Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Oil on Canvas: Masters of the Bix Arts School

The first priority today was to fix two (actually three) windows in the 308 where the screws were pulling loose from the latches. This involves removing the windows, drilling out the holes, gluing in hardwood dowels, redrilling, etc. All pretty routine, but it takes time. The car is now ready for revenue service again.

I then started on the interior of the 277. I cut out another plywood panel, painted, and installed it, and installed the next "croquet hoop" and painted it, as seen here. This also entailed installing one window shade box, removing another, and installing/removing various window shade tracks for the various parts. I'd say real progress is being made.





Next, up to the roof. I started a final stretch of the canvas, and did somewhat over half of it, as seen here. This is harder than it looks, because I'm kneeling on the canvas as I stretch it, and then have to tack it down while holding it. After a while, I decided I'd had enough, since I wanted to go on to painting. And it was, of course, hot up there. In any case, I think the current method for stretching seems to be sufficient.




As we leave the French Depressionist wing of the Museum, we may make our way to the next gallery, where masters of the American minimalist movement of the early Twentieth Century known as the Bix Arts School may be viewed. (Note on French pronunciation: since Beaux Arts is pronounced "boh zahr," Bix Arts is obviously "bih zahr.") Here we climb a ladder of minimally functional black grab irons, where we see an untitled oil on canvas masterpiece by an unknown artist of the St. Louis School. Part of it is being restored by one of the Museum's many highly-paid professional art conservators. Here we may admire the artist's dramatic use of a single color for the huge expanse of canvas, the exquisite choice of Tile Red to represent the agrarian roots of the class struggle, and the uncompromising refusal to include any superfluous patterns or bourgeois ornamentation.

Remember that the display and restoration of these artifacts at our Museum is made possible by all you hoity-toity millionaire patrons of fine art, so thanks to all of you!

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I'm wondering if you didn't get too close to the turpentine today?

Keep 'em coming. We love it!

David Wilkins said...

The scary part is that Randy drove home in this condition. He tells me that the can of turpentine started "speaking" to him on the way home, as it sat in the passenger side floorboard. Its words? "Wanna get high?"