I bought some Quince branches earlier in the year, around February, and found them very charming and evocative. The nature of the line that these branches create- slightly angular and almost hesitating in their direction- reminds me of the sort of line quality found in certain Asian ink drawings. In addition, I find Quince blooms to be exceptionally pretty.

The paintings in this series divide the picture plane. I chose to divide this painting into three sections in order to offer a poetic narrative about nature. The carved Quince branch at the top is the tree in bloom, a metaphor for hope and fresh starts, offering beauty to the world. The left section as we face the painting is also carved, and while I intended it to represent the bark of a tree, it also can be seen as a flow of water or as a cross section of the tree at a cellular level. The right section illustrates the grain of the wood panel, but also functions symbolically as a wave pattern, whether in water or soil or sand.

In a way, this painting, and others in this series, represent a celebration of the wood panels that they are carved on. Formerly, I had used these panels as a substrate for other paintings. I noticed, however, that the panels themselves were quite lovely, and this led to the idea of this series. Over 15 years ago I had done relief printmaking, first carving and then printing wood and linoleum blocks. The carving tools were still in my possession, and this made it easy to begin this investigation of these panels.

Finally, I must note the influence of Asian art on this series, particularly that of Japanese painters. San Francisco has always had a strong Japanese presence, and is blessed by a wonderful Asian Art Museum. While I have studied widely in many areas of art history, I have always admired the use of negative space in Japanese paintings. I am also moved by the surprising way that objects enter the picture plane, in a way that is both sensitive and dramatic. These qualities are found in this painting and in this series.

Last week I went with friends to the Picasso exhibit at the deYoung museum in Golden Gate Park in SF. Scores of his  paintings, prints and sculpture are on view there, part of a traveling show from the collection of of the Musee Picasso in Paris.
It is truly a gift from that museum, and the French Ministry of Culture, that these pieces are allowed to travel. I have never had the pleasure of visiting that museum; indeed, I have spent only 8 hours in Paris, and that was many years ago. So, viewing these works in my own town is a rare artistic and educational opportunity.
That said, I have never been a great fan of Picasso's paintings. He is wonderfully confident, creative and unafraid, but at times too self indulgent, and almost sloppy, in the execution of his ideas. In addition, he remains for me only a mediocre colorist, with occasional notable exceptions. (I have always been partial to Matisse, whose love of color and whose protean ability to reinvent himself and to invent new styles of painting makes him for me the defining talent of the 20th century.)
Despite these criticisms, I have never seen a bad Picasso drawing or print. He is perhaps the best draftsman of the last century. His sculpture is both astonishing and prescient in its creation of the major trends which followed it. And, his ceramic works are as free and lovely as his drawings. My niggling should not discourage a visit to this exhibition, which showcases a talent that is inspiring in its creative range and technical excellence. You should go and take a look- it will be well worth your time.

Here are some pieces that I particularly enjoyed:

• the "Portrait of Dora Maar" from 1937 (seen above). Picasso's use of color in this painting defies my criticisms, and his use of pattern is masterful.
  
• the assemblage sculpture "Tete de Tareau", or Head of a Bull, made so inventively and economically from bicycle handlebars and a leather bike seat. Breathtaking in its creativity and its defiance of sculptural canons.
• the "Self Portrait" from 1906, where he is clearly in the process of inventing Cubism, using a motif derived from African masks and their simplification of facial features that will be seen so dramatically in his later masterwork, "Demoiselles D'Avignon" (http://www.moma.org/explore/conservation/demoiselles/).