The Malevich that moved me the most

To start at the end – this self portrait – and what a distance from the early self portraits –  is curated for us as a final farewell as we leave the exhibition at the Tate modern.

And how apt that is – we have been on a journey of amazing depth and interest. And he has been our Virgil.

 

malevich-self-portrait-1933

As we leave he looks over our shoulder with that provocative open handed gesture, dressed in those abstract colours – such  presence – returning finally to the figurative style that he started in, left and then returned to.

It was my work, my journey – do you now believe?

I have established the semaphore of Suprematism. I have beaten the lining of the coloured sky, torn it away and in the sack that formed itself, I have put colour and knotted it. Swim! The free white sea, infinity, lies before you. (Kasimir Malevich)

Swim!

The single image that moved me the most was also from his later work, there is something so compelling and yet so child like in these later images.

Malevich-5

They are like beach huts.

In my dream the sea washes me out, brings me back again, it plays with me in a game that I do not even remotely understand – and then lifts me yet again onto the beach.

Exhausted I rise and I look at these huts. I have to chose one.

They are waiting for me to add detail, to breathe life into them – and in so doing destroy everything they stand for.

And I am not worthy – for in the act of choosing I must deny everything else, all future possibilities.

The sea breathes with me. In and out. In and out. It is so powerful. I am so tired.

I open a door.

The Team Player

Yesterday I was lucky enough to be taken to listen to David Peace in conversation with Mark Lawson. The occasion was triggered by the visit to the UK of David Peace, and by the success of the recently published ‘Red or Dead’ – a work that explores the life of Bill Shankly.

And listening to the readings last night central to that man was certainly the concept of the team – that Liverpool was a team above all else and that no individual was as important as the team – a concept we hear so much of in our business life.

watching the gesture

 

But that wasn’t actually the only reason why I was thinking about teamwork – my post is more a result of watching the performance of Mark Lawson, as he flawlessly performed the role of the perfect foil for David Peace.

This role of the support man really in my view takes a lot of talent, an ability to be quietly confident, full of opinions but not opinionated.

side-by-side

 

We see this role in much of life – certainly in sports – perhaps the best example is the tireless support given to the lead riders in the Tour de France by the ‘domestiques’. And in business – the incredible talent that work behind the scenes and in the boardrooms of some the most creative CEOs – allowing them to perform as they do.

But what fascinates me now is that I see this too in certain people and the way they live their personal lives. Normally past the nervous stages of youth they are increasingly comfortable in themselves, they quietly smile, are full of experience but still loving the process of learning what is truly important to them.

They take a joy in helping others through nervous times, they enjoy being a friend.

They have found a way to use their personal experience and talent away from the direct light of the spotlight. What a great way to be.

The most beautiful thing in my life

I so want to celebrate everything about you but sometimes, like this evening, for hours I just cry and cry – exhausting myself with the memory of you.

charlie-path-2

You led the way for me even when everything was hurting you so much.

I so want to see your eyes again, and of course I never will. I want to hear you breathe, peacefully asleep on the stone floor as if it was a soft duvet.

I want to watch you head tilt to one side, always your left, as you try to catch every word I say to you, however softly.

You loved me so unconditionally and I feel so incredibly honoured. Your name is Charlie and you changed absolutely everything about how I think about life, what is possible, what is simple and what is complex. Even now, after all this time, you are still leading me, guiding me. Thank you.

I can still feel what it was like to put my arms around you – and how you were slightly embarrassed when I did.

Nothing, no-one comes close to you.

I just want to give you such an enormous hug – and I can’t – so I just keep crying, and holding the sensation of being with you.

Black, White, Urban and Intimate

This evening I decided to look back at some images I have taken in the last year.

Within a few minutes I realised that the ones I really love share some basic aspects in common.

  • They tend to be intimate – often shot from the hip, on the move, while walking past the subject.

light

  • They are in black and white

books

  • They are Urban

couple

  • They are of people. I hesitate to call them portraits, more a kind of capture the moment.

They also seem to be reflective somehow. Pauses in conversations, or thoughtful reflection.

why

They are so often taken when traveling – I have commented before that the act of travel just seems to make me reach for a camera.

