From Paintings to Self-Portraits

Escuela Oficial de Idiomas de Motril

C1 Course 2013-14

Diseño de Emilio AlzuetaPublicado en Salobreña, 2014

© de los textos, sus autores© de la introducción, Emilio Alzueta

Aljamía es una colección de la Escuela Oficial de Idiomas de Motril, un centro de la Consejería de Educación de la Junta de Andalucía.

Este volumen -el número 5 de la colección- no está destinado a la venta; tiene tan sólo una función educativa.

In a story by the Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges, a man takes up the infinite task of drawing all the beings of the world on a whitewashed wall. Given a supernatural licence to finish, when he looks at the unending myriad of figures, he discovers that they make up a portrait of his own face. The process of learning about the world -no matter the subject, but especially if it implies an interconnection of subjetcs- always ends up being an opportunity to learn about oneself. At the end of the day, is not that the greatest learning?

In the Introduction to Discovering the Poem in You, the other Aljamía publication which appeared this year, I have delineated the principles of a conception of teaching/learning languages at an advanced level which envisages the wholeness of the person of the student, and his organic growth, intellectually, aesthetically and ethically. I will not repeat myself here, then; but I will quote the words by one of the C1 students in his final assessment of the course -words, which I think, summarize much of that programme of education in the form of lived experience:

“Today, however, I comprehend that this language is a marvellous vehicle (not a scientific subject), with which I’m travelling around the world and history, I’m discovering fantastic people and I’m feeling moved by different creative expressions. Definitely, I’ve found an oasis inside so much rubbish, where I can provide many answers to my concerns and incidentally understand myself.”

One of the first activities that we did in this year’s C1 course was related to the description of one painting, Land-scape with the Fall of Icarus, by the Dutch master Peter Brueghel. The students had to describe this classic in detail,

Introduction

paying attention to the visual and chromatic structure and to how this had been deliberately employed by the paint-er in order to emphazise the message. For this was, indeed, the goal of this first part of the activity: to try to under-stand the painting’s meaning. To enrichen the context, we followed this up by listening to a recording of an art critic dealing with the same task as the students, and we read two famous poems written in the 20th century on the basis of this 16th century canvas: one by W.H: Auden and one by William Carlos Williams. The following days the students were asked to bring to class a colour reproduction of a painting they liked -the period or author didn’t matter, along with a more detailed, written description and analysis of the meaning and painter’s intent. In pairs they shared their insights and discussed the works of art. The complete activity was not only an opportunity to practice one of the cur-riculum’s macrofunctions -description-, but a sign of some of the marks of the course: the interconnection of disci-plines, the daring to venture into unknown ground and the development of the ability to read the signs of the world.

The third term brought a reading of a chapter of a History of Britain, in which the author masterly recreates the figure of Elizabeth I and Elizabethan times. We complemented the detailed understanding of the text with a movie, Elizabeth, The Golden Age and with a surprise activity: the reading and recitation of a sonnet by Shakespeare, fol-lowed by the analysis of one of the great masterpieces in the history of art: Las Meninas by Velázquez. The point was to try to understand the connection between the sonnet and the painting, which we explored in pairs and then as a group. by Socratic dialogue. I can still remember some of the expressions of discovery when we hit on the answer.

Finally, almost at the end of the course, we did another activity related to painting. It was a listening comprehe-sion in which the students watched a didactic video (Khan Academy) with the description and analysis of one of Rembrandt’s famous self-portraits. The exercise belonged to a kind of listening exercise which follows the cognitive structure of understanding, and to which I am very inclined, in contrast with the mostly academic and reading-based tasks wich we tend to be given at examinations. As a follow-up, the students read a poem entitled Face in the Mirror

by Robert Graves, and had to write a self-portrait in prose, in which they should attend not only to physical but to moral features. As an example, I took the iniciative writing a brief description of myself in our blog.

This sequence was not deliberate, but merely accidental. Jim Srivener, a well-known writer on ELT, once said some-thing that has stayed with me for years of teaching practice: “Prepare the lesson, but then teach the students, not the lesson.” That is, pay attention to the syllabus, to coordination, to preparation, but then, be open to improvise, to remain sensitive to what the class brings up. Now the class has brought up this revealing circle: from paintings to self-portraits. From learning about the world -travelling, cultures, global problems- to learning about oneself -medicine, psychology. From reaching a higher proficiency in the English language, through months of passionate, but very hard work, to understanding how we have been affected, how we have grown in the process.

