Beauty is an experience. Beauty is subjective. Beauty is a kick in the pants.
The definition of beauty is elusive, but for many artists, beauty is a siren song, a guiding star, a raison d’être, a passion. The three artists participating in the exhibition “Along the Hudson River: Three New York Artists,” on view at the TNC (Theater of the New City) Gallery March 20 through April 30, all have different ideas of what beauty is, but those views are sympathetic, consonant, mutually supportive.
Robin Kappy actively seeks beauty. It’s not just what she finds in nature, fodder for her artwork. It’s also what she sees and responds to in her clients. Kappy’s day job is working as a psychotherapist.
“I used to struggle, going from painting and drawing to the different perspective of being present and listening to clients,” says Kappy. “But I slowly integrated myself as a therapist and an artist. In a way, it’s the same thing—listening and observing, looking for and seeing what is beautiful in the model in front of me and the client in front of me. I have discovered that this is what my clients come to me for, though they may not realize it: I find the beauty within them.”
But what is beauty? “I think about that all the time,” she says. “It’s a complex question. Beauty is an experience. We can think of what’s beautiful and what’s not, but if we open ourselves up… there is beauty all around us, every day. By not being open to it we miss balancing ourselves, we miss seeing that there’s beauty all around us. I did have this fleeting thought that we are all moving toward beauty, even if it is a movement, a quest for something, toward making a perfect gadget, for example. We strive to reach our highest potential. That is beauty.”
So what is the role of artist for her? A means of expressing this beauty?
“I don’t know that I’m trying to communicate anything other than I love to draw and paint, and I think it’s because it gives a language to something that doesn’t have words,” she says. “That’s my experience of whatever it is that I’m painting. Kids act out their feelings. They don’t say ‘I’m angry,’ they act out their feelings. They giggle when they see something they like. It’s experiential, not yet put into words. It’s an expression of someone’s felt sense.”
Kappy points out that Eugene Gendlin is the origin of this concept of “felt sense,” which says that our mind and body experiences the awareness of progress or a next step based on a feel that is beyond the five senses. Perhaps this is the land where true beauty resides–a land that encompasses the entire universe, if we are willing to focus on it.
I, the writer of this post, am another of the trio featured in the show “Along the Hudson River: Three New York Artists.” In my paintings I try to suggest the way a scene feels to me, a way that sometimes demands exaggeration.
Sometimes a scene seems to call for a representational reading, and in those cases, I paint more tightly. But over the last year, I’ve often found myself breaking down scenes into triangles. Working on location, I try to accurately capture the colors of the landscape in front of me. The basic shapes are blocked in, but within them, I find the sub-shapes breaking down further into triangles. It is an exploration of how light (and thus color) is fractured, refracted, reflected, and suggestive of movement. Triangles signify many things for me, including directional arrows. Triangles have served as symbols for humans for millennia. I leave that additional research to anyone who wants to explore it, as I did when this natural urge to paint triangles took over a painting back in March 2017… and I wanted to figure out why.
I want my paintings to communicate the harmony and beauty of nature—and also to explore the intersection of human-made elements and natural forms, the place of humans in nature, and conversely the role of nature in the human world. Where I live, at the confluence of the Harlem River and the Hudson River in Inwood, Manhattan, nature and monumental structures (bridges, buildings, shipping channels) live in peace. I hope my paintings suggest the energy, movement, light, and peacefulness that pervades a nature-kissed Manhattan.
Tony Winters is the connector of this trio. In demand internationally as an architect, Winters has a keen interest in the Hudson River School of painting. His dedication to painting has taken him through the acclaimed Grand Central Academy, and he was the recipient of a Hudson River Fellowship. (His friend Kappy lives in Chelsea, in view of the wide Hudson; Winters lives south of her in the West Village. Winters and I are painting companions.)
Whereas Kappy is intent on presenting the beauty in both people and places, and thus is represented by many of her portraits in this show, Winters selected landscapes for “Along the Hudson River: Three New York Artists.” He, too, is concerned with the beautiful, and from another direction, making this show three views of beauty.
“I am trying to convey a feeling–a feeling that elevates the spirit,” says Winters. “Nature teaches us we’re part of a much bigger world, way beyond human culture, and that is inspiring. The world of rivers, mountains and trees has a magic I’ve loved since childhood. Part of that magic comes in the form of beauty: You notice nature never makes an aesthetic mistake, whether in the shape of mountains or clouds, ripples on water, color combinations on a beach – it’s always harmonious. To convey that feeling of connection and harmony is the height of artistic achievement in my opinion.
“Where does the experience of beauty come from?” Winters asks. “Our brains and our minds have evolved, so a lot of it goes back to instinctive survival mechanisms—the search for food, reproduction. But we also have an aesthetic response to something a tree or flower is doing. Why would that be? Why do we respond aesthetically to signals from plants? It seems that nature, having endowed us all with free will, uses emotions to guide our actions through persuasion. We’re not just stimulus-response robots, nor are other living things. If we were, we’d all live just by reflexes, we wouldn’t need strong emotion. But we do, and plants and animals provoke it–nature decided to give us a kick in the pants. Fear, obviously, has a survival value for our bodies, but what about beauty? I believe we are more than our bodies, we have an inborn need to feel wonder and awe, and beauty is our gateway to that experience.”
For Winters, making art is an antidote for the stress (and illusions) of daily life, but once he’s there–making art from life, from nature–art becomes something more than a mere antidote.
“Human society is so charged with primate responses like aggression, territoriality, sex and pecking orders we easily get overwhelmed and pulled into that familiar state of mind, rooted in survival instincts, basically. Nature, like meditation, gives us a chance to disconnect from that mindset for a while. And when we do, suddenly the world seems much bigger, and we see our place in it from a different perspective. So art is not just an antidote—it’s an active way of connecting with dimensions of life we may fail to notice, day to day. We are part of nature. We constantly forget that because we make our living as a species by controlling nature. But nature is our ancestral home, and when we connect, it’s like discovering long lost relatives. Practically speaking, painting is a great way to connect–we like to be out in nature, but we also like to be doing things. Painting, fishing, hunting–in all these situations, we have to adapt to the pace of nature as opposed to the pace of human society. Nature is slow and cyclical. It lends itself to meditation and slow contemplation. Painting is well suited to this pace; it matches up well with that. The meditative quality of painting is a chance to really slow down and connect.”
So we are left with a premise that sounds like the start of a joke: An architect, a psychotherapist, and a journalist walk into the world of art…
And each of them discovers that beauty is beyond the literal elements. Each of them does something different with this topic. And each of them brings with them an ongoing, personal encounter of “the rat race,” day jobs that inform them and allow them to explore how humans truly move through the world, a path that encompasses both raw nature and human constructs and hierarchies.
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TNC Gallery is located in the Theater of the New City, at 155 First Avenue between 10th and 11th streets, in New York City. There will be an artists’ reception for “Along the Hudson River: Three New York Artists” at TNC on Tuesday, March 20 from 5:30-7:30 p.m. For more information, go to theaterforthenewcity.net.