I WAS HERE

In reflection about the current role of painting and where it might be headed, I have observed that much of the passion has been lost. For me, my paintings have always been about the passion and about the paint. Whether I explore landscapes or surface dialogues, I find that without the interpretive passion, the effort becomes meaningless. In other words, I want to make paintings I can live with, and why bother with bland?

Taking nearly two years to complete, the “I Was Here” body of work incorporates the statement in several of the paintings along with use of the hash marks used by soldiers and prisoners to count the days, or by scorekeepers to keep tabs, all of which goes to the core of a very basic need for recognition, acknowledgement, and to be counted. Forcing the viewer to quietly repeat the statement is a reminder that s/he, too, counts. It applies globally to every culture and always will, as long as there are people. It also goes to countless objects, actions, and results such as the atomic bomb, bullets, footprints, glacier grooves, or gravesites.

The earth is laden with the unremarkable people who have become dust, which is itself their memory. We know that they were here from diggings, writings and symbols, by their art, pottery, cave paintings, and artifacts. Yet, what of the others – the farmers, hunters, herders, fence builders, grass weavers, or misfits, and so many others, even today? Except for a grave marker, and some won't even have that, it is the unknown and unremarkable who inspired this work. Surely, even the cavemen, cliff dwellers, and hunters and gatherers needed recognition. I believe that we all connect at our own core with the “I Was Here” statement.

I chose a psychological language, used symbols, textures, bold strokes and colors, and put forth my own passion to express a gamut of feelings from joy to anger, of fear and frustration, and of calm and serenity in a range of scenarios because at our very core, we all want recognition and to feel that we counted for something…to say, “I was here, and I did good work.”

Rebecca Kaler