Liminal State Panels

THE LIMINAL STATE PANELS - an egg tempera chapel - 62 panels on display at the Haywood Street Congregation Church , Asheville, NC

                                      Liberation- 8' x 5'                                                                                         Old Age, Sickness and Death   8' x 4.5'

                         The Path to Liberation - 8' x 24'

Self- Imprisonment   8' x 24'

THE LIMINAL STATE PANELS

The Images

The four walls of the Chapel are meant to be seen as one complete work.  Each wall has its own meaning but the full impact is felt by contrasting each panel to the one hanging opposite. The juxtaposition of opposing themes is first experienced as a draw to the large wall of energetic beings, who are bathed in soft light and playing in water. Turning around, we find ourselves uncomfortably disturbed by the oversized figures who gaze out from behind prison bars.  The androgynous single figure appears ecstatic to some viewers while others see pain. There is no doubt that being released means leaving everything behind. If we believe that we are defined solely by our physical body, then the three figures depicting old age, sickness and death can be felt as morose.

The panels are not meant to picture one point in time or space but rather point to the process of maturation thru which our individual and collective selves journey.  That is the meaning of “liminal state”.  We know our present experience and personal interpretation of life is not complete or final.   The Chapel reminds us that much remains to be discovered and that our suffering and liberation are two sides of the same coin.  The two “dark” walls show our frailty and how we seem trapped in unhappiness created by our bodies and minds.  The peace and happiness of the lighter walls shows our release from these conditions and the artist wants the viewer to feel the camaraderie which naturally arises from knowing that every human being, at one time or another, inhabits each of the four walls.

Looking at all four images simultaneously is physically impossible but not if the viewer uses their inner eye. The chapel series asks you to hold the image of one wall in your mind while you move on physically to the next. If you stand quietly in the center of the space created by the paintings and turn slowly, different parts of yourself will come calling.  View them up close to experience the subtle power of individual brush strokes.  Only after a while will the totality of the images sink in.  When the viewer’s next life challenge arises, be it uplifting or upsetting, the panels’ images can arise to remind the viewer how we are capable of using our bodies and minds for transformation through the Liminal State.

The landscapes in which the figures reside offer another avenue for the viewer to see four aspects of human experience that are the subjects of the chapel: spiritual freedom, physical bondage, mental suffering, and a life of freedom.  

One of the two larger walls has a grid of "prison like bars”, behind which our small selves, embodied by isolated individuals crowded in a common cave, are engaged in a life of futile searching.  We all suffer from the habit of looking outside ourselves for answers to our search for life’s meaning, with generally less than satisfying results.  Sometimes human lives end with regrets, represented here by the smoldering wisps of dark emissions floating through the dark atmosphere above our heads. 

This contrasts with the soft angelic and light- filled panels where tender energy is diffused via concha like waves in nurturing water. Touching evokes connection and caring for other species -thus allowing one to receive what one gives.  These figures are not bound by earthly gravity. We get to play or repose by being completely at ease with ourselves and others.  There is no aversion or fear between species because not one being is troubled by doubt or self-criticism.   All creatures are gracefully dancing in joy, riding waves of light, resting peacefully.  There is an absence of conflict… how delightful!

The single liberated figure has unspeakable energy.  S/he is connected to a web of spacious sky and fertile ground that is the matrix of our unfathomable existence.  Everyone wants to be free, unbound, released from suffering. We are uncomfortable in our bodies when attention is fixated on its fate. Our opportunity for happiness is great when we forget about ourselves, when we merge into the energy surrounding us. There is a solitary being in each one of us who encompasses s all that there is.   Interchangeable, inside and out, we are constantly transitioning through Liminal States.  Neither old nor young, male or female, beautiful or ugly, just here, there, everywhere at once.

The three somber figures tower over an inhospitable landscape.  The wasteland is the inevitable and tragic result of man's urge to conquer.  It is a sad scene but starkly beautiful scene of spent efforts, endlessly futile attempts to insure physical immortality. The poignancy of the desert and the lack of rain in the ponderous clouds portend no relief. This wall poses the question we ask ourselves when in a vulnerable mood- “How can we avoid suffering?” We cannot pretend that we will not grow old, get sick and die.  Is this all that we are?

Frequently Asked Question

“When, where and how were these paintings done?”

The Liminal State panels were begun in Santa Fe, New Mexico in 1997.  After two years of drawing studies from live models, the artist ordered 67 handmade gesso panels and the painting of the single figure image titled "liberation" commenced. The large aquatic image, "The Path to Freedom" was begun in 2001.  Moving part time to Asheville, North Carolina between 2003 and 2008, the panel of three figures called “Old Age, Sickness, and Death" was started.  Returning full time to New Mexico in 2008, the artist planned the final wall of imprisoned humanity but it required a special studio to be built.  While all four panels’ basic compositions was contemplated early on, none of the color schemes were finished until the final stage (2010-2012) when the entire Chapel was assembled together in one space for the first time.

 “Why is it so large?” 

The scale of the four walls is meant to envelop the viewer so that anyone who comes into its physical presence stops in their tracks.   The larger than life size people behind bars, prisoners of their own devise, tower slightly above the normal level of our searching eyes.  It is not possible to garner exactly who they are, what moods they project, at least not all at once.  It is too much to contend with, in a similar way as are our own conflicting emotional states.  The weight of the prisoner’s gazes, some not even using their eyes, effectively challenges the viewer to look within.  The smaller than life scale of the beings who are playing in water serves to draw the viewer into a world reminiscent of our ‘best’ dreams.  The eerie yet familiar light reminds us that there are great and mysterious forces that can turn our normal world topsy turvey at any moment, if we are open to it.  Here we have no enemies, only brothers and sisters of all shapes and forms.  We cause no harm to ourselves, others or the great deep green sea.

