Bei Nacht
Bei Nacht (At Night on the High Seas)
At night, when the sea cradles me
And the pale star gleam
Lies down on its broad waves,
Then I free myself wholly
From all activity and all the love
And stand silent and breathe purely,
Alone, alone cradled by the sea
That lies there, cold and silent, with a thousand lights.
Then I have to think of my friends
And my gaze sinks into their gazes
And I ask each one, silent, alone:
"Are you still mine?
Is my sorrow a sorrow to you, my death a death?
Do you feel from my love, my grief,
Just a breath, just an echo?"
And the sea peacefully gazes back, silent,
And smiles: no.
And no greeting and no answer comes from anywhere.
- Hermann Hesse
Artist's Statement
These works are largely inspired by Hermann Hesse's poem “Bei Nacht.” (The translation of the title is “At Night” (or “By Night”)). In the poem, Hesse, while alone at sea in the Malaysian archipelago, contemplates his friends and his friendships and attempts to quantify his level of connectedness to them. Hesse's writing has been a longtime source of inspiration and I am particularly drawn to this poem because of its simplicity and universal appeal; each of us, at times, has endeavored to assess our selves and our lives using those we know and love as barometers of a sort. We measure ourselves with them, by them. Each of us wants to know what the sum of our existence is; we want to know and understand how much we matter, to what degree we are loved and are irreplaceable. I love Hesse's metaphor of being alone - a single being – floating at night, the sea's dark mass reflecting the innumerable stars, because it helps reinforce the only conclusion that makes any sense: that we are all ultimately alone. Our relationships, our friendships, our loves, do not completely connect us to one another. Each of us has an individual self, an individual mind, an individual heart, an individual life and an individual death. But individual life is not without solace—notice that the sea smiles. For Hesse, his (and our) solitude is not a source of sadness, it is simply the way it is, and in that fact he finds some peace, some solidarity: we are joined together in our solitude.
Prior to Bei Nacht, I had been working on a series of precise figure drawings using Japanese pens in a limited palette and wanted to find a way of translating that kind of simplicity to my work on canvas. It has been my custom to use German graphite sticks to do the preliminary drawings in my paintings and the idea occurred to me that I could draw directly onto a canvas covered with wet gesso and then minimally apply paint to the wet surface. This technique was to be an exercise in both drawing and painting with a focus on making conservative color choices. “The Swimmer” and “The Dancer” were the first two paintings in this series, and as such they are the closest to that ideal. “The Enemy” and “The Prophet” are the last in the series and are perhaps the furthest from that ideal because, as time went by, my focus wavered and I reverted back to my natural artistic instincts, which lean toward heavy, expressionistic brushwork and a more vigorous palette. As the collection developed, I began to see that by working directly into wet paint and gesso I was also exploring the joy and beauty of simple mark-making. I almost always prefer making aggressive and spontaneous marks over making timid and orchestrated marks; the former seem to contain more purpose and power and they are much more fun to make. The drawings, too, are partially an exercise in the joy of mark-making and the beauty of the line. As a collection, the works are held together by a shared focus on line, muted color, and a general solemnity of feeling.
Most importantly, these works are the result of my return to Kentucky after several years living abroad, where I found creative and personal freedom; coming back has forced me to confront the complicated emotions connected to my home and as a consequence I have had to face the ghosts I carry with me. Each piece has a personal subtext, but I feel it unnecessary to divulge that subtext completely; for that reason, the figures are deliberately ambiguous and slightly peculiar—they are memories and elegies and not of the physical world. Each is particularly and carefully titled and represents a specific friend, relationship, archetype or experience in my life. My hope is that the viewer recognizes and responds to the emotional currents within the works and sees them as a symbol for the universal experience of the human quest for synchronicity.
At night, when the sea cradles me
And the pale star gleam
Lies down on its broad waves,
Then I free myself wholly
From all activity and all the love
And stand silent and breathe purely,
Alone, alone cradled by the sea
That lies there, cold and silent, with a thousand lights.
Then I have to think of my friends
And my gaze sinks into their gazes
And I ask each one, silent, alone:
"Are you still mine?
Is my sorrow a sorrow to you, my death a death?
Do you feel from my love, my grief,
Just a breath, just an echo?"
And the sea peacefully gazes back, silent,
And smiles: no.
And no greeting and no answer comes from anywhere.
- Hermann Hesse
Artist's Statement
These works are largely inspired by Hermann Hesse's poem “Bei Nacht.” (The translation of the title is “At Night” (or “By Night”)). In the poem, Hesse, while alone at sea in the Malaysian archipelago, contemplates his friends and his friendships and attempts to quantify his level of connectedness to them. Hesse's writing has been a longtime source of inspiration and I am particularly drawn to this poem because of its simplicity and universal appeal; each of us, at times, has endeavored to assess our selves and our lives using those we know and love as barometers of a sort. We measure ourselves with them, by them. Each of us wants to know what the sum of our existence is; we want to know and understand how much we matter, to what degree we are loved and are irreplaceable. I love Hesse's metaphor of being alone - a single being – floating at night, the sea's dark mass reflecting the innumerable stars, because it helps reinforce the only conclusion that makes any sense: that we are all ultimately alone. Our relationships, our friendships, our loves, do not completely connect us to one another. Each of us has an individual self, an individual mind, an individual heart, an individual life and an individual death. But individual life is not without solace—notice that the sea smiles. For Hesse, his (and our) solitude is not a source of sadness, it is simply the way it is, and in that fact he finds some peace, some solidarity: we are joined together in our solitude.
Prior to Bei Nacht, I had been working on a series of precise figure drawings using Japanese pens in a limited palette and wanted to find a way of translating that kind of simplicity to my work on canvas. It has been my custom to use German graphite sticks to do the preliminary drawings in my paintings and the idea occurred to me that I could draw directly onto a canvas covered with wet gesso and then minimally apply paint to the wet surface. This technique was to be an exercise in both drawing and painting with a focus on making conservative color choices. “The Swimmer” and “The Dancer” were the first two paintings in this series, and as such they are the closest to that ideal. “The Enemy” and “The Prophet” are the last in the series and are perhaps the furthest from that ideal because, as time went by, my focus wavered and I reverted back to my natural artistic instincts, which lean toward heavy, expressionistic brushwork and a more vigorous palette. As the collection developed, I began to see that by working directly into wet paint and gesso I was also exploring the joy and beauty of simple mark-making. I almost always prefer making aggressive and spontaneous marks over making timid and orchestrated marks; the former seem to contain more purpose and power and they are much more fun to make. The drawings, too, are partially an exercise in the joy of mark-making and the beauty of the line. As a collection, the works are held together by a shared focus on line, muted color, and a general solemnity of feeling.
Most importantly, these works are the result of my return to Kentucky after several years living abroad, where I found creative and personal freedom; coming back has forced me to confront the complicated emotions connected to my home and as a consequence I have had to face the ghosts I carry with me. Each piece has a personal subtext, but I feel it unnecessary to divulge that subtext completely; for that reason, the figures are deliberately ambiguous and slightly peculiar—they are memories and elegies and not of the physical world. Each is particularly and carefully titled and represents a specific friend, relationship, archetype or experience in my life. My hope is that the viewer recognizes and responds to the emotional currents within the works and sees them as a symbol for the universal experience of the human quest for synchronicity.
