Exhibition Catalog Essay: Inland Romance

Oakton Community College William A. Koehnline Gallery
September-October 2001

A Painting in the Mural Scale: Nonverbal Demonstration

Gerald Nordland

Visual art is a nonverbal language, which addresses the mind fully as much as it does the eye. It is both a language and an instrument of expression. It conjures objects and new worlds, and revivifies old ones with surprising vigor and strength, often greater than the novel or the film. The visual arts can shock and stir up lives, suggest new careers and encourage experiment. As Jean Dubuffet would say, “I believe that painting is more difficult than the written word, and a much more rich instrument for the expression of thought.”

John Himmelfarb is a Midwesterner, who comes from a family of artists. Born in Chicago, he was raised in the country near Winfield, Illinois. Both of his parents were painters, and his father also excelled in architectural design, supervising the construction of the family’s remarkable modernist home and studio. Himmelfarb drew and painted as a child and persuaded his father to permit him to work quietly in the studio. During high school he got away from the visual arts. He confronted Latin and French and applied himself to music. He studied piano and violin, and participated in the youth symphony. Early in his Harvard years, he reconciled himself that he would not make a significant addition to music, and he began to look toward other fields. He wanted to make a social contribution, so he entered a pre-architecture program that led into urban planning. During the second half of his junior year, he enrolled in an independent study program in drawing and decided that becoming an artist was his destiny. He later earned an M.A. in Education Arts. With his decision to become an artist, he reconsidered the social utility of art and upgraded its capacity to make life more livable for others.

Himmelfarb has been drawing, painting and making prints for 30 years. His works are included in many private collections and more than 20 museum collections in 13 states, the District of Columbia and four foreign nations. Most observers of the art scene are sensitive to the gradual changes that take place in an artist’s work over time: phases evolve and proliferate; some ideas disappear, only to return later. Himmelfarb’s phases of change can be as short as two or three years or as long as nine or ten, and they sometimes overlap briefly.

His earliest personal work began with densely worked pen and ink drawings, patterned web like markings drawn from daily life, depicting neighborhoods, villages, or entire cities with roads and highways, bridges, houses; various new and outmoded structures, arches and ladders; and people and animals emulsified into an aerial overview. Closely worked sheets as large as 4 by 8 feet have been created- compulsive tapestries of fine-nibbed pen strokes, artfully dispersed patterns of black and white, near- abstractions of elemental drawing.

Himmelfarb accepts the descriptive word automatism to characterize his drawings. In their making, the artist moves from intuition to realization through a chain of subjective reactions. On close study, specific images emerge to be recognized and then fall back into the web as other images take precedence. In successive phases, quasi-human-animal figures made their appearance; floral black on white calligraphic works on unsized canvas presented themselves; a black and white, overloaded boatman showed up and later found a second stage of life in robust color. Ever-larger human heads, pushed forward out of a patterned field shared with an animalian figure, obsessed the artist for nearly a decade. The Non-Objective group derived from the natural patterns and interactions of trees, shrubbery, earth and rock formations, forming an important phase. The most recent period, Inland Romance, involves the superimposition of multiple lattice-screens over an organic ground, establishing shallow but active space with progressively larger-scale colored lattices interacting forward and backward in the canvas space.
Himmelfarb’s work is rooted in drawing and mark making. He is skillful without the wish to make it appear so. He draws simply, selecting aspects of our known world. He draws fluently, outlining, hatching- with a steady flow of ideas and transitions, and an overall senses of balance and rhythmic distribution of darks and lights- permitting his forms to spill out into a maze of observation, incident and anecdote, edge-to-edge. With another pen nib, another tool or a Japanese brush, he would find a new gesture and a proper grammar for the marker to produce distinctive things, permitting the tool and the medium to decide the form of the mark and the style of the image. “I get a little nervous when the narrative element becomes too important and the investment in medium and process becomes less so,” he says. “There is always a tug-of-war between content and abstraction, narrative and form.”

The painting grew out of the drawing process and the tension between figuration and abstraction. In an early period he drew on canvas in the same manner as he did on paper, only to systematically paint color into the descriptive forms and areas. His black and white gestural works on unsized canvas were truly large-scaled drawings. The huge human heads- The Meetings series- brought system to an overall pattern in which heads are almost as hidden as they are revealed by a pattern of drawing strokes. The Non-Objective works were expressions of a landscape sensibility, in tension with an abstract esthetic, on a large scale and with clear discipline. The Inland Romance phase takes similar pleasure in form, but pushes it backward in space by means of overlaying lattice-screens, and each is handled in its own distinctive palette, texture and breadth of line.

