There are some famous paintings and works of art that have profound and immediate effects on us when we see them. Sometimes, these effects aren’t so obvious as time passes. The images can become a blur over time, blending in with an overall, collective generality of memories resulting in a label such as “I liked that.” Here things sit, details festering like an old wound just waiting to be reopened, until suddenly, in a burst of light, this thing reveals itself to you once again.

Pablo Picasso’s “the Three Dancers” is one of those such paintings for me.

I can’t say that it was a forgotten painting – its just one that wasn’t being thought of when I began a sketch one day. I can’t even say I was thinking about dancing for that matter, but I did intend on exploring the female form, so I began. Withing minutes, I had my figure done and right off something began nipping at my neck. This was no vague recollection – I immediately knew exactly what I was looking at, and while it was mine, its was someone else’s before. I had drawn the center figure Picasso’s Three Dancers – a wild woman caught in the throes of wild abandon and ecstasy beyond the levels of Bernini’s Ecstasy of Saint Teresa, though not.

Having done this, I figured I might as well finish of this sketch. I could have continued without reference but for one gap in my memory – while the figure on the left was clear as day to me in my mind (at least my own interpretation of her) the less active, more subdued (?) dancer to the right was eluding me, so I opened up a book (yeah, I still do such things) to find the image, and there it was. A couple of additions and tweaks to details later, I had my own version of this famous painting. Below you will see my tidied up and colorized drawing that came from that deep and infinite pit we call mind.

Suddenly, with this one portraying my visitation to a Picasso subject with modifications, I had something that I wanted to paint – something I really had no intention of doing. I was just drawing.

Having decided to transition this into canvas, I needed narrative. I wanted to tell a story with this one, albeit a fictional story, and it would begin with the end. So, I placed Pablo in his later years, in the late 1960’s, and they heyday of the Peace and Love era. While Pablo’s original painting was completely constructed sans models, this painting would put Papa Pablo in his studio, repainting, revisiting his own work of art done originally in 1925. However, this time, he would have models (my three hippie chicks) to refer to. And so, with my own “Wild is the Wind” we see the famous painter in his studio, in the setting of his arched villa that he lived in at the time called Notre Dame de Vie, in Mougins, France.

Above is the finished painting, a 750×1500 pretty large, stretched canvas. You’ll be able to see this painting on display in my Madcaps and Scapegoats show curated and hosted by Denis Taylor at Tubes Artist Gallery from October 21 – 31. We will have a catalog to accompany the show, and I’ll publish a link to the Virtual show which will be online as soon as its developed. Below is a promo-spot done by Tubes for the show. Turn on your speakers and enjoy.