Dirt in your hand and a piece of paper is all you need to create something and to express yourself.
I remember a foreboding seemed to reach into my senses and settle there between the bits of pigment and medium. I don't remember if there were figures on it or if it was an abstract piece. It was the utilitarian use of what looked like some left over house paint and color that struck me so. More detail than that has been lost in the mist and fog of my memory. But I will find a picture of it. I'll know it when I see it again. With help from the Art Institute I was able to figure out that I saw the painting at the Degenerate Art - Fate of the Avante Garde in Nazi Germany Exhibition a couple of decades ago. And that there was also a book that catalogs the art work that was included.
What I do remember is the silence and the way everyone moved slowly through the gallery. Each person taking their time and not only looking at the art work but reading each of the descriptions and then standing there and absorbing the essence it was communicating.
I remember when I saw this piece, tears rolled involuntarily down my cheeks and I couldn't move. I was numb.
I don't remember if the name of the artist was even on the painting. Maybe there wasn't a name on it at all. The power of the image and the truth in it that couldn't be expressed any other way was what has stayed with me all of these years.
Was this artist hiding?
I am doing some research to find out more about this painting. So far, I've found out it was in the Degenerate Art - Fate of the Avante Garde in Nazi Germany Exhibition at the Art Institute in Chicago in 1991 from June - September. I am excited to finally see it again this week when the catalog of this exhibit arrives at my library. I'm determined to find this image and share it, along with the name of the artist.