Tango

29×21 inches, mixed media on paper. My father is a very good dancer. I’ve only seen him dance once, and he was already in his seventies,  but I could see that he knew his way around the dance floor.  It’s the way he pulled the woman close to him,  (with so much presence) and the way he commanded the entire dance, that impressed me so much. He didn’t dance for long, and he was dancing with my Mom, who was blind and fragile.  I could tell. This man loved to dance. He also loved my Mom, and I am sure he loved woman in general. He had told me stories of how he would dance with the plainest girl at the party, so that she could feel beautiful. I could see how he could do that.

I remember him when he was a younger man. He looked just like Clark Gable, and I was absolutely head over heals for him when I was around five. A charismatic artist.  (A GREAT artist. I adored his paintings and murals. I loved the action he captured. ) He would dress up to go out.I don’t know where “out” was but he sure looked sharp.

Some times, after he got home at around 4:00 AM he would be very excited about his night, and would wake us up, to tell us the story of how he beat the crap out of a couple of guys. I don’t know what the reason was, but something they said. Maybe about being Jewish. He definitely got riled when someone insulted him for being Jewish. It’s like, he was defending the honour of all Jews everywhere.  He would re-enact the entire pre-amble to the fight, and I would sit on the couch with my mouth open. Very entertained. You have to picture this. Me and Tommy, Susy and Michael, sitting on a couch, in our disheveled living room, listening and watching this extremely animated and loud man, tell us this incredible story. I’m too prudish to repeat what he said,(He didn’t edit the swear words for our tender young ears)  I was so very amused and somewhat delighted that I was not in bed sleeping. I was up listening to this amazing story of how my Dad beat up these guys. My hero! I was very young, because I know it was in Timmins, and I was very young when we lived in Timmins.  My Mom eventually woke up and crashed the party. I can’t blame her now, but at the time, I didn’t really understand why she was so upset.  This painting  is not him exactly, but inspired by him.

I had one of his CD’s. Argentine Tango music. I listened, over and over again, and this painting came to life.

The flowers in her dress were discovered the day before I started work on it.  They were in Van Dusen Gardens, and I had never seen them before. Beautiful, alien flowers. My favorite kind.

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Angela

40×30 inches, arylic and metallic ink. It’ s inspiration is my daughter Angela

I think it was my second acrylic piece ever, and I was delighting in the whole concept of it.

The soft flowers, and the delicate colors. I was visiting my Dad, Joe Mallin (he’s an artist too, and if I ever get time to do it, his life could easily fill a book and make an incredible Hollywood movie. The man is bigger than life!) I was visiting him frequently, dragging my in progress painting across town on the bus, to  get his opinion on where it was at, in it’s various stages.

I had been noticed by artist Raymond Chow, and we were going to do something together. He is v-e-r-y- well-known in BC. I was one of the artists at Granville Island Market, and I was meeting some really wonderful people. I was in exhilaration while I painted it, and interestingly enough, Angela, who is just like that all time, popped into my painting. I looked at it after I finished, and said  “Hey! That’s Angela!!!” and everyone agreed it was.

Raymond was trying to help me get this made into Giclee prints, but I was stubborn, and said no to his help. He offered to finance it for me. I wanted to pay for everything on my own steam.

But in retrospect, I wish I had taken his very wise and kind offer to have Angela made into Giclee prints. He knew she was fabulous!!

Poor Raymond. I think I was a bit difficult to work with. He was so generous, and I was so stubborn, and short sighted.

Regardless, that is part of the story, and I am trying to tell the stories behind the paintings here.

The painting “Angela”  is living in the home of John and Lisa Bell.  They are my ex-inlaws, (John is brother to my first out of five husbands)  and they are amongst  my dearest friends. How delightful that it lives in their home, and is framed so beautifully!!

It’s at least fifteen years later, and I saw my daughter Angela last night.  Yup. Still the exhilarating, fabulous  person she was back then. Also, I am feeling those painterly exhilarations  welling up in me now. I think I’ll get going on that piece I’ve had in my head for the last three days! Bye for now.

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