Friday, March 27, 2020
Fooling around early one morning I came across a HOG and, maybe it was
because I’m looking for a way to reach back to my former students, it looked
different than when I made it. In this hidden object game, I furnished a
picture of the restored studio in the Rembrandt museum.
I’d looked at this picture dozens of times, but today it looked different
because of the floor. It’s a tiled floor which was tiled with blue-glazed
ceramics. The glaze was worn off in places, revealing red, low-fire clay the tiles
were made of.
http://www.printmakingworld.com/emeralda/pp/ppprod/pp_games/RembrandtsHOG/RH_index.html
In the years since I made this image and set hotspots where the hidden objects
were, the tiles – not the objects printmakers used that are listed at the
bottom of the image - mean more because I wrote a novel years after I made the
HOG.
The novel, “Rembrandt’s ghost in the new machine,” I self-published it in
2013 using amazon’s Kindle system. In my novel, those tiles figured in the
plotline because Rembrandt put his thoughts on paper, but since his thoughts
were risky, he hid them under the tiles.
The floor was full of Rembrandt’s secrets! His dread was that someone would
find his notes and he’d be crucified for them. In my story, retrieving the
secrets became a driving motive, and my protagonist, Mac, is drafted to help
get them out of the room that had been his studio.
Much in my novel has historic bases – how he lost his house and studio in
bankruptcy (including his press), the people he associated with, his family and
what he was likely doing in 1660 when my time-traveler encountered him. No one
knows if Rembrandt wrote anything.
This month I started a rewrite on the advice of an editor I hired a few
years ago – John Belmont. In this rewrite a “Rembrandt’s secrets” theme beats
the ghost theme. Now, secrets are more interesting.
On this day, the gift of Rembrandt is overtaking his “secrets.” The gift,
to me, is what we infer from Rembrandt’s life. He was not on a quest of the
kind which colors heroes’ lives. Most likely, he likely just wanted to make
art, and he had a gift for it. We might say that by making his paintings and
prints he created gifts, but gift-giving was not on his intent.
It was not meant as an offering. It was his business. I don’t think Stephen
Spielberg was thinking of making a gift to society when he went to work – he had
a passion for storytelling through film and making a living at it. Like Rembrandt,
I bet.
Today, we’re at crossroads because the coronavirus pandemic is upon us. No one
is sure that life on Earth for humans will look like weeks or years from today.
As for me, I’m glad I made the HOG, glad I wrote the novel, glad I met –
through my experience writing and promoting it – people like Ernest Horvers and
Peter van Honk.
These Dutch men taught me things like Rembrandt taught me. Not as gifts - not
that teaching me was their intent. In my mind meeting with them gave me ideas
and took on lives of their own in my imagination. I kept thinking up new ideas
about printmaking and how printmaking might be useful for teaching people –
young and old.
STEM-based education, for example, for kids. By adding Art to the mix
(STEAM), maybe printmaking is more important to Science, Technology,
Engineering and Math than art teachers realized.
This is not new. Decades ago, when I was a professor at the UW, there were attempts
to cross-fertilize art and science. The pressures of the art world always transcended
those rare efforts. An artist who took up computer graphics, for example, would
likely to end up working for a game company and become a famous artist. A
gallery that showing art heavy with technology was unlikely to thrive on this
genre.
Today, as I reviewed my old HOG, and glad to see it again, I looked at the
floor in the image and imagined what we’d find if my story were true – that those
tiles had, the originals in their day, covered Rembrandt’s secrets, his gifts.
This image itself is a gift to me. How can I share it? One way is to back
to that image and make a hotspot on each tile. Click on the hotspot, would a
secret pop up? A scientist, for example, what would he or she make of that?
Imagining this, is Rembrandt’s secret gift.
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