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Creative Energy Never Sleeps
Patricia Outram
Talk is cheap, a picture’s worth a thousand words, or at least for starters. James Picard, a well known Toronto born artist, recently hosted a grandiose solo exhibit long overdue at the Ayden Gallery in Vancouver.
Strolling through the gallery, one could hear lively interpretations and reactions to Picard’s work. Every corner offered a different kind of attraction. Delights included the Ringside Impressions series in which Picard cleverly crafts the fighter’s body disproportionately, thereby drawing viewer’s attention to the boxer’s gloves, eyes, and face. Then there was the gargantuan Tortured Man, created before a live audience at the Commodore; The Woman in a Brown Dress who never fails to intrigue and puzzle gallery goers; and The Bass Player, a playful and vivid watercolour to tickle the senses – just a few of over one hundred pieces.
Some claim Picard’s creations lack emotion. Others argue they scream it – the ethereal, the untouchable, yet thick essence possessed by each in turn, in every medium, hits everyone where it’s supposed to, that’s what is universal to the core of Picard’s works; they all evoke attitudes and feelings that span the human race, crossing the boundaries of time, touching different nerves. When art takes on that quality it commands an integrity giving it power to affect one in a deeply personal way.
What did Michelangelo, Da Vinci, Renoir, Monet, Van Gogh, Modigliani, Picasso, and Town, all have in common? They were among those who devoted their lives to art. They starved and endured great hardships before becoming wealthy or dying, yet they never gave up painting and creating feverishly until their bodies gave out. An artist of great stature has the skill and level of technical mastery coupled with a humongous drive and energy to produce all there is within. Call it creative genius, few are born with it and Picard is among them.
Picard keeps his art close to the heart. He won’t bear to part withnumerous pieces. Often refusing to sell one, unless he likes the futureowner, he’d rather go hungry, rather wait and continue painting. There’s always a commission or two to do. In between, Picard squeezes out more than a handful of new, yet unseen, pleasures close to completion: Wild Horses Running; dazzling Sunflowers reminiscent of Monet and Van Gogh’s ; The Lady of Shalot, floating amidst the reeds; Two Cows and a Maiden, who peacefully deceive an artist in dire need of sleep. Insomnia taking over, Picard painstakenly obeys destiny’s call, “I do this because I can’t sleep,” he says, somewhat troubled, “Not because I want to avoid sleep. Some people don’t understand, I don’t have a choice, when it comes to my art, I need to paint.” Patiently he teaches as he demonstrates to the umteen hundredth person. A growing need to be master of his own creations, “My best work is yet to come,” he whispers wearily. Meanwhile his watercolours, inks, oils, and acrylics are quietly making their way into private and public collections world-wide. The name Picard is starting to sound very familiar.
A gifted artist is noted in part for scope and versatility. Sitting in a coffee shop in New York (a city endlessly inspiring to Picard), he draws what he sees: a man, a woman, a couple passing by the front windows. Wait a minute, not only are all three subjects matching sizes on a miniature level, but they’re suddenly wearing 18th century garb; their clothes are from another time! At once they become The Baron, The Baron’s Mistress, and The Married Couple, a likely triptych. By the way, from whence sprungeth Grace Kelly? Or, The Woman Wearing a Flowered Dress? Some drawings look as simple to do as feats from the Cirque du Soleil, others involve complex composition, perspective, and line techniques. "Sometimes I don't even know where it comes from," Picard admits a little misty eyed.
In true European fashion, the number of self-portraits grows. “I had left over paint,” he shrugs with a coy smile as he gestures toward the oil Jaguar Relaxing on a Branch in a Tropical Rainforest, “It’s not for sale,” he says matter of factly, “That’s me, with a nice full belly, just relaxing,” the soft underbelly of the majestic cat, and the forest a mesmerizing magical blurr in the background. Then meet The Woman at the Well, and The Woman with a Loot, two yet to be discovered priceless jewels. One would be remiss not mentioning the amazing Napolean, Picard’s reproduction of David’s master work, it’s so stunning one is left breathless marvelling at the grandeur of Napoleon crossing the Alps on his white steed rearing, his cloak draped about his shoulders, index finger and arm raised as the canons advance in the distance. It’s an amazing work of art and Picard’s painted it beautifully. It's a treasure. Picard kids you not when he says his best work is yet to come; he’s about to pool his talents with world renowned composer and pianist, George Blondheim and Bernard Zolner. There’s to be a Symphonia Masonica in Edmonton on June 12th. Try to wrap your head around this – the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra is pereforming a three movement symphony celebrating the Renaissance society dominated by guilds and the importance of trades in the city. One must stretch ones imagination to fathom what this show will be! It’s to be made into a movie and taken on a world tour. It’s a day meant for celebrating art at its finest, before a live audience, Blondheim conducting while Picard completes a painting during the show, it gives me shivers.
Picard is still unsure what he will paint. “I don’t think I can do too much to prepare,” he assures. “I won't know until I pick up the brush. I have to let the art speak to me. I can only plan so much.” Could this be another reason why Picard doesn’t sleep? The prospects of a great canvas and paints in the spot light seems to agree with him. Will this be his best work? How will he interpret the three degrees of masonry as composed by Blondheim and Zolner? It’s thrilling to think how this show will affect and stimulate the audience. Try imagining Leonardo Davinci painting on stage to the live music of Beethoven, it's quite a fantasy. Combining live symphony music to fine art promises to create a great stir with the public. Of course, dignitaries and other officials who have joined to back this amazing endeavour will be present. A civilization can never reach its peak unless it supports its artists. A world without art is like a desert. Humanity seems ready to unite in one form or another, perhaps the time is ripe, we need a concert like this to elevate the state of art around the world today, and bring people together in a universal language.
Now what do you say? Is talk cheap? Not with the right company over a glass of wine, to the music of the one and only George Blondheim. The temptation to take off one’s hat, bow down, and spend some time becoming better acquainted with the art of James Picard has never been so compelling.