Notes on Blues

The blue sky in the morning, dappled with clouds that are also blue.

Skyproject#2, Day 252. 8:27 am.

Today I saw Picasso: Painting the Blue Period, at the Art Gallery of Ontario. The show included some beautiful paintings from the “Rose Period,” which follows immediately after the Blue. Both periods span a relatively short time — 1901-1906 (which is also a key time period in the book I am working on). When I was much younger, about the same age as Picasso when he made these works, this part of his oeuvre was my favourite. I was not alone — while Picasso could not sell them when they were new, they eventually became hugely popular. They are easily legible, not yet radically abstracting, and their subject matter and mood is intensely recognizable pathos and melancholy. This was a time of terrible urban poverty in Paris and Barcelona, and Picasso chose the suffering around him as his subject matter. It is clear that he too was struggling in this time, in the darkest blues of his Blue Period. He had a particular interest in the harsh struggles of poor women, mothers with young children. The curators of this show see this interest and his renderings as compassionate, and I think that is part of what appealed to me when I was young. I was also drawn to melancholy, I think, as if it was more real than lighter feeling. Is this a hazard of poetic youth?

There is much to appreciate in the exhibit, yet as I view the work now, I do not love it as I once did. The subjects, the people, in many of these paintings feel not quite seen — rather, they are heavy archetypes of suffering, or projections of the artist’s mental state. When the colour shifts to rose, Picasso has moved out of the city, his subjects turn to gaze directly at him, and there is life in them. The harsh, lived realities of the people Picasso painted in the Blue Period are not in dispute. Yet a monochromatic depiction of the harshest struggles does not convey a whole picture.

Even the sky, essential blue, is complex and multi-hued.

A short documentary video at the New York Times caught my eye, in a resilient moment this week. It is a tenderly done, short video, about archaeologists who are looking for unmarked graves at residential schools in Canada. I was impressed by several things, particularly the centered voices of survivors, and the indigenous women archaeologists. It is a frank and open-hearted work, in my observation. It does not shy away from the tragic nature of that legacy, and the long-standing betrayal of not listening, the pain of not being heard. Over and again there is a call to really listen, to acknowledge the harshness of what happened, to move toward healing. It requires a certain steadiness to really listen. Two elders in this video beautifully model that honest steadiness, speaking and listening to each other, so we, the listeners, can hear. I encourage you to watch. There is no new news here, but something to witness, to be with, in all its humanity.


Tuesdays: Autumn Sangha

Join us for meditation on Tuesday evenings.
All are welcome!

This week, I will teach an extra yoga class through Breathe Yoga Studio online:
Wednesday October 27, Stretch & Renew (45 min).

The usual Saturday class runs on October 30, Unwind & Restore (75 min).
Please note, I will be not be teaching this class on November 6. There will be a skillful substitute teacher.

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Familiar Ground

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Giving the Monkey a Job