Laura Jeanne Grimes, artist
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Elizabeth Reifsnyder. March 19, 1922-November 4, 2010

11/29/2010

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Betty’s memorial service happened this past Saturday, November 27th, 2010.  The family gave me the great privilege of helping them by mounting an exhibit of her artwork for the service.   Saturday morning, 10:00 am, we met at the church.  It took about 3 hours to hang the show.  Hanging always takes longer than you plan on.  My system for hanging the matted pieces didn’t work.  But, my back up plan (table easels) did.  The framed pieces were not a problem to hang – except, the decisions about what hangs where, next to which piece, takes awhile.  Do you hang according to theme?  Medium?  Size?  What colors look together?  Yes, you look at all of that.  We got it done, with a lot of help. 

 The service was at 4:00 pm.  Betty’s loving family was there.  And, her friends were there – art friends, film group friends, tennis friends, church friends, symphony volunteer friends.   Living representations of her wide range of activities.  

 She had kept her life compartmentalized.  Few of the non-art friends even knew she was an artist.  The exhibit of her works blew them away.  “I had no idea!,” many exclaimed.  The strength of the work also amazed them.  She had never become a “Name Artist”.  But her work could stand up with many you would see in a museum.  At the age of 88, she kept doing her artwork.  Artists have to keep at it, recognition or not.

 
Such an amazing privilege be involved!  I had spent a few days with her daughter-in-law, looking thru stacks and stacks of drawings and prints.  I didn’t even know she had done printmaking!  She worked in several media.  We found a few self-portraits.   Her self-portraits were fearless.  Non-artists don’t understand why self-portraits don’t look like glamour shot photos.  But true artists do not flinch from the evidence of the mirror.

 The exhibit had to come down after the service was over.  A shame it couldn’t have stayed up for a month! 

 I didn't take photos of the exhibit.  I was so busy with the details of getting it together, I didn’t even remember my camera.  I wish I could show you the mid-century modern sensibility of so much of her work.  The intelligence of her mind, the sharpness of her observations. 

 At the age of 88, she had lived a rich, full life.  She died in her own home, with hospice care, loving family at her side.  “A good death,” the church pastor had said.  If a death can indeed be “good”— yes hers was.  She will be sorely missed by her family, by her friends.  She is irreplaceable.  

I have two of her drawings.  She came to my lifedrawing open studio every Tuesday morning, unless sick or out of town.  Occasionally, a model pulls a no-show.  When that happens, I model.  In deference to my husband, who would blow a gasket if I went full monty, I pose in sports bra and bike tights.  Her are two of Betty’s drawings of me.  In one, she draws me as if I were nude.  The other, done perhaps a year later, keeps the clothing on.  I think the earlier one is the stronger piece.  But, only my opinion.  I will treasure them both.


Picture
Laura Grimes, by Elizabeth Reifsnyder, watercolor

Picture
Laura Grimes, by Elizabeth Reifsnyder, pastel on paper


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The Rich Man and Lazarus

11/22/2010

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Here is a painting from about five years ago.  The Rich Man and the Poor Man, based on the parable Jesus tells in the Gospel of Luke.

A poor beggar, covered with sores, miserable, hungry, sits at the gate of a wealthy man.  This rich man simply ignores him.  That's all.  He doesn't kick this homeless man, he doesn't order him beaten.  As far as he is concerned, the poor man isn't even there.

Both men eventually die.  Lazarus goes to Heaven.  And the rich man?  He ends up in the Other Place.

His only sin was the sin of omission.  He isn’t in Hell because of what he did.  Rather, he is condemned because of what he didn’t do.  He failed, simply, to love his neighbor as he loved himself.

How do I love myself?  When I am hungry, I eat.  When thirsty, I get a drink.  When cold, I put on something warm.  When sick or injured, I go to the doctor.  I love myself in very practical ways.

Sobering.  

I updated the setting to more modern times.  The Rich Man and his Barbie girlfriend ignore the miserable man at their feet.  The wealthy man's dogs, sleek, well fed, well groomed, lick the homeless man's sores.  They alone recognize him as "one of the pack" and offer the only help they can.
Picture

Picture
Here is a much better painting, by  Bonifazio Veronese.  Not to be confused with Paolo, who was the better of the two artists. ( Alas, if Paolo painted the same scene, I have not found it. )


And, here is the text, from the 16th chapter of the Gospel of Luke:
19 “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. 20 At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores 21 and longing to eat what fell from the rich man’s table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores. 22 “The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In hell, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. 24 So he called to him, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’ 25 “But Abraham replied, ‘Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. 26 And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.’ 27 “He answered, ‘Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my father’s house, 28 for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.’ 29 “Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.’ 30 “‘No, father Abraham,’ he said, ‘but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’ 31 “He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’ “


You may also enjoy listening to Maddy Prior singing “Dives and Lazarus” in a live performance, on Youtube:  



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sl3xFnoDZ_I







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Losing a friend to Death

11/3/2010

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A young friend died last week.  A  motorcycle accident.  He was 24.  Peter was a sweet, funny, smart and serious young man.  I have known his fiancee since she was child.  Lisa's mother died when she was 10.  It isn't fair.  It never should have happened.   Peter and Lisa volunteered with me at a free after-school program, an outreach to underprivileged children.   He was so good with the kids.  A Vietnamese-American, he went to Vietnam for several months to work in a medical mission.  I reunited with him at the "Keep Austin Spicy" festival.  I didn't realize he was back.  I ran to him and shouted "Peter!!!!"  I gave him a big hug.  I had only known him one school year, only seen him once a week.  Yet, when I saw him, my heart filled with joy.  "Peter!!!"   He had returned from Vietnam determined to go to medical school.  He was working hard toward that goal.  All the tomorrows that lay before Peter and Lisa are gone.  This is senseless.

Another friend is dying.  Betty is 88 years old.    We are not close friends, but she is a member of my lifedrawing group.  I have seen her almost every Tuesday for, I think, two years.  A talented artist, she was a WAVE in World War II.  I visited her yesterday and found her in a cheerful mood, even tho in pain.  A great gal. What a life she has had; what changes she has seen!   Her death too is a loss.  Talking to the elderly is like traveling in a time machine.  When they are gone, the time machine no longer  goes to that particular time and place.  This too is senseless.


Picture
Here we have Death and the Maiden, by Hans Schwarz, the Northern Renaissance artist who died in 1532, only 40 years old.


A classic theme in Northern art.  Vanitas.  Death woos the maiden, who shrinks from him.  But, he holds her fast.  


Italian poet Cesare Pavese wrote: 

Verrà la morte e avrà i tuoi ochi.  (Death is coming and will have your eyes.)  

"Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity."  


Is all senseless?

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