When Is It Finished?
~ by Beverly Koski
Hasn't every artist worried over this question? At the end of a long day,
standing before one's easel, the last brush stroke goes on. Satisfied, she moves
to the sink, cleaning out brushes and scraping down her palette. Perhaps one
last look before leaving? That proves her undoing. At once there appears to her
stricken eye a line misplaced, an edge too hard, the colour too subdued. With
resolve, our disturbed worker leaves the studio. Next morning, she returns -
only to find her concerns confirmed - the painting is not resolved and yet and
yet... Does all of this sound familiar?
In the late 90s, I travelled to Paris. L'Orangerie was on my list of galleries,
to be visited. Located in the Tuileries Garden, it is a lovely walk to approach
the Museum. It is said that the name arose from the orange trees which were
planted in that area many decades ago. In the wintertime the trees were brought
indoors. The oranges trees are no longer there; the gallery which I visited, closed
in January of 2000 for renovations. Apparently, the temperature control was
inadequate and the famous paintings were in danger of damage. It wasn't until
May of 2006 that it re-opened.
In the basement of l'Orangerie is a round room. It is very large, with
a central seating area. As one gazes, enraptured, at the paintings which are
arranged in a circle of 360 degrees, one may shift around on the centre benches,
sliding until one's mini circle is completed. This is immersion in the centre
of a garden of water lilies, "Les Nympheas" of Claude Monet. There are eight
huge paintings attached to the walls. The height of all of them is 200 cm. The
smallest is 600 cm. in length and the longest is 1700 cm. In 1920, Premier George
Clemenceau, convinced Monet to donate the works to France. Monet would not
allow the pieces to be shown until after his death (1926) at the age of 86. The
Museum opened in 1927 showcasing Monet’s testamentary masterpieces: "unique
in its genre". But I digress. What about finished and unfinished artworks?
Monet's preparation of the panels was preceded by the construction of
a large studio in 1916. During the painting, the large pieces were moved on
dollies. When the work appeared to be over, his friend, Clemenceau as well as
others, pleaded with the artist to consider his work on the panels as finished,
for there was all too good reason to fear that an unfortunate brushstroke could
spoil everything. But Monet would just let them talk and he would shake his
head without replying. One day he took Clemenceau by the hand and led him to
one of the canvases: "What do you think of this one?" he exclaimed maliciously.
One dared not criticize. The water looked pasty and it was thick enough to cut
with a knife. Monet explained that in the midst of his sorrow, a confidence
came over him and he saw clearly what needed to be done. He then explained
to his friend that he could not allow the panels to leave his own studio until his
demise. He had reached a point where he dreaded his own criticism more than
those of qualified eyes. He felt that what he was attempting was beyond his
powers. "Well, then I am ready to die without knowing the outcome that fate
has in store for me. I have given my paintings to my country. And I will let my
country judge me."
So let us return to our despairing Cowichan artist. The answer to the
question is this: a painting is never finished. It just settles into a resting place -
either temporary or permanent. It may lay untouched in studio storage, awaiting
the day that the artist takes a fresh approach to the old canvas. Or it hangs on
the wall of a private collection; the unsuspecting owner unaware that its creator
might have added a few more strokes.
~ Beverly J. Koski, Duncan, B.C. March, 2008
