A HEART OF STONE: When something small is no small thing.

Story behind this tiny artwork is somewhat bigger than its dimensions of 8cm x 11cm. 

I know we are all far too busy these days, but if you manage to get time to read this post,
I promise you will understand why something small can have a huge value.

Dedicated artists will know that working on small pieces can be twice as hard as working on large scale works.

This is especially if realism is involved.

 It takes many years of dedication to their craft for an artist to develop the skill to work on the small scale. This is partly what the art collector is investing in when they buy a "miniature" piece.
The Japanese are renowned for their love of tiny artwork and the UK have a long history of miniatures going back centuries.
However, I am actually more well known in the art world for my for my large scale paintings/murals. See below

               

Very few actually know that I also have a love of working on a small scale pieces.
I see it as a test of my skill as well as being a way of nurturing my soul.
Working so small focusses your mind. You can not work in this way and do other things at the same time because you really have to concentrate on controlling your hand. And so you are completely in touch with yourself, and who you are. The rest of the world is forced to be shut out for a while and I think that is a healthy thing to do now and again.
    

Although I am a naturalised Norwegian, (moving to the country some 18 years ago now), my mother land is the UK. As such I grew up with miniature art as being a highly valued form of art. When I moved to Norway I spent time on doing a number of small works. Admittedly, it was to try and impress the gallery owners.
This as a huge mistake. I quickly learned that Norway had no tradition of miniature art.
Galleries just did not "get it" at all.
With one gallery owner in Oslo, I showed three of my paintings. One miniature, one a bit larger than A3 size, and one of my larger canvases. When he asked the price of them he was shocked that I had placed a high price on the miniature piece:  "Why is it so expensive when it is so small?" He asked.
I was stunned at that response!
Over the years I have gradually come to realise that art in Norway is still actually developing when it comes to art.
I dont mean that to sound as condescending as perhaps it does. You see, the Norwegian people are a rather practical- "Things" need to have a practical use. Art is not practical. Only since Norway found oil, and so has become one of the wealthiest countries in the world, has art began to be collected for the sake of its beauty or its mystery. Indeed. for the mystery why human-beings place a high value on art is the very reason why art is valuable. Art collectors in Norway have tons of money to buy art and so I get good prices for my work but getting certain gallery owners to see that it is the quality of art not the size that matters, has not been easy.
(Oh dear I am surely going to get into trouble for saying that :)

This particular miniature (below) is called: " A heart of Stone" 

It was sold last week for $1500

      

 It was a big deal for me to sell a small painting to this particular art collector because he is well known in the country as an art investor and only buys art from artists whom he consider will be a "name"  in the future.
He loves art for sure, but he also loves making money lol Such is the world of the art market :)
The fact that he bought this miniature I see as an indication that attitudes are changing in the Norwegian art world and it is a change in the right direction IMO. 

The story behind the painting

The inspiration behind this work came from my Norwegian wife. She loves stones and likes to collect them. Whenever we go for a walk along the fjord she always looks for an interesting stone to take home. Our kitchen window is full of them.  
At admit that at first I did not see what was so interesting about stones but I gradually began to understand and appreciate their beauty. How many thousands of years has it taken to make a small stone?  Stone pressing against stone, water washing over them, and the passing of time, eventually creating a shape and identity all of its own. And then there is the colour. Some of the most incredible colours and patterns can be seen on on stones.  In a way, each stone is a masterpiece of nature and earth history.
            

My work is traditional figurative but gradually an idea formed in my mind
of how to incorporate a female figure in a stone setting. 

A woman is soft, a stone is hard.
Those tow concepts seemed incompatible and that is what interested me.
I needed a model. 

One of the models I used now and then was a rather a cold person. Or at least that is how she came across to me.
She would never chat with me during break periods preferring to keep to herself.
I perceived her to having; "a heart of stone." How wrong I was. 

I am jumping ahead here.
Anyways, due to my cold opinion of this "cold hearted" model, I figured she was the perfect choice for my stone painting. Her jet black hair would go well with some of the dark sections of stones, I figured.
And so I contacted her. She agreed.
I drove to a local river that I flowed into the end of one of the fjords. Where fresh water meets salt water.
I often walked along this particular river because it was packed with all sorts so stones large, small and of all shapes and colours.

