death still
life

blood burning
mouth

lips
once kissed
teach torment

in valley
sugar
& spice
slaves

(slaves sing
through this
threnody)

so serpent said

narrator
not here
in hell

you
&
you
who
i & i
who

who

who
taught you terror
wait
under tree

for your shadow
speaks
with other
tongue

tongue tells
death diligent

kiss horizon
before
it end so

just so
it ends

it ends so

hear horse
praying on precipice
calm as night

still as night
night still
as death

last vigil
so sweat
secret
body of earth
cold

so cold

you turn back
to sea

turn back
to sea
run

silent as birds
breaking

in heaven
absence
& ash
blood knows

drink from pool
memory
of blood

in no time
it ends

it ends
listen to horse
as it follows
you in valley

go

go for gloves
so stained

you have forgotten
where you are

echo betrays
so stones sing
song of songs
savage flowers
feed

(god gone
with captain
on ghost
ship)

nature knew
from beginning
being becomes beast

beast from beast

forgotten ferocity
of embrace

(ships sail)

timber
& chains
skin
& song

night
on knees
now
& forever

go to garden
no

no

no

go to garden
abandon all
that
is not great
so small

so small

since setting
off

off
since you came
into being

hands of storm
held tight

go to garden
collect leaves

if it is
last thing
mud makes

vein to vein
wind
& rain

light from sea
darkens
day ends

days
at an end

over
& done

but you knew
that

when horse heaved
tremble
tumult tender

serpent pities plea
out of breath
broken
slaves
& spice

turn your back
to sea

souvenance

serpent speaks
so softly

so softly

irrevocable

sleep gone
once
& for all

silence sense
less
breath

last dance

smell shadow
is it not
forbidding
forgetting not
at hand

(débris defines divine)

so saliva
sea
sperm
& sweat
stains

death being
being

run to ravine
run

sleep sense
less

source
sugar
& slaves
vein to vein

go to garden
go

close
so close

go to garden
speak to stones

there being
no promised land

go to garden
speak to stones
sing

painting - © Luciano Prisco figures walk. 2020

Although Jacquelynn Kresman was born in Lorain, Ohio, she came west with her parents when very young and has always thought of herself as a ‘native’ of beautiful San Diego, California. The family built a home in the Point Loma neighborhood, just blocks away from some of the area’s most beautiful shoreline. She reminisces; “back then a young kid could wander alone and I took advantage of that freedom and spent almost all of my time at the beach”. Living just a few blocks from the beach as an only child, it was her playground and her best friend. She made it her mission to capture on canvas every inch of the captivating coast of her adopted state. Kresman, as she signs her work, has canvassed that seashore. Her artistic vision went naturally to the sea-conscious environment from which she developed.

When asked how her parents most influenced her art, she responds; “They never bought me a single coloring book. Instead I got blank note pads with pencils and pastels. I learned early on to create my own images”. She would take those notebooks to Ocean Beach and the tide pools of Sunset Cliffs and sketch everything she saw. She remembers painting a beach scene when she was six years old, in order to let her parents know what she had been doing that day. By her twelfth birthday, she had started learning to scuba dive.

After graduating from Point Loma High School, she became part of an oceanography program at Bishops School in La Jolla. Although she loved painting from a young age, she felt she needed to have a “real job”, so she studied Oceanography and Marine Biology at the world famous Scripps Institution of Oceanography. At the time she dreamt of sailing off with Jacques Cousteau. Kresman developed a carefully refined expertise and ‘eye’ for the water creatures that would later populate her detailed tide pool paintings. For Kresman, the ocean and seashore are not only inspirational from a scientific viewpoint, but from a spiritual and artistic one as well. Later, she studied under William DeShazo, a New Mexico cowboy painter, transplanted to Southern California, who taught her the “basic skills” she depends on to today.

Kresman started her professional career by showing her work at ‘art in the park’ type local shows around San Diego. She eventually reached the top of the waiting list and was granted a studio in Balboa Park’s Spanish Village. It was here that her first real collectors began to appreciate a still rough gem. Two of these collectors realized that buying every piece they could was not enough, so they confided in her the dream of opening their own gallery and so, she had her first professional level showcase in The Coronado Art Gallery.

Next came representation in Southern California’s oldest and most important art colony, Laguna Beach. It was here that Leslie B. DeMille (cousin to Cecil) recognized the potential of a rare bird in the art scene of the time, a totally new style. So it was that DeMille became the first major dealer to feature her work. From there it was only a few months before the west coast art capitol, Carmel by the Sea, opened its doors in welcome. Here she was fought over by the major galleries of the time. Although she was invited into the premier among them, Gallery Americana, it was soon apparent that the idea was to bury her so as not to compete with the established names. Luckily a new upstart showroom that had yet to land a star, made one out of Ms. Kresman and so Lindsey Gallery became the place where she went from new upstart to a major force to be reckoned with.