So here it is, a final publication which is a kind of summary, and also a memory of this year’s shared experiences for all of those who took part in the C1 course, 2013-14, at the Escuela Oficial de Idiomas of Motril. On the right, you will find the descriptions the students wrote at the beginning of the year, updated and revised by themselves, and il-lustrated by the painting the refer to. On the left, the self-portraits, accompanied by a black-and-white picture, fleet-ing image of those who we are now. The book ends up with a detailed description of Las Meninas, trying to conjure up some of that beautiful evening of discovery, when in the middle of our reading of Shakespeare’s sonnet, it dawned on me that we could also explore that masterpiece of masterpieces (promptly available in front of us through the Internet!). A liking for improvisation that also offers this new little volume of Aljamía collection, as a memory of a journey together.

Emilio AlzuetaEscuela Oficial de Idiomas de Motril

A suffocating atmosphere, unbearably hot. Burning lungs, yearning for the tiniest molecule of oxygen. Death and rottenness thrive where life is nowhere to be seen in a well-nigh alien landscape. It is not casually that these disturbing feelings are evoked when admiring this painting, but utterly intentionally. Dali’s ever provocative brush strokes convey this emotions to make us aware of our perishable nature in contrast with the perdurable inanimate matter.

It is through the image of the decaying watches, which are melting and invaded by those insects typically attracted to decomposing matter, and the presence of both a dead tree and an agonising human-like creature, who incidentally, is thought to be the artist himself, that the unavoidable fate of living beings is depicted. That is also why each watch shows a different hour: ruthless hands point out ominously the expiration date of each of us while the cliffs, soil and sea watch the show impassively.

Everything in the painting is outstanding, but maybe it’s originality is the overriding quality. In all likelihood, seldom will Dali’s sheer creativity be surpassed by any other painter in future.

The Persistence of Memory [Salvador Dalí]

A pyramid in the middle of the naked dessert, like in ancient Egypt, hints at the meticulousness within. At the foot of this triangular protuberance, on both sides, two ponds lay carving their way down in the soil, more interested in inner affairs than mundane ones. On the northern shoreline of the ponds, two symmetric thin lines of pitch black undergrowth thrive, leaning submissively as one.

Should the traveller dare head further northwards, misled by the apparent quietness of the landscape left behind, they would be warned by the long creases which cross the rather broad barren of the tumultuous nature of what is to come, a wild forest of jet black wires that flourish in anarchy, as if each one was endowed with own will, trying to be different from each other. This wilderness on the surface mirrors nothing but the bustling activity in the core buried deep underground.

As the climate plays a role shaping the landscape, the impact of environmental factors can also be spotted on this particular scenery, like the increasingly abundant pearl white wires which seem to have been drained of life through the sheer exhaustion brought about by the ruthless demands of this thing called life.

Alberto Romero

Manhood, painted in 1842 by Thomas Cole, belongs to a series entitled “The Voyage of Life”. The author, using universal symbolism, makes us the silent witnesses of a boy’s voyage from the cradle to the grave. The still waters, with which the series starts, symbolize the onset of his life, turning into dark turbulent waters as the boy is going through the different seasons of his life. The first time you look at this canvas you feel impressed by the realistic and vivid depiction of nature; but this is not only an accurate portrayal of North American landscape, but also a metaphor of human soul. Manhood depicts a man being swept away by the current while the water whirls into a rush of white foam. Standing up on his boat, without a helm, he can hardly keep his balance. His hands are interwoven, begging for help as he has been left alone at the mercy of his inevitable fate. His guardian angel, who used to accompany him, is now placed at the top, on the left, up in the sky and barely visible to the naked eye. Between the man and his protector there is now a bank of black clouds; the angel can see him but the man can just trust and pray. He is belittled by the rugged landscape. There is no grass or bright colours, just twisted trees and a gloomy sky. This menacing scenery stands for a stage of life full of troubles and incertitudes. Without the naivety of childhood or the confidence of youth, the man feels weak to face his fate. Everything is happening in the same direction, following the river flow; therefore, two main lines rule the scene: the main one to the small falls, the second one to the horizon. In the foreground, on the horizon, it is dawning. Darkness melts into the pale light of yellowish shades. The first rays of sun, filtering through the clouds, and the ocean with its still water, lend a certain peace after the rough trip. The ocean not only symbolizes the end of our winding voyage, but also death as its logical end.

