Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

So, I’ve been back in Manhattan and having a ball, seeing old friends, catching a really wonderful show (“The Visit” — more on that one in another post), having a couple of business meetings, seeing some great art, doing research, taking a class or two, and buying books to use in our foundation’s classes.  Oh, for me, this is heavenly stuff!

If you’ve been a regular reader of this blog or of any of our foundation’s newsletters, 2 - Olive Trees at Collioure - Henri Matisseyou know that one of the things I’m really big on is a multi-disciplinary approach to the arts and to arts education.  (Meaning, in short, that everyone should learn as much about the arts as they can and — especially for those working in or studying the arts — learn as much as they can about artistic disciplines outside their primary one, while using those other disciplines to inform and enhance their own.)  (See these blog posts in particular for more  on this topic:  “Towards a Multidisciplinary Approach”, “Further Towards a Multidisciplinary Approach,” and “And Now. . .Keep Building The Approach”).

That’s one of our core values at the foundation:  “expanding the vision and abilities of young artists by encouraging them to learn about and experience a cross-section of artistic activities in disciplines outside their primary areas of interest”.  (See the others on our website’s home page at www.ewwwf.org.)

These last several weeks, I’ve been focusing on “The Fauves”, those “wild beasts” (Henri Matisse, André Derain, Georges Braque et al.),  who at t2 - Boats on the Seine at Chatou - Maurice de Vlaminckhe turn of the 20th century, for a brief time, stood the world of art on its ear.  They broke the rules of art — letting their technique show, blurring lines, and using bold, “unrealistic colors”  to express emotion and feeling rather than “realism”.  I want to bring that freedom to our students, who — living in a world of intense technology — often have a great amount of difficulty using their imaginations.  (See the post “Wild Beasts at Work” for more on this.)

These last few days, as I’ve tripped the light fantastic on the side-2 - House behind the trees - Braquewalks of the city that I’ve spent the most years of my life in, I’ve seen and recalled how one can just easily “live” this kind of “inter- disciplinary life” in a place like New York.   In other places, it’s much more difficult because the variety just isn’t there.  Some people are fine with that; others don’t know what they’re missing.  I think everyone should have the opportunity to make his or her own choice.

So, my pun in the title of this post is a littlFauvist Pige joke on myself, especially in light of my “Fauvist Pig!” photograph (done as a spoof and seen here on the right) in the “Wild Beasts at Work” post.

Here I am in New York, researching and living my “fauvist” approach.  (Would it be going too far to say “wallowing in”?)   Remember that old children’s rhyme:  “To market, to market to buy a fat pig”?  The next line is “Home again, home again, jiggity jig.”

SO . . .  the question for me is — “Which is my home:  NYC, where my “inner wild beast” feasts?  Or Charlotte, NC, where my students are?”  It’s an 11 hour drive between the two.  Possible to do both?   Maybe not as easy as “jiggity-jig”; maybe more of a “jiggity-jog”.

Oh, and by the way . . . in all this pondering, I’ve found the theme for the little musical play we’ll develop for our final workshop presentation for the public on August 14th.   That will be announced at the end of next month.   Stay tuned!

Where is “home” for you?

What makes it your home?

I invite you to “weigh in” with your own comments and ideas and to share them with other readers by using the “Comments” feature below.  You can click the “Comments” button at the top of the page to see what other readers have to say and to create a dialogue with them.

*I took the photos of the artworks above at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York on May 31, 2015.  These beautiful examples of works by some of the Fauvist masters are (in order of their appearance in this post):  “Olive Trees at Collioure” by Henri Matisse;  “Boats on the Seine at Chatou” by Maurice de Vlaminck; and “House Behind the Trees” by Georges Braque.

© William B. Watkins and “William Weighs In”, 2014-2015. All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction. This blog and all its content and components, including but not limited to photographs, videos, music, and text entries, are fully protected by all copyright laws of the United States of America and by international covenants. This work may not be reproduced in whole or in part in any form. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

13 thoughts on “Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig”

  1. Great artwork! I cracked up at the picture of the hog, btw.

    Home? Great question. I’ve spent years on tour. Its always a nice feeling to be back home in New York. You got to make home where you are tho. I always carry pictures of loved ones and a trinket or two when I’m on the road.

    1. Well, that was quick, Steve! So, you say that it’s always nice to be back in NYC after you’ve been on tour for a while. What is it exactly that makes it so nice to be back?

  2. Sounds like home for you, Bill, is wherever you get the most creative stimulation!

    It’s part that way for me but there’s definitely also a personal emotional part. As much as I travel and as happy as I can be on the road working, if my sweetie isn’t with me it ain’t home.

    1. Yep! I totally get that. That’s one reason I found being on the road for any extended time difficult as I got older. How do others cope with that?

    1. Steve — there are several ways we can use this with students. The first, most practical way this summer is exploring concepts of “home” and where “best places” are. I don’t want to say too much here yet but we’ll see how that might develop for them performance wise.

  3. I’m reminded of that song from Pippin, “Rivers belong where they can ramble. Eagles belong where they can fly. I’ve got to be where my spirit can run free…..”

  4. When I think of “home” I think of two definitions: 1) where do you live and 2) where is the home of your heart. Both are valid. So where is home? I’ve lived in The Bronx, NY for well over 50 years. The Bronx gets a bad rap, but it is home & always will be home. We lived in the same house with my grandmother, aunt & cousin. We all went to the same grammar school & HSs in the Bronx. Both my parents were raised in the Bronx from early childhood, my older siblings married in the Bronx to people from the Bronx. I married someone fro the Bronx (twice!) My roots are so deeply entrenched in the Bronx that I believe that I’ll always answer the question “Where is home/Where are you from?” with The Bronx. We roamed the neighborhood as children, roamed the Bronx as teenagers & traveled to college or work as young adults & so had a frame of reference, but home to the Bronx we always came. Back in my day The Bronx was homey, tight-knit, each neighborhood a community. Facebook has helped to bring us all back to The Bronx & our neighborhood & it seems that no matter where we all live we all call the Bronx home. Despite all the above rambling I’m not sure if I really answered “where is home.” Home is where the plant that is “Marybeth” was watered, nurtured & grew into an adult and that was The Bronx, NYC.

  5. As I grow older, I think “home” is an emotional center, not so much a place. Now my parents are both gone. Someone else lives in my childhood house, and I don’t even know their names. When I am with friends or family that I love, I am “home.” When I perform or write or do something that feeds my soul, I am “home,” regardless of where that might be in the whole wide world. I am writing a movie, and when I work on it, and am deeply immersed in the world of my characters, I feel somehow that I am “home.” I love these characters because they bring me “home” sometimes when I am feeling sad or worried.

  6. Home is Many Pines on Lake Eau Claire in Wisconsin.
    Home is Ammie, My Grandmother, and Ada, who took care of her children, and then took care of me and my brothers and sister.
    These are my Heart.
    Home is my little doggie, Daisy.
    Home is my Closest Friends. And in the Little Room on 96th St.
    Home is Playing in Plays, and Singing Songs.
    Home is Swimming in Soothing Water, and Turning my Face towards the Sun.
    Home is Friends who have moved away to other lands (at least for now): Bill, Paul, Gary, Paul and Maria…
    Home is Family and Friends, whom I miss very much. I will see them again one day soon: Dad, Earl, Peggers, and others.
    I hope to find Home in my Heart Ultimately.

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