The press, including the LA Times began to take notice around that time.

Soon Southwest Art Magazine contacted Kresman with news they wanted to do an article about her. This was a major step in several ways; it was the first major attention from a prominent art publication and secondly, SW Art had never featured an artist that was primarily focused on the sea. Their explanation was that they wanted to expand the definition of what a south west artist was. Well they sure did, and in fact, when the edition was published, the cover was a beautiful rendition of what would soon come to be known as a “typical Kresman”. From there her career was assured.

A trip to Puerto Rico originally meant as a vacation, resulted in the island’s premier showcase, D’Esopo Gallery (now The Gallery Inn) extending an invitation to have a show. So what had now become a ‘working trip’ resulted in her first scenes of the tropics. She even traveled beyond ‘La Isla’ with side trips to the British Virgin Islands that rounded out her vision. This resulted in the island’s premier English language newspaper doing a fantastic review.

A trip to New York City resulted in being asked to show at the greatest and most respected showcase, Grand Central Art Gallery. This was the pinnacle of success for any artist who specialized in realistic art. At a time when the major focus of the most museum shows focused on abstract work, most important periodicals had to acknowledge something else and so 'Art in America' and 'Art News' made space on their pages for Jacquelynn Kresman.

A few years later a new force appeared in Carmel, a man by the name of Mario Simic. He had a dream of opening the first fine art ‘super-store’ where he intended to basically ‘steal’ the biggest star from each galley in town and put them all under one roof. Although it hurt Jackie to move from the nurturing comfort of the Lindsey Gallery, the offer was too much to pass up and Mr. Lindsey understood. Simic Galleries soon opened locations in La Jolla, Beverly Hills, Seattle and Hawaii. Although the gallery chain has since closed, Mario is not one to be kept down and has a new showcase, Renoir Gallery, back in Carmel where he first got his start and you can still find Kresman originals and giclées there.

Simic Gallery one woman show Rodeo Drive

Kresman’s art captures not only the beauty of seascapes and tide pools, but also of mountains, waterfalls, sunsets, figuratives and landscapes. She has even created scenes of ‘urban life’.

"Shades of Summer"

Employing a contemporary glazing technique reminiscent of the great Renaissance painters, Kresman’s artworks achieve a lustrous, pearl-like quality, as if they were illuminated from within. Precision brushwork captures the detail from the foam and froth of the surf down to the very grains of sand.  Her depictions of marine life uncover the marvelous minute and lively world of the tide pools; sea urchins, mollusks, starfish and crabs, all beneath the water’s surface. Her mountains and waterfalls put you there in the moment; you can almost hear the water splash, the birds sing and the wind peacefully blowing by.

Interview with Jacquelynn Kresman at work

Although she greatly admires the photorealist painters like Richard Estes, Chuck Close and Audrey Flack, she does not think of herself as one of them. “My work seeks to capture the essence of a scene, not the literal image.” Some of her pictures are actual locations, but many are not. When she travels her goal is to absorb the minutiae, because “it is the sum total of detail that brings a painting into focus and provides the essence”.

"Street Dancers"

Today all of the major publishers have editions of giclées, limited edition lithographs, posters, greeting cards and even magnets showcasing the art of Kresman, but if you want an original, you only have a few choices; Find one at auction, contact galleries and see if they have a re-sale or if you are a serious investor/collector, commission one of the few pieces she still does each year. But hurry, because she has been overheard talking of ‘retirement’…

In the cause of full disclosure, I have known Jack for many years, was once her agent, manager and yes, that is me in many of her paintings, including in my younger days, here in "Hey Dude".

This is a series of short Questions and answers with the artist;

How do you feel when you're painting?

What role does photography play in your work?

Why not do photography rather than paint realism?

What hinders your creative process?

Why do you paint with such extraordinary realism?

Why do you paint with oils?

Is your work really as simple as it looks?

Do you get nervous when showing your work?

What kind of criticisms have you gotten in the past?

And finaly a video that I find informative and inspiring and captures the very essence of my friend Jacquelynn Kresman;

CREDIT:

All of the videos in this article were produced by RosArt Multimedia Inc. for a CD entitled The Art of Kresman

Now ensconced at the grand, see-through piano at Stacy’s Piano Bar in Palm Springs, CA, Tommy Dodson sings, “We’re Still Together”. (Link below)

More than 20 years ago, the song now known as, “We’re Still Together” was a melody without words, which Tommy Dodson already had composed at the time we were on the verge of beginning our collaboration to write original stage musicals Tommy was living in Los Angeles and performing in San Diego, where I resided and still reside. I was completely unaware of that melody. One day, Tommy faxed me the musical notation of that song, and asked if I could come up with a lyric for it.

Tommy has never admitted it, but I am sure it was a test of my musical acumen. The next day, I faxed the notation back to him with every syllable of the new lyric properly placed beneath each element of the musical notation.

