Forger's Masterclass - Ep.04 - Claude Monet

 

Fantastic program on the methods and approach of Claude Monet by a master forger who was imprisoned for forging hundreds of paintings by various notable artists. Amazing!!

Cobleskill Coal. This 19th century building sits north of the tracks in the upstate New York town of Cobleskill.

Amish Farm in Lancaster Pennsylvania

This is a watercolor painting of an Amish farm in Lancaster Pennsylvania. Driving through the back roads of this region can be like taking a trip back in time. This farm, while there were utility poles at points along the street had no electrical or phone lines serving the home or out buildings. Truly "off the grid!"

J.M.W. Turner

          

J.M.W Turner

This if a fabulous video discussing Turner's art and technique which Mr. Keating then demonstrates by reproducing one of Turner's paintings using tempera. If you're an artist, this is a must see!

Robert Frost: The Premier Poet of the 20th Century

Watercolor Painting of Robert Frost's farm in Derry, New Hampshire

Probably the most notable American poet of the 20th century is Robert Frost. He had such a large impact on American art and language that public buildings such as libraries and schools bear his name today. The middle school I attended in my youth was named Robert Frost Middle School. I payed no mind to him in those days, his was just another institutional name to me. In 1988 I read an excerpt of a poem of his in a book called "An Incomplete Education" by Judy Jones and William Wilson, which was written for people like me who had no liberal arts university education but had come to a point in life where I recognized that I was basically educationally bankrupt. The book was written in the style of a cook book with snapshots of important people and events that had taken place over the past three or four thousand years written about like recipes highlighting the most important features of the subject. Of course Frost was included in the book and this was my first acquaintance with his work.
Here is the excerpt of the poem I read:

Young Robert Frost

Someone’s road home from work this once was,
Who may be just ahead of you on foot
Or creaking with a buggy load of grain.
The height of the adventure is the height
Of country where two village cultures faded
Into each other. Both of them are lost.
And if you’re lost enough to find yourself
By now, pull in your ladder road behind you
And put a sign up CLOSED to all but me.
Then make yourself at home. The only field
Now left’s no bigger than a harness gall.
First there’s the children’s house of make-believe,
Some shattered dishes underneath a pine,
The playthings in the playhouse of the children.
Weep for what little things could make them glad.

When I read those last four lines I stopped dead...I had known the exact emotional
response that Frost was speaking about but I had never thought of the words to 
express it, neither had I ever heard anyone express this thought and emotion before. With a hand full of words he captured an emotion that was buried deep inside me but had never had the language to dig it out, to bring it to the surface and to confront it.  That day I was hooked. I spent the next weeks looking for and buying every book I could find by or about Robert Frost. After about 6 months of reading I had been schooled in philosophy sociology, psychology, aesthetics, art, literature, religion and language through his poems, letters, and biographies.

If you've never had the experience of reading highly-charged compressed language before, I strongly encourage you to read some. Here are a few poets that are very gifted in this art:
Sharon Olds   Gwendolyn Brooks
Sylvia Plath   Dylan Thomas
Philip Roth     Randall Jarrell
James Dickey  Robinson Jeffers
Donald Hall    E.A. Robinson
Robert Hass    Maxine Kumin
Stanley Kunitz  Philip Levine

Friedensall Lutheran Church in Seven Valleys Pa. Built in 1752

Friedensall Lutheran Church 1752
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One of the oldest church buildings in Pennsylvania is the Friedensall Lutheran Church on White Church Road in Seven Valleys. It was built in 1752. It's still in quite amazing condition. Below is a map of the location of the church just southeast of the small village of Seven Valleys.

Emily Dickinson American Poet

Rear View of Dickinson Homestead

East View of Dickinson Homestead

These are two paintings of Emily Dickinson's house in Amherst, Massachusetts. The top one is a view from the rear of the house and the bottom is a view from the side yard. These are impressionistic paintings in which I tried to capture the almost surreal feeling I had while walking around the house and through the garden that is still kept up with lots of flowering plants. I have spent some time reading her poetry and looking into her life through several books that I managed to find in used bookstores on Long Island. The single most amazing fact about her is that she never published her poems. They were found by her relatives (probably her brother) tied up in neat little bundles in her dresser drawer. One fascinating book was actually a collection of her letters to various people in her life like her brother and Thomas Higginson a friend and critic of her poems. Here is a letter she wrote to the critic:
25 April 1862

Mr Higginson,
Your kindness claimed earlier gratitude-but I was ill-and write today, from my pillow.
Thank you for the surgery- it was not so painful as I supposed. I bring you others-as you ask-though they might not differ-
While my thought is undressed-I can make the distinction, but when I put them in the Gown - they look alike, and numb.
You asked how old I was? I made no verse-but one or two-until this winter - Sir-
I had a terror-since September-I could tell to none-and so I sing, as the Boy does by the Burying Ground-because I am afraid- You inquire my Books-For Poets-I have Keats-and Mr and Mrs Browning. For Prose - Mr Ruskin - Sir Thomas Browne - and the Revelations. I went to school-but in your manner of the phrase-had no education. When a little Girl, I had a friend, who taught me Im- mortality-but venturing too near, himself-he never returned-Soon after, my Tutor, died - and for several years, my Lexicon - was my only companion-Then I found one more-but he was not contented I be his scholar-so he left the Land.
You ask of my Companions Hills- Sir-and the Sundown-and a Dog-large as myself, that my Father bought me-They are better than Beings-because they know-but do not tell-and the noise in the Pool, at Noon - excels my Piano. I have a Brother and Sister - My Mother does not care for thought-and Father, too busy with his Briefs - to notice what we do - He buys me many Books - but begs me not to rcad thcm-because he fears they joggle the Mind. They are religious-except me-and address an Eclipse, every morning-whom they call their "Father." But I fear my story fatigues you-I would like to learn-Could you tell me how to grow-or is it unconveyed- like Melody-or Witchcraft?
You speak of Mr Whitman-I never read his Book-but was told that he was disgraceful-
I read Miss Prcscott's "Circumstance," but it followed me, in the Dark-so I avoided her-
Two Editors of Journals came to my Father's House, this winter- and asked me for my Mind-and when I asked them "Why," they said I was penurious - and they, would use it for the World -
I could not weigh myself-Myself-
My size felt small- to me- I read your Chapters in the Atlantic- and experienced honor for you-I was sure you would not reject a confiding question-
Is this- Sir-what you asked me to tell you?
Your friend,
E - Dickinson.

Rear Entrance Emily Dickinson House 

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