Saturday brought a trip out to the Fort Worth Modern for me and E, we went to catch the Chuck Close exhibit. Although using different methods of creation, he’s spent his artistic career focusing solely on printmaking.
I had a surprisingly emotional reaction to the whole thing. Out of the large number of prints displayed, many were of his own face. Others were of loved ones, family friends. I got the feeling as I walked around that I was watching the results of one man’s efforts to make sense out of the trials and events of life that every human at some point is faced with making sense out of. I don’t know about societies other than Western, but I imagine in most cultures the individuals have some struggle with natural life issues like confronting their own mortality and grieving for the death of loved ones, various reviews of their lives to see whether or not they withstand the acid test of personal ideas and notions of achievement, struggling with feelings of whether or not they’re going to exit the planet having left anything of lasting value. We all have various ways of dealing (or in most cases, not dealing) with these as they arise, and I couldn’t help but become overwhelmed by the idea that I was watching this man’s way.
It felt incredibly personal. I’m pretty humbled by any encounter I have with watching people’s lives unfold as they grow old, seeing photographs of various stages of one person’s life, seeing old friends after getting bigger bellies and losing more hair, watching generations of a family together in the same space in a way that illustrates how quickly time can pass. It has a certain way of dwarfing day to day circumstances and bringing perspective where there was none.
One print in particular struck me more deeply than the others. On the far wall in the second room was a print he made of his wife’s visage, his wife of thirty-five years. The entire print, almost three feet tall, he made using his own fingerprints in varying levels of ink. I knew I was staring at something more intimate than could ever be put into words.
