Art LO28384

From: Barry Mallis (
Date: 05/02/02

Replying to LO28372 --

Sharon, you provided us with the wonderful child's view anecdote from the
"unknown author."

> In second grade, Mr. Barta said, "Draw anything." He didn't care what.
> I left my paper blank and when he came around to my desk, my heart beat
> like a tom-tom while he touched my head with his big hand and in a soft
> voice said, "The snowfall. How clean and white and beautiful." --Author
> Unknown
> May we all model Mr. Barta. --Sharon Werner

May I repeat again what I wrote some years ago (I think) into this group.
It concerns what I construe to be a level of application of color among
adults. The results at the time, when "viewed" within the total program,
represented a watershed in my life.

Over 25 years ago, when I was about 30, I attended Jacques LeCoq's school
of Mime and Movement in Paris. Part of our curriculum extended to the
movement of the colors of the spectrum. That is, we students from two
dozen nations came to a consensus about how each of the colors of the
spectrum would move in space. We were not objects of a given color, but
the color itself! When we worked in the studio in improvisations where we
were neutral bodies moving through an imaginary spectral space, we
demonstrated how we thought violet would accept us, move us into indigo;
how indigo would accept our neutral body, then pass us--or push us or hold
us back--while moving on to blue; and so forth.

As time went by and our consensus grew, we were able to move colors in
front of our peers in a game of 21 questions, where the class would guess
what color you were moving, and if the color was a light orange, or a dark
red, etc.

The final class project for that segment of movement work saw us divided
into teams of about eight. We were charged with studying the graphic work
of a painter whose work was available for viewing in Paris' museums, and
then presenting that painter's use of color, NON-REPRESENTATIONALLY, in at
least a ten minute work of group movement.

My team chose the oeuvre of Munch. Another chose Miro; and so on. While my
recollection to you, Dear Reader, may seem so very distant from the usual
scope of color consideration, for us students walking along Rue St. Denis
in Paris, it was revelatory in ways which, for me, settled in long after
the experience, like a fine pollen coming to rest on the seat of an
outdoor chaise.

And from there? Imagine "moving" calm (where calm is the direct object of
the verb 'to move') and then discovering how to build a house of calm
through analysis of movement. Ah me, I sigh a long, nostalgic sigh at the

Let there be light and color. You are all a rich tattoo.

With love,



Barry Mallis <>

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