Dennis Hollingsworth

Tender Hector

Hector returns to Troy to make a sacrifice to Athena for her protection... hoping against hope. In the bosom of his family, the shadow of doom hovers a lovely reunion.

Music: "Recitation of Hector's homily in the sixth book of the Iliad to a prepared piano accompaniment using reconstructed pronunciation and pitch accent. Recording of the accompaniment and the Greek poetry by Silvio Zinsstag, a teacher for ancient languages at Zabaan School for Languages, New Delhi."

Volume up.

Summer 2023

Bedtime Story Hour

I thought I'd ask ChatGPT to tell us a bedtime story...

Once upon a time, in a small house nestled deep in the woods, there lived a young artist named Dennis. Dennis was passionate about his art and spent countless hours in his studio, painting and creating beautiful masterpieces. He had a web log, a digital diary where he chronicled his artistic journey and shared his thoughts with the world.

One day, while browsing through the archives of his web log from the years 2003 to 2013, Dennis came across a series of captivating stories. These stories were not only about his art but also about his adventures and experiences in the art world.

In one story, Dennis recounted his exhilarating trip to a remote island where he found inspiration in the pristine beaches and lush vegetation. He described how the vibrant colors of the island's landscapes influenced his artwork and brought a renewed sense of creativity to his paintings.

In another story, Dennis shared his struggles and triumphs as an artist, navigating the ever-changing art market and the challenges of being a self-employed creative. He spoke about the moments of self-doubt and the joy of seeing his artwork displayed in galleries and museums.

Dennis also chronicled his encounters with fellow artists and art collectors, sharing anecdotes about their conversations and collaborations. He wrote about the profound impact that these interactions had on his artistic process and how they shaped his perspectives on art and life.

But it wasn't just about art. Dennis's web log also delved into his personal life. He shared heartwarming anecdotes about his family and friends, his travels, and his hobbies. He wrote about his love for nature, his fascination with different cultures, and his adventures in exploring new places.

One of the most memorable stories was about a serendipitous encounter Dennis had with an elderly painter during a visit to a local museum. The painter shared his life story and imparted valuable wisdom to Dennis, which left a lasting impression on him and influenced his artistic style.

As Dennis read through the archives of his web log, he was filled with a deep sense of nostalgia. He realized how much he had grown as an artist and as a person over the years, and how his web log had been a chronicle of his artistic journey and life experiences.

Eventually, Dennis's web log gained a following of fellow artists, art enthusiasts, and fans of his work. Many people were inspired by his stories and his unique perspective on art and life.

And so, Dennis's web log became a virtual gallery of his artistic evolution, a treasure trove of stories that captivated and inspired those who stumbled upon it. It became a bedtime story for aspiring artists and a source of inspiration for those seeking creative insight.

As the years went by, Dennis continued to create and share his art, and his web log remained a testament to his artistic legacy. His stories were passed down from generation to generation, cherished by art lovers and treasured as a window into the life and mind of a passionate artist.

And so, dear reader, as you close your eyes and drift off to sleep, remember Dennis's web log and the stories that unfolded within its digital pages. May they inspire you to chase your dreams, create your own stories, and find beauty in the world around you.

Goodnight.

Two segments separated by decades (twenty year anniversary coming up this spring!) to see if the AI would deliver a significant difference in content from the database. Intrigued, I continued...

JOB + Second Creation

Monadology

I've called these spiny hemispheres Monads since the beginning (1995). My knowledge of Leibniz was rudimentary, and still is in many ways to this day. The more I learn, the more I am satisfied with the nomination.

The West came to a fork in the road in the encounter of Newton and Leibniz. Descartes initiated the divorce of mind and body, Newton cemented it. Interesting, that Newton achieved this via institutional force majeure as the president of the Royal Academy, a capacity that Leibniz lacked. At this crossroad, lie two destinations, Materialism and spiritualism. Today, we are at a loss to account for the mind, much less the soul, especially since we have all but discarded G-d, Truth and all things transcendent. Now, I'm pondering the connection of Leibniz to Heidegger, another modern philosopher who pointed towards the inherent blind spot of Western Civilization. The same goes for Alfred North Whitehead. We stumble onwards, constantly stubbing our toe with constant discord, tumult, runaway technology, civil wars intra and extramural. How much better off could our world would have been if we chose to travel both paths simultaneously? We see so much better in stereo, our brains easily harmonize the hemispheres.

Then and Now

A couple of pairings to see where I was and am, now nearly thirty years spanning...

Left: "Mosquito", 1995, #1, 18" x 14"
Right: "with one eye you see the world", 2023, #627, 32" x 18-1/2"

kind of human

kind of human
2023
#628
32" x 18-1/2"
Oil and Acrylic on Canvas over Wood Panel

with one eye you see the world

with one eye you see the world
2023
#627
32" x 18-1/2"
Oil and Acrylic on Canvas over Wood Panel

Gibbous

Outside the bar on Chrystie we sat last evening, Henry and I. A cozy bar. A cigarette together. I looked up to the moon, framed by the tree line of Roosevelt Park, a very nice NYC/LES evening. A big gibbous moon, just so. For a moment, I flashed on this icon of a sight, big-moon-city-sky, once the very instance of naive art, and now so ubiquitous in the galleries. The stigma no longer applies, in the emergent generation of artists.

Heart on the sleeve.

Or is it "heart"?

All this in a flash, in a moment. So much to chew over. Then Henry says, plopping, "Looks like it lost its' hat". A big smile as always, this one with a twinkle. Henry adorned with a short exposition, impossible to recall in detail exactly. Wish I could. He sung it, almost. It was a mixed stream of how did it lose his hat and he's got to get into the shop and buy another one and how he had to buy a felt one like he had.

Boy, Mr. Moon needs his hat.

I looked down to Henry's hat, sitting on a chair. Purple felt, barely a brim, a combination of Gandalf and top hat, stovepiping up to a little dome, a red inner band tied with yellow string at its ends together with a neat bow knot.

Monadology

Back in '96, I started to paint using the nature of impasto paint as a prime driving motive force. It all happened in a moment when my palette knife lifted from a lump of paint on canvas. Immediately, a tendril formed. Marveling at the beautiful resolution of paint in tension... in space, away from the plane of illusion, I did it again and again until the surface of the hemisphere was expended. the result was a whole. It seemed elemental, the basis of a vocabulary of paint application that respected the corporeal nature of this particular variety of paint. I called it a monad, recalling what had initially attracted me then about the ideas of Leibniz, what little I knew and could comprehend at the time. Fortunately, everything I've learned about the ideas of Leibniz since then has confirmed the good fortune of identifying this approach to painting with the ideas from this unique philosopher.

Today, the YouTube algorithm has delivered this video to me. I'm quite delighted with the presentation. Succinct and to the point.

He described an aspect that surprised me, that I hadn't known before, the idea about the immateriality of monads, of the universe. Since I've invested a lot of credence to the reassertion of the materiality of media, in particular within the realm of impasto oil paint, I'm surprised by a possible connection to Conceptual Art, the idea that art can be -or is, as those pioneers would have it in the 60's and 70's- a set of instructions. As I've been informed by Leevark's presentation, the road back to the grounded reality of materiality would have to be mediated by the Supreme Monad.

That's Good News.