A deeply emotional encounter

A deeply emotional encounter

I've made many pencil sketches of sleeping babies, but never a painting of such an irresistible personality, only twelve days old. The first time I took her in my arms, I hummed Brahms' Wiegenlied (Lullaby) to her. She became very still and gazed up at me with those alert enquiring eyes. It was love and understanding at first sight. I looked at her very long fingers and thought: Oh yes, she's going to be a cellist, like her late grandmother Vivian, or perhaps an oboist like her grandfather Maarten. I was deeply moved.

                        My watercolour of Liv Vivian Maria Perryman, 21 x 28 cm, July 7th 2020.

In a way, we had met before. When I painted my portrait of her mother Lorena, she was listening, nestled inside. Here's the Link to that event:

https://normanperryman.blogspot.com/2020/02/portrait-painting-as-quest.html.

Four months later, unexpectedly her mother had to be taken to hospital by ambulance. The Amsterdam stairway was too narrow, so the fire-brigade came to the rescue and Mom was whisked out of the window. Meanwhile Liv was nestling in the safe arms of her father Alex. To sooth our mutual anxiety I dashed off this little card for her, to say that her Opa was also cradling and rocking her gently in the branches of the old tree outside my window. Alex said she couldn't take her eyes off it. My dear granddaughter had become my youngest fan. (Here's the Link to my earlier painting of that tree, as a self-portrait).

Liv Perryman, born June 25th, 2020

Share my tears of joy with that lovely 3-minute Brahms Lullaby

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a single black brushstroke

a single black brushstroke

My language is the brushstroke. I load my brush, focus, then breathe out with the stroke, to make a mark full of power, peace and joy, expressing my innermost feelings. But wait...... what has happened here? This simple stroke betrays anger, distress, fragility, shattered emotions. I'm breathless, lost for words. I'm not the only one. 

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Self-portrait in a treetop

Self-portrait in a treetop

What on earth can a portrait-painter do in a lock-down crisis? As I looked in the mirror, the answer was staring me in the face. I must paint another self-portrait. It's my way to reflect, to re-assess where I'm at. I know that my face will betray my innermost feelings, so it will demand honest scrutiny and focus. That's why our self-portraits look serious. I'm thinking of Rembrandt, Van Gogh, Frida Kahlo.

I'm in self-isolation on the fourth floor of my building, virtually in the treetops. The trees are my old friends, still going strong, so we greet each other every morning. As an English boy isolated in the woodlands of Worcestershire during the war, I would climb into a treetop and cradle myself in its branches, gently swaying in the breeze, dreaming about the future, listening to the drone of propeller-driven warplanes, high up on their way to somewhere else. I can still remember that soothing feeling of being cradled. Now, nearly eighty years later, I can almost touch the branches of the plane trees of my Amsterdam street. Lock-down? I'm on top of the world.

Self-portrait in a tree-top, watercolour 42 x 41 cm. 2020.

So who is this man in the treetop? Well, he does have a critical eye, perceptive but not unfriendly. Possibly just on the verge of a smile. A quiet observer, reflecting, enquiring, empathetic, thankful to still be alive in these difficult times.

Here's the Link to an earlier blog and watercolour of my old tree.

Ravel's Kaddish with Daniel Hope

Ravel's Kaddish with Daniel Hope

Daniel Hope's series of 30 Hope@Home programmes with other prominent musicians, broadcast live by ARTE Concert from his living-room in Berlin, has provided entertainment, solace, support, joy and inspiration for millions of viewers worldwide in these difficult times, when many are in compulsory lock-down at home. His fascinating programmes of short works included part of Ravel's Kaddish - inspired by a Jewish prayer of praise and mourning. 


I painted kinetic images to this work live with Daniel Hope and Sebastian Knauer in 2016, as part of the Schleswig-Holstein Music Festival in Lübeck, to celebrate the centenary of the birth of Yehudi Menuhin, who on April 22nd. this year would have been 104. 

Daniel introduced our performance with a poignant story about his dear friend and mentor. After a performance in Düsseldorf together on March 7th 1999, with Yehudi conducting, he encouraged Daniel to play an encore. Daniel spontaneously chose the Kaddish. Yehudi listened, sitting quietly in the orchestra. It turned out to be their last concert. Five days later Yehudi passed away. 

As I painted this agonisingly beautiful work, I found it difficult not to be overcome with emotion, as my kinetic colours flowed gently away, for ever, with a very slow fade out, to a hall in total silence. We felt that we had created a worthy tribute to our dear friend. Here is the five minute video of my studio-rehearsal, for which I used Daniel's recording with pianist Jacques Ammon. 

                     

In these strange times, we can all find time to pause for five minutes to reflect, to mourn and to praise life. I hope that this slowly changing image will offer you calm and healing or even, when you need, a way to simply let go.