It is enlightening to see these images side by side with ones that don’t mean so much to me – and plan now to proactively build up my expertise in these kind of areas in order to create more that I really do feel satisfied with.

But I also think one of the messages for me – personally – is that it is time to live in a city again. So much of what interests me is urban.

Matisse, Guillem, Maliphant and Liberation

In the last week I have been fortunate to spend time at the Matisse cut outs at the Tate Modern, and to get a chance to see again Sylvie Guillem and Russell Maliphant in Push

Both of course are wonderful – such talent.

I was really moved by a particular Matisse – Acrobats – a work that I had never seen before. It spoke to me of so many things.

One of the many examples on show inspired by the circus, to me it spoke of a journey between two realities – the one constrained and the other free.

acrobats

Matisse Acrobats

I was thrilled to feel the same message in Push. I don’t think that these artists necessarily were thinking on these lines at all – but that is one of the reasons that abstract art and contemporary dance are so strong – you are free to connect with it in a way that makes sense for your own soul.

 

sylvie-maliphant

 

Sylvie Guillem and Maliphant in Push

So what this mean for me – am I constrained? Stifled?  Or free ?  Is it a progression over time?

I like to think that it is – and that in the last couple of years I have become far freer than ever before. But I know I have a long way to go – I am still too intense, too demanding, poor at just relaxing and enjoying the moment. At staying in the present.

The main image is from that great Christopher Bruce ballet – Swansong – that I last saw at Sadler’s wells back in 2007. At the end of that work the prisoner is finally liberated by death – and that image of him walking slowly offstage towards a distant light has stayed with me so strongly.

Each of us has some version of our own prison – some sense of how our wings are clipped. But once you see a way to free yourself… it’s just amazing – what else is there?

Fly.

What interests me?

Getting interested in something is weird – right? I mean – why does it actually happen? What gets those synapses to fire, those connections to build.. what makes us go after something – while  something else leaves us cold..?

The image for this post is from a book I am thoroughly enjoying – to give full credit immediately it is called ‘How not to be wrong – the hidden maths of everyday life’ – by Jordan Ellenberg.

The image is a page that introduces part two – but I could have picked many other images and thoughts.

So – what is it that so interests me – because this is exactly the kind of writing and playful though that  does indeed make me smile  and turn that page. It is hard to think this through objectively, but I think that for me there are some main important themes to this :

  • Learning

I love to learn – and this writing is absolutely encouraging me to be a student – if the author delivers on his promise I am certainly going to learn from reading on. I am so curious about some of these topics, and I want to learn.

  • Connections

As a generalist I have always loved drawing the connections between things, dance –  art – literature – running a business – I remember so loving ‘Godel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid’ by Douglas R Hofstadter – so many years ago now but such a wonderful example of exploring such different perspectives and the way they illuminate our existence.

This extract is promising exactly that kind of connection, of illuminating this particular idea with the light and perspective from some very different understanding.

  •  Authority

This is part two – I have been reading for a while – so I have within me a respect for Mr Ellenberg that is for me very meaningful in some deep way.

Mentors, coaches, teachers – they are all so  important to me – and they need to be the best I can find. Perhaps this above all else is what matters to me .. this quiet time on my terrace this particular evening with this particular book and a glass of wine is a chance to share time with someone that is able to communicate great ideas to me. To help me on my journey.

Thank you Mr Ellenberg – I raise my glass to you. And if you could see me do that I think you might choose to smile, and quietly nod  back at this student in the very back row of this evening’s maths class.

It can’t be Christmas every day

I was at a Tango event when one of the followers I was with got to dance with one of the best professional dancers. When she sat down someone remarked philosophically that it’s all downhill from now – she had already experienced the best.

To which she replied – “it can’t be Christmas every day”

Which was a great response actually. And like so many people I just sat and thought – why not?

But I mean – really why not?

