MUSIC AS INSPIRATION

So much of my work comes from the inspiration of music and the actual observing of music being created. I love watching a musician make music. When I was young I was obligated to take lessons of varying media. The clarinet an instrument of soulful and whimsical tones. The piano with elegant graceful notes. There were the ballet lessons and the tragedy of me in movement. Once there was even a painful audition of Ado Annie in the musical Oklahoma that shook my every nerve to sickness. Nonetheless my favorite lessons of all, were the illusive and diverting drawing, oil and mix media art classes. And for good measure, my parents made us take tennis and golf just in case sport was one of our gigs.

We as family went to see choral, instrumental and band concerts. I detested every minute of this requirement in my family. However, one day that changed in a big way. Now in college, I got a call from Papa requesting that I attend, with him, and some friends to a production of Madame Butterfly. I tried to beg out "papa I would love too but I have some sketches due tomorrow and a review with my advertising counselor". My dad being an aficionado of this particular arcane art form would not hear of it. He commanded, "meet us at the Wang theater and your ticket will be waiting at the booth".
I had learned a long time prior not to disappoint my father with my unintended ignorance, besides there would probably be a free meal involved and potential influx of funds into my much depleted bank account. Upon taking my seat, I was Immediately, turned off. I whispered to my father are you kidding me. He shhh me and told me to pay attention. On stage was Madame Butterfly. She had entered stage right and begun to sing what I imagined would be many arias. She was a big, black, women with a distinctive, large forehead and a long flowing hair piece. What little I did know about this particular opera, was that Ciociosan (madame butterfly) was suppose to be portraying a 15 year old geisha girl. This singer was not 15 nor a geisha girl.
I could not believe my eyes. I slumped back into my seat and resigned myself for a very long evening. As I began to watch I became enchanted. The magnificent sets, the vibrant costumes, the actors and of course the conductor with his sporadic movements directing the primos and orchestra with excitement. As a visual person, I thought this could entertain me but could it sustain me for the next 2 hours? To my amazement, the time flew by quickly. Ciociosan was about to give her final aria and I felt a sudden body shiver. As I watched, riveted, my eyes started to water. Her last song was a creative, flamboyant suicide/death scene, while her boy, whom she adored was leaving for America with the duplicitous Pinkerton. It was a stirring moment for me because of the emotion the music was able to conjur. And for the second time in 2 hours, I could not believe my eyes as I wept at the final scene. Bravo!

I never forgot that experience. It was a lesson to experience everything. In life you may not know the gifts that will come your way. I read once, that god will not punish us for our bad deeds but will question vociferously about why we did not take advantage of the wonderful gifts he sent our way and we rejected them. Open your eyes, take it all in. This life time is not a dress rehearsal. I believe that the human condition is owned by all human beings. White, black, small, large, young, old, happy, sad and inasmuch of that we are all related by our experiences.The painting above was painted in 2004 many years after the experience at the Opera. The first drawing is a quick rough draft/sketch of my ciociosan in 1987. As I remembered her 4 years later. I carried that memory in my mind and in a sketch book for 16 years before I attempted to construct it. I didn't want to be disappointed by not remembering it as it was. I wanted to remember more the feelings I had maintained through memory and with time difusing the the details.