Spring!

 I saw the first flock of cranes on their northbound flight this morning - a sure sign that spring is coming. And, I can honestly say that I am ready for it! My palette has already morphed into colors of April and I have been studying various garden blogs for tips and tricks. I can hardly wait to see the first bits of green - the snowdrops and forsythia buds. 

The first  exhibits of the year are also coming up. I will be showing three pieces in a group exhibit at the Lite-Haus Galerie in Berlin.Neukölln this coming weekend (28 Feb). And a week later I will be spending the day with a group of artists in a local shopping center - with easels full of artworks, of course! This should be a fun day, showing my art in a very different sort of setting. I am looking forward to some interesting conversations there. (LIO - the shopping center in Lichterfelde Ost). Do stop by for a visit!

Tales of Summer

Enjoy the awakening!

A New Year - a New Start

 They say that it is never too late for a new start - so, here we go!

I have been using the snowy and cold weather as my excuse for spending lots of time painting and catching up on all those tasks that have slipped to the bottom of the proverbial list. Since the first events of 2026 aren't happening before Spring, there is also no external pressure. YES!

So, what am I up to? Winter watercolors

Winter Sunrise

                                    I enjoy the challenge of painting snow - or rather NOT painting. Leaving that bit of white paper seems so important, but is so difficult. Cold and flat or bright and warm? I think it must be the surrounding colors that determine this. Or maybe there is another answer?

January Day

  The biggest news from this desk. . . I have finally commited to relauching my website. It will take a while since it will be a major change, but I am really excited about getting this update out and into the world. I'll keep you posted. 

How about a bit of bright music for these grey days? 

Schubert, Trout Quintet, 4th movement

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HwbWvGtaZGo

See you all soon. Thanks for reading. 

KLang

Summer Colors

 It happens - subcontiously - as the weather gets warmer, the colors in my paintings change, too. Even the grey tones are different from winter to summer.

summer and winter shadows

 In this little example I have mixed cadmium red and ultramarine blue to make a wintery shadow. For a summery atmosphere, we have chrome orange and cobalt blue. There are, of course, many different combinations of complementary colors used to make various neutral tones, but these greys (that are not simply watered down blacks) do lend their particular atmosphere to a painting. 

Lost in Thoughts of Summer

I can almost see Puck peeking out from behind the tree.
Listen here to Mendelssohn, Overture to "A Midsummer Night's Dream"
 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0gHTNJVFtA

Something Old, Something New

 Yes, it has been a very long time since I have written - but I have certainly not been inactive. Without delving into specifics, let it simply be said that the past several years have certainly been challenging and never boring! Painting and music are still my mainstays; some things never change.

During those long days of seclusion dictated by the corona virus, I have, as many of us have, sorted  through  stacks of unfinished and not-quite-discarded papers. Some paintings just miss the mark - some experiments don't turn out as expected or wanted -  like these watercolor poppies from 2012.

Poppy Mania

It being in my nature to not discard expensive watercolor paper until it is totally destroyed, I unearthed these poppies and proceeded to transform them. Each one of the smaller pieces takes on a life of its own and, after a couple days (yes, so much time) of looking at them, I decided to use the strong colors as a  background for printing.

Voilá!  Tropical Music

The musical accompaniment for this trio? - Brahms, of course! https://www.youtube.com/watchv=OB7Lm4FlhEM
This is an old recording, but still one of my favorites.

Sunday Musings - Simple Complexity

I am enjoying the rare privilege today of spending a Sunday at home in my studio. On those days when most of the world tends to gear down, I am either heading out to play a concert or pack my artwork to present at a show or market. Today, though, I can sit in my bird's nest apartment and watch a pair of jays chasing each other from branch to branch of the plum tree in front of my window. Squirrel has dedicated his day to digging up each and every nasturtium seed I have so carefully planted in the windowboxes. But, somehow I don't even mind.

Although today is a concert-less day, it certainly doesn't mean that there is no music. I've chosen Schubert and Alfred Brendel to accompany me. https://www.youtube.com/watch?=0WDQL_X7Euk The "Moment Musicaux" are lovely, short piano pieces that, although they lack the structural development of a sonata or symphony, contain a myriad of colors and moods. (The third piece is one most of you will recognize from those childhood piano lessons.) Today they remind me of the April sky - the simple complexity of an everchanging mix of clouds and blue with periodic interruptions by passing birds.

