{"id":8722,"date":"2019-06-21T14:39:35","date_gmt":"2019-06-21T14:39:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thedorseypost.com\/?p=8722"},"modified":"2019-06-10T12:40:29","modified_gmt":"2019-06-10T12:40:29","slug":"the-sorrows-and-joys-of-taffy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thedorseypost.com\/?p=8722","title":{"rendered":"The sorrows and joys of taffy"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"attachment_8723\" style=\"width: 491px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-8723\" class=\"wp-image-8723\" src=\"https:\/\/thedorseypost.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/06\/IMG_9597.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"481\" height=\"496\" srcset=\"https:\/\/thedorseypost.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/06\/IMG_9597.jpg 1321w, https:\/\/thedorseypost.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/06\/IMG_9597-291x300.jpg 291w, https:\/\/thedorseypost.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/06\/IMG_9597-768x792.jpg 768w, https:\/\/thedorseypost.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/06\/IMG_9597-993x1024.jpg 993w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 481px) 100vw, 481px\" \/><p id=\"caption-attachment-8723\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Here I am with a taffy painting I started in February, but have been deterred from finishing because of multiple family obligations. Nevertheless, slow but steady.<\/p><\/div>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">I embarked on a series of enlarged images of salt-water taffy last year, unable to reach cruising speed for the work because of a slow flood of continuous family obligations. Over the past year, I\u2019ve had to keep halting my painting (and writing) every two or three weeks for multiple reasons, including several trips to Florida to prepare my parents\u2019 condo for rental or sale, since they\u2019re no longer able to get down there\u2014as well as flights to L.A. to spend a welcome week with my kids and grandkids, after long absences. Having just gotten back from one of those weeks in L.A., my mother fell and broke her hip and then amazed the Highland Hospital staff with her rapid ability to get moving again after a partial hip replacement at the age of 94. So, with my time devoted to helping both parents adapt to all of this at home, my work has been on hold for yet another week as of today.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">Caring for aged parents has provided an energizing counterpoint to work at the easel, especially because I\u2019ve been focused on such what seems at first such a trivial subject, dollops of salt-water taffy veiled behind twists of waxed paper, in contrast to the somber, chastening experience of advanced age. Lauren Purje, after she saw my paintings of candy jars seven or eight years ago, remarked, \u201cThere\u2019s sadness in them.\u201d It was undoubtedly what charmed her about the paintings, though at the time I was nonplussed by the comment, unconscious of everything about those paintings other than my formal intentions. Sad candy seemed like an oxymoron. They offered me a way to bring more color to a still life\u2014giving me a softened geometric image, a grid, and the format let me choose the colors I could put down. It also offered a balance between flatness and representational depth. The emotional pull of the image wasn\u2019t even on my radar\u2014I was too aware of my formal goals to be alert to what the act of painting had smuggled into the image on its own, while my attention was diverted to the paint itself. In other words, the candy jars were a reminder of how I think art actually operates, embodying a world of feeling and imagination despite an artist\u2019s conscious intentions, conveying more than the artist is, or <i>can<\/i> <i>ever<\/i> be, aware of. <\/span><!--more--><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">I chose taffy for formal reasons as well: the way in which it enabled me to pick and choose different color harmonies and presented loosely abstract properties in the shapes of the paper and the molded nougat-like candy full of supple curves with a few sharp edges. Each bit of wrapped taffy, when the image is enlarged, looks sculptural, muscular, but also ethereal and vulnerable to me\u2014like the contrast between the modeled wax and fabric of Degas\u2019 sculpture of an adolescent dancer. The spirals and tiers and spots of color in the candy itself feel\u2014to me\u2014like wistful, <i>sotto voce <\/i>references to color field painting, translated into three dimensions. Stacking them and setting them near a window for the shadows cast by a single source of natural light, I\u2019m fascinated by how much drama the images can evoke, like glimpses of rare birds. Their shapes and lines, and the variation in opacity and transparency, give them an almost psychological resonance when I look at the finished work. They seem full of personality. And, simply in their shape and the way they catch the light, a stacked pair of these treats evokes for me a dozen different things: insect wings, tropical fish, rock faces, raptors, carved marble, Elizabethan portraits, skulls, and flesh clothed in sheer fabric. There <em>is<\/em> a slightly erotic allure in the way these little chunks of sugar present themselves for viewing though the lumpy quality of their form makes this sort of reflection amusing. <em>All<\/em> of it is amusing. It\u2019s a little funny simply to find oneself painting images of candy and talking at any length about it. Thiebaud kept having to fight the notion that he was crazy to pick his sweet subject matter in the beginning.