for me...one of the great purposes of art is to preserve and capturing memories... as well as express our own very special and personal feelings toward our subjects. i have done paintings and drawing of my pets in their older years and, in those times especially, it really brings emotions to the surface. the same can be said for photography, but in drawing and painting, the moment of creation lingers and touches us even more.

as a third generation floridian, i am also moved by paintings of people like martin johnson heade who preserved and captured moments in florida history, and landscapes long since passed.

my own work often focuses on still-life of objects that i see every day, but even those document moments in time and nature.

i suppose any subject that holds special meaning is worth preserving in art.

My major art interest lately has been travel sketching, which also helps preserve memories. It also enhances the quality of experience itself. Slows down time and increases focus.

Some people who bought my (landscape & floral) paintings in years past said they wished to have them in memory of someone who had died. Something that they would see every day, and be reminded.

Thank you for your post. It cuts through some of the artificial  and commercial concerns that can be toxic to creativity.

Steve,  This story helped me realize and verbalize why I draw.  I sketch things that touch my life.  My journal often has unrelated  sketches of things that catch my eye…such as the shadows of a flower arrangement that cast multiple shapes from the circle of lights overhead.  Our cockatoo Simon often appears on journal pages.  Such a drawing might be just a tiny detail. At first I scolded myself for getting so distracted  from my writing but finally surrendered to be free and do what an artist does.

Sketching with a model records how willing we allow ourselves to see what is there.  The more we do it the closer we come to its reality.  Of course my reality might be quite different then yours.  A circle of artists with the same model best illustrates this.

This story about Don Bachardy has made me realize how wonderful this artist tool can be in just living and knowing life to the fullest. I haven’t drawn my husband David for several years.  You have inspired me to dig out that sketchbook and bring it up to date.  

Thank you for this thoughtful article. Julia

Steve, I just ordered "Chris & Don: A Love Story" from Netflix.  Maybe by next week I'll want to add more comment.  Julia

Steve,

What a timely post. A friend of mine was killed in Afghanistan late last month. She was my age, we lived in the same neighborhood when we were in Japan, and our daughters--now only 3 three years old--were born in the same hospital four hours apart from each other. I wasn't able to attend her funeral, and I've felt quite disconnected from her and her family, in spite of all our technological connectivity. For the past few weeks, I've felt a need to draw or paint a portrait of my friend, but I've been hesitant, for reasons I haven't yet been able to identify. I had never thought of creating a portrait of her before. So again, your post was quite timely. I do think that drawing and painting are valid and effective means of locking in memories... and I think they are also probably very therapeutic for the grieving artist. At least, I hope so.

- Jen

Kaneohe, Hawaii

I just received this email today. Last week my mother passed away after 97 years of a well lived life. However, in her last hours I felt helpless and started drawing her over and over. I found this to be a way to be close to her and to ease the pain I was feeling. Just yesterday I told a friend about this thinking she would think I was crazy. However, her response to me was " That's what an artist does" . I have been referring to these drawings these last few days and find it a comfort. Thank you for writing this blog. Your timing is perfect.

After my wife died I painted 3 portraits of her from some of my favorite photos. I have also painted pictures of some of the places we visited on our many trips. I have the portraits hanging in my bedroom. We had a great life together and I will never forget.

I never really thought about art preserving my memories...then I looked around my house. There's that drawing of me and a friend eating lunch at Cafe Blasé in Provincetown, photo courtesy of the waiter, about 20 years ago. And the painting of Bob in our rented villa kitchen in Lucca, Italy...a trip with a few friends that unfortunately got marred by 9/11. There's that Italian bread and cheese on the table, that funky toaster, and the can of Pringle potato chips that one of our friends was addicted to. We just got back from a grocery shopping trip. And that painting of Michael, devouring a sandwich in an out of the way gourmet deli that we discovered in Mabbettsville, NY about six years ago during a driving trip to the Culinary Institute of America. None of these works were intentionally done to preserve memories...but they sure did! And in that drawing from art school days–can it be 40 years ago–I have know idea who the model was, but I do remember that we were listening to "Silver Apples of the Moon" at the time, while slides were being flashed on the model's body...it was the days of Marshall McLuhan.

Coincidentally, I just watched Chris and Don two weeks ago. Very moving and enjoyable. Isherwood is a favorite author of mine and Bachardy a favorite artist! I also just bought Bachardy's book, "Stars in My Eyes" used, from Amazon, and to my surprise, got an autographed copy. I wonder who the named dedicatee is and why he surrendered this book.

Dear Steve,

Thank you for posting this question.  I’d like to share this with you and I take comfort in the stories of others replying to you on this topic. Great  "what an artist does" affirming topic.  There is a place for securing and locking memory in drawing.

I created a drawing  in memory of my father who passed away at age 69 on May 5, 2004. I included the American Flag to represent his patriotic service to our country for twenty six years in the United States Foreign Service. He served with traditional American resolution, personal sacrifice,and dedication to the best standards of our nation.

