A First Impression of the Joseph Delaney Exhibit at the KMA

Thursday night I attended a reception for the new Joseph Delaney exhibit at the Knoxville Museum of Art.  Joseph Delaney was a Knoxville native, the younger brother of Beauford Delaney, the better known of the two painters.  He painted in New York at the time of the Harlem Renaissance.

When I walked into the first room of the exhibit, I was immediately struck by this wall of drawings, charcoals, various works on paper, all in blacks and grays.  The works here span the artists lifetime and the sense of presence, characters and vision are strong.   But I didn't really get back to that wall to study anything in greater detail that evening.  There were too many people milling about, too much noise, and although I had a fabulous time, I could really only absorb about two or three pieces.  Oh, who am I kidding?  I can usually only absorb about 3 pieces in any trip to a museum or gallery, no matter the circumstances.

I want to write about my initial impressions that night, my first impressions.  the black and white wall (although not really so white) shaped the atmosphere of the room, and most of the works in this gallery were more somber in colors.   There was so much to see, but a couple of pieces really stuck in my head and heart, and those are the pieces I will show here.  I really didn't get beyond them in the exhibit, and I will have to go back.  I also didn't read any of the little plaques describing the pieces, and I know little about the artist himself.  This is typical for me.  I always want to look first, to open my own relationship to the work, then go back, and continue the discussion with whatever curatorial notes I find posted.  I suppose this is my form of disavowal:  these are my impressions, uninformed perhaps, but heartfelt.  Two of these works were discussed at the reception, and I was both gratified that two of my favorite pieces were chosen, but I was also distracted and tuned out part of the talk, possibly to my detriment, as I probably would have learned a lot.

The first work that caught my attention was this piece, and no, I did not take a picture of the plaque and I do not remember what it was called.  What struck me immediately is this powerful sense of combined movement and stasis, as if held in balance.  I liked the way Delaney plays with perspective.  It felt like he was messing with my mind a little; it seemed like there was an obvious sense of distance, but also another layer of perspective that turned it all on its head. What you see, and the perspective of the piece shifts as you move, depending on the angle at which you look at the work.  Near and Far; or is it Far and Near? Or does it even matter?  One gets the sense it is the power of motion itself that matters, as if that combination of motion and place creates its own vitality.  Notice the ship moving out to sea, toward the Statue of Liberty in the harbor.  You can see the island on which she stands, but the colors of the land are echoed in the water, blurring the distinctions.  She is both a statue, and a guiding angel.  The sense of place is palpable, as is the multilayered sense of movement, as if the two cannot be separated, either in space, or, in another sense, in time.

A friend commented on the portraits, and I turned to look.  I admit I am not good at portraits, at describing what I see, for the most part they always seem to subtle, flat even, but not this one.  I was drawn in by this portrait, titled Romaine, struck by the vibrancy of the personality that was captured.  It is full of life, the painting itself seems to shimmer with life, as if the subject could burst through the canvas at any moment.

And then there was this New York scene.  This painting shone like a beacon in the gallery.  It was by far the lightest work in the room, and that sense of bouyancy was palpable.  You get a sense of the grandeur of the city, but also of light and joy. not the almost dark energy of the first painting I posted.  And yet, there is something more than the grand ideas, and the idealized skyline,  The figures in the bottom of the painting seem almost too dark, related more to the other works in the gallery than to the light-filled upper reaches of this painting. It is as if the painting is saying something about ideas and aspirations as contrasted with the realities of life.

Notice these figures in the lower left corner of the painting. There is the lightness of the family pulling their groceries, almost a joyous embrace of the present moment.  Notice how the mother and child are bright, glowing, even, whereas the man is turning away from them and is beginning to fade. There are other people, children and adults of mixed races and backgrounds, some seem fully present, others almost like ghosts and remnants of the cities complex histories.  This seems especially poignant in the image of a jewish man walking toward the viewer, with what appear to me to be ghosts of ghettos past hovering behind him, who seems almost partially faded. Even he seems somewhat tenuous, fully there, and yet linked to some disappearing past.  

Next lets look at the figures in the center, all blurred together in motion, a mix of outline and color as if the present and history are all superimposed upon each other in the sense of a place, in the lives of its residence.  I love Delaney's figures, the way they capture motion and life, and also a sense of historic timelessness.  I also can't let go of the idea that the man directing the traffic, a policeman probably (?) reminds me as much of images of Greek satyrs as he does a man.  

I will have to go back to the exhibit and look at all the things I have not absorbed.  I will have to go back and look at these works again, and probably read all the available information, trying to see what I have missed, to further understand what I may or may not have misconstrued.  There is so much I missed that first visit to the galleries, so many fleeting glimpses floating through my thoughts awaiting further exploration.