Actually, that song marked a change in musical direction for me – and for Tommy, as well. Previously, at the RCA Victor Recording Studios in Mexico City, I collaborated with Armando Manzanero, and used his recordings as a guide for replacing his Spanish lyrics with my original lyrics in English. The Castro Brothers and Rubén Fuentes supplied me with musical notation on lead sheets, as did Tommy.

In Puerto Rico, the late Peter Widdicombe would write out almost print-quality of original melodies on hard notation paper. His one stipulation was that I give him lyrics only in Spanish.

The change of direction with Tommy Dodson is that – except on certain occasions, from time to time – the songs we were to write would not be individual melodies, rather integral elements of original stage musicals. After learning to write dialog, I had to develop the skill of extracting lyrics from the dialog that were cogent and contributed to a smooth continuation of the narrative.in question.

Here are the lyrics that resulted from my not-so-subtle music exam by fax.

WE’RE STILL

Sometimes the laughter helped us to survive.
It soothed the heart ache that comes when hearts break.
When there’s no answer
Not even plans certain to revive us.

Sometimes the anger kept us both alive.
It made us stronger, we held on longer.
We knew no other we might discover
Would be right for us.

So with it all sacrifice and pain
We strove to follow it through
It seemed so clear that a love so dear
Was well worth the while to renew.

Sometimes the danger could be felt inside.
It made our hearts beat as lonely hearts meet.
There’s always something, we’ve salvaged one thing.
We’re still together.

So with it all sacrifice and pain
We strove to follow it through
It seemed so clear that a love so dear
Was well worth the while to renew.

Asked here in an interview about my relation with poetry of the English language. i replied very quickly, none.

Not now, or of my time or even of the last century. Dylan Thomas & Hart Crane, Ed Dorn but very little else & these three are very singular poets other than that William Blake but he is beyond language, any language, dead or living. Milton i love for his fanaticism

The real influences were always elsewhere, from the first, Mayakovsky, Hikmet, Vallejo, Ungareyy, Quasimodo, Elytis, Ritsos, Darwhich, Dalton, Pizarnik, Rozewicz - from the Arab & Latin American worlds, so many, from the ancients to the present

Tony Harrison, I respect enormously but feel little affinity but posses so much respect for his implacability, like his countryman Edward Bond. their sublime work tells the lie that political work cannot be important work. both of them surpass almost all others in their language.

I cannot understand, really cannot understand why Irish poets for example never wrote one thing, not one line that alluded to the dirty blanket or hunger strikers or the hundreds of the gross miscarriages of justice - not one word. a crude mind might say, there publishers were english publishers but I know it goes deeper than that - though none of them had any difficulty in identifying with Eastern European comrades - they learnt from Nabakov, Naipaul, & Milosz - that western elites love silence in their poets & so they followed that, to the letter

In any case, for a young poet, Mayakovsky, Hikmet & Vallejo were what Walter Benjamin demanded writers to be - teachers. these poets taught how a poetry could possibly speak, how it could talk to people & talk to souls, living & dead. pasolini & adonis also taught that, but perhaps in a more deflective way.

I reminded the interviewer that the poetry of the oppressed had been my real teacher & why, even sick I remain committed to working in those communities. It is those who are close to the margins who really teach the function of language, in all its forms & in all its spheres, from the brutal to the abstract - how polyphony & discontinuity connected runs like like the Tigris & Euphrates, through it. It is this community who took me back to childhood, not in any psychoanalytic way but in a fundamental way to the imagery of my troubled, troubled childhood, prelanguage, what images remained & so it was little surprise to see these images reappear when i did a close reading of the preislamic poets before beginning to write the 'improvisation for the memorial to the abolition to slavery'.

These images, always there, give life when i am so close to death or reminded of its caress, of its contours each & every day

Clearly, the interviewer, who was asking imagined i would praise the great depth of the english language. I did not. I could not. that is not my truth. My work from 14 years of age to this moment has been to tear that language apart with all the art i possess, with all the force i am am able,to encircle my art - so that even if it comes from a dead language, it attempts to answer the wrongs of my culture & under the influence of my latin american brothers & sisters, suggest that another world is possible

I have always felt a special affinity with the poetry of the shtetl & of the ghettos, what victims & survivors did to language, their own & others has had a profound affect on me as a man, perhaps as a poet. It is a point of pride to me that my French editor who introduced my work to France also introduced the work of paul celan to a French public

The translator of my poem, Bateau Bleu, Thomas Harlan, a German writer & French film maker became from that moment until his death in 2010, two decades, my closest collaborator. Sometimes this life is organic, truly organic. October, that symbolic month, in many ways, became more symbolic because of his death. It remains a difficult month for me, i feel i lost my twin, a twin who taught me again, rigor & effort, the truth that the work is the most important living fact of our lives.