 

Manhood [Thomas Cole]

Flyaway brunette hair, which has a tendency to remain untidy, almost messy, despite my fruitless trims and attempts to give it body. Tanned complexion from the long hours spent outdoors. Small forehead in which some fine lines are starting to be drawn tenuously: lines that are nothing but emotions lived throughout the years , expressions of hilarious moments, sadness or uncertainties about life itself. Big, dark eyes framed by thick eyelashes, although shorter than I would like to, eyes particularly prone to show tiredness from living against my body clock.

My face used to be round with chubby cheeks, which have sharpened over the years, leaving any trace of my childhood behind. The sun and the sea have flecked my nose and cheeks with freckles. When I look at myself in the mirror, my reflection sometimes seems to show another woman dwelling in my own skin, shier, quieter, happier and sometimes less confident than myself.

Living in my skin, there is someone whose mood and ideas are sometimes a bit unstable, who finds inspiration from stormy writers although she loves swinging social life, who is grumpy and impatient. Someone maybe a bit selfish when things come out wrong and troubles crop out, because at the end of the day, when time and dreams slip away, I consider acceptable to be a bit cowardly, even to commit small misdemeanors if, with that, you can be moderately happy.

Estrella González

The Arnolfini Marriage is a painting by the Flemish artist Jan van Eyck in 1434. It can be appreciated at the National Gallery in London. In the forefront we can behold a man and a woman, holding hands, and a little dog in front of them. The former is wearing sober garments. A long, velvet, brown coat and the big, dark hat are remarkable. The latter is dressed in apple-green, with a sumptuously ornamented gown that covers a blue robe. Her head is covered with a white cap. In the background the rest of the dependency can be admired. On the right there is a magnificent, vermilion bed. In the upper part a six-branched chandelier hangs from the ceiling, under which one can read the inscription, “Johannes de eyck fuit hic” (Jan van Eyck was here). A convex mirror, a blood-red armchair and a brown rug occupy the central part of the picture. On the left hand-side the light enters through a wooden window. Behind the man there is a chest. There are some red fruits on that chest and on the window-sill. On the bottom left-hand corner a pair of clogs lie on the floor. The image seems to be solemn. Not for nothing, both of these people were noble. They are standing and, after the title of the painting, they are getting married. It is said that before the 15th century couples could enter into marriage with their mere consent. The fact that one of the candles of the chandelier is lit despite the daylight was interpreted as the presence of God, Who gave His approval to the wedding. The green colour of the woman’s garments is seen as hope and both her white cap and the spotless mirror as purity. However, the ceremony appears to be clandestine in that the woman was supposed to be pregnant, something that had not been proved as the Arnolfinis did not have any offspring. The presence of a dog, a man’s loyal friend, can be taken as their desire to be parents. The red fruits are a symbol of the love the couple felt for each other.

The Arnolfini Marriage [Jan Van Eyck]

Whenever, by chance, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I usually scowl: a high brow merges with a receding hairline; short, spikey, brown hair which, two weeks after having had it cut, becomes mousy and grows tangled strands as though my pillow meant to snatch them from me; asymmetrical, hazel eyes topped by bushy eyebrows and a one-centimetre scar on the bottom left eyelid, caused by a concussion at the soft-hearted age of three; a Roman nose featured by wide, maternal-grandmother-inherited nostrils; both temples filled with dimples, which do not represent but the mark of teenage spots; gradually bigger ears (whether I like it or not); medium-length sideboards which lead into an everlastingly ill-shaven, four-day beard, which covers a double chin and a square jaw; thick lips that enclose big, crooked incisors; a rather dark complexion that suggests a resemblance to a regular Arab’s appearance –hence purchasing some silver bracelets in Tanger turns out to be truly economical for me.

Enrique Martín

Expressing vividly the passing of life in a subjective emotional style, this enigmatic painting belongs to the so-called Picasso’s Blue Period. It is precisely considered to be the central work of this period, due to the strong blue hue depicted in the tableau. It is with realistic portrayals of the physical world that the painter tries to stun the viewer in favour of a more subjective view.

Theatrically organized, the protracted, barefooted figures are absorbed into their own inner universe, averting their eyes from the world on the other side of their pictorial reality. The stern woman on the right, stands inert and static whilst rocking in her arms an asleep child. She is being confronted by a semi-naked couple, joined in a reluctant hug. It is in this lack of passion that they resemble one another most.

The bareness of the place, the sketches in the background evoking both the sadness of loneliness and the comfort of human warmth, the timeless atmosphere... all of them are features of a painting which is taking a breath to consider characteristic feelings attached of life: love, motherhood, eroticism, suffering, and reality and romanticism.

