I am an artist that values, above all, the ability of art to move me emotionally and psychically. I make art that makes me question, that derives its power from being vulnerable to interpretation, that is intuitive, that is beautiful. — April Gornik
I have been wanting for a while to write about April Gornik’s paintings. But instead I just get lost in them, and then eventually wander away from the computer feeling full of light and stillness, full of the under-the-skin hum of a storm on the horizon, full of something bubbling up from deep places.
These paintings punch into me and grab tight, pull me close, closer, right into them. Me inside the painting, the painting inside me. That amazing ecstatic moment of utter connection with the art and with myself.
This is what I look for. Connection with others, connection with self. The fascinating conversation where minds vibrate on the same frequency and time disappears while people wander around in each other’s heads. The meal and the drink that are perfect for the moment, whether it’s nine courses with ancient Margaux or curry and a beer. The kind of sex that is also love and discovery. Music in my headphones, or coming alive right in front of me as the band begins to play. Dancing. Writing something that makes me feel fierce and focused and for that moment totally aligned inside, the tumblers of me all coming together and unlocking parts of myself that I have always hoped would someday be free. The heart-stopping beauty of a dragonfly against a blue sky, or storm clouds, or cool, careless wind rising against a gray autumn sky that makes me feel so full of possibility.
I look for that which will lever me open and expand me, and I find it in April Gornik’s work.
Gornik says her work is non-narrative but yes, full of story. I think so too. The story is there the light — my god, the light. It’s in the size — immense and yet so intimate, so personal. It’s in the motion and the stillness. It’s in the structure, the particular focal points that draw me in, that make me want to find my way into the distance of it and just keep going.
I think of these works as internal landscapes — Gornik isn’t painting a patch of planet Earth, she’s painting her own interior, and mine too. I stand on the edge of these paintings and feel as though I am stepping into myself. If I follow that green path as it begins to burn, in the forest beyond something is waiting to happen, something that already makes me feel huge inside…
Not a narrative, but a story that I understand not so much with my head as with my heart.
…visual arts are and always have been a certain kind of virtual reality. The real power of the visual arts in their capacity as virtual reality is the physicality of the experience, the somatic connection that remains between the work of art, the artist who made it, and the person looking at it. That connection is an essential part of the human experience…
— “An Artist’s Perspective on Visual Literacy” by April Gornik
Amen, sister.
See April Gornik’s work at her website. Read about it here.
And watch this excerpt from a 2007 interview in which Gornik speaks about her work and takes us into her studio as she paints.
I talk in this blog a fair amount about what it means to me to be a human being and a writer. It’s an absolute pleasure to write this little love letter to an artist who talks back to those essential parts of me.
April, thank you for permission to use your images, and thank you so much for your work. I really love it.
Her work is amazing. I noticed it through the link you have here, and Iâve visited her site a few times, reveling in her work and what she has to say about it. Good to see that video.
Her statement is perfect â short and to the point. I think it could be used as a definition of art. At least the kind of art I care about. Clearly she is accomplishing her goal.
And I read her essay on visual literacy a while back as well. As a photographer, Iâm not in total agreement with some of the things she said about photography, but she does separate the materiality of art photography – anyway – no matter. I think she is right about where we are heading in regards to âvisual literacy.â As in this:
âWe are bombarded to the point of being inured with images but, ironically, a vast number of people are increasingly unable to perceive the importance of the physicality of images, and the nuances of the mediums that produce them, which in part gives them meaning.â Another one of the side effects of technology and advertising has on art. Yesterday I read an article predicting the death of fine art photographic prints following closely the path of the demise of film. Maybeâ¦.
Iâve been thinking about beauty and what that means to me in relation to art. For me, beauty and intuition and hope are all tied in there together. I see that in Aprilâs work.
In an essay on beauty, Robert Adams talks about beauty and form saying, âBeauty is in my view, a synonym for the coherence and structure of underlying lifeâ¦â¦ Why is form beautiful? Because I think it helps us meet our worst fear, the suspicion that life may be chaos and that our suffering is without meaning.â And â How, more specifically, does art reveal Beauty, or Form? Like philosophy it abstracts. Art simplifies. It is never exactly equal to life.â
That is maybe what I envy about painters; I think it may be easier for them to simplify. Photography is more tied to specifics.
