What is it, that’s so immensely moving and satisfying about seeing a rainbow? Or indeed
about watching a rose grow from a tiny cutting to a mature plant and from bud
to flower to fruit ,throughout the seasons? Never mind, where we are in the world, -
when the conditions are right, and light meets darkness in a certain way, there it is:
the seven colours of the rainbow appear as if out of nowhere, each in their own right,
yet at the same time merging, one into the other, and forming a wholeness out of the
seven. And that is, whether the bow is only faintly visible for an instant, or shining
strongly in full splendour for half an hour. It is having been in the presence of something
self-evident and complete, that leaves us with a feeling of awe and wonder and
peace.
It is this selfsame feeling of awe and wonder and peace that arises for me, when
standing in front of Helen Comerford’s seven paintings which are shown in this exhibition.
Of course, they each are unique and complete in their own right,- each a miracle,
with its clarity of one distinct gesture as well as with the aliveness and lightness
the artist has perfected in using in a new way the ancient technique of Encaustic.
And yet there is still something more that can happen, when one allows oneself
to be led on the definite path from the first to the second to the third of the
paintings, right through to the seventh and last. Then a kind of completeness and
wholeness arises within the soul of the viewer, that can perhaps be compared with
watching the appearance of a rainbow, or else with a seed one has sown, that took
root, sprouted and grew strong, formed leaves and buds, then opened its flower’s
colourful petals and released its fragrance, and that finally ripened into fruit and new
seed. Yes, each stage in itself is a wonderful revelation in space of something previously
hidden,- but only when the dimension of time is added to that and all the stages
are experienced in sequence, then the inner evidence of a process reveals itself.
And whereas spending only a moment in front of one of the stages may give you a
strong experience,- it will probably fade when you’re no longer in the presence of
what you have seen. But once you have witnessed how one stage merges into the next,
when you have followed the path life itself has chosen and will choose again and again,
when you have indeed moved yourself from one stage to the next,- well, then at the
end you are left not with a transient impression, but with an inner experience of life,
that no one and no outer event can take away from your soul, ever again.
This is, I believe, what makes Helen’s artistic exploration of the seven stages of
earth-evolution so infinitely moving, awe-inspiring and refreshing: They are, if you let
them, an initiation into the truth of one of the most potent processes of life, a path,
that while you walk it, can - because of its inherent truth - inspire, transform and
heal, and thus leave you with the inner peace of a journey completed, of a secret uncovered,
and of a mastery acquired. The gestures of the sevenfold path will now stay
available within yourself, serving you well when you strive for a meaningful perception
of the world, because you will find the sequence repeated in manifold variations everywhere
around you in your life, recognizing them almost like a kind of blueprint of
growth. But they will also serve for purposeful action, for building the future, - for if
you know where you are, let us say, in the sevenfold processes of your biography, you
will much better be able to decide where you need to go next.
What then are these seven archetypal gestures or stages of life?
1. The first is like what your hands will instinctively do whenever you take a piece of
clay: they will form a globe. If you imagine an early beginning of creation where there
was not yet matter as we know it today, you could still imagine divine hands, lovingly
encompassing a sphere, and the only distinction then between what is outside that
sphere and what is within, would be the difference in temperature. It would be
slightly warmer within, and slightly colder without. Just the faintest hint of a skin
forming around a beginning world might suggest itself. And while that happens, because
an “inside” is coming about, there is then a first response from the globe’s centre:
something wants to become, wants to respond to the breath of life just received.
The fine differentiation of structure within the indigo seems to speak of the forming
of a new substance.
2. The second step in the process of modelling in clay would be the working through
of the whole piece you hold in your hands, so as to prepare it for any shape you may
want to give it later. By kneading it, infusing it with your energy, it can come alive.
Thus with the world’s becoming: The warm indigo of the first stage receives rays of
light and energy in the second, and thus brightens up and turns to magenta. A radiant,
pulsating energy works and re-works the whole. And within this shimmering energy, in
a way, all possibilities of life are present at once. Standing in front of this picture is
a bit like touching the source and rythm of life itself.
3. The third phase of life’s development can once more be studied when we still stay
with our lump of clay: now warm and pliant, we might explore giving it form: an inside
and an outside perhaps, a top and a bottom, maybe arms and legs and a face. The minute
we get near to that, it usually takes on a will of its own. Soul-moods seem to
want to express themselves, and whilst we are at it, they may wander from one extreme
to the other. It’s a bit like watching clouds on a summer-sky: one moment a cauliflower,
then a whale, the next a bird, moving on into a hero and - disappearing again.
Or like observing the flow-forms of water. At this, the third stage, the pulsating
energy of the second stage seems to penetrate more deeply into the substance of
the first, moulding it and allowing soul to enter: the indigo and magenta reach a kind
of calm balance in the violet.