Life [Pablo Picasso]

The mirror sends me back the image of a stern gaze that tries objectively to separate the two ways of looking at myself. On one hand I see the evident features, such as very dark almond-shaped eyes, a relatively narrow, turned-up nose as well as fortunately still thick light-brown hair. During the summer, my hair gets blond streaks in a natural way whereas in winter I pay the hairdresser to maintain this colour because I think it makes my complexion softer. Anything else? I have got thin eyebrows which, thankfully, don’t need to be depilated very often. I only had my ears pierced just to wear simple earrings, a universally accepted western custom that I am happy with.

Another thing my face tells me is that years don’t go by in vain. Apart from the inevitable signs of ageing, I pick on my lips, which hardly reflect my real mood due to a congenital facial paralysis. The frankness that I would like to show with a simple smile, has to be shown through my glance. The rest is just a thesaurus of the countless attributes put down to moisturizing creams available in the market, trying stubbornly to slowdown the unavoidable signs of ageing, I mean, they are expected to shrink the look of pores, to redefine the facial shape, to lighten dark spots and, to top it all off, to remove fine lines.

Meaning? Troubles, surprises, children, long days studying and reading, long summer days trying to get a sunburnt “healthy” look, cigarettes, beloved ones who inexorably disappear and, above all, time…No matter what you do to try to stop it, time will pass. In the words of Shakespeare “God has given you one face, and you make yourself another”.

María del Mar Sánchez

It is a peaceful landscape, which produces in me feelings of balance and hope, because of two factors: the variety of soft colours that have been employed and the use of the light. Although most of the landscape was painted with cold colours, such as green, blue and white, there are some brushstrokes of bright yellow and pink that make the atmosphere not sad at all. Moreover, while the left bank of the river is dark, the right side is well-lit. Not only does it seem that the sunbeams shine on across the clouds, illuminating this latter place, but it also looks that they will soon reach the opposite border.

I suppose that the author didn’t want to attract the spectator’s attention neither to the wide river, in the central part, nor to the radiant grass and trees. It is clear that he wanted to focus on the small horse at the bottom of the picture. Maybe he would like to become this animal, fleeing in this way from his stressful life, as well as from the noisy and polluted world.

Horse by the River [Antonio Pinos]

Rarely do people agree about whom you look like: your father or your mother. In my case, none of them have such dark eyes like mine. I wish I had a small Roman nose, as my mother, but, no doubt, my father’s genes have prevailed. I have also inherited from him my determination, as well as my stubbornness, while patience and tolerance are my mother’s legacy. As decades go by, our own character is forged at the same pace as wrinkles are drawn in our face. Women having deep lines between the eyebrows and a mean mouth, as I have, are supposed to be meticulous and excessively worried about things for which they are responsible. Admittedly, it was the way in which I used to behave ten years ago, before a key event in my life changed my mind. Since that moment, I have tried to keep my head and to think twice before frowning or pursing my lips because of unimportant things.

María Jesús Maldonado

In this painting we can appreciate the unnecessary suffering of a person who was condemned to carry a rock to the top of a mountain for the rest of his life. He is Sisyphus, the man who was sentenced for trying to cheat death. Albert Camus wrote The myth of Sisyphus as a symbol of the absurd existence of the human being, who lives repeating routines, useless efforts and materialist action constantly; which can only fade away with the approaching of death. Only if we realize the purpose of our existence, if we are aware of our mortality, will we take full advantage of every experience and every minute of our life. This feeling will make us free and fulfilled human beings.

Steve Jobs said in a commencement speech at Stanford University “Live as if it were the last day of your life” and “Remember we’re all going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose” That is perhaps one of the best lesson I have learned this year -and we have learned a lot of things in this C1 course.

Sisyphus [Tizian]

I have receding hair lines that always show honest -though seldom bright- ideas. A broad forehead with wrinkles that furrow in parallel, obvious signs of age and lived experiences. A large face and chubby cheeks is the genetic inheritance from my mother. My thick eyebrows are never surprised by anything. Big, sad and green eyes which never lie, and which have seen wonderful and horrible things. My elongated and pointed nose can smell goodness but not treason. Three beauty spots on my left side are there to remind me of the three most important things in life. Thick lips ready to love and be loved with passion, as if for the first time. Big ears prepared to listen to wonderful sounds of life, and which are sick of hearing the hypocrisy of those who govern us. In short, this is a face that shows the greatest compassion and sometimes the greatest hatred in the same person; as it is well-known by those who are loved and hated by me.

