Porch Painting, 2015, oil on cotton
34 x 40
I really didn't like the music of Ornette Coleman when I was 14. I loved Charlie Parker, but to me the verdict was still out on "free jazz." Fearful of being duped 50 years after the fact, among the few friends I had who cared about such things, I took the position that form in art and music was necessary, and that without them one treads the dangerous line of charlatanism.
I think there might be at least three compositions buried underneath this painting. The white and alizarin cloud was born mostly out of frustration, not just with the failure of the composition, but also the conditions under which it was painted; a porch in a rented triple decker in Roxbury- not a proper place for a studio.