Still making my way through Delacroix's journals, reading bits and pieces when I have a moment. One of the best bits in the journal is the disgust he feels for Ingres. Basically he heaps scorn and disdain on Ingres' work and character whenever he brings him up. I wonder if the rivalry was two ways. It would be juicy to read what Ingres thought of Delacroix. I shall have to look for some documentation about this when I get a chance. Of course Delacroix's work is so very different from Ingres, and I have to say that I prefer it. Ingres is too close to the Italian Mannerists - I see a lot of Bronzino in his work with those porcelain looking figures. I am amazed by technical ability, but I need something more - I need engagement. Mannerism always keeps its distance. Yep, its all about desire rather than passion - one mental - one physical.

Still I really admire the way Bronzino and Ingres are so in your face with the clear falsity of their vision. The impossible elongations, the shimmering details and the glassine flesh are all there making "reality" seem so boring and inconsequential - I mean wouldn't you rather date the hot chick with the trick back and feather duster? I think this is part of Delacroix's critique. This is not how lived experience feels or looks. In D's journals he is also discussing colour in ways that the impressionists were to explore later. He's using his eyes, looking for a new vision against the academy - and you've got to admire that!

Delcroix entry on April 23, 1854
"...Great artists alone are clear about what they set out to do, and throughout the execution of the work, whether this be prolonged or rapid. Can a mediocre artist, wholly occupied with questions of technique, ever achieve this result by means of a highly skilful handling of details which obscure the idea instead of bringing it to light? It is unbelievable how vague the majority of artists are about the elementary rules of composition. Why should they worry over the problem of retaining through their execution an idea which they never even possessed? "
This was a lesson learned by Matisse who was a stickler for composition. He was forever going on about the plumb line, and he fretted over placement around that line. Composition is a big force in painting, and for that matter in all the arts - right down to the room full of stacked and placed junk. It's why every artist you've ever talked with goes on and on about space - whether they actually know anything about it or not. Composition can make or break a work and if it isn't strong you'll find yourself lost in details just as Delacroix speaks about in his journal. It's in composition that the idea, the force of the work is felt, and it is what drives great artists to drink. I still love this story about Picasso - when Francoise Gilot asked him how he felt about Delacroix's work, he allegedly narrowed his eyes and said, "That bastard. He's really good."

I haven't been to see art in a couple of weeks - the truth is I can't look at the mush the galleries are peddling. I've spent my time in the studio looking hard at my work. It's difficult to stay put when the days are so beautiful - like we've been having her in NYC, but I don't have as much time to work as I would like, and every moment I do get in the studio is a blessing. I've been looking with intention and moving things around a bit, pushing the spaces into one another and folding the figurative element over on itself. This morning, before heading out to the day job, I had managed to find the visual thread and it locked into place - I think it's coming together - finally. The color is strong and the movement is hard and fast. I'm happy with where it's going and excited to get back to it. But it will have to wait for now...