It has taken 500 years for this day to arrive.

     The lighting is soft and specific, small spots trained on what is most important.  It is quiet, almost reverential, not quite like a church, but akin to a lecture hall featuring a respected speaker.  The drawings on the walls are over 500 years old, drawn by undisputed masters, famous beyond all measurements of fame or celebrity.

    500 years ago they did what I do daily.  They lived more fully with the power of a pencil.  The white mats on dark blue walls make the artwork nearly invisible from across the room.  Up close, the values, the lines, and even the paper seem to live and breathe.  DaVinci, I remind myself.  Michelangelo, I almost say aloud.  I am struck by the accessibility.  I relate to the work on a deep and personal level and I am surprised.  These are small works, sketchbook drawings with flaws and perfections.  These are studies, small steps toward some major work or idea, but in their simplicity, they are magnificent. 

     

The idea of this exhibit its focused on contrasting beauty, but it is

also filled with contrasts of line, value , time, and abstractions and in all of these ideas, this collection of drawings inspires me.  I see a bridge to cross.  I want my pencils and my paper and more time.  I wish I could buy time, or maybe trade for it.   I want to feel the pull of graphite across a sheet of paper and never stop.  

      For me Art has always been a process, the object on the wall, a recording of that process.  Looking at the objects on these walls, I am inspired to further my own process and make more objects to hang on more walls.  I find myself wanting to touch these drawings to feel the texture of the paper, to smell the passing of time absorbed between then and now, oh and of course to sit in a lecture hall and listen to these men speak.