On seeing the piece on Mancini, I thought I would share another exhibition of interest. I am traveling
I Sangkammaren
oil painting
by Anders Zorn
1918 myself from southern Germany, my home, to Luebeck in the north (about an hour from Hamburg) this coming Monday to see the show. Anders Zorn is finally getting attention in Germany. For your information, or to pass on: www.museum-behnhaus-draegerhaus.de Check out the bookshop for catalogs and books.

Unfortunately the site is only in German. If you Google or better yet use www.ecosia.org as a search tool you may find an English site under tourism for the area Luebeck. The show goes until end of April I believe.

I haven't had the opportunity to go to many art museums but when I do, it is a peak experience. When I The Gate
pastel painting stand in front of a great painting, it is as if the painter was speaking to me personally. He or she might be saying 'Look at what I did with that edge there or I wanted to do this but couldn't accomplish it." I feel this amazing connection to the great fraternity of artists who attempted the impossible and succeeded or failed in various degrees. I never feel depressed about my lack of skill in comparison. I'm always inspired by the great skill of artists throughout history.

Art museums make me feel humble – it's a reminder that it's not all about us and our art. It's about Pacific Sunset
acrylic painting
16 x 20 inches doing what we can to create something that adds to the great pool. If our work never makes it in, someone's will. But if we have something that's trying to come out, there is a responsibility to give it our best shot. Visiting a museum always makes me want to go to my studio and work harder with a feeling that we cannot fail, and all who came before can be our teachers if we keep an open mind.

Being Argentinean myself (and a proud Canadian for over 30 years) I can shed some light into a couple
Fuente de las Nereidas
sculpture
by Lola Mora
1903 of the quirks that you mentioned.

1. Sword waving statues of dead generals: Generals had a very high concept of themselves (shared only by other generals), enough to take charge of the government by force in more than one occasion. Having said that, some 19th century ones actually accomplished something, especially during the wars of independence. For a different type of statue, see the Fuente de las Nereidas by Lola Mora, in Buenos Aires – costanera.

2. Charging fees to get into the country: Only what Argentines are charged to get into the foreign country themselves. An Argentinean has to pay $100 to get into the US, and only $75 to get into Canada. The law of reciprocity, they call it.

3. El Museo de Bellas Artes is one of my favourites. I used to go there since I was a little girl. The Teatro Colon is another great venue for music and ballet. Argentines are very proud of their art, and value its contribution to a better life. It is a public right to experience beauty (and play soccer), hence this and other art museums are free. I hope you get to visit San Telmo, in Buenos Aires, for great cityscape painting.

4. I don't know about your comment: Maybe the Argentines have a love affair with death; they seldom remember birthdays, but death-days are big events. School children are encouraged to commit their generals' last words to memory. I disagree.

5. Quinquela Martin is another Argentinean painter that achieved fame, specializing in images of the Puerto and La Boca. I think you are going to enjoy his work.

This past summer, the Nelson Atkins Museum in Kansas City displayed the full triptych of Monet's
Reflections of Clouds on the Water-Lily Pond
oil painting
79 x 502 inches
by Claude Monet
1920 Water Lilies. First time in decades all three panels were shown as a unit. Of course, I had to make the pilgrimage! While others who went with me spent much of the day visiting the museum, I spent the entire time available, sitting in my wheel chair, far enough back from it, to just take in the whole huge panorama. (I brought binoculars, to get into the details.)

For those who have only seen this in books or prints, this work is like three billboards lined up together. It's massive, and overwhelmingly effective. What would be brush strokes in a smaller scale are paint blotches. Seeing this made me intend to someday try my own hand at some expansive pieces. Not yet ready to do that, but I have already begun to collect the large scale, heavy canvas sheets that will someday be used for such a purpose.

One last item, regarding "judged entry" shows: History has shown that those who set themselves up as arbiters of "proper art" are wrong, almost 100% of the time. Consider as the prime example, the Impressionists, who set themselves up because the museums and "art experts" of their day refused their products. Today, it seems, almost everybody wants to pretend to the title "neoimpressionist" or "post impressionist" or "non-impressionist", or whatso-everist. Judged shows usually mean "It all has to look like our stuff." Virtually all of the artists I respect were the renegades of their periods. So, it remains, for my contemporaries. Being told I'm not doing it correctly just makes me smile, and say, "Thank you!"

