Image of the Week: Hollyhocks, Bezalel Street

© Durga Yael Bernhard

Many years ago in my twenties, I had a spiritual mentor in her eighties named Winifred. Winifred introduced me to Jungian psychology and dream analysis.  She also had a keen eye for art, and understood painting as my creative path in life.  I was barely on my feet as an artist, and produced bold, graphic compositions that were influenced by the strong geometries of African art and rhythm.

Winifred looked at my work and predicted that as I matured, my compositions would become less angular and more curvaceous.  Less structured, and more fluid, she said.  

I've thought about that for almost forty years.

In 2011 I traveled to Israel with two friends, where we rented an apartment in a residential neighborhood in West Jerusalem. In the few short weeks that I lived in this neighborhood, I developed a habit of taking a short cut through this alley.  A high wall of white Jerusalem stone provided partial shade.  Along the wall, a hearty row of hollyhocks stood like cheerleaders, their faceless bonnets swaying in the breeze as if cheering on passersby. A few flowers reached above the wall, and seemed to peer over the other side.  Like the Jewish people, I thought to myself – ever inquisitive, always striving to reach beyond limits.

Looking down the length of the alley, I had an irresistible urge to exaggerate the perspective and converge buildings, walls, and trees in a vanishing point far to the left and out of sight.  The whole composition appeared as a complete image in my mind – a sideways funnel of architecture that demanded to be drawn.

I brought some paper and charcoal pencils to the alleyway.  I sketched the scene first in plain pencil in my sketchbook, then on a larger sheet of buff-colored paper.  

The next day was Shabbat.  In Israel, the Sabbath is held sacred, and as a day of rest, was no time to be creating in public.  But it was my last day in Jerusalem, and my only chance to do a color study of this alleyway that had seized my imagination.  I had brought my acrylics halfway around the world . . . I couldn't resist.  Thank goodness Israel is a place of diversity in which both secular and orthodox people coexist.  I'm somewhere in between.  I did not want to offend anyone, and worked quickly and furtively, receiving only a few dirty looks.

The resulting painting on paper, about 18" wide, became the basis of the final painting you see here, roughly twice as large.  With each rendering of the alleyway, the lines of perspective became bolder, simpler, and smoother.  By the time I finished, the buildings of West Jerusalem were drawn as if by a magnet to that offstage vanishing point.  

Then Winifred's smiling face came to mind.  "Okay, okay," I said out loud.  Soon the gentle curves of the tall eucalyptus branches arched across the sky, softening the hard architectural lines.  Finally I exaggerated the curves of each individual hollyhock leaf, and when I stepped back, angles and curves were in happy harmony.

Winifred was right.  I think this painting would have pleased her.  

Hollyhocks, Bezalel Street is for sale, and is part of my new calendar, The Jewish Eye 5780/2020 Calendar of Art – available in my webstore ($18 including shipping) and on Amazon ($18 prime).  If you want one, please consider buying it directly from me.  Amazon takes a big cut, and is NOT seller-friendly (to put it mildly).  You can view the entire calendar here.  

A good week to all!