Brian and I stopped at the DMA for a visit and stumbled upon the works of Mark Bradford. One look at the description revealed that the painterly constructs were made with mixed media. Most importantly, found paper and glue/paint/etc.
Though I try writing about art frequently, I still find it hard. Rather, I do not like to try to describe how some art works can grip you by the eyes and pull our heart up into your mouth. It was like that at first. Then, like easing yourself into a hot bath, you move from one work to another—each giving you a new wave of warmth. It’s so easy you move more and more slowly from work to work and when you’ve passed all the walls, the water gets lukewarm, you wonder why it didn’t keep on going.
Yes, I’d rather say that then find the correct context for the art. I don’t want to ground it in history. I want it to live and ease people’s eyes from the harsh light of the city into a room lite with old lamps which give off yellow light. You get all the rest when you spend enough time with the art.
It was beyond good. I don’t get that feeling often. It was beginning to become a little too rare. Yet if I have to wait for it, wait years for it, and have it come like this…then what else would I do but wait?