Alfonso Rodríguez

This is one of the paintings I like, due to its hyper-realism. It was painted by William Harnett, an artist who emigrated from Ireland to the US during the potato famine. He worked as an engraver during the day, while in the night he took classes at art schools in Philadelphia and New York. He achieved enormous popularity with a type of still life that involved the use of trompe l’oeil (art technique that employs realistic imagery to create the optical illusion that depicted objects exist in three dimensions). This concept had a profound influence on American Realist painters and a series of great masters of trompe l’oeil arose around the end of the 19th century. Some of Harnett’s compositions were so successful that they were imitated by his numerous followers.

Materials for a Leisure Hour was painted in 1879 and gives us the sense of recent human presence through the steaming pipe resting on the edge of the table, the used matches and the half-eaten biscuit and its crumbs. The sense of fleeting time is also given through the folded-up newspaper in the middle, with its date of publication visible. The painting includes a bottle of beer and a tankard. All these objects look as if arranged at random but reveal a sense of harmony and carefully meditated equilibrium.

Materials for a Leisure Hour [William Harnett]

I am a 61-year-old man, whose appearance at first sight is the one of a person not very tall, a little bit overweight and sun-tanned, because from the moment I got retired, I have been taking care of a piece of land I have in Salobreña.

Having a look at my bald head, and under a lined forehead, I see bue eyes with clear eyelashes and not bushy eyebrows; a small and straight nose that shadows thick lips, above a not very pointed chin. These particular parts of my face are included in an oval face whose sides are occupied by two small ears. The back side of the head is covered by thin and blond hair which is tending to white nowadays.

Although some defects are included such as a defective eyesight, some freckles in the bald head, bags under my eyes and more things not to be said, I strongly believe I am a not very ugly man and able to do many things in life, yet.

Francisco Sánchez

This painting -oil on canvas- portrays two women walking on a beach in Valencia. The focal point of the work is the light. In fact, the author, Joaquín Sorolla, was called the painter of light because he was able to capture this element in all of his paintings.

The two central figures are his beloved wife and, walking in front of her, his older daughter. Both of them are wearing white dresses, which create a perfect atmosphere of light. The wife wears a wide-brimmed sun hat with beautiful tulle waving in the wind, and an opened umbrella on her left hand. We appreciate that both objects are playing with the breeze, one of the pursuits of the artist. Besides, we are presented with amazingly well-painted shadows of them. Not only the one over the white dress but on her face. The younger woman has a similar position, sauntering over the sand and against the wind. She carries her hat on the right hand, letting us be aware of her blank stare, as she was immersed within her thoughts. On the background a piece of clear and peaceful sea comes and touches the shadows of the women.

Joaquín Sorolla was known by the light in his works. On this canvas, this play of light and shadows make us feel that we are inside the picture.

Walk on the Beach [Joaquín Sorolla]

Straight, black hair, sometimes frizzy; short or long depending on the season; light lines appearing in the wide forehead; pencil-thin eyebrows, not so long eyelashes, which move quickly and gracefully as in a flirt. You do not know what color you can see in these eyes; mixing light brown and light green, it is all up to the light. But surely they are deep and mysterious. How have you ever understood what they are saying? Rosy cheeks, expressing the happiness of a soul; an oval jaw; a snub nose; and a mean mouth with thin, pale lips. No bags under the eyes, maybe a little blue because of tiredness. No pimples, no freckles; just funny dimples, deeper in the left side. What is behind this mask? Happiness, worry, confusion: everybody knows but none is sure. In it you can see kindness, smiles and a wish to conquer the world.

Lidiana Moreno

Were they lovers, the same sex or opposite sex, brother and sister, other family members or friends? Was the significance of the embrace, love, comfort, pain, sadness, bereavement or joy? Was it the beginning or the end of a relationship? Before I give you the answers to some of the questions raised here, I’d like to describe the picture: In the foreground the embracing couple seem to be almost translucent and merge into a sea of blue mist, while in the background an empty city overlooks the striking image. I had the impression that this could be an ancient Islamic city, but to describe the embracing couple is impossible, because of the doubts about their relationship and feeling. However, when I discovered the title of the picture, everything became crystal clear and now I’m going to share the secret with you: the painting’s real title is The Prodigal Son.