4. With the next step we come to the centre-piece of the sequence. The clay has
been warmed and worked through, different shapes have been explored. Now it is
time for the artist to decide on the distinct idea he or she wants to express in the
sculpture-to-be. Choices must be made, so that the best way is found for a spark of
the spirit to incarnate in the world of matter. No different in the process of the
world’s becoming: now beings are coming about, distinct, and each of them revealing
one unique way of life on earth. And it is earth-colour that meets us in the fourth
painting, a red ochre, now overlaying the indigo, magenta and violet. Standing in front
of this painting gives us the feeling that something has arrived, has come into its own.
There is an incredible harmony of both, colour and form. Substance and growth, emotion
and unique spirit-being have united and the process of incarnation is complete.
And we have obviously reached a turning-point.
5. What follows, when a work of art has been finished? It will be exhibited, so it can
be seen. And there, in the eye of the beholder, it continues its journey! Whereas before
it has been busy, through the artit’s help, to become itself, - now, that it is there,
it shines out for the world. It becomes a messenger, passing on the inspiration
that has been at work through the stages before. The artist steps back, and in a way,
so does the substance. For although we are certainly most happy to really stand in
the presence of a work of art,- there are more ways for it to reach out and touch people’s
imagination, especially in our time of photography and multiplication through
print and media. What an exciting step on the way! And that excitement of being allowed
to shine out, expresses itself most adequately in the bright orange of this
painting, which, by the way, is only possible, because the indigo that has been underlying
each painting from the first until now, has stepped back and given way to the
brightness.
6. It will probably be at this sixth stage, that the recognition may hit us, that what
the pictures stir up in us, and the truth of the path they convey and invite us to walk,
can indeed become relevant for our lives. Let me put it like this: Isn’t the so-called
midlife-crisis exactly the point in human biography where we come to a turning-point,
often not knowing what it is all about, but feeling challenged to stop just asking:
What does the world have to give to me? and beginning to wonder instead: What do I
have to give to the world? Well, once that question has been accepted and answered,
our lives can indeed take on a completely new quality. Taking can gradually transform
itself into giving. Self-centredness can become world-service. And the way we live
then, and communicate with our fellow-human beings and with the world, will have, I
believe, something of what the sixth painting of Helen’s reveals: a loving presence,
like that of a flower just opened, utterly sure of itself, not stressed by the reaction
of the world, full of the joy of living and giving its own unique truth. What has been
radiance at stage 5, is now, nearly tangible in the colour of copper-oxyde, so alive,
that it almost becomes free of the canvas. It doesn’t only want to inspire us, but accompany
us and become part of us.
7. What is left? A sculpture has been formed and has made its way into the world. It
has radiated its message and transformed human lives. Its substance has been used
up, its energy passed on, its intention achieved. Or: a world has formed and transformed
itself and what was possible in it, has been learned and perfected by the beings
whom it has served. Or else: a human biography has been completed, a child become
youth, then young adult, took in all that the world had to offer, then went through
the turning point and learned to give, to trust in the wisdom of life and be part of it,
finally aged in the gladness of having done what one came for... Well, one way of putting
it, would be saying: it is time to die, to go home. Another way might be to say:
living and giving is now celebrating a perfect communion with the universe. A third
way may be to remind oneself of the seed and say: the moment has come for a new
beginning. And that is when all colour dissolves into white light, and all form is whirling
in a spiral out from the centre of the old towards the womb of a new world.
Well, dear visitor of this exhibition, if you have been with me on the path until now,
thank you for sharing what Helen’s work inspired me to share!
And there is of course so much more to discover... Imagine you would carry the mood
of the first picture into your quiet Saturdays, enter the Sunday with the sun-energy
of the second, and so on through the week! Or, if you are so inclined, take out your
Bible and re-read in Genesis the seven days of Creation! Then go to the Book of Revelation
and find out about seven letters, and seals and trumpets... Or you might notice
as another example that painting number 4, the centre-piece, can be seen as the
point around which number 1 and 7 are mirroring something of each other, as of course,
beginning and end often do. And likewise, painting number 2 and 6 are speeking to
each other, and number 3 and 5.
But I won’t continue, I just wanted to give you a taste. You will see what is there for
you to see, and it may well be something completely different!
Let me finish then with expressing once more the absolute wonder with which I not
only stand in front of these paintings which have for me become a pilgrimage at the
hand of life itself, but also before the fact, that three times seven years have been
spent by the artist in exploring the secret of the seven stages. What 21 years ago, at
the end of the 20th century, had started as “planetary boxes”, first smaller, then
larger “treasure chests” which on opening would each give a glimpse of one of the seven
planetary qualities, has now, after the new millenium is well on its way, been revealed
in magnificent clarity as the seven archetypal gestures of human life and of
earth-evolution. Thank you, Helen, - your paintings are master-pieces not only, but
messengers who, in a time full of turmoil and changes, confirm that we can trust, if
not in outer things and structures, so still and perhaps ever more in the wisdom and
the process of life itself!
Burnchurch, January 2012