The difficult sight of decay, deformation and dissection presents a reminder of a physical reality.  The dramatic sweep of the sky with its backstop of dry mountains and barren plains provides no relief.  The old man is tired, the man of color has had a hard life and the beautiful lady, cut down in her prime, shows her innards which are repulsive and fascinating at the same time. They are connected to each other in space and time, yet each one experiences their suffering alone.  Being alone is neither sought after nor avoided by those intent on realizing their true nature.  There is a curious excitement and energy generated by the realization that each of us alone are the entire universe.   The solo figure’s size makes the green earth lose its normal reference points. We are not bound by the concept that human experience is tied to the physical plane of existence.  The liberated individual has moved beyond all dichotomies.

“Why did you use egg tempera?”  

This medium is unsurpassed for translucent color effects.   The visual effect develops slowly because it is the layering of many strokes of complementary colors on top of and next to each other that results in the flat yet rich surface. Applying egg tempera takes skill, like a tuning a violin. It goes on best with expensive sable brushes and dries quickly to the touch. It does not yellow (the egg’s natural color has no effect) and the paint will not crack no matter how many layers are applied. It is subject to being licked by dogs, but if not damaged by water or dented with a blow, it will last for centuries without the colors changing, fading, cracking or decaying in any way.

Properly executed, egg tempera can transmit an artist’s calligraphic uniqueness and its utility lies in the painter’s ability to rapidly put down a succession of many layers. Egg tempera is a slow, meditative process based on color and texture.  

“Why did it take 15 years to complete?”

 Not only is it large, 38 feet long by 8.5 feet high, the brush strokes are also very small. To cover the 323 square feet of panels with approximately 20 layers of paint, using a brushstroke that measures 1/8th of an inch across calculates into roughly 372,000 strokes. Progress on the panels was slowed somewhat by the artist’s desire to be outdoors. Beginning in 1992 he competed in the Mount Taylor winter quadrathalon race (bike, run, cross country ski, and snowshoe), mountain bike races, triathlons, marathons, adventure racing, an iron man event, and then ultra-marathon trail running (30 to 100 miles). The artist also had a day job and family duties but on average, he was able to dedicate 10-15 hours per week on the painting series over the course of one and a half decades.

Artist’s Background

“At the age of 16, I stopped being a competitive athlete to become a competitive artist by quitting the freshman lightweight crew team at Harvard to devote more time to art.  My first teacher at The Carpenter Center for Visual Arts was Robert Newman, whose abstract painterly worlds helped give birth to my budding interest in making the internal visible.  Frustrated by the verbal and intellectual orientation of academia, I went to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts School to audit classes in traditional materials/techniques under John Burns and studied anatomy with Joe Ciapetti.  The Boston Museum allowed me to copy paintings by Poussin, Tintoretto and Breugal, whose large works of figures in landscapes carry through to the Chapel.

At age 19, I relocated to Philadelphia to study at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts. Part time dean and occasional portrait painter Arthur Dacosta became my friend and mentor. His studies of mythic ethereal beings in Italianate landscapes encouraged me to conceive several mural sized compositions. Dacosta recognized in my landscapes, done outdoors in a wide variety of weather conditions, an affinity for painting with pure colors and calligraphic brushstrokes and encouraged me to pursue egg tempera as my medium.

Returning to Boston in 1976 to finish up my undergraduate degree, I convinced Yale to accept me as the first representative from their collegiate rival into that years Norfolk program for artists.  Here I began my first effort to combine landscapes with figures.  An art professor from New York attempted to dissuade me from large compositions because he said it was “meant for another era”.  By 1978, I was living in France and Italy, visiting chapels filled with frescos and altars done in egg tempera. My goal was clear: I would match their accomplishments without a studio of assistants, willing patrons, or commissions.

When I first lived in Philadelphia, a fellow painter and I had taken up Zen Buddhist meditation. We woke up daily before dawn to practice yoga and zazen meditation.  This became a part of my everyday life and remains so to this day.  I did not have a social life, money, or career.  In 1979, I drew up my first set of plans for a series of frescos. These were the basis of my original drawings for the Liminal State panel series. Returning to the US in that same year, I moved to New Mexico, where I knew no one, and immediately began the egg tempera series, “We Trust in the Loyalty of Old Friends” which is now on permanent display in the rotunda of the New Mexico State Capital building. The six (6), six foot high by four foot wide egg tempera panels are a gift to the people of New Mexico for allowing me to be a painter while having a family and an investment counseling business.

Fifteen years passed between my finishing the “We Trust in the Loyalty of Old Friends” series and starting “The Liminal State Panels”. Fifteen more years have been dedicated to the Chapel series that is now ready to be exhibited.  My decisions made as a young painter while subsisting on fellowships and scrambling to make ends meet, convinced me to go my own way. I became my own patron and used my family and friends as models. The powdered pigments that I use to make egg tempera paint today are from the same surplus of supplies that I bought when in art school forty years ago. 

I was born in Queens, New York in 1954, attended elementary school in the Bronx and graduated from New Rochelle High School in 1971. My two grown daughters, Robyn and Hannah, live in Santa Fe as well.