Anyway, Ms Gornikâs work is beautiful. As you say, it connects me with something in myself, and it also connects me with something bigger than myself and also with the artist. Wow, good art can be a powerful thing. Iâd love to have some of her work on my walls. For the moment Iâll I have to imagine how much more impact her pieces would have in person, but that is easy to do.
Hereâs part of a poem about remembering landscapes (by Dag Hammarskjold):
But (I) remembered
The dark-blue night
Above, the tree line,
The open moor in moonlight,
The crest in shadow,
Remembered other dreams
Of the same mountain country:
Twice I stood on its summits,
I stayed by its remotest lake,
And followed the river
Towards its source.
The seasons have changed
And the light
And the weather
And the hour
But it is the same land.
And I begin to know the map
And to get my bearings.
****
That seemed appropriate. Sorry to go on so long….
No need to apologize. The nice thing about the InterWeb is that there is enough room for all of us.
Lovely poetry, thanks very much indeed.
And yes to the idea of beauty and intuition and hope being tied together. I’ll be thinking more about that.
This is exactly what I love about the internet. Having people share the things that make them tick. And not just their reaction to someone’s art but the art itself. I, unfortunately, never heard of April Gornik until now. Now that I have I think I’m going to be very appreciative.
Thanks Kelley.
Duff
It occurs to me that I did the poet and the poem (and the reader) an injustice by not including the whole poem. Itâs really not long at all. I left off the beginning:
Is it a new country
In another world or reality
Than Dayâs?
Or did I live there
Before Day was?
I awoke
To and ordinary morning with gray light
Reflected from the street.
But (I) remembered
The dark-blue night
Above, the tree line,
The open moor in moonlight,
The crest in shadow,
Remembered other dreams
Of the same mountain country:
Twice I stood on its summits,
I stayed by its remotest lake,
And followed the river
Towards its source.
The seasons have changed
And the light
And the weather
And the hour
But it is the same land.
And I begin to know the map
And to get my bearings.
by Dag Hammarskjold
Thanks for the view. The use of light is really something. I think that without that use of light there would be no meaningful form.
@ Barbara — I think the ability to capture that kind of light in paint is just astonishing. I have zero talent for visual art (less than zero, probably) and I just stand in awe of it.
@ Jennifer — Thanks for the whole poem, it’s lovely. To get one’s bearings, well, that’s the great quest, no?
I am reminded of this poem from some time ago:
TAXES . . .
They say death and taxes are the only two things you canât avoid.
Thereâs a finality there that is hard to ignore.
A sense of dying already let in the door.
But what if you want to deny this truth?
What if you wanted nothing, and needed less?
Would governments be
Satisfied without redress?
Somewhere out there on the edge, where the sky meets the earth, where
Birds fly and the unknown still lies like a sea serpent looking for dinner,
We look to find our salvation.
An eternal spring, a new life form that when wedded with ours will create an
Everlasting, always young, new humankind.
And I wonder, could we do that without changing, rearranging our current
Universe.
Or would this change like some domino exhibit collapse us all into
Some black hole that is worse than death and . . . taxes.
I know that place where birds fly and the unknown still lies. And I think we’re always rearranging our own personal corner of the universe, don’t you?
THE SUNSHINES BLUE . . .
On the day outside my mind,
rides like wind flies and trains of inconsequence trade themselves for thoughts
as I wish for more than I can have or hold or even use in this world gone mad as a hatter,
In a world where anything can un happen, can re happen, can happen more or less with consequences and all the trimmings,
While we (you and I) still stay in a quandary, at a loss,
Up in the air like a coin star-crossed, our minds flipping, tripping at all the evil dripping
from the last bomb tossed.
I have been studying your wonderful art for only the past few weeks now, and I LOVE your individuality of not only your paintings and drawings, etc.; but of a caring and very interactive woman. I someday will own a piece of your “beauty” (art) and every time i “look” at it, I will remember all I have learned about you so far; that there ARE special, wonderful people out there that make this world a little bit brighter, calmer, and lovely thanks to your efforts. Keep up your wonderful(ness)!!! one of your many fans, Lori
Lori, thanks for visiting and commenting. But I want to make sure you understand that I’m not April, I’m just a fan of her work.
If you want to contact April to express your appreciation directly, you should visit her website. You’ll find many more gorgeous images there.