Himmelfarb acknowledges the influence of two 20th-century European artists: Jean Dubuffet (1901-1985) and Pierre Alechinsky (b. 1927). Dubuffet was French, and though drawn to art and painting in his early years, he rejected academic art teaching in Paris, only returning to painting in midlife. He questioned reason and logic, was impatient with museum art and leaned toward the ‘raw art’ of soldier and mental patients. He looked toward the “underground where the sap was much richer.” Alechinsky, born in Brussels, Belgium, trained as a book designer but gave it up to be a painter and printmaker. Alechinksy joined the COBRA group with Jorn, Corneille and Appel in 1949, believing with them in direct expression unguided by intellect, in spontaneous expressionism and unrestrained gestures.

Since Himmelfarb was born in 1946, he did not attend the Dubuffet exhibition at the Arts Club of Chicago in 1951-52, nor hear Dubuffet’s famous lecture. His parents did attend those events, and catalogs of the work of Dubuffet, Picasso and Pollock were available at home. Himmelfarb became acquainted early with those sources, finding Dubuffet’s direct and unpretentious way inspiring. Dubuffet has had a wide influence, opening eyes to the arts of savages, ‘primitive art,’ ‘outsider art,’ the art of children and prisoner. His unapologetic directness, experimentation with unorthodox materials and childlike rendering have opened a door to the world, comparable to the influences of Picasso and Paul Klee. Himmelfarb acquired original prints by Alechinsky, whose embrace of spontaneous gestural drawing and deformation in depictions of figures, beasts and animals; coloring-in with paint of linear demarcations; and the use of marginal notations of collateral and supportive drawing have served as motifs in all his media.

It has been 30 years since Himmelfarb established his separate studio, first sought gallery representation, began to have works purchased, found his work included in group shows, and received occasional awards and honors. The odyssey has not been an easy or uneventful one, nor has it developed without risk, chutzpah and enterprise outside the studio. In early years the painter held private showings in his studio for prospective collectors and drove to various cities to hold weekend showings at friends’ homes for selected invitees. He would remove all art, replace it with his own and set out a rack portfolio. Income from these forays helped to maintain home, family and full-time studio practice until the galleries began to show interest. For a period, he made it a practice to write to curators and museum directors in neighboring states, introducing himself and his work. When invited by them to visit, he dropped by with a portfolio and a few paintings to provide a first-hand viewing of his new work, and to remind them of its variety and growth. These ventures have resulted in purchases of prints and drawings, and a few invitations to exhibit paintings within those same museums.

The exhibition of three mural-scale canvases at the William A. Koehnline Gallery, Oakton Community College, is inspired by the artist’s studio practice and the continuing tension between abstraction and figuration in his work. Nathan Harpaz, the Gallery’s curator, was in Himmelfarb’s studio to select works for an exhibition when he first saw a 30-foot canvas, at that time committed to a show in New Zealand. Harpaz inquired whether Himmelfarb would consider painting three canvases on such a scale for the Koehnline show. The two negotiated and Himmelfarb agreed to present three, quite large (12 by 30 feet) canvases, in the process of being painted, in that exhibition.

Two of the works were begun and developed to a point of preliminary satisfaction over a period of weeks. The third canvas, sized and ready to paint, will be untouched at the beginning of the exhibition, but will be developed during the period of the show. As Himmelfarb works on the new canvas, he will periodically re-examine the two earlier compositions. He expects to make adjustments and revisions to them, as he senses the need. In normal circumstances a painting may reach completion in a few days, but it might require many months to be solved, depending upon size and available studio time. The artist will maintain posted office hours at the Koehnline Gallery just as though he were a staff member, coming regularly and working his normal studio day.

This unusual collaboration between artist and the gallery at Oakton Community College makes it possible for students, faculty and local residents of Des Plaines to observe the progress of the three paintings from time to time and to gain an understanding of the visual artist’s creative process. Himmelfarb began the first two canvases in his Chicago studio, working boldly in an expressionist manner, with large brushes and a freer gesture than has been typical of his earlier work. He worked swiftly with strong colors in a rhythmic pattern he devised.
The third painting will relate to the first two canvases and will seek to achieve a unity of attitude, technique, gesture and openness with the others, as might three sections of one musical composition. There will be an openness in these works from the white ground, which is unusual in the artist’s work and which affords a welcome contrast for the strong color. Patterns of working in lattice-screens may recur, as will the constant tension between figuration and abstraction. In following the evolution of the three works, the audience may be perplexed, prompted to question the artist or be surprised by the outcome. Three large, colorful and related paintings will be seen in the process of being realized by on of the most skilled and thoughtful painters now working in the Chicago metropolitan area. Most significantly, observers will have the privilege through this showing to acquire a first-hand insight into the nature of the creative act and the process of improvisation, adjustment and revision which poets, novelists, composers, playwrights and architects face daily in the act of creation. Gaining an insight into one branch of the creative arts is of great utility, since it makes it easier to grasp the issues, efforts, risks and rewards of invention in all the other branches.