Since I am a landscape artist and not at all able to create a decent portrait,  I  felt it best to memorialize my father with an image depicting his final journey to God in a semi abstracted manner. Abstract seemed appropriate to me to depict a soul which is invisible. The drawing is highly unusual for me as I normally create images without human imagery, only evidence of their markings on the landscape.   Enormous swirls and clouds of dust  carry the outline of a human spirit which rises and fades into smaller images until it disappears off the paper into another dimension. As he wished, we let my father’s ashes out of a plane  which is not drawn in the image but  implied part of the aerial view.  I knew without doubt that however this image would appear, that I must draw it to preserve a  memory.

I lost my  Dad tragically to a five year battle with a rare incurable disease known as Pulmonary Fibrosis. He demonstrated valor in his fight for life with experimental medications which my mother administered several times a week with injections. We witnessed a healthy man become frail and skeletal over those hard years.

Nine months overlapping  that  time period, in the last year of his life, I learned I was  pregnant with triplets.   Two of my triplets did not survive the first trimester and I  gave birth to one healthy boy. My father met his grandson a week before he passed away. There will always be an invisible line drawn between their souls and my clear memory of their meeting.

In the five years that have passed since my father died and my son has turned five, I have created many drawings with three trees in a circle.  They are a memory depiction of an existing landscape in my surroundings as well as a memory of my triplets. I have never been more pulled by the force of conscience to draw images on any other topic as much these drawings.   The three in one circle also represents the Trinity and a  reflection of my faith in the best and the worst of  times. Those drawings are about deep profound memory and illuminate ultimately a growth of a deeper faith.

My way to work through the agony of it all was at my easel. I prayed for positive drawings that simultaneously reflected  my knowing there is vast abundance in my life even in the event of tragic loss. In drawing through the experience I built a deeper connection to the source of all creative endeavor. Drawings are a visual conversation with my past, my present, my future.

The beauty of drawing is that it is a memory, a journey, a life’s perception, a reflection on faith.  

Kathy

Brussel, Belgium

I agree with all that was written in this blog.  The only thought that I can add is that the emotional attachment must be the reason why I absolutely refuse to 'get rid' of my work.  My daughter will end up with an attic full of my stuff if I don't learn how to separate myself from some of these pieces.  Plus, I'm running out of walls.

It is the same with painting, drawing or photographs (not digital, which automatically means manipulation).

Here below is what I put down about my photographs, for I am and painter and photographer:

A photograph is an extension of my memory on selected past moments

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Even and 10000 years is just a wink of eye, 2000 years even shorter. Both of these means nothing to me. I cannot distinguish any difference between them with years or hours. 2000 years that are coming I can measure with years and I can say it is not just a wink of eye but a long time ahead. Even one day ahead is longer than 2000 years behind. So how I can measure time that is over? for sure not with the same units as the time that is coming.

If I cannot remember it is a long time ago. If I can remember but need time it is some distance behind. If can remember quickly it is just a years ago, or a days.

So for me, time that is over can be measured only by degree of the memory. My best memories on far past are photographs. They make me to remember and to enjoy, to say what I did in past, to see the way of my thinking, and to make my days not to be a wink of eye.

Taking photographs engrave things in my head for life, things even not visible on the photograph, things like where and when the photograph is taken, what weather was, my mud, how it all looks outside the photograph frame, I was alone or not, how long I been at the spot, how I arrived there, where I went after the shot, … When later on, say 20 years after, I look at some photograph it trigger automatic reading from that engraving. I remember just so many nice moments from that day. If I did not take that photograph, that day and moments from my life are just lost forever.

Hope you had a nice moment.

DanielOB

I did watch “Chris and Don, A Love Story” this weekend.  I am reeling with new thoughts about being an artist and about life itself. Christopher Isherwood was born a few months before my dad. Don was born a few years after me. So I can somewhat relate to the times of their early lives even though my schooling was in Boston and Don’s was on the West Coast.

I was impressed that Don held on to his desire to paint portraits even though it wasn’t the accepted trend in school.  I am sure he was also told it wouldn’t be commercially wise either.

I loved that his sketches were on full sheets of paper, not in 9 x 12 sketch books like most of mine. This larger space to be more expressive certainly is much more meaningful.  I could see this plainly in the film.

Don said he did better work after working a number of hours with a model.  He was talking of working 6 to 9 hours at a sitting.   My last figure drawings of the day are always better than the first. Most times I have probably quit before this break through.  

Friday I  sketched Dave asleep.  His mouth was open, a large dark hole with a few teeth left at the edges. At first I felt I was betraying him by putting this on paper.  As I drew I noticed how other things had changed since the last time I had drawn his head.  He has lost so much weight. We are in the seventh week where I have been a full time care taker. I felt love and protection as I recorded these things just for me to keep.

Thank you all for responding with your own touching stories.  I was quite moved by the connections between your drawings and the people you love.