Embracing Couple [Pedro Cano]

This male individual, nearly in his forties, could be from Italy, Portugal or Greece. His facial features are, without any doubt, Latin: dark complexion, hazel eyes and brown hair. At the moment, his head is showing a few grey hairs, which are receding and deserting him through the waste pipe from the shower, to give the forehead a higher profile; rumour has it that the lack of hair can be the cause for growing a beard. His head was described by his “friends”, when he was a child, as an egg or a melon; “drunkards and children always tell the truth”, so this graphic image may be appropriate. And finally, we’re going to decorate Mr Potato Head with two starving eyes, a humble nose, two slightly protruding ears (which round up and give a certain balance to the head) and a wide mouth with fleshy lips, which are still learning to kiss like a lover, a father and a friend; it’s a pity that he didn’t have time to learn more like a son.

Juan Francisco Blánquez

This painting is an expression of pain, horror, anguish and disgust; what the artist felt alter hearing the news of the terrible bombing of Guernica on April 26, 1937, during the Spanish Civil War.

Guernica is rich in symbolic details, but is basically a testimony of the horrors caused by mechanized war, the tragedies and the suffering it inflicts on the innocent civilian victims, especially the most vulnerable ones: women, children and elderly people. It is painted in black and white as it represents a tremendous disaster for Spanish citizens.

There is a light bulb on top of the picture that represents the fallen bomb or maybe the sun. Below the light-bulb we can see many different images of people and animals suffering. One of the most impressive images is that of a desperate crying woman who is holding in her arms the dead body of her baby. We can see the figure of a man with arms in terror entrapped by fire. All of these features, indeed the whole painting, express the pain and chaos provoked by the destruction of a war.

Guernica [Pablo Picasso]

In the mirror I can see a clean oval face without make-up that seems elongated by the effect produced by the long straight light-brown hair that slightly touches it. I see an expressive forehead which contracts everyday with anger and concerns; feelings that cannot be disguised. I see big greenish-brown almond eyes and obvious dark circles that are the mark of many sleepless nights, along with some small wrinkles that begin to appear and show that years go by and I am not a teenager any longer. I see rosy cheeks with dimples that blush easily without control and only loose their colour when sick.

It’s amazing how our genes can play with our features and characteristics; my son has got the same dimples on his face and my daughter has got my eyes. Some freckles on my cheeks and nose are inherited from my mother. Pink and full lips that love to kiss my babies’ soft and tender skin. There are also a few moles. The way we see ourselves in the mirror each day depends on the way we feel in that moment. It is true that our face is the mirror of our soul and the people that know us in depth are conscious of that and notice when there is something wrong or good. Our eyes cannot lie.

Ana Belén Gordillo

Only after a long time reflecting have I decided to express my point of view about this beautiful watercolour. Although, at first sight, it’s the life that is taking place in a concrete picturesque square which can be considered the most important part of the painting, at no time could the point of view from where the painter shows us his/her work of art, be forgotten, mainly because the long proportional part that it is taking.

Therefore, if these two parts are analyzing consciously, we would perceive some differences, not only with reference to the place, but also with reference to the colours. Two faces of a same moment are being shown in the picture. Also, two different characters who spend their time in different ways.

On the one hand, it is the loneliness, coldness, darkness and order which are being reflected in that first plane, whilst, on the other hand, it’s the brightness, the happiness, the people, which fill that special space, which give it, in a word, life.

Indiscreet Window [Salomé Salazar]

It has been a long time since I can’t get round to enjoying gazing at this my attractive face. Possibly there are two reasons which can explain this fact. On the one hand the kind of life that, in addition, is a direct cause of the reshaping that my face and its expression are “suffering”; and on the other hand, the little wish of noticing all the changes that have been produced in it in the last years. However, I’m going to treat to decribe it to you, shedding light on the sense of some of the most expressive parts. My hair, black-brown, but greying, neither short nor long. A not special forehead, carved in the middle in a vertical sense with wrinkles as a result of frowning more than we should. Continuing in line, my personal and characteristic nose, as it was referred by my husband; long and straight with a worried spot on the tip of it due to the size and an excessive exposition to the sun. However, the cat eyes don’t allow you to notice such superficial aspect when you are caught by their deep and sincere look, as well as their incredible shyness. A weapon to connect (although not everybody is allowed to) with a point of weakness because they expose their feeling without barriers. Big eyes, slanting, specially when they smile, of changeable green color are embellished with long eyelashes. Above, the eyebrows, clearly outlined without being bushy and with a brown spot situated by the left one. A rosy colour normally covers the hollow cheeks, showing health and activity in the body and brain. If you have ever heard that the eyes are the window of the soul, here you don’t have an exception: you have an example. The worlds which are drawn by the well-outlined lips, full of feelings and impulsiveness will support this hypothesis. The wrinkles of my face are a way of remembering the traces of time, of all kind of moments, experiences. Lots of time for laughing but also for suffering. My face is a way to discover 41 years of innocent life.

