Stephen Vakil
Well-Known Member
I was very fortunate to attend the premier of the documentary “Herb Alpert: Music For Your Eyes” in New York on Tuesday. The work is 28 minutes long and centres on Herb Alpert’s painting and sculpture.
The film was introduced by Lois Riggins-Ezzell who is Executive Director of the Tennessee State Museum, where there was a show of Alpert’s art in August and September last year. We should be in no doubt that Herb Alpert’s work is taken seriously in the art world; this is not someone trading on his popularity as a musician to publicise his art. Alpert has been painting for over thirty years, having been inspired by regular visits to museums and art galleries around the world while touring with the TJB, and first exhibited in 1989.
The documentary began with Alpert starting to paint on a fresh, white canvas in daring bold strokes. As the film progressed, so did the painting. He was shown creating sculptures from small wax “prototypes” using a blowtorch in his kitchen to giant works taller than the artist. We see him experimenting on a particular piece, trying different techniques (whacking the sculpture with a stick, then smoothing the indentations, and at one point putting a footprint on it, only to obliterate the effect saying “that looks terrible!”).
One of the consistent themes throughout much of Alpert’s work is its organic quality. Smooth, round shapes abound on both canvas and sculpture. Just as many of his paintings are compartmentalised, with straight lines separating the organic forms contained within, Alpert seems determined to keep his music and visual art separate, rightly keen that his skills as a painter and sculpture are judged on their own merits. However, the links with his jazz are obvious, from his quote “there is music in color and form, and color and form in music” to the soundtrack of the film, which he co-composed and performed.
The works have been painstakingly recorded and the documentary succeeds in offering the viewer a flavour of Alpert’s work and, to some extent, an insight into his method.
The film will be shown until 8 May at The Screening Room, 54 Varick Street (on the corner of Canal) in New York.
The film was introduced by Lois Riggins-Ezzell who is Executive Director of the Tennessee State Museum, where there was a show of Alpert’s art in August and September last year. We should be in no doubt that Herb Alpert’s work is taken seriously in the art world; this is not someone trading on his popularity as a musician to publicise his art. Alpert has been painting for over thirty years, having been inspired by regular visits to museums and art galleries around the world while touring with the TJB, and first exhibited in 1989.
The documentary began with Alpert starting to paint on a fresh, white canvas in daring bold strokes. As the film progressed, so did the painting. He was shown creating sculptures from small wax “prototypes” using a blowtorch in his kitchen to giant works taller than the artist. We see him experimenting on a particular piece, trying different techniques (whacking the sculpture with a stick, then smoothing the indentations, and at one point putting a footprint on it, only to obliterate the effect saying “that looks terrible!”).
One of the consistent themes throughout much of Alpert’s work is its organic quality. Smooth, round shapes abound on both canvas and sculpture. Just as many of his paintings are compartmentalised, with straight lines separating the organic forms contained within, Alpert seems determined to keep his music and visual art separate, rightly keen that his skills as a painter and sculpture are judged on their own merits. However, the links with his jazz are obvious, from his quote “there is music in color and form, and color and form in music” to the soundtrack of the film, which he co-composed and performed.
The works have been painstakingly recorded and the documentary succeeds in offering the viewer a flavour of Alpert’s work and, to some extent, an insight into his method.
The film will be shown until 8 May at The Screening Room, 54 Varick Street (on the corner of Canal) in New York.