connecting*the*dots

My father sent me an email the other day, encouraging my brother and I to go see Children of Men. Apparently, both the premise and the art direction of the film — shot in twisted, bleak, monochromatic settings — reminded my dad of Picasso’s Guernica.

When he mentioned the reference, he did so in a way as if I had no understanding of its impact as a piece of art. I responded that I’ve always admired the painting as extremely powerful. This was his response in turn:

A Note About GUERNICA:

As you must know, when Picasso finished this painting he gave it to the Modern in NYC with the understanding that it would be returned to Spain after Franco was no longer in power. When I came to New York in the late 50’s, I rediscovered this painting for I only had seen slides of it in art history when I was in college. The painting had its own room on the first floor… with many sketches on the other walls. I fell in love with the power of that painting. I studied its structure in-depth and I spent hours just sitting in that room, looking at every detail of the work.

In the 60’s when in the city on gallery visits I would go to the Modern JUST to visit with GUERNICA. I can’t imagine how many times I paid the entrance fee to the museum for that reason alone. I knew the painting so well that I could close my eyes and see certain brush strokes… it was like my GOOD friend. And, you know what happened… Franco was gone and the Modern living up to its promise shipped the work to Spain. Certainly, I missed the painting on my further visits to MOMA.

Eventually, we visited Spain… and Madrid… and the Prado. GUERNICA had its own room there with very special installation… it seemed to float in that space. When I entered that room, I was absolutely overwhelmed by the sight of the painting… I think I stopped breathing… I had to use all my skills NOT to weep for I was at that point. It was a powerful emotional experience for me. WOW, and after leaving the Prado, it took quite a while before I was really part of my surroundings.

I’ve looked back at that experience over time and I know that it wasn’t GUERNICA per se… it was the culmination of all my other visits and my study of the work… and the anticipation… as well as the painting itself… and it just all came together for me at that moment in the Prado. And that’s my note about GUERNICA.

-DAD

As always, thanks, Dad.

Dig the orange TV in the background.

Angela’s mother married her beau this past Saturday in a beautiful ceremony held in their backyard. Pictures of the day have been uploaded to flickr.

FAMILY & FRIENDS: If you’d like to order prints of specific pictures (either having them sent to you or picking them up at a local Target) simply click on the “Order Prints” link found above the picture you want and follow the directions. Voila!

Andy just returned from a trip out west and a visit with G’ma.

There’s more hilarity where that came from.

(via cb)

Happy three-years to Andy and Angela (I can’t believe it’s been that long!) and a very special happy birthday to G’ma Coon who is 102 years-young today! I love you all.

Bonus picture of the happy couple.

As only my father could express.

In 1997, at the age of 93, my grandmother — Reva Patrick Coon — asked me to design the cover for her first book.

Ties & Tales is her personal story of Dunsmuir, California — the place she’s called home since the early 1920’s. While much of the content focuses on our family, the book also provides interesting context to mainstream American history.

Three years in the making, G’ma’s memoirs are finally ready for the printer. And after a few attempts, I finally finished the book jacket this past weekend.

Now I’ve got to give her a call and ask permission to release the book as a blog…

UPDATE: I received the sweetest voice-mail message from G’ma today. I think she likes the book cover. ;-)

UPDATE II: G’ma gave me her blessings to publish her memoirs as a blog. The book is over 200 pages long, so I’ll probably convert each of her chapters into separate posts. Here’s a sample from chapter 1:

1 .. IN THE GARDEN

In 1732, the first of the Patrick’s left North Antrim, Ireland, and sailed to the United States where they settled in Kentucky, later moving to Indiana where they became grain farmers.

The McKinney’s, Irish with just a wee bit of Scotch (for flavouring, no doubt) emigrated to Minnesota and later Wisconsin.

My father, Thomas McVey Patrick, curly brown hair and snappy blue eyes, was an adventurer. He forsook the security of the rich farm life in Indiana at age twenty. Mounting his horse and taking only his knapsack, revolver and a very few good supplies, he waved farewell to his family and rode off. After six or seven months he arrived in Seattle, Washington.

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