artist’s vision: alan fishman

What makes us stop in our tracks to really look at a work of art? What pulls us toward and into certain images? For me, one of life’s great, essential experiences is not just making art, but looking at it. The feeling of being stopped in my tracks is always a big bonus. But it’s a special kind of a bonus when I’m stopped in my tracks by art I’ve been living with for a long time…

For the past twenty one years I’ve lived, worked, and created a family with another artist, painter Alan Fishman. I’ve known that at some point I would write about Alan’s work here in This Playground, but I haven’t consciously known exactly what I might write about. Until last night, when I was stopped in my tracks by a painting I not only saw in many stages of its creation, but one that has been in our home for a few years.

It was this painting above, entitled Mirage 2. I thought I knew it really well. I’ve spent a lot of time with it. There’s so much I know I love about it. But last night I saw it as if for the first time.

I saw the dark ghostly sailboat on the right…the trace of a strong memory or the premonition of something in the future…

and I saw the cool blue glow at the bottom of the painting…like a phosphorescent wave…

What makes a painting like Mirage 2 come to life, over and over again? Beyond the obvious–colors, shapes, energy of line and composition–I think that what’s captivating us is the artist’s vision. Color, shape, line, and subject might give us pause for at least a moment, but it’s the vision–the inner world rendered–that fills us, takes root, and lingers… it’s the spirit we’ll carry away from the work, which returns to us in waves, again and again. The sense of a unique world. The curious, dreamy, absolutely one-of-a-kind incarnation of the artist’s spirit.

Because Alan’s studio (like mine) is here in our home, I see work all the time, and I see it in many stages of evolution. I see sketches that may lead to paintings

and I see ideas appear and disappear…

But just because I see the work in even it’s most primal form…

doesn’t mean that I know everything there is to know about the eventual painting.

Which is why living with a work of art for a long time can be quite the experience.

It’s no accident that many critics and writers have described Alan’s work as lyrical. As an artist, he’s not only a painter, but also a formidable classical pianist.

Take another look at Alan’s work, and you’ll see the sound… the lush music, the phrasing, the melodies and harmonies, the dissonance and rhythms…

And look again tomorrow and you’ll see, like I did, more and more and more…