My paintbrushes have not been idle during this window gazing. Here are a few of my "Moment Musicaux" - small and colorful pieces of April fun.

Moment Musicaux 1&2

Moment Musicaux 3

 I've mixed watercolors, ink and collage - a simple complexity - open to individual interpretation. . . What shapes do you see in the clouds?

Keep Experimenting, Keep Growing

Now that spring is really underway, we see growth and reawakening all around us. I am using all the renewal and energy that the season brings with it as inspiration for my artwork. It is time to bring on the new colors and techniques - different subject matter and materials. Using new paints on a different ground automatically stimulates the imagination and leads to new and interesting discoveries. Fun! 

Painting, Writing, Composing 

This one was a real challenge, being much larger than my usual watercolor papers and definitely outside my comfort zone -  mixed media on a sheet of heavy, brown paper, 70x100 cm.  The first layer is a collage of old sheet music (please forgive me for tearing music apart, but it all is for the sake of art) and India ink; succeeding layers are acrylic; brushed, printed and sprayed; graphite, acrylic ink and a bit more India ink applied with a bamboo pen.

Then, while the paint was still figuratively wet on this piece, I started a series of very small, postcard sized works to challenge my imagination in the other direction. These are mostly oil paints monoprinted onto washi paper (a very thin, tissue-like oriental paper traditionally used for sumi-e and calligraphy). Of the 17 pieces that I made, here are a few of my favorites - some with a few extra brushstrokes and bits of collage to round out the compositions.

Japanese Dreams

Paper Dreams

Crazy Fiddle

Crazy Sax

My musical accompaniment for all this color chaos has also been equally mixed. While I was working on the large format (we were a group of eight exploring the theme of "Workplace - between action and standstill"), there was tango music as inspiration. Here is a small tidbit, performed by friends of mine here in the Philharmonie, Berlin. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kHfkYgh4PS0 .

To complete the week of contrasting experimentation, my musical choice here at home has been Mozart (again). Last weekend I was part of a performance of the G minor Symphony, Nr. 40. No matter how many times I have played this piece of music over the years, it's charm and genius haven't lessened. I love being surrounded by those sounds. We had a Viennese conductor, so the interpretation was definitely different than one expects here in Berlin. Appropriately, though, I wasn't surprised to find that this older Harnoncourt version was very much like ours. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2HbMzu1aQW8   . Enjoy!

My thought for the day came from a lovely print I found in a gift shop at the Detroit airport, where I was trying my best to stay awake and constructively use my waiting time . . . 

"Most people don't know that there are angels whose only job is to make sure you don't get too comfortable and fall asleep and miss your life."

Trees and Tulips

At long last I've found my way back to  blogging. The past month has been a rollercoaster of events that just has not leant me the necessary peace of mind I need to write. Instead of elaborating on February's high and low points, I turn my thoughts to the sunshine pouring through my window and the advent of Spring. Birds and squirrels know what to do; I have sighted the first formations of northbound geese and signs of fresh nests. Trees start budding and we feel like opening windows to sniff the fresh air. (It really does smell different in springtime.) Furlined boots are relegated to the rear of the closet and a bunch of fresh tulips adorns my dining table.

Spring's Arrival

Without revealing my age or making any of you think about your own life span, I want to point out how we, each year, get so excited about this turn of season. No matter how many times we experience it, spring is new each and every year. Like children at Christmas, we examine the crocuses popping up through the bare ground and are amazed at forsythia blossoms defying the still very crisp temperatures.

I've been practicing my Mozart with renewed vigor and have updated the colors in my watercolor palette; ochre and Payne's Grey have given way to sap green and mountain blue.

Spring Trees

My audio choice this week was a difficult one, but only because there are so many possibilities.  I have managed to narrow the field down to two - hope they are good ones! I have long been a fan of Robert Frost (will never forget his reading at the Kennedy inauguration ) and have chosen here his renditon of "Nothing Gold can Stay." https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SMwr_B4J-I

And just a small tribute to Nikolaus Harnoncourt, who revolutionized performance practice and interpretation of Baroque music - an inspiration for me since university days in Kansas!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9ClXA0b7K8

Nature's first green is gold, 

Her hardest hue to hold. 