One of the things I have been working on for almost 30 years is figuring out a way to communicate Go Diva
original painting with others (husband, children, friends, siblings, relatives, fellow artists, and fellow residents on Planet Earth) and to give feedback that does not reveal my own shortcomings (ignorance) or cause harm to others. I am rereading Dag Hammarskold's (with double dots over the o) spiritual classic, Markings . I highly recommend it to anyone who really wants to see the mind and heart of a human being (homo sapien) at work becoming a Master (homo spiritualis). He chose, perhaps wisely, to let a friend decide after his death whether or not to publish his collection of personal musings. Fortunately for our planet, his friend thought it worthwhile to publish this remarkable book.

Surely there are enough reality shows and hostile Web communities where artists can be humiliated by so-called experts and judges and human critters struggling with their own jealousy, envy, and fear. It would be nice to have a few places of sanctuary on the Web where artists can share their art and ideas respectfully. A place where all work is honored (professional, student, and amateur). A place where we can share what we are learning and working on.

At last thought: Letting go of the ideas of fame and fortune can be quite liberating when it comes to allowing ourselves to follow our own paths, and to become the artists we are meant to be.

My husband and I visited the country in 1980 while it was still an oppressive military
Hipolito Bouchard dictatorship, but with a beautiful country and wonderful people. I remember the many generals and the fact that the Club Militar had a gigantic five-story, wrought-iron entrance gate that was the biggest I had ever seen in my life. In particular, I noticed a nineteenth-century gentleman (or perhaps not) that we have encountered here and there in our travels: Hipolito Bouchard. So far as I know, he's not a relative, but he shares our name, and some sources say he was born in Trois-Rivieres (as Hyppolite), just down the river from Montreal. He seems to be a pirate or a naval hero depending on where you are (e.g., he raided both Monterey and Santa Barbara in California). In Argentina, he is the latter and has a large boulevard named after him.

The art museum in Buenos Aires is spectacular even without the current special exhibit. Only problem
La Cabana Steak House, Buenos Aires was its opening time, around noon, so wife and I sat in the park just across from it. Along came another B.A. specialty, two dog walkers bearing about 25 dogs between them. All were released and spent an hour cavorting or just lounging, surrounded by traffic (no fences). When the guys started to pick up the leashes they huddled around them and left... all in good order. Amazing. If you return through this city I recommend the restaurant called La Cabana, which is known for super steaks. While there (two stuffed cows at the entrance) we discovered a sculpture inside that we had once considered buying (by John Mills, English), of a totally dressed short fellow dancing with a rather buxom nude, I think called Manet and Model Dancing. Fun. But not an old general.

We remember our history, like North Americans do. We don't make movies about our history, and
La Reconquista de Buenos Aires
oil painting
by Charles Fouqueray
1909 sales are to all the world, as you do.

We charge a rate for North Americans because we, too, have to pay a lot of money to get the Visa and also prove that we aren't criminal, neither terrorists nor horrible Latinos trying to destroy your country or steal your jobs.

Canadians don't do that.

I understand you have heroes, we only have... "giant sculptures of generals on horseback pointing or waving swords."

After all we live in South America, a third world continent.

No regrets.

Please know that none of my comments below have to do with your painting of Mel. Your portrait was Jewels, a lapdancer
watercolour painting soulful.

Sometimes I believe there must be a protective shield that deludes us, keeping us from looking at our own work objectively. I look back now on some of the work I did when I was just beginning, and I wonder, what kept me going? How well we see our weaknesses in retrospect.

Museums are where we as artists can pay tribute to those who walked before us and to those whose paths we aspire to follow. Rembrandt in America is the largest collection of Rembrandt's work ever to show in America. The exhibition at the North Carolina Museum of Art closes as I write today and heads for Cleveland, and after that, Minneapolis. How fortunate we are that there is still a budget in this economy to bring these masterpieces to us. How awesome a body of work for anyone's eyes, artists and non-artists.

The protective shield that keeps us from viewing our own work objectively can be lifted by seeing the work of masters like Antonio Mancini, Sargent and Rembrandt. Depending where we are in our development, it doesn't take a Rembrandt to know just how far one might go. I look at their work, and I ask, what keeps me going?

Three years ago I was fortunate to attend The Art of the Portrait Conference here in America. My scant portfolio was embarrassing. I found the Portrait Conference to be a true talent reality check. I recommend it to any artist, especially to any artist getting the least bit cocky about his or her own work. I don't delight in being humbled, but inspiration, aspiration and awe are impossible for me to resist.