Together we walked along the river looking for an interesting location. Eventually we came across a sort of corner formed by three large boulders. It also seemed to have a natural seating area and it was right next to the water too.  After several attempts I ended up deciding on a seating position with a pose that would highlight her hands. Of which I thought were quite beautiful. We use our hands to pick up stones so I wanted hands to be part of the composition. However, hands are notoriously difficult, therefore I knew I was going to make life difficult for myself considering the small scale I was going to be working.

         

It was surely uncomfortable for her, but she did not complain once. 

However, it was the calm before the storm.
I had finished with all my sketching, and she began to get up. Suddenly he stumbled and fell over. She grabbed hold of her ankle and it was clear was now in some pain. She began crying.
I was actually a little uncertain as to what I should do. After all she was naked.
I mean, where I should put my hands to help her up?
I had brought a woollen blanket for her to sit on and so I grabbed hold of that and this around her so at least she was covered up. I helped her hobble back to the car, and and as she waited ,I ran back and got her clothes and my sketch book. I drove to the local hospital, which was about an hour´s drive away, and she was grimacing with pain the whole way. The looks I got from people in the waiting area watching me bring in a patient who was all but naked was somewhat embarrassing to say the least. One elderly lady looked at me as though I was some kind of pervert.

        

Luckily we did not have to wait long and she was treated quite quickly.
It turned out she had a broken ankle. When I saw her come with a walking stick and her foot in plaster I felt absolutely terrible. I had not even considered that  the location I had taken her might possibly cause an accident.
I was very apologetic and she was very understanding.
It was then I began to see how wrong I had been about her being a cold person.

Later in the hospital cafe she told me that she had broken up with her long term boyfriend and was having difficulty coming to terms with it. Even after year.
Apparently they had been "boyfriend and girlfriend", as she put it, ever since they were in school. They had been lovers for about 8 years and had plans to marry. Childhood sweethearts I think they call it.
Then, one night, after returning home from work early, she found "her man" in bed with her so called "best friend".
A friend whom she had also known since school.
As you can imagine, it left her devastated.
She cried several times in that cafe while telling me this sad tale and it was rather moving to listen too.
She took hold of my hands....gosh, those beautiful hands of hers...and she actually apologised;
"I´m sorry if I came across a bit cold Arthur." She said.
This only made me feel even more guilty :(
At that moment the artist in me saw a kind of beauty in her sadness and right there and then I decided to try and capture this in the final painting. I know this was rather naughty of me, but such moments can be irresistible to an artist. I hope yo can forgive me for that :(  

So you see I was wrong. So very wrong. 

She did not have a "heart of stone" at all, but a heart that was broken.
It was her ex-lover who was the one who had the heart of stone.
When I hear of such betrayals by men it makes me feel ashamed to be a man :(

    

I drove her home and told her to "take care" and that I would "be in touch".
However, as it turned out, that was the last time I ever worked and saw this model (I will not disclose her name of for obvious reasons).
But then, out of the blue, just last christmas, I received a card with a letter inside. There were also a couple of photographs too. It seems she had met someone and had fallen in love and the photographs were of them together.
Her new love of her life was a male nurse who worked with handicapped children. She looked so different that at first that I hardly recognised her. Gone was the sadness in her eyes and the frown on her face. Instead there was light in those bright blue eyes - which of course will never be seen in my painting. Her melancholic expression had transformed into a wide smile that was filled with sunshine. It was clear she was deeply happy.
She told that she had decided to give up modelling and had gone back to college to study geology, which I think is the study of stones, isn't it? I was of course happy for her and wrote back wishing her all the best for the future.

The whole affair was quite of a big learning experience for me.
I learned not to jump to conclusions about someones character.
That, just because someone might appear to have a "heart of stone", it does not mean that they have. 

Occasionally I go walking along that river bank, and when I come to that place, the place where her ankle was broken and her broken heart was revealed, and I smile to myself, happy to now know the final outcome was a happy one.

So you see, for me, this tiny little painting has a rather big meaning.


Small things in life can have a huge value because they contain enormous truth. 

 

  What I write is merely my own thoughts from my own life experience.
Thank you for taking the time to read my blog and a warm welcome back in advance.