Her early leaf's a flower; 

But only so an hour. 

Then leaf subsides to leaf. 

So Eden sank to grief, 

So dawn goes down to day. 

Nothing gold can stay. 

                                                  Robert Frost

Movements

These last days have been filled with movements and motion. First, I flew from the USA back to Europe. On the first leg of the tour over western NY State I was lucky enough to have a window seat and enjoy the fantastic winter landscape below. With a cloudless sky and practically no snow, I was treated to a panorama view of the Finger Lakes and all the villages and byways I have known for so many years. The patchwork of many fields and woods - so many shades of gold, ocker, brown and green -  will certainly be a subject for future paintings.

Back in Berlin, I have been moving a lot of paint around - on paper, that is. The lack of snow has not hindered me from trying to capture a bit of winter atmosphere with ink and watercolor. Admittedly, there is no motion in this painting, simply the expectation of action that could follow. Perhaps a bird will fly or a lone hiker will appear from behind a tree; the decision is individual.

Winter Magic

Of the half dozen pictures I have started this week, my favorite (at the moment) is another ink and watercolor - pure motion.

Wind in the Sails

There is definitely wind in these sails - maybe a harbinger of spring. Aside from my play on Kandinsky, there is nothing more than imagination here.  The checkerboard, though, is a recollection of my flight over New York; the winter fields have become decoration for a sail.

Musically, I am in the midst of learning a new Mozart opera - new for me, of course. "La finta Giardiniera" is an early work, but full of tidbits that Mozart reused and developed in his later music. (There will be more on this next week!) It is stimulating to learn something new and interesting to experience the musical beginnings of a young Mozart. I will leave you with a bit of something different -  Bach's first solo sonata for violin - simply perfect. Each movement is a masterpiece of its own; I couldn't pick a favorite. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etB8MAjNaz0

February Fantasy

Home

I have just looked at the date on my last post and realized that it has been exactly a month since I last wrote. The long break was certainly unintentional - more likely a sign of my state of transit and, at least partially, a lack of internet during my weeks in China. Since my last tour of China had been 10 years ago, I was most interested in making comparisons - noting progress and changes - for better or for worse. The streets that were once filled with bicycles and pedal vehicles of all sorts are now as congested with cars as any western city. Bikes have been updated with motors and the food vendors on the streets are now electrified - I didn't see a single open fire. Rice cookers and electric steamers have replaced open coals.

Our audiences in China seemed genuinely enthusiastic; it did appear that there were more middle class listeners ( though I can't be sure) than 10 years ago. The concert halls were full, the audiences appreciated our light programs, but applauded most for our renditions of Chinese folk songs. It was a good tour.

After ten days of Chinese culture, it was very comforting to arrive in Berlin again - home . . . familiar surroundings and friends and my own empty refridgerator! The euphoria of being in Berlin didn't last long, though, as I very quickly decided to make a trip to my childhood home in western New York State. I have been here for a week now - here I have the exquisite privilege of coming home to the village and the house I grew up in. I can sit in the living room with my father and brother, sleep in the same bed I knew as a child and immerse myself in the surroundings I have known for my whole life. This is home. This is fantastic.

And, as much of the east coast of the USA digs out from a large snowstorm, we, in western NY, bathed in sunshine today and witnessed a spectacular sunset. (This may very likely be my next subject for a watercolor . . .)

Winter Sunset in Wellsville

Musically the past weeks have been dominated by the programs we presented in China - lots of "Blue Danube" and Strauss polkas . . . but also Beethoven 8. This symphony undoubtedly doesn't have the weight of the 3rd, 5th or 9th, but is still charming, full of contrast and lots of fun to play. I'm convinced that Beethoven must have chuckled while composing it. I have chosen another recording with Bernstein (he is definitely my favorite) this time with Vienna. I really enjoy watching Bernstein's expressions while conducting. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cITK6WgZj4M  It may also be worth noting that this orchestra was one of the last to retain its "all male" status.

There isn't a female to be seen in the whole orchestra. Things have changed since 1970!