Why can’t we live at that intensity all of the time. Why do we accept mediocrity? I don’t mean we should drive ourself to exhaustion – just do everything really well. Dance better. Relax better. Make love better. Read better. Work out better. Chill out better. Cut out mediocrity – just don’t accept it

Is it just reality getting in the way? Perhaps we plan to have the most intense and pure experiences but we get distracted by everything that life throws at us? I don’t think so. I just don’t think most people are wired to want to excel. They don’t plan for it. They aren’t sensitive to mediocrity.

Why is it so hard? Surely life would be more exciting, more fun. The reward is there – who doesn’t want the most fulfilling life possible?

Surely there is more to relaxing well than just not trying very hard to do something else properly.

I have lessons with Greg at the Tango Club, and he often says ‘Just dance better’ – or ‘dance for her – make her look beautiful’ – we laugh that for some reason he doesn’t need to say how – but it still works and we dance better – he is so right – what is important if you have any creative sensitivity is that you focus on it, you care, you project into that woman so much attention and energy that she feels completely liberated and so, so special.

Before he said ‘dance better’ we had lost that focus, we were going through the motions, not celebrating Tango for what it is so capable of being. He snaps us back to the present, requesting more energy, more precision. He asks us to make this moment the best it can be.

How rewarding is that. I should do it all the time.

So uplifted by world class contemporary dance

Last night I had the privilege to see the Nederlands Dans Theater 1 performing Sehnsucht / Schmetterling.

I just stand in so much awe of the truly creative people that can make such an evening happen.

Schmetterling ( “butterfly”) was one of the strongest works I have ever seen. It truly captured me, it got into my heart and ran me through the full spectrum of emotions from laughter to profound sadness.

But most of all it made me feel energised, passionate and involved. I left the theatre feeling so very, very alive.

Schmetterling

I was so desperate for it to keep going, to never end.

And in a way that is exactly what a performance of such greatness achieves – it is within many of us who shared that evening and so will never truly end. Ripples of thoughts reach out to so many parts of my life, changing perspectives, shining a light on such difficult subjects to talk about.

And that is one of the thoughts that has stayed with me – how dance can be so eloquent at phrasing such difficult subjects as age, death and love. The human body is capable of so much – and words are sometimes such an approximate and closed way to articulate complex ideas.

 

It’s all a Journey

So much of what I love to do is described by people I respect as a journey.

People seem to be talking about it everywhere – the growth in the business is a journey – tango is a journey. It’s all “part of the journey’ ..

Why? What does it mean?

I suppose on one level it just means change.  As you improve your understanding changes – perspectives change. What seems to be important shifts again and again.

But journeys as an analogy normally have some kind of destination in mind, some kind of finish. What I sense from the deeper subjects in life is that the journey is endless – that just when you thought you were getting somewhere you realise that you have been missing the point of the whole thing. You reach some level of competence that temporarily satisfies you then you meet someone who has gone deeper, further and you feel like a child again.

When there is no destination but  everything around you is changing the only frame of reference left to cling to is the journey itself.  Meaning shifts around me like insubstantial shadows of dancers on a wall – calling me nearer with outstretched arms only to dissolve  as I approach, as the light changes yet again. My own shadow gets in the way – it is too strong – it’s  heaviness  interferes with the spirits that beckon me on.

We are not alone in these journeys but always accompanied by a guide – a Virgil – who themselves undertake a complex role. If we do not have a guide we seek them out, the way is just too hard without them.The guides themselves are active participants in your journey and complex in themselves. They manage a difficult relationship with you, offering just enough to keep you true and not so much as to drown you. At times they might be a father figure, a coach, a harsh critic or someone who quietly smiles – reassuring you that he indeed knows the way and that such understanding might one day pass to you.

I know enough now not to ask the foolish question of where this journey is going. But who truly choses their journey – for what reason am I walking here now, how did I end up on this particular journey, with this particular Virgil?

What keeps me going – ignoring the easier paths that litter the landscape  of my mind?

Capturing Seville

For me when I travel to Seville I think of the light, the music, the dancing and the surprising street theatre that just pops up and entertains you at the most unexpected times..

Music

soap

So these are a couple of images from last week – a band having fun at lunchtime on a cafe terrace and a woman playing with soap bubbles on the Plaza de Espana.

The warm light was everywhere.

 

My new creative life