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">Whether or not anyone else has an inkling about any of this while looking at these paintings, it\u2019s what makes me want to stick with it for quite a while: all of these associations give the act of painting these images a luxuriant feel of being immersed in an encouraging certainty that this is exactly what I should be painting right here and now. That\u2019s a rare feeling, because it\u2019s so easy to get away from the feel of settling into exactly what you most want to do with paintings that answer to what you want to see when you are done. I forget about how slowly the work proceeds and delight in the process itself, in <i>the feel of the paint as I apply it.<\/i> When you are in that zone, it hardly matters what you are depicting or how, because there\u2019s a sense of perfection in the process that justifies itself anc conveys something essential about painting to a viewer. Again, this is ironic. I&#8217;m representing objects riddled with imperfections, wrinkles, crimps, dimples, and cracks, squeezed, smudged, torn here and there, and yet by painting all of that a certain way, they look exactly right and they evoke for me the perfection of any and all imperfections in a subject when they are subsumed into a good painting.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">Lately, too, these paintings feel like an intersection between life and art for me. I\u2019ve been surprised at how the light itself, the way it falls on these punished-looking yet stubbornly cheery servings of empty calories reminds me of the slow, suffering decline my parents are enduring. A sentinel of mortality hovers in my peripheral vision every day now, the sense of impending surrender that skulks around the emotional family campfire, waiting for the flames to gutter.<span class=\"Apple-converted-space\">\u00a0 <\/span>They aren\u2019t going anywhere. Their health is comparatively good, broken bones notwithstanding. But the erosion of age is relentless. The perky quality of this candy, seemingly eager to be unwrapped and enjoyed, reminds me inevitably of how my parents continue to crack jokes despite the indignities and disorders of advanced age and how they delight in the simplest things, the company of nearly anyone\u2014how they still revel in the color of new leaves in the spring, the beauty of their grandchildren (as hard to make out through the distortions of macular degeneration as it is to see edges of candy behind waxed paper), the weary smile of a son showing up every other day to help. The nurses and techs who came to my mother&#8217;s room loved her after three days. She and my father still live independently at home, but it\u2019s a cluttered place now, full of devices to help my father move around, countless pill bottles, machines to magnify whatever my mother needs to read, and lingering smells that wouldn\u2019t have been there ten years ago. They are at the age when they still want to live, and be with the ones they love, though they are ready for whatever might follow the encroaching squalor of a struggle that gets harder from one month to the next.<span class=\"Apple-converted-space\">\u00a0 <\/span>I could try painting portraits of my parents, but in an oblique way, for me, these taffy paintings <em>are<\/em> representations of their lives, their struggle, their spirit. <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">So the sadness of jelly beans may be in the process of being upstaged by the brave <em>tristesse<\/em> of taffy. Whether the work conveys joy or sadness, life or death, if they turn out the way I want, the images this subject gives me will\u2014I hope\u2014hint at a larger beauty that encompasses all of those polarities. One thing that hasn\u2019t changed and doesn\u2019t fluctuate is love and much of this work is a celebration and direct expression of it. I love my family. I love my work. I may be painting taffy for quite a while, and all those wings that will never fly. I hope I can find time to paint other things as well, though maybe I shouldn\u2019t worry about that just yet.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I embarked on a series of enlarged images of salt-water taffy last year, unable to reach cruising speed for the work because of a slow flood of continuous family obligations. Over the past year, I\u2019ve had to keep halting my painting (and writing) every two or three weeks for multiple reasons, including several trips to [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-8722","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v27.4 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/product\/yoast-seo-wordpress\/ -->\n<title>The sorrows and joys of taffy - represent<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/thedorseypost.com\/?p=8722\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"The sorrows and joys of taffy - represent\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"I embarked on a series of enlarged images of salt-water taffy last year, unable to reach cruising speed for the work because of a slow flood of continuous family obligations. 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