an uncommon depth of silence

When Tania Schmieder contacted me with a note of appreciation for ‘the awakened eye’ website there was no mention of her wishing to be included on the site.  But she had left a cybertrail; I followed it to her paintings, which in turn delivered me to an uncommon depth of silence.  She had come upon the site while seeking out the writing of Frederick Franck, and said that his books had been a great inspiration for her.  Readers here know that Franck was a profoundly important teacher for me; the site takes its name from his 1979 book, The Awakened Eye.  It was clear that Tania’s work would be a perfect fit for the artisans’ gallery.  An invitation was offered, et voila!

 

Tania Schmieder: Lemon, blue bottle and white freesias

Tania Schmieder, Lemon, blue bottle and white freesias, oil on aluminium, 20″ x 32″

 

Tania is quiet about her work.  Currently, she has no website, although you can see her work at a few online links included on her page.  There’s no big sell, no complicated concepts about what she’s saying, no long lists of exhibitions, publications and/or awards.  Her works are similarly quiet, yet their potency is undeniable.

Born in Kenya, Tania grew up in Brunei and has travelled widely. She graduated from Edinburgh Medical School in 2006, but after a year working as a junior doctor realised she would never thrive in the medical environment.

 

Tania Schmieder: Eggs in Okada cup

Tania Schmieder, Eggs in Okada cup, pencil on watercolour paper, 7″ x 6″

 

She is now thriving as a self-taught artist, working at her home in Freiburg, Germany.

It was in England that Tania experienced an interaction with a still-life painting that “brought her to her knees” and made her take up painting seriously.  Hearing this made me think of Albert Camus’ observation:

A man’s work is nothing but this slow trek to rediscover, through the detours of art, those two or three great and simple images in whose presence his heart first opened.

The blessedness Tania experienced when her heart opened in front of that “great and simple image” is her companion as she draws and paints, and the possibility that her work might invite the same blessing for someone else provides its meaning for her.

The ability to take an ordinary everyday vessel and re-enchant it to our eyes; to capture and suspend the transient beauty of a flower, plant or fruit in timelessness; to gently guide us towards a tranquil, simple suchness that cannot be wordified – this is Tania’s genius.

 

Tania Schmieder, Fern

Tania Schmieder: Fern, oil on linen, 16″ x 12″

 

The purpose of ‘looking’ is to survive, to cope, to manipulate …
this we are trained to do from our first day.

When, on the other hand, I SEE, suddenly I am all eyes,
I forget this ME, am liberated from it and dive into the reality that confronts me.

– Frederick Franck

 

The artist who SEES thus, and whose expression can also help others “dive into the reality” and experience its immanent immensity, is a blessing to us all.

Giorgio Morandi described himself as “essentially a painter of the kind of still life composition that communicates a sense of tranquillity and privacy, moods I have always valued above all else.”

In her quiet and modest way, Tania Schmieder exemplifies the same values.  Same species: rare, and increasingly endangered in the frantic overwhelm of an image-driven digital world.


Tania Schmieder at the artisans’ gallery


Frederick Franck:

at the artisans’ gallery

the 10 commandments (guidelines for the creative life)

the Face of faces

seeing/drawing as meditation

the way of nen


artisans

artisans’ gallery


 

This is the first time I’ve been brave enough to ask directly:
If your work has been freely featured on the site,
whether by invitation or submission,

or if, as a reader,
you’ve found the site’s content helpful,
WOULD YOU LIKE TO SUPPORT THIS PROJECT?
(A deep bow to those of you who didn’t need to be asked.)

 


 

tracing the contours of bewilderment

Jena Argenta brings her exquisite papercutting to the artisans’ gallery, and contributes an equally exquisite, deeply thoughtful essay about her work.

In papercutting and in drawing,
I can’t capture the Mystery of a crane or a lily.
I can only trace the contours of my bewilderment.

 

Jena Argenta: Walking the Dark (detail), black newsprint unmounted, full piece size 9"x16"

Walking the Dark (detail), black newsprint unmounted, full size 9″x16″

 

Frederick Franck and my mother were early teachers in how to see and how to love. And if one makes a practice of falling in love, everywhere, with everything, it pushes the reach of one’s arms. Far becomes near. There is no “other” in the margins. Suffering is not on the peripheries. Like beauty, it is palpable and immediate. Drawing can leave you feeling broken and small with God on your skin. It can change your life. And yes, Jordan Wolfson, it can change the world.

My papercutting, while part prayer, is just a fancy way to get back to that line. To illuminate it by leaving it out. It turns the experience of life drawing and its loving inside out. I want to share eyes with you. And to take my time. I want to dig my heels in like a heavy rooted oak in the city’s technetronic center and hold ground and show you how beautiful light is when it’s mediated by shadow.

