Cycle of Light
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Cycle of Light - John Robert Smith
Cycle of Light
By John Robert Smith
Copyright © 2017 by John Robert Smith
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.
First Printing: 2017
ISBN 978-0-244-91473-8
Published by JR Smith wwwjohnrobertsmithart.com
Chapter 1
The empty canvases wait. Four of them, each two meters high by four meters wide, the largest he has ever painted. They are ranged to his left, down the long wall of his studio, each on a specially made easel.
He pushes the first canvas to stand a little to the right side of the East facing floor to ceiling window and directly under the large roof light. He experiments with the canvas in slightly different positions until he is satisfied and then puts the brake on the easel wheels. With a piece of chalk he marks on the floor the position of each wheel so that he can locate the other canvases in exactly the same place. He stands back and looks out of the window for several minutes. He is perfectly still, fixed in the cold winter morning light that fills the silent room.
New canvases are to him always seductive. From their emptiness they whisper intimacies about the nature of the first marks he must make and the urgent pleasure that will follow. But he knows also of the aching self doubt that comes next and the doggedness that will be needed to take him to the end. He has often wondered what the experience of painting must be like for artists whose work is always a familiar comfortable path, but will never know. Every time is a tightrope. He looks along the row of easels and now sees only risk. He has always declined to talk about his work in progress, believing surprise to be an important element in his career. This time some people know of his ambition for this work and are waiting, eager to see what emerges from this room, already preparing for its introduction to the world.
An assistant primed the canvases yesterday with very thick, roughly applied gesso to which he added Cadmium Yellow Deep to give him the underneath he needs. He will make some brush strokes not quite join up, or thin the paint, or scrub at it a little to reveal a hint of what the painting is built on. The underneath has always been important to him, even if only he alone sees its presence after he has painted over it.
A small hill, 50 meters away, fills the window and beyond is only sky. On the hill are twenty eight large, strong, tall oak and beech trees. He has watched this hill and these trees for years and allowed the thought to grow that when the time is right they will give him the stage for a monumental work that will pull the viewer into its world.
On each canvas he will paint the same scene. The position of