Marta Medina

The Lock [John Constable]

I first took a glimpse of this painting on television because it was to be auctioned by a famous Spanish art collector. The Lock is an oil painting on canvas by the English artist John Constable, which he finished in 1824. It depicts a rural scene on the River Stour in Suffolk, and these are actually the more outstanding elements, nature and the English countryside. Thus, in the foreground we can observe wild plants luxuriantly growing everywhere and the water, which men attempt to subdue by means of a canal. In the middle ground we can also admire the towering figure of a huge tree and a dramatic, cloud-filled sky. Further away we can identify a meadow, nature tamed by men, and in the distance we slightly make out a town due to the outline of a few of its buildings.

The figure of man struggles to open a canal gate with all his might. Indeed, we can feel his effort because he is standing on just one foot, barely on one tiptoe, and is grabbing and pushing down the lever with all his strength. To his right, a barge is approaching carrying two men, probably going to work or coming back since we glimpse a shovel standing out of the board. On the left, almost unnoticeable we can perceive the figure of a boy and his dog, hiding and peeping at this scene, passing unnoticed to the other men. Just beside them there is a horse peacefully grazing in the meadow. This painting was made at the end of the Industrial Revolution and its author seems to be grasping to a past which is likely to fade away very rapidly, if it has not yet. I love it because you can admire the unspoilt countryside before that very period and the life people used to have. It is similarly full of power and the figures seem to nearly come alive.

After 41 years I sometimes feel that I do not quite know myself, let alone anyone else does. Indeed most people that I know would agree with this.

As for my looks, I am quite ordinary. In complexion my skin is quite tanned due to hours spent outdoors doing sport or strolling in the countryside, to which I devote a great deal of my free time. As a result, I own a strong build as well. But is there a better way to relish life and keep fit at the same time? Something that does not pass unnoticed is my nose, prominent and proud, but never looking down on anyone. Wrinkles cross my forehead after years of study and reflexion. My small dark eyes move nervously looking for the smallest detail and take shy glimpses not able to sustain someone else’s look for too long. My priorities in life are my family, my job and sport. One of the things that makes me mad is the way that people take everything for granted, that they do not question the way they live and the world around them.

In short, I am just an ordinary person trying to live an ordinary life, away from the spotlight, stress and worries, and trying to enjoy life.

Gabriel Ballesteros

This Impressionist picture attracts my attention because of the absolute presence of light, which, along with face expressions, evokes the very idea of hapinnes to me. You can even see brilliant blue instead of black shadows. In addition, every single character is the living spit of joy and happinnes, blissfully sharing a typical lunch in a restaurant called Fournaise, by the Sena river’s bank. This lunch was made lovelier by the enveloping light that A. Renoir, emphasized with the two men in white T-shirts and the white tablecloth in the foreground. Also remarkable is the light that comes from the balcony at first hand and occupies a wide stretch of the painting from the foreground to the background. Whites and light golden yellows are also present in some of the personages’ hats, blouses and shirt collars in the background. As for his style, Renoir took a keen interest in painting reality as he saw it. He uses a varied coloration with greens and blues and yellows and oranges and reds and browns and whites, which shows that he had a careful observaion of what he was seeing, which also gives certain intimicy to the picture. Not only did he like to paint the daily life of bourgeois people, but he also felt a great pleasure in painting about the joys of the bohemian kind to which he belonged. Despite the fact that in Impressionist pictures precision of forms is not very common, we can observe sharp contrasts and very well defined characters. To give an instance of this fact, we can pay attention to the girl in the foreground, Aline Charigot, who is said to be his girlfriend; the vermilion of her dress’s collar purely stands out with the brilliant white of the tablecloth. All in all, this canvas reflects the lack of concern of the Sundays in the open-air restaurants at the river’s bank, where oarsmen, workmen and girls dance and enjoy the joy of life.

