You might be inclined to call this “realism”. In fact, Newberry himself would call it “Romantic Realism”. But this painting is orders of magnitude deeper than that. For one thing, yes it’s figurative, but that doesn’t mean it’s simply “realistic”; in fact, there is a lot about this painting that I’d say falls squarely in the domain of abstraction. Let’s pick one rather clear element and consider it more closely: The first question I always ask myself when I see this painting is “Where the hell is the light coming from?” It’s not coming from a window. It’s not coming from a lamp. In fact, it’s neither omnidirectional ambient light nor is it coming from any directional source. It’s coming from INSIDE the painting! That, my friends, is an abstraction. It’s not Rothko’s abstraction or Pollack’s abstraction. What it IS, is a gorgeously nuanced abstraction with the clear purpose of conveying the message of the painting. It is an abstraction WITH PURPOSE!

Let’s say, for the heck of it, that you agree with me. The next question is “what’s the purpose?” I’ve never asked Newberry about that so I’ll tell you what I think. In my humble opinion, the purpose of the painting’s internal light is to unequivocally convey the burst of utter joy that comes from the relationship of the 2 subjects. To me, this is a painting about love. It has a certain eroticism but that is a surface element on top of something deeper. At that deeper level, at the painting’s philosophical core, is the pure joy of love. The inner light represents perfect human joy, It’s not the joy of an external entity like “God” or “Karma” or “universal peace”. It is the joy of two HUMANS experiencing the happiness that comes from human love. I can’t speak for you and I can’t speak for Newberry. But, for me, when I see this painting I not only feel joyful but “I want what he’s got!”. It makes me want to strive to achieve that level of joy in my own life.

This is why I say that Newberry’s work has a 40 year history of philosophical consistency. Over those year, his technique has been honed, his ability to execute has sped up, and his work has matured. But, through all that, he has never once forsaken his fundamental goal of using art to inspire us to strive for joy, to look for and admire greatness, and to want to feel good about our species. THAT is why this is my favorite painting of all time.

I first encountered “Denouement” in the form of a small postcard. I was sitting in my old favorite hangout in LA, “Al’s Bar” on Traction Avenue. In comes my old friend Judith Harding, carrying a postcard. She handed it to me ans asked me what I thought. I was speechless. I had to meet the man who made this painting. Lo and behold, he lived right across the street. From that day, this was my favorite painting and Michael Newberry became a part of my life. Today, I still can’t afford a painting like this. But my collection contains at least 10 of his pastels, lithographs, minor paintings, and even a color study from another painting I’ll never be able to afford.

I have to tell you that Michael is not a big fan of all of my Rothko writings. His philosophy diverges from that of Rothko and other abstract painters to such an extent that he can’t (and I don’t expect him to) agree with my love of Rothko. With a painter like Rothko, I wrestle. Newberry doesn’t have to. As an artist, he is so philosophically consistent and so rigorous in his position that art must inspire us to greatness, that he doesn’t need to find ways to like art that he feels has other goals. I like more art than Newberry likes. Then again, I’m an amateur collector and he is a creator. I think that says it all. Irrespective of all that, my admiration for Newberry’s consistency, commitment to expressing the experience of joy, and sheer painterly beauty is unending. So, while I wrestle, Newberry creates. For that I love him and for “Denouement” more than anything else, I thank him.

Steven Bilow

The pastel bowls are going to a new collector Nancy Beaver. Nancy participated in the marvelous No Boundaries Art Workshop in Tuscany last month.

Newberry, Textile Bowls 1, 2011, pastel on dark paper, 14 x 26 inches.

Newberry, Textile Bowls 2, 2011, pastel on dark paper, 14 x 26 inches.

Newberry, Textile Bowls 3, 2011, pastel on dark paper, 14 x 26 inches.

Smiling group, good sign! Left to right: Nancy Beaver, Luxman Nathan, Mark Giberson, Judy Boyle, Michael Newberry, and Valerie Laughton.

This pic is from our recent art workshop in Tuscany.

Below are the grounds of our villa. After everyone got a painting under their belt, I did a short demo about driving into the light. In the week’s workshop I did only two short demos, and all the artists did a lot of work. By mid week there were some 60-70 works! Far from being a task master, the afternoons were free to do as you like and everyone opted to paint.

Slipper – Michael Newberry

Slipper is one of my favourites by artist Michael Newberry, who like all great literary and visual artists has the ability to conceive and create scenes of total originality that – just like the great myths and legends that had the dramatic power to last thousands of years in the retelling –  once seen (or read) the world is inconceivable  without them.  In the simplest terms, such artists (and such myths) portray great and original scenes that so perfectly animate their theme the world was almost waiting for the artist to create them.

Newberry does this with his Icarus Landing – the figure that conquers the fall of both Christ and Icarus, and puts man back in charge over his universe.  He does it again with Artemis.  And he does it too with Slipper, whose exuberance bursts out like a bullet in flight heading straight for the furthest horizon.

Why have I chosen it for my first artistic post of the year?  Because it encapsulates the sense of life I like to express in my architecture.  The exuberance.  The light.  The feeling of release.  The movement.  The exaltation.  It’s not an expression of repose I aim for in my work (which is what all the textbooks tell us we should aim for in our architecture – creating a sense of repose and then letting our buildings sink down into a sea of subdued magnolias, or pongas), it’s the controlled explosion of joy Newberry captures so perfectly here, and that’s so desperately hard to do well.

It’s not so easy, but it’s the most fun when you can pull it off.

Peter Cresswell

Newberry, Ascension Day, 1990, oil on linen, 84 x 60 inches

Original in the collection of Dr. Annie Iriye

Another view.

In my early twenties I studied art in Holland. This is my only attempt at sculpture. Lynia, a friend of mine posed for this, she has a marvelous head.

Newberry, Woman’s Head (Lynia), 1979, clay, life size.

Newberry, Woman’s Head (Lynia) Edition 2 of 2, 1979, bronze, life size.
Whereabouts unknown.

Another view.