Up Your Sleeve!
January 2016. It all starts with a dream. They all do. I am in a room that is not altogether private. Large chunks of the wall are missing. To the right is a series of stations, to the left those substandard walls. Peering through a large gap I become aware of Satan watching me, an uncomfortable feeling to say the least. I try to avoid his gaze and wish the lights could be dimmed. Curiously I receive a directive from him to undertake a pilgrimage or penance. Satan? You okay?
I choose a background with a large feature wall. I have an idea to create a painting on it. I bring in a few stations of the cross. Place them within the painting. They belong to the Catholic tradition which is not mine, but mine lacks in the area of shrines, pilgrimages and general colour.
Many of my collages have to do with theatre, both the setting and dramatic aspects. They’re not high enough to be called tragedies; rather, they’re perched variously between tragedy at the one end and downright slapstick at the other. A kind of tragicomedy.
While I am working on this piece, my father is dying. He has been dying for years but now he’s really dying. Congestive heart failure. He’s an old guy and his heart is tired. A brother and sister-in-law come to help out. There is little anyone can do aside from taking care of basic needs: helping him to the bathroom, feeding him, putting him on the oxygen tank. Mostly we sit with him. He’s extremely restless and disoriented but occasionally lucid. I love those moments. I sit and stroke his hand. He has beautiful hands. Long fingers. My brother tells me the custom among the Embaloh people is to stay with the dying until they are gone, someone at each limb stroking and soothing. What a comfort this must be.
My finished work emerges after a rather long process. I begin with a kind of story line but depending on the material I find, the particulars change. Usually I start with the background and once that is more or less figured out, I can think about the characters, plot and subplot. In ‘Up Your Sleeve’, I want the crucifixion theme to dominate but not exclusively. A foil seems necessary. Ah! The magician. It takes hours, days to arrive here. I cut figures out, place them and leave. Walk the dog. Come back and rearrange the figures. Look at them sideways. At some point I make decisions and commit myself to a version.
My dad is a religious man. A minister for many years. His themes are salvation, the cross, the hope. These days he speaks little but sermonizes, prays and sings hymns all night. In low German mostly. My mother doesn’t sleep.
I think about my dad’s life. Soon it will be over. Or maybe not. He has fooled us many times. Fortunately however, my collage is finished, varnished and titled.
No Tidy Ending In Sight