24 December 2015

The stockings are hung by the chimney, the gifts are all wrapped and the sun is setting already on this spring-like Christmas Eve in Berlin. The weather has been so lovely this month, it is more like April than December. I'm wondering if the southern hemisphere is also experiencing such crazy aberrances in the seasons. Santa will be putting some roller blades on his sleigh tonight!

We will have our Christmas celebration this evening - our small family here in Berlin - and, via Skype, those in New York, too. The wonder of internet certainly has made contact over the miles so much easier. I am thankful for that. We will take time out from our otherwise constant state of "hurriedness" and "business" to enjoy the day, the year and each other before we all bustle off to our next duties. These times are so rare and so special.

Speaking of which, this message will also serve as my New Year's wishes to you all, since I will be spending the next two weeks on tour. I'll be entertaining  Chinese audiences with Beethoven 8 and other classics instead of concerning myself with ways to serve leftover turkey. (There is never any leftover stuffing, is there?) My holiday dinner will be whatever the airline serves. . . . hmmmmm.

No matter how you are spending this weekend - celebrating Christmas or otherwise - I send warmest greetings from our house to yours and wishes for a peacful, healthy and creative New Year.

I will leave this year with one last musical offering. The third symphony of Camille Saint-Saens is not particularly Christmas music, but does still have all the ingredients for being such. On top of a full orchestra there is also piano 4-hands and organ contributing to the joyous noise. Here is a recording of the last movement (actually the whole symphony is worth a listen, too)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hmo30e15Bzg
And, here is another link solely from the perspective of the organist https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzCN83XLZco   An audience rarely gets to appreciate the fact that the organ console is somewhere other than in the midst of the orchestra. The organist seldom has eye contact with the conductor and has to rely on other tricks to stay synchronized. . . in this case, he has a video camera and one can see how he counts! Fascinating.

"Music gives a soul to the universe,

wings to the mind,

flight to the imagination

and life to everything."

PLATO

Merry Christmas to all!

Advent

Now that Advent is upon us, the first snowflakes have fallen and my first Christmas market is history, I have dug out my musical favorite for the season. As soon as I hear drums and trumpets announcing the first measures of Bach's Christmas Oratorio, I know that the holiday season is officially opened. My own recording of all six cantatas is a rather old rendition by the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields, but for simplicity's sake, I have chosen a newer rendition that is a bit leaner https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ggm0SZCWKZo   It is interesting to hear how our ideas of musical interpretation have changed over the  years. (Don't worry, I won't get into the music theory of it all!) Do have a listen and enjoy Bach's masterpiece. No matter which interpretation, it is a timeless treasure.

Here are also a few impressions of last weekend's Advent market at the Liebenberg castle.

 

 It was a good weekend  - for the visitors and vendors, too.  This coming Sunday, I'll be standing outdoors at another market here in Berlin (Mexikoplatz). It can be a chilly event, but, having grown up in New York State, I learned the benefits of heavy boots and long underwear at an early age. And I do enjoy the interaction with all the visitors, customers and friends at these markets.

I send my wishes to all for a joyous and blessed Advent.

The Best Plans. . .

A week ago I was in the midst of rehearsing Dvorák's 7th  Symphony  - a truly  wonderful work full of exuberance and drama. It is my favorite of all the Dvorák symphonies,  unfortunately performed too seldom. So, I was very happy to have the chance after many years to reacquaint myself with this work. With all of Dvorák's beautiful melodies in my mind,  I had also developed a mental outline for a corresponding blogpost full of colors inspired by the rich harmonies and rhythms, especially in the symphony's  third movement. This recording my not be the best of them all, but I chose it because the conductor, Jose Serebrier is married to a distant cousin of mine - a shirttail relative! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lAvQJB6P9sg

And then came Friday evening and the events in Paris. . . . I won't dwell on this subject here; we have heard the news and listened to the editorials and politicians and read the many facebook comments. It is over, but the effects will be with us for a very long time.

My art selection this week isn't something new - I rather wanted to choose a painting that exudes calm peace. I hope the world can find it, too.

