Emmanuel Aronie
Hi Paul,
Mr. Levitan, Isaac. I stopped in front of your portrait in the Tretyakovskaya Gallery in Moscow, or should I say ‘our portrait’, because I am not even sure we’re not the same person, you know, past lives and all that stuff. Plus, we have a lot in common. We’re both of Jewish heritage. We’re both serious men and, I have a little story to tell that might even show that I too have some artistic talent, like you, though of course, your Russian landscapes are masterpieces far beyond my meager talents.
I look at our picture together and I think, ‘Well Isaac, when you’re as old as I am, you will likely lose all that dark bushy hair, which actually hides your mouth. And, why would a woman kiss that mouth? It would be like kissing a musk-ox.’ Ah, I apologize. I suppose I am jealous of your skills and fame.
But, I digress. Isaac Ilyich Levitan, you were born in 1860 in Augustow, Poland. Well, all four of my grandparents were born around the same time and within 100 kilometers of your birthplace!! This is true. Another certainty is that my relatives probably knew your relatives. Chances are very good that they knew someone who knew someone who actually knew you. Think of that !!
So, we’re neighbors, kinfolk, brothers, or at least, cousins. So, let me tell you a little story, a true story, a story of art, which I know you love with a passion.
Long ago, in the 1980’s, I lived in Austin, Texas, a music town, a cultural town, capital of Texas. One afternoon, in my little house on San Gabriel St., I began to paint a watercolor, a copy of a famous Van Gogh painting, ‘The Church at Auvers ‘. It was and is one of my favorites, with a church in the center of the picture, a cobalt blue sky, a path in the foreground, that forks, with a woman in a bonnet going to the left and a rectory on the right, a beautiful painting.
I began dabbing paint on the canvas.
Suddenly, I noticed a very fine current running through my arm to my hand and to the fingers, which held the brush. It was almost electric. I began to really enjoy each brushstroke, each change of color, each movement. I became totally focused, and continued this way for several hours, until the painting was finished. I found myself bathed in sweat and in a kind of sweet delirium, a kind of existential happiness.
The next morning, I went down the street to the local coffee shop and met Louis, a friend, who was also there to drink some coffee. We chatted. He told me he was depressed, whereupon, suddenly I said, “Well, Louis, I have just finished an unusual painting, a copy of a Van Gogh. I think you should have it. It will help your depression.” I don’t know why I said this, but he agreed to take the painting. I trotted down the street and returned with the painting and gave it to Louis. Then, I forgot all about it.
Several years later, I was driving into Austin from Dallas, on I-35, the main highway connecting the two cities, and strangely, I missed my exit, my turn. Then, I missed the next exit as well and suddenly, without wanting to, I was on the bridge, crossing the river that runs through the center of the city. I was a bit irritated with myself and got off at the first available exit and turned to go back, when I noticed my gas was low…’hmm,’ I thought, I should get some gas’ and I pulled into the first gas station and up to the pump to gas up. That’s when I looked up – – and… there’s Louis!! I say….”Hey, Louis, how are you? I haven’t seen you in a long time.” He says, “Hey man, how are you!!?” And then he said, “By the way, you know that painting you gave me…I am done with it. I am fine now.”
“Great, ” I said, ” I’ll be glad to get it back.” And, he returned the painting that afternoon.
Oddly enough, the next day, Harlan, another friend of mine, asked me. “Say, do you have any paintings I can look at?” It was strange because I don’t paint very much and I rarely talk about it. But, I said, “Yeah, I have one, a nice one, a copy of a Van Gogh.”
“Can I see it ? “he asked. “Sure, ” I replied and showed him the painting. “How much do you want for it ?” “Hmmm…$ 75 ?” Sold. Shortly after that, Harlan moved to Los Angeles and took the painting with him.
So, Mr. Levitan, cousin, brother, did you like my story of art?
Love the story, EMMANUEL..
It makes me feel better..
Aminah
Yes, I,too, loved the story. Susannah
What a great story! Thank you for sharing.
Before mobile phones were in use, I was travelling to a meeting by car.
I was lost. And so close to where I needed to be. I got out of my car and
dashed to a telephone box to ring up saying I would be late. The telephone box usually contained the name of the area.
Upon opening the door to enter a voice, that was loud and seemed to come out of the sky above shouted:
You are exactly where you should be in the Universe.
Somewhat bewildered, I shouted back:
But I don’t know where the heck I am!
From that day to this, I feel I am exactly where I should be, even if I get utterly lost.
What a great story! It’s good to feel we are where we should be. Thank you, brother.
Well, I for one loved it! It would be nice if we could see one of these paintings.
Thanks so much for sharing.
Love,
Halimah Polk
Well, I for one loved it. So fun. Do you have any other paintings to show us.
Thanks so much for sharing.
Another painting fool,
Halimah
How do these things work ? Is art the current or is the current the art or life itself ? Is the current always there and we just forget to put the plug in ? Or are we always plugged in and the breaker is just off for a few minutes, hours, years, lifetimes ? Once upon a time in San Francisco looking for Bapaks congress with the wife and kids, lost as hell and going crazy with “that way”, “no this way”, “over there”, “turn around” and the hour getting past late. Our 3 year old, Matthew, who had been sitting quiet in the back seat pops up and says “stop! Turn there”. I did and a few minutes later we arrived.
Glad your current was flowing and could be put to good use. We might say the same about Mr. Levitan as well.
hi Emmanuel,
What an inspiring fabulous story and very well written. It took me right to Austin. (and to Poland)
I wish I could claim that vibration feeling in my hands when I paint, only the focus, enjoyment and sweet delirium. I think I will pay more attention to the subtle nuances.
How are you doing these days?
much love, Camille
No doubt Levitan enjoys your story as we all do. I remember your visit to Denver sometime in the early ’80s before our family moved to Canada, It may have been when I had Sinar Graphics, I’m not sure. You gave me copies of a children’s story you wrote and illustrated, “The Blue Bonnet” . You were looking into finding a publisher and were excited about using your art talent to make a living and maybe a name. It just occurred to me that blue bonnets are the state flower of Texas where you lived at the time. You must have told me that then and I had forgotten. And, oddly that work is what I remember about your visual art. I’ve had similar experiences with my work and appreciate your telling of yours. LP
Hi Emmanuel,
Your story really resonated with me because you named two of my favorite painters. I love Van Gogh above all others, have a wonderful large print of the cafe in Arles where he used to hang out, at night, with the left side yellow from the cafe lights shining on the outdoor tables, and a night sky above like that in Starry Night. And I have a 2-volume set of all his art (gift from my sister-in-law, a painter). I recall back in the early ’90s visiting an exhibit of impressionist paintings, which I love, in the Getty Museum I think. But among all those wonderful paintings was one small one by Van Gogh, of a flowering plum tree or such (white blossoms). When I spied it, it seemed to leap off the wall and come alive, far more than any other painting there. As for Levitan, I’ve wanted to become acquainted with his art ever since, decades ago, I checked out a music LP whose cover was a painting of his titled “Eternal Peace.” I fell in love with it at once. Finally, a couple of years I ago, I looked at books of his paintings on Amazon and after careful consideration chose one to buy. I have not been disappointed. In his short life he painted some of the most beautiful landscapes I’ve ever seen. I wish I could visit Russia (not in winter though), but I’m not sure I could see and capture in my own eye and mind all the beauty that he saw and captured. (I am more a musical aesthete than a visual one.)
Your bro’, Theo