The Koehline exhibition is a special event. It is, to some extent, a controversial endeavor: risky and time-consuming for both the Gallery and the artist. Both are being challenged to take full advantage of a fresh situation. The great merit of it rests in its openness to possibilities for the spectators-students, faculty members and greater college public- for expanding awareness, encouraging imaginative risk taking, identifying the spirit of play and improvisation in the creative life, and recognizing that experiments in education can be valuable keys to the future. At the end of the show it is to be expected that a number of skeptical members of the academic community will be unexpectedly inspired by this experience.

Himmelfarb’s commitment to this "on site" painting display is a courageous expression of the confidence gained in his years of studio practice, the poise and experience he has found in posing creative problems for himself and his success in carrying them through to a professional conclusion. He once painted a 60 by 90 inch Meeting period canvas for a bank in Iowa as people looked on, and he conducted an open-studio project in Sioux City, which is somewhat parallel to Oakton. In speaking of the Oakton experiment he said, “Intuitions must be paid attention to, not ignored. One has to listen to them. There will have to be something to see; one has to make decisions and go forward. One can’t stall or ‘put off’. If one goes ‘wrong,’ he will have to be able to catch it, correct it and make it work.”

To many in the lay audience the visual arts are inexplicable. Enormous respect is granted to such venerated overachievers as Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, Michelangelo and Rembrandt, but only specialists have a clear idea of how those artists’ iconic works were conceived and brought to completion. To be sure, there were scattered onlookers when Leonardo painted The Last Supper (1495-97). Raphel was joined by a group of pupils and assistants, as well as attendants and emissaries of Julius II, when he painted and supervised work on The School of Athens (1509-1512). There were both clerical and lay observers of Michelangelo’s prolonged endeavor in the Sistine Chapel (1508-12). Rembrandt’s students learned from his studio directions and demonstrations, but there were few who kept notebooks or records on how the historic milestones were achieved, or troubled to communicate their knowledge to successive generations.

Comparatively, the isolated Vincent van Gogh (1853-90) is better documented, only because of his thoughtful and troubled letters to his brother. In parallel, one can imagine watching Pablo Picasso develop Guernica (1937) or Willem de Kooning’s process in making Excavation (1950), now at the Art Institute of Chicago. In the days of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Works Progress Administration, it was common for public muralists to go about their creative work while citizens queued-up for stamps or to send a parcel. Anton Refregier (1905-79), the Russian American muralist, faced such an audience when he created his controversial murals for San Francisco’s Rinon Annex post office in 1946-48. The mural integrated images from the history of California, including shameful events as well as prideful ones, and some political critics expressed immediate disapproval of the artist’s choices.

In a more recent case Jon Schueler (1916-92), an American painter who divided his last years between New York City and Mallaig, Scotland, was invited to paint an exhibition at the Talbot Rice Art Centre, University of Edinburgh, while visitors looked on. He brought his worktable, paints, brushes, ladders and six canvases into a gallery measuring 50 by 50 feet and proceeded to develop a suite of paintings during August and September 1981. Schueler’s subject matter was drawn form the convulsive and stormy skies of the Western Scottish Highlands, where climatic activity is so tumultuous that the artist’s objective was to record his response to the constant dynamic change in the sky. Visitors followed the progress from the balcony, watching quietly, sometimes discussing matters among themselves and occasionally approaching the artist after hours. Some observers returned often, and others did so as their schedules permitted throughout the two-month period of the event. Powerful and distinctive images appeared in the paintings, then evolved, were revised and brought to completion. In other cases images dissolved and found new form and expression before completion.

The artist’s ‘performance’- in Edinburgh or in Des Plaines- is never an entertainment, but a serious demonstration of belief in an educational principle that cannot be made clear in any other way. Through it the creative process is exposed to a new public in the most honest and forthright manner possible.

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1. Jean Dubuffet, "Anticultural Positions," a lecture given at the Arts Club of Chicago, Thursday, Dec. 20, 1951. (Xerox reproduction of the manuscript given by the artist to Maurice E. Culberg, Dec. 21, 1951.)
2. When asked to list his most rewarding experiences in the arts, Himmelfarb listed: (1-2) the first two of his five, one-man exhibitions at Terry Dintenfass Gallery, New York; (3) the Kalamazoo (Mich.) Institute of Arts exhibition because of its broad scope and its inclusion in three other museum exhibitions; (4) the Davenport (Iowa) Art Museum exhibition of all black and white works in drawing, prints and painting; and (5) the Sioux City Art Center (Iowa) exhibition which utilized all three floors and the Guggenheim-like atrium.
3. Interview with John Himmelfarb in his Chicago studio, July 12, 2001.
4. John Schueler, The Sound of Sleat: A Painter's Life. Magda Salvesen and Diane Cousineau, eds. N.Y.: Picador USA (an imprint of St. Martin's Press), 1999. The dimensions of the six canvases were as follows: two at 18 feet wide; three at 14 feet wide; one at 10 feet wide.