– Jena Argenta

Read the full article, with more examples of Jena’s work, here.


artisans

artisans’ gallery


on beginning a painting – or a new day

Are you a list-maker? I am. I’m not talking about lists of the shopping variety, but those scribbled reminders of creative strategies and footholds that work for me as I meet life day by day, in the studio and … well, everywhere. One of my favourite lists is the one compiled by Frederick Franck, which he called the 10 Commandments – even if you aren’t an artist you can be hugely enriched by considering the ways his instructions apply to the big artwork we’re all busy at – creating a life.

 

Richard Diebenkorn: Ocean Park No. 116

Richard Diebenkorn: Ocean Park No. 116

 

The American painter Richard Diebenkorn was another list-maker. The list he made, below, was found among his papers after his death in 1993. It is a collection of 10 (again!) “guidelines” that he believed were instrumental in driving the creative process: Notes to myself on beginning a painting. Perhaps, like most of us, he made many more lists. But this is the one that has survived, and we can be thankful, for there is much to ponder in this list. As with Franck’s list, we find that the advice we give ourselves for the fostering of our creative work in the studio is equally relevant to the creation of an artful life.

Richard Diebenkorn: Notes to myself on beginning a painting

I find it a challenge to choose which of Diebenkorn’s points resonates most deeply for me. They are all relevant at both an artistic level and a personal level. I’m drawn to all the odd numbers, which probably means I need to look more deeply at the evens. My favourite?  Probably number 1. Which would you choose?

 

Richard Diebenkorn: Berkley No. 19

Richard Diebenkorn: Berkley No. 19

 

A few more ponder-worthy quotes from Diebenkorn:

I’m very old-fashioned. Though I’m interested in most of the new art, painting remains for me a very physical thing, an involvement with a tangible feeling of sensation.

I want painting to be difficult to do. The more obstacles, obstructions, problems… the better.

I seem to have to do it elaborately wrong and with many conceits first. Then maybe I can attack and deflate my pomposity and arrive at something straight and simple.

If what a person makes is completely and profoundly right according to his lights then this work contains the whole man. A work which falls short of this content, is only of passing value and lends itself to arbitrariness and fragmentation.

In a successful painting everything is integral… all the parts belong to the whole. If you remove an aspect or element you are removing its wholeness.

 

Richard Diebenkorn: Ocean Park No. 63

Richard Diebenkorn: Ocean Park No. 63

 


Images sourced from the public domain: © 2013 The Estate of Richard Diebenkorn


Richard Diebenkorn Catalogue Raisonné


the realization of not-two-ness

 

It is [the] flash of realization of not-two-ness, that is both the centre and the endpoint of our human experience.

In every seed of every weed, in the knee-joint of a dead wasp’s leg, the structure of the Whole of Reality is laid bare for those who have eyes to see.

 

Image by Laurent Schwebel

 

Our brain filters out the overwhelming poignancy of this Structure of Reality, of the Divine, as it manifests in all that is.

The eye, however, when it awakens, sees all things as “unseparated” from itself, to speak with Eckhart*.

– Frederick Franck
The Awakened Eye


* Meister Eckhart: The eye with which I see God is the eye with which God sees me.

Photograph: Laurent Schwebel


Frederick Franck at the artisans’ gallery

seeing/drawing as meditation

the Face of faces

the 10 commandments
(Frederick Franck’s guidelines for the creative life)


the dance of Me and Mu

It feels like time for a nod to Frederick Franck, mentor supreme, whose book The Awakened Eye provided the impetus and the title for this blog and website.

 

Frederick Franck: Leaf

 

For to the awakened eye no thing remains a mere thing. It reveals itself to be, instead of an object, an EVENT in the timeless abyss of time, an event of unfathomable meaning that happens to take place more or less simultaneously with the event I call “Me”. In the language of Zen this state of no-thingness, of selflessness, is called Mu (literally it means “no”), in which I become an empty vessel, filled by what the eye sees.

I let [the things being drawn] flow through this Mu, let them precipitate themselves onto the paper, as if without any “thinking”, any interference on my part.

For these moments to happen I have lived sixty-some years.

– Frederick Franck, The Awakened Eye


image source

pacem in terris


waking up to wonder

the leaf’s budding and dying are my own!

homage to Frederick Franck

seeing/drawing as meditation

the Face of faces

Frederick Franck at the artisans’ gallery

the 10 commandments
(Frederick Franck’s guidelines for the creative life)