Winter Cranes

November in Liebenberg

Schloss Liebenberg

Indian Summer may be an American phenomenon, but we here in Germany are experiencing  a wonderfully mild and extended autumn that is every bit as beautiful as those in New England; it is pure luxury to be able to leave  winter coat and gloves in the closet in November. The geraniums and asters in my window boxes are still producing blossoms and defying the calendar. Until yesterday there were even several half ripe strawberries in my sunniest window garden; I was entertaining thoughts of  homegrown strawberries on Thanksgiving . . . until the local squirrel found them. I hope he enjoyed this unexpected delicacy.

On one of the sunny afternoons this past week I took a drive just north of Berlin to visit Schloss Liebenberg. In one month's time, the courtyard of this little castle will be transformed into a beautiful Advent market with stands offering all sorts traditional decorations, handicrafts, art (yes, KlangArt, too) culinary treats and music.

It was not the typical November afternoon!

The fresh air, mild temperatures and glorious colors have had their effect on my watercolor palette,  too. Where I ought to be concentrating on snowmen, angels and winter scenes for the upcoming Advent market season, I've instead spent my time painting the warm tones of autumn sunsets and foliage.

Autumn in the Air

As I was leafing through an old calendar today, I ran across something I had scribbled on the page - a thought from John Cleese that was important to me then - and no less pertinent today.

"Nothing will stop you from being creative so effectively as the fear of making a mistake."

Right!

October Glow

I think the forces of nature have had a conference and decided to concentrate all their efforts on this last day of October and make it the most fabulous of autumn events. The bluest of blue skies and sunshine galore have made the last show of colorful leaves a real painter's dream. Even the maples (that theoretically do not turn red here in Europe) have done their best to prove science wrong. Needless to say, my afternoon walk was pure joy. The temperature is even mild enough that I could enjoy browsing through a neighbor's yard sale - I love these little treasure hunts and forays into remnants other worlds. The follow up is, of course, bringing the new acquisitions - a book or a basket or a little dish - home and making them fit into one's own surroundings.

Autumn Aspens

Just a week ago, the tables were turned as I was at the midpoint of Open House weekend in my KlangArt studio - a grand event, made so by the many friends, art lovers and customers who took the time to drop by for a visit. There were many interesting conversations as well as comments on my artwork and my architecturally distinctive apartment. As an artist, the most rewarding moment of such an event comes when someone expresses interest in a specific painting - enough to want to buy it and be able to look at it and rediscover it daily in their home. . .  to make it fit into their own personal world.  My heart smiles.

My closing thought comes as I listen to the daily news on the radio:

       "The job of an artist is to offer a sanctuary of beauty to an otherwise ugly world."
                                                                                                             Jeff Goins

Between Day and Night

Open House in October

The days really seem to fly by. I know, it is a common plaint that there are never quite enough hours in the day . . . . ahh. . . I'm thinking, though, that just yesterday it was late summer and today the calendar says mid October - and I still haven't had the opportunity to go for a long walk in the woods and shuffle through the fallen leaves. I'm reminded of years of raking, cleaning up the garden, even burning leaves at streetside and kids jumping into leaf piles. Memories are wonderful, aren't they?

Outdoor activities have been kept to a minimum this week in Berlin for a couple of reasons. First, the weather hasn't been cooperative and, more relevant for me, preparations for the upcoming open house in my studio have kept me busy.

OK. . . .This chaos in the studio is merely a sign of the creative process (please don't laugh). By Saturday it will all be orderly. In the meantime, there is a lot of painting, matting and framing to be done. This is my labor of love - not to be traded for anything. I can only hope that my endeavors connect with the visitors in my studio this weekend. Amen.

Herringbones

.

If you are in Berlin this weekend, you are most welcome to drop by the studio; all are welcome. It will be a grand event.

Rubenstein and "Inktober"

Autumn is upon us. During this past week in Berlin we have experienced the full palette of late summer molting into fall. Today the sun shone in its full October beauty, making the colorful leaves - dancing in a light wind - a joy to watch. Somehow, I never tire of gazing out of my window on an autumn day. The neighborhood squirrel is busy gathering walnuts and building a warm nest; the chickadees and jays chase each other and seem to vie for the best places on a special treebranch.

Ah, yes, I have been tending to business, too. There is an upcoming Open House in my KlangArt studio in two weeks, so preparations are in full swing - including everything from painting, matting and organizing to doing some publicity and even a bit of housecleaning! As I tell my students, discipline is the key . . . not always easy. I do have my tricks, though, to make the work flow a bit easier; I could do as the seven dwarfs did for Snow White and "Whistle while you Work"  (no link here), but I've decided instead to listen to some other old favorites - Artur Rubenstein playing Chopin.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tmQSWuYwrI  I've chosen the Ballade #4, but there are many recordings available, and they are all worthy of a listen. For me, this rendition is comparable to donning those old sneakers that are SO comfortable, even though they may not be the most stylish. Pure music.

I guess I have to relate my personal experience with the master Rubenstein . . . I was privileged to hear him once live in a concert in Rochester, NY. As a very tiny, elderly gentleman walked onto the stage, I was taken aback. Was this really the GREAT Rubenstein? From the moment he sat down at the piano, there was no doubt in my mind. Fantastic. It was a program of Chopin;  undoubtedly also for Rubentstein himself "old sneakers." I sat on the edge of my seat the whole time.  There were more than a few notes that Chopin himself didn't compose in this recital, but the rendition was magic; there was music in every phrase. I'll never forget it.

My painting this week has been concentrated on ink work. There is a friendly challenge for artists to observe "Inktober" by doing an ink drawing per day for the whole month of October. So. . . I have made my liberal interpretation of this project and am happily producing small ink sketches daily. Some of them will undoubtedly also be matted and will find their way to the upcoming Advent markets.

 

 

My thought for the week relates (amongst other things) to these small scale, quick sketches.

"There is nothing insignificant in the world. It all depends on the point of view."

                                                                                                                          Goethe

Good bye, September

I have been thoroughly enjoying those last bits of September sunshine and warmth here in my birds- nest studio. The air is especially clear and fresh - makes my watercolors seem more vibrant than usual. The first tinges of color are coming to the trees; it is a time when I like to close my eyes and remember the fantastic reds and oranges of the sugar maples in western New York - these are shades that can't be duplicated by the European maples.

A squirrel has been visiting my window regularly - burying his treasure of walnuts in my window boxes. He is fascinating to watch.  I've often wondered if the animals really remember where they deposit their food stash. If there is a walnut tree sprouting at my window in the spring, I guess I'll have the answer.

The cat is, of course, also very interested in our visitor. Squirrel seems to know that there is no immediate danger and goes about his business as usual, while Snoopy is both mesmerized by the action and frustrated by the combination of proximity and distance.

With all of the harbingers of autumn at my window, I've been prompted to continue using a palette of similar colors in my paintings - ocher and gold, red and cadmium orange and with crispy, clear ink outlines. There is no attempt on my side  to imitate all that is going on outdoors; it is my personal translation of the September atmosphere. Great stuff!

Barberry and Rose hips

Elements - the colors of September

And, of course, the week would not be complete without a bit of good music. My "discovery" is a group called Time for Three. Granted, they have been around for a number of years, but somehow had escaped me until recently. I'm most impressed by their virtuosity and inspired by their musicality. Here is a clip with Joshua Bell as guest artist - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8KjJF1R3Fo
Have fun listening!

September Sun

We all like to think of September as being a month predominated by those lovely lingering moments of late summer with warm and sunny afternoons followed by crispy nights. Here in Berlin, we have lately been denied these pleasures; grey skies and daily precipitation have predominated over our weather for the last week. It has really been a bit too cool and grey.

My counter-offensive is two-part. I'll admit that I've spent quite a bit of time sitting at my window and watching the clouds scudding by. It is quite a show, with a full range of clouds from the darkest rain clouds to clear cerulean blue autumn sky in the shortest time span. Great.

When the sky is grey and I'm tempted to dig out a wool sweater to keep my shoulders warm, I tend to turn to the brightest colors in my watercolor palette for some artificial warmth. Sunshine is the topic of choice, so I've been painting sunflowers galore.  The medicine works and here are a couple of the products of my work week.

Pitcher of Sunshine

Golden Greeting

And, of course, there is a thought for the day. . . . from Picasso.

"Art washes the dust of our everyday lives from the soul."

I'd like to extend that thought to music, too . . . .