The Oarsmen’s Breakfast [Auguste Renoir]

A somehow less round face than it ever was, a bit pear-shaped when looked at from the forehead down, forced by the falling of the long, golden-brown, parting hair. Intense green piercing eyes, with a bit tired but lively look, unrestlessly trying to capture all that happens around them, surrounded by powerful, long, black, curly eyelashes, under eyelids a bit swollen by the passing of the time and surrounded by thin dark eyebrows. A pale complexion disrupted by some red face blemishes, which try to come out under some concealing make -up. A medium-sized forehead that starts showing some wrinkles, more marked between the eyebrows. A snub nose with, in my perception, nostrils that are a little too big, which, together with the intense look of the eyes, gives the impression of a bit wary countenance, often hid by a not too wide mouth with well-drawn lips always ready to smile and grin, although with drooping lip corners due to the quite marked wrinkles between them and the nose.

Dolores Fernández

Las Meninas [Diego Velázquez]

Las Meninas, Velazquez’s masterpiece is not only his greatest technical achievement (along with Las Hilanderas) in the treatment of light, composition and space, but also one of the most profound reflections about the hu-man condition that Art has bequeathed to us.

In one of our C1 lessons we tried to shed light on the painting’s meaning by using a different medium: that of poetry. One of the main themes of Shakespeare’s Sonnets is the fragility of the human condition, bound by fleet-ing time. How can we trascend that evanescent quality, when we feel that our soul, our affections and ideals are vaster than time itself? Religion gives one solution: the inmortality of the spirit. Art gives another, though not contradictory: the apparent intemporality of the person who has been preserved in a poem or a paint-ing. In Sonnet 65, poetry seems too feeble a weapon; beauty, too fragile against the armies of time: O fearful meditation! where, alack,/ Shall Time’s best jewel from Time’s chest lie hid?/ Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?/ Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid? And yet it can be triumphant: O, none, unless this miracle have might,/ That in black ink my love may still shine bright.

After reading and discussing this sonnet, we started with the description of Las Meninas, or as the painting was known until the XX century, The Family of Philip IV. The students had to answer a single question: where is the

link between Shakespeare’s lines and Velazquez’s painting? The setting of the scene is well-known. In the fore-front of a large palace room, the Infanta Margarita is surrounded by part of her entourage, including her two ladies-in-attendance, the meninas. But they are not posing for the painter, because he himself appears on the left, a ready brush in his hand. A reflection in a distant mirror -that of King Philip IV and his wife- reveals the true intention of the characters. Velázquez is painting a portrait of the royal couple, while the other figures are watching. And yet, it’s not the king and queen that have been preserved, saved from time’s destruction, but the painter himself and that human group in which -and this is characteristic of Velázquez- the princess appears at the same level as the meninas and two dwarves, united beyond class and birth in a common human condition.

In the background, the figure of José Nieto, aposentador real, serves as a focal point for the whole spacial com-position, in which Velázquez managed -as it has been said- to paint air itself. This and the scintillation of light in the bodies, whose part are sometimes clearly shaped and sometimes insinuated through quick brushes of colour, are aspects of the technical miracle of Las Meninas, in which the space of the palace room seems to con-tinue outside the painting, where the viewers stand, including us in the whole. There are different theories as to the meaning and occassion of the scene, but in a way they are secondary to Art’s conceit of etermity and this inusual inclusion of the viewer. For both, I believe, are connected.

Generation after generation, person after person, a human being stands in front of Las Meninas, and, mysteri-ously, Velázquez paints him. As the dwarves are raised at the same level as the Infanta, we, common people, are raised at the same level of the king. Not only did Velázquez save himself and the others from Time’s decay, but he saves each of us, at least for a moment. For his was not common art, but a wondrous alchemy. Or so the students and me came to learn.

An oval face, which baldness makes almost round; a high forehead; ocean-green eyes, contracted through long hours of lamp-light reading; wrinkles carved by expressiveness; reflective mouth, prominent nose, noble counte-nance. What life, what love and pain and experience are revealed through those features? Is it a mask, or a lamp, expanding the soul’s rays? The mirror made of rock is too solid, too static, to tell. We need a different kind of reflec-tion: the eyes of another human being. Tell me what I am; look at me, not only with your physical vision, but with the comprehension of your heart. Lips that smiled and were pursed in disgust; lines traced by laughter and sorrow; eyes twinkling by joy or glaring in anger: penetrate beyond the surface, the ambivalence, the ebb and flow of quali-ties. Green eyes, deep and minute fountains: can you sense the tears shed in compassion, the moments transfixed in beauty, the contemplation of truth? Shimmering through this face there is a light not altered by age, mood or ex-pression: can you mirror the meaning of these signs?

Emilio Alzueta

ince brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,But sad mortality o’ersways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower?