“I found myself moving through the gallery space to stand back and admire these large exhibits in one glance, then I would get closer, to inspect details, then I’d step back again. I likened my physical response to Kiefer’s pieces to that of sculpture—I dance in their company.”
Thank you for this really beautiful thoughtful piece, Yasmin. Thank you for taking me back to the memory of an exhibition in Berlin and my physical as well as my emotional response to Kiefer’s work.
Yasmin, this was such a gorgeous meditation on influence, style, and that lifelong tug-of-war between learning from the greats and trying to sound like ourselves. I’m Kelly — a slow-travel writer wandering the world with my husband — and so much of this resonated with me.
I loved how you framed Kiefer’s pilgrimage and Van Gogh’s letters as parallel diaries of becoming. That “invisible iron wall” quote stopped me in my tracks. It feels like the truest description of the creative process I’ve ever read — the slow, patient burrowing toward something that finally feels like yours.
And maybe that’s the secret: the voice isn’t a destination, it’s the trail we wear into the ground over years of trying.
Thank you for such a beautifully crafted piece. It stayed with me. 💛 Kelly
Of course I love this as much as I thought I would. If I think of Turner, then his artistic style changed over time, but I think his voice was true to him. He wanted to paint what he felt. It was the expression that changed. Interestingly, when he started out The Academy controlled what was valued in the visual arts & Turner wanted to ‘achieve in painting what a poet does in words.’ They once had greater freedom of expression.
As to my voice? I think when I stay closer to what matters to me then I’m truer to it. I think when you/me/we stray into writing for someone else or worrying about someone else then we lose that authenticity. I think that’s what ‘voice’ is to me, my authenticity.
It's reassuring to learn more from the 'greats', whether painters or writers, because we all start with desire and only develop skill and confidence with experience. But the fact we still love the work of artists like Van Gogh and Turner is quite astonishing really. What constitutes this longevity I wonder.
Yasmin, I appreciate this essay. The thoughts about how art translates and moves through time, evolves to become one's own form of practice. It has me pausing - the similarities and dissimilarity with other writers, links of effort. How we are constantly learning from others.
I often sit for long periods in front of any work by Mark Rothko or Georgia O’Keefe, my two greatest inspirations. I just sit with the work to absorb as much information from it as possible. I am so moved by both of these Abstract artists. And it’s interesting how I can sit in front of the same painting, but have a viscerally different reaction to it depending on what is going on in my life or around me. So, the work just keeps on giving. That is what I hope for most is to make art that keeps on giving to someone many years later. And yes, I agree, we cannot force finding our voice, nor can we force how others will experience our work, be it visual or written work. So creating from the heart and continuing the practice of making is all there is IMHo.
Thank you for your insight, Amanda. As an artist yourself, I'm intrigued by your favourites, especially Rothko. The popularity of his work puzzles me, yet I can stand in front of it and be mesmerised. I know, I'm expressing contradictory thoughts. But that's what I love about art and literature... there's more than one way of looking and thinking about it.
Rothko had this entire theory that really spoke to me, Rothko Color Theory supposed that you could move a viewer emotionally through art that was only made of large color blocks. Employing one or two colors, he can make so much emotional resonance with a canvas it’s just astounding to me. It’s all about subtle shifts in the colors that make the eyes move a certain way to evoke emotion.
He also thought art viewing should be treated as a more sacred act than simply viewing it while eating dinner or even in an overfill gallery of multiple people. So, he convinced his biggest donors to help him create The Rothko Chapel in Houston Texas where you walk into a literal chapel that has a whole series of color field paintings for people to sit and pray or meditate. It’s fabulous. I could teach a class on this man. lol. Don’t get me started.
I hadn't known about Kiefer and his art in conversation to Van Gogh's. Kiefer's "Starry Night" is entirely original yet leaves the viewer with the same sense of awe as Van Gogh's. Amazing.
A great piece featuring two of my favourite artists. Van Gogh’s letters are an extraordinary record of a life frustrated by lack of funds and recognition.
“I found myself moving through the gallery space to stand back and admire these large exhibits in one glance, then I would get closer, to inspect details, then I’d step back again. I likened my physical response to Kiefer’s pieces to that of sculpture—I dance in their company.”
Thank you for this really beautiful thoughtful piece, Yasmin. Thank you for taking me back to the memory of an exhibition in Berlin and my physical as well as my emotional response to Kiefer’s work.
I’m pleased that you enjoyed this post, Bee. I’d love to know more about your time in Berlin.
Yasmin, this was such a gorgeous meditation on influence, style, and that lifelong tug-of-war between learning from the greats and trying to sound like ourselves. I’m Kelly — a slow-travel writer wandering the world with my husband — and so much of this resonated with me.
I loved how you framed Kiefer’s pilgrimage and Van Gogh’s letters as parallel diaries of becoming. That “invisible iron wall” quote stopped me in my tracks. It feels like the truest description of the creative process I’ve ever read — the slow, patient burrowing toward something that finally feels like yours.
And maybe that’s the secret: the voice isn’t a destination, it’s the trail we wear into the ground over years of trying.
Thank you for such a beautifully crafted piece. It stayed with me. 💛 Kelly
Kelly, your words touch me deeply. I'm so pleased this post resonated with you and grateful that you took the time to respond here in the comments.
Of course I love this as much as I thought I would. If I think of Turner, then his artistic style changed over time, but I think his voice was true to him. He wanted to paint what he felt. It was the expression that changed. Interestingly, when he started out The Academy controlled what was valued in the visual arts & Turner wanted to ‘achieve in painting what a poet does in words.’ They once had greater freedom of expression.
As to my voice? I think when I stay closer to what matters to me then I’m truer to it. I think when you/me/we stray into writing for someone else or worrying about someone else then we lose that authenticity. I think that’s what ‘voice’ is to me, my authenticity.
It's reassuring to learn more from the 'greats', whether painters or writers, because we all start with desire and only develop skill and confidence with experience. But the fact we still love the work of artists like Van Gogh and Turner is quite astonishing really. What constitutes this longevity I wonder.
I love that idea: “And maybe that’s the secret: the voice isn’t a destination, it’s the trail we wear into the ground over years of trying.”
Yes!
Yasmin, I appreciate this essay. The thoughts about how art translates and moves through time, evolves to become one's own form of practice. It has me pausing - the similarities and dissimilarity with other writers, links of effort. How we are constantly learning from others.
Yes, absolutely, Stacy! We never know what or who will influence our work in the future.
Being open to inspiration and to learning from others and their craft makes each of us a better writer.
I often sit for long periods in front of any work by Mark Rothko or Georgia O’Keefe, my two greatest inspirations. I just sit with the work to absorb as much information from it as possible. I am so moved by both of these Abstract artists. And it’s interesting how I can sit in front of the same painting, but have a viscerally different reaction to it depending on what is going on in my life or around me. So, the work just keeps on giving. That is what I hope for most is to make art that keeps on giving to someone many years later. And yes, I agree, we cannot force finding our voice, nor can we force how others will experience our work, be it visual or written work. So creating from the heart and continuing the practice of making is all there is IMHo.
Thank you for your insight, Amanda. As an artist yourself, I'm intrigued by your favourites, especially Rothko. The popularity of his work puzzles me, yet I can stand in front of it and be mesmerised. I know, I'm expressing contradictory thoughts. But that's what I love about art and literature... there's more than one way of looking and thinking about it.
Rothko had this entire theory that really spoke to me, Rothko Color Theory supposed that you could move a viewer emotionally through art that was only made of large color blocks. Employing one or two colors, he can make so much emotional resonance with a canvas it’s just astounding to me. It’s all about subtle shifts in the colors that make the eyes move a certain way to evoke emotion.
He also thought art viewing should be treated as a more sacred act than simply viewing it while eating dinner or even in an overfill gallery of multiple people. So, he convinced his biggest donors to help him create The Rothko Chapel in Houston Texas where you walk into a literal chapel that has a whole series of color field paintings for people to sit and pray or meditate. It’s fabulous. I could teach a class on this man. lol. Don’t get me started.
Well, you should certainly write about him on your Substack, Amanda! I love the idea of the chapel for meditation.
Like you Yasmin I don’t know if I have found my voice or what it is. But I suspect not and feel it is a work in progress.
Always I think.
I hadn't known about Kiefer and his art in conversation to Van Gogh's. Kiefer's "Starry Night" is entirely original yet leaves the viewer with the same sense of awe as Van Gogh's. Amazing.
Yes, the awe is there isn't it? Kiefer has done some very large paintings of sunflowers as well. So reminiscent of Van Gogh yet totally different.
A great piece featuring two of my favourite artists. Van Gogh’s letters are an extraordinary record of a life frustrated by lack of funds and recognition.
Thank you Valerie. I appreciate your comment, and I agree, the letters are extraordinary.
And thanks for your restack.