When I was in London a few weeks ago, I made a point to head over to the Tate Modern Museum for the Henri Matisse exhibit which was showcasing his work called “The Cut-Outs”.
Simply put they were cut-outs of different colored paper, pasted and pinned on a larger canvas, framed and displayed in a grandiose way.
For museum patrons, the exhibit showcased the delicate and thoughtful way Matisse snipped away at color, using scissors which so elegantly weaved shapes into what one would see as a simple sheet of paper, placed intricately on a larger canvas to convey a message via his artistic storytelling.
It truly is beautiful and his show is currently on display at the MoMA. I highly recommend it, if not for the nostalgia that overwhelms you when you first lay eyes on his art — it’s a time traveling experience back to elementary schools days when our minds were free to wander, to dream and to create whatever we deemed beautiful…free of judgement, free of critique — but for the important detail that most patrons seem to miss.
The pencil markings. Only seen if one gets very close to the canvas, the very blueprint, sketches, lines and mistakes that he never felt he should erase are what allow for the piece to be built layer by layer. Without them there would be no finished piece. They were never erased. Matisse openly displays his imperfections.
I repeat: MATISSE! openly displays his imperfections!
A venerated artist whom people spend money and time analyzing and admiring openly displays his imperfections and here I am — just a girl named Alyonka — afraid to make a single mistake, afraid to seem un-put together, unprofessional, unpolished, unprepared, imperfect, and heaven forbid if one single flaw is displayed in my work, I work twice as hard to fix it.
Exhausting, the fixing part that is…
Hmm. Something to think about. The imperfections are what makes art what it is. They are the truths of who we are.
So here’s a reminder to myself to embrace those imperfections — the pencil markings of who I am — and to never hide behind a false facade.
Email me when Alyonka Larionov publishes or recommends stories