spinning incessantly as the propellor for his spaceship/car/boat. Harv is kind of the James Bond of pajama parties, the Jason Bourne of out-of-control smash cakes. When I draw him into one of my pieces, he has to negotiate his way through any sort of visual cataclysm. Several of those have included storms of mathematical equations, which sweep through the canvas like a comet, or a big bad balloon bearing down on him out of the clouds.
Harv, primitively drawn, is at the controls, revving up his propeller, not to escape, but to weather the adventure. He is not sad or afraid of his circumstances, because those just make for a better story later.
In Harv Questions Mr. Klee, Harv’s, I drew the little submarine-like H-mobile from a cereal box sticker. It appears as if some aqua-hand has gone wild with spots of color which now float about the picture like bubbles in an aquarium. And as if the hand did not adequately identify those fingerprinted bubbles of color, part of the word “MINE” appears at the bottom. It is me playing with color with “my hand” standing in as my alter ego. As a nod to Klee, I have a small car driving upside-down across the top edge of the drawing, defying gravity. One could turn the drawing around like an hourglass and start the whole adventure over. With Harv at the controls, the bubbles would eventually make their way to the surface again anyway.
One of my favorite parts of this drawing, and the reason I included it in my website, are the diaphonous watercolor-like brown washes which are done with paper pulp. They are very delicate and reticulated, and care had to be taken to let them stand on their own and not to crowd them out. Beautiful things need their space to work out their beauty, and I’m glad I have learned enough about art to recognize when something beautiful needs to be left alone. That is something I learned from Mr. Klee and his art.
If I had a chance to ask my favorite artists what they were thinking when they did a work of art, I know Paul Klee would be on my short list. And I know Harv would make another seat for him on the H-mobile. I like to think the two of them would have a great conversation.