In the Realm of All Possibilities

Caroline Woodruff  missmagnolia88@gmail.com (470) 621- 4218

In the Realm of All Possibilities

A few years ago, at the start of my tenure as assistant to the curators in a museum of Spanish art in New York City, I was thrilled when the chief curator encouraged me to spend time in the galleries acquainting myself with the painters and other artists in the collection. And so, one evening after an opening exhibition of the paintings from the Golden Age of Spain, I excitedly went upstairs to look at the paintings that lined the walls around the terracotta balcony that overlooked the terracotta courtyard in the museum. All the bigshots were there: Francisco Goya, El Greco, and Diego Velázquez, along with their slightly lesser-known countrymen, Murillo, Ribera, and Zurbaran. I remembered some of these painters from art history classes in high school, but my acquaintance with them had been brief and not at all intimate. Walking among these masters of painting, I was touched by El Greco’s talent for lovingly evoking piety in his paintings of saints. And I was amused by Goya’s ability to express irony in his political portrayals of royal figures. Psychological drama aside, however, as an artist I was impressed by the fluidity of Velázquez’s brush strokes and his use of built-up white paint to catch the light. His portrait of Cardinal Pamphili in the collection really caught my eye. I stepped in for a closer look. The Cardinal’s presence seemed to breathe. I sensed that this was more than a likeness. The spontaneity and energy of those brush strokes suggested that the cardinal was in a state of becoming. There was a tension in this two-dimensional artifice between being and seeming to be. I found myself merging with this image rather than only looking at the image. And because it was nighttime in the museum, this felt a little bit spooky.

This painting of the Cardinal by Velazquez drew me into an illusionistic space. I had been invited by the Cardinal to participate in their 17th-century world. Velazquez’ limited color palette: lake red, white, black, and ochre attested to the skill of the painter. The buildup of white paint on the cardinal’s collar broke the picture plane for me. This was the moment when the painting sprung into life. The Cardinal in the painting had acquired a life of its own!

But as I stepped toward another of his works, within myself I could hear the Cardinal calling to me in 20th century vernacular, Hold up, homegirl! There is someone here I want you to meet! How could I resist the Cardinal? Accepting this otherworldly invitation, I walked back over to the painting, looked very closely, and Maestro Diego offered his hand to me across the ages. And as the artist Peter Paul Rubens famously exclaimed when encountering Velázquez’ paintings for the first time, “Verdad! No pintura!” (Truth! Not painting!) The Cardinal is indeed a living entity! Perhaps there are secret societies, invisible networks of gods and bodhisattvas and angels and heavens and Pure Lands. Maybe there is an esoteric brotherhood and sisterhood for whom barriers of time and space have no meaning. But with our imaginations, I believe and know through personal experience, we can tap into a communion with any person, place, or thing we resonate with. And I continue to this day to resonate with this artist, as well as feeling affection for his painting of Cardinal Pamphili and its impact on my deeper understanding of the profound purposes and possibilities of living art.

“Wait just a minute,” a feminine voice called to me across the gallery. “Yes, I agree that Don Diego is the grand master of Spanish painting, but you’re forgetting another great master of Spanish art, he living in the 18th century. That is my dear friend Francisco Goya,” the Duchess of Alba continued her story. “You see what Goya wrote in paint at my feet: Solo Goya (Only Goya). Does that give you a clue about our intimacy? My dear Goya kept his painting of me, the Duchess of Alba, with him all the days of his life. Yes, Francisco was infatuated with me.”

Low lights now caressed the gallery as I looked across the way. The museum then revealed itself as a sacred space. I bowed my head as St. Jerome stepped out of El Greco’s painting. He spoke, “In my day, I was a devout theologian, priest, and monk and my writings survive until today. My spirit lives on through this painting, St. Jerome, by the Greek. It continues to inspire devotion in those who experience paintings by this master who truly embodied grace and a deep and holy devotion. El Greco was blessed with the great ability to transmit his grace through his god-gifted talent.”

“Ah, Santa Rufina,” St Jerome spoke, “Come and meet my new museum friend, Caroline.”

 The saint spoke, “The Spanish master, Francisco de Zurbarán, honors me with his painting, Santa Rufina, which lives now in this gallery. It is my privilege to commune with everyone here this evening. We often meet in this gallery after dark.” 

A man with scant clothing joined us. The saints did not seem to mind. As the gallery is climate controlled, The Prodigal Son feels comfortable in this setting with all of his nighttime friends. “Yes, we who are living subjects of paintings by the greatest masters of Spanish art do indeed meet often in this gallery after dark. I, The Prodigal Son was created by a 17th century contemporary of Velazquez and Zurbarán. Bartolomé Esteban Murillo is his name. Now let us take leave to go see our dear friend from the 20th century.”

Continuing we stepped into the Vision of Spain gallery where a throng of beautiful women welcomed us. “We are the dancers painted by the preeminent modern master, Joaquin Sorolla. As we come to life in Seville: The Dance, you see us in the mural painting wearing our colorful costumes, dancing with joy in the spirit of España.” 

Buenas noches y dulces sueños. Reluctantly I bid my new friends good night and sweet dreams. And such was my experience after dark in a museum gallery meeting living creations by the grand masters of Spanish painting. Meeting come-to-life paintings this evening had been a dream for me -- in so many ways. I had been in touch with occurrences in other realms of appreciation and experience. For me this had been a catalyst for a deeper exploration of the link between art and metaphysics. Achievable experiences with otherworldly people and places exist in my realm of all possibilities.