![](../../images/spacer.gif)
|
|
![archives](../../images/h-archives.gif)
December 12, 2008
Cohen flexes his artistic muscles
Jewish troubadour's talent as a visual artist is exhibited in Kerrisdale gallery until Dec. 31.
RYAN NADEL
Leonard Cohen endures as poet, singer, novelist and now, visual artist. His professional success and long-evity speaks to the power of his work, but more so to his personality. In any medium, Cohen's sombre baritone rings true.
Cohen revealed himself as a visual artist in June 2007 with a show in Toronto, Drawn to Words: Visual Works From 40 Years. Now it's Vancouver's turn, the third and final stop of the show (it first appeared in Manchester). Cohen is showing his work at LindaLando Fine Art in Kerrisdale until Dec. 31. The show will probably be remounted in spring 2009, when it is rumored that Cohen will be coming to Vancouver to perform.
The exhibit kicked off with an invite-only opening on Dec. 3 in Gastown. Cohen's artwork covered every inch of the walls, photos of him throughout the years were projected above them, and, naturally, his music filled the space. When anyone familiar with Cohen's songs encounters the art for the first time, they are often struck by the distinctness of it.
I had the unique opportunity to get to know Cohen beyond his art. At an age far too young to understand, let alone appreciate, him, I tagged along as my father, Ira Nadel, wrote Cohen's biography, Various Positions: A Life of Leonard Cohen.
My first encounter with the balladeer was in New York City. Cohen was shooting a music video for "Dance Me to the End of Love." I was 12 years old. My father and I went to the Sony sound stage. I met Cohen in the lounge of the studio – he was eating lunch, fettuccini alfredo, he was wearing a black suit. After lunch, I followed my father and Cohen down to the sound stage and watched the proceedings.
Cohen sang, musicians played and a series of elderly couples danced elegantly in the background, as their wedding photos were projected on a screen. After a few minutes, I went back to the lounge and tried to smoke my first cigarette. I guess Cohen even inspired that 12-year-old.
Cohen is in the habit of sending emissaries to events that carry his name. For this event, Adam Cohen, his son, represented the family. In a moment of artistic symmetry, I interviewed Adam. Last time Adam and I met was at Kelley Lynch's house; Lynch was Cohen's former manager and is currently accused of pilfering Cohen's savings.
I was nervous when I spoke with Adam. I felt the ears of generations listening to us, the ears of our fathers. "It has a charming flair," Adam said of our journalistic encounter. He didn't remember meeting me nor did I remember meeting him.
"I was invited to the art show to carry out ambassadorial duties. To have a Cohen presence on board adds some legitimacy to the project," he said.
Leonard Cohen the visual artist may seem like a departure but Adam explained that it is just another medium of expression for his father: "Drawing is just another part of his discipline; it is another way for him to blacken pages." Linda Lando, owner of the gallery, describes the art as "delightful, there is a little Chagall and a little Picasso in the works, they are very expressive."
Thirty-seven of 54 works are on display at her gallery. "The response has been huge, everyone is really interested and excited," said Lando. All the images have been produced with permanent pigmented ink on 300-pound Arches watercolor paper, finished with a hand-deckled edge. Each individual print is signed, titled, numbered and dated, embossed and stamped with Cohen's personal seal by the artist himself. The seal has two elements, an adaptation of a Magen David, where hearts replace the traditional triangles, and a Chinese phrase. Cohen explains that the Chinese phrase is his monastic Zen name, "Ordinary Silence."
The subject of the art has evolved over the 40 years of their composition. "There has been a big change in his visual work over the years," Adam said. "Most early works were studies of inanimate objects. Then he went through a phase of drawing nudes and women and then his instalments of self-portraits and annotations." The self-portraits walk the line of self-deprecation and intense introspection. They are not flattering; they are honest. Many of the self-portraits contain pithy sayings. My favorite is a hand-sketched self-portrait depicting a bearded, tired Leonard with a handwritten note, "Only one thing made him happy but now that it was gone, everything made him happy.' "
Ira Nadel, Cohen's biographer and my father, commented that much of Cohen's appeal is in the sense of vulnerability and mystery he projects. This sense is evident in much of the artwork.
The beauty in Leonard's visual art is not necessarily in the particular colors or the life drawings or the composition per se but in the honesty. Similar to his music and poetry, the works are unique and full of truth. "In art of all types, you are looking for a voice, that thing which will distinguish you. People in the art world are green with envy because my father's visual art is distinct. People will be satisfied because my father's distinct voice is very present," Adam said. And Adam echoed in jest what many were thinking while they looked at the walls covered in Cohen's art – "As if Leonard Cohen needed this, another way to inject his voice into his art."
Adam commented at the opening of the show, "Fathers and sons often have difficult relationships, but I am overwhelmed by the beauty of my father and his legacy and am extremely proud of the work."
While the younger Cohen doesn't draw, he does sing and perform and write music. "Before any decision was conscious, I was doing music, making sounds," Adam said. In his own musical journey, Adam has learned how to step out from under the gigantic shadow of his father and stand on his father's shoulders. "Anytime you have an artistic calling, you ought to undertake a mentorship and, if you can do that within your own family, it's a tremendous luxury. It has provided tremendous comfort and beauty," Adam said. As I read the opening of this article to my father for his feedback, I knew exactly what Adam meant.
Ryan Nadel is a Vancouver-based freelance writer and master's student at the Centre for Digital Media.
^TOP
|
|