When Amber and I first read Endgame, we were drawn to the compelling, often dark images of nature. The quote that influenced the direction of our project the most was simply this: “We’re not beginning to...to...mean something” (40)? Because Hamm and Clov have a few descriptions before this, about the ocean, the horizon, the grassy hills, and the grey surroundings always seen. It seemed to us that even now, during a pandemic, we begin to mean something when we observe and think based on our surroundings, rather than just letting life pass us by or consume us with fear during isolation. We must choose to see in this instance. Before, isolation seemed debilitating for the artistic mind. After all, no great work is made alone. However, we have found that during seclusion, it’s important to look towards nature; human nature; the natural environment around us; for we see ourselves through our surroundings. However, finding the glass to see through is something that requires effort to seek a world outside your walls. We interpret our surroundings differently depending on the state of the world and, therefore,the state of our minds as well. So the two of us went on a journey with Bob Ross. We decided to interpret nature with the ways we felt and compare them with one another. We used themes and images from Samuel Beckett’s play to inspire our starting place. Then, we compared our interpretations. Here are the results of our little experiment:
1 What in God’s name could there be on the horizon? (38)
The piece on the right is by Amber. She felt the painting reflected something more abstract and violent, like something uncertain and unknown, similar to the current pandemic. We don’t know all the details, but we do know that what we say and do creates a large affect. Jordan painted the piece on the left. Though at first it was unintentional, the waves crashing against the rock started to feel like great bursts of light, representing something different and colorful in a dark, purple sea. The characters are so often searching for light, wondering where it is and if there’s a point in looking for it. Jordan felt there was still hope, enough to create a splash.
2 The light is sunk.” (38)
On top, Jordan painted a piece, trying to incorporate small slivers of light in a massive grey setting. Clov shouting grey stuck out in her mind when creating this piece. Often it seems people are okay letting time pass, being lukewarm rather than being contemplative in negative or positive ways. It becomes easier to let apathy set in as a coping mechanism during isolation. She spent perhaps too much time with the grey and almost forgot to paint the green landscapes below, which is why she made some little islands instead, but hey, they were okay. Amber painted the piece at the bottom. It is much brighter than the one on top, with strong, contrasting colors. She wanted the mountains to be aesthetically pleasing rather than realistic, especially since these landscapes are so close to home. She felt that mountains were far more romanticized in her mind. She loves the bright yellow in the sky. She was struck by the way Clov and Hamm were always so concerned about their light dying and wanted to emphasize it in her painting and bring an image to the ideal they imagined outside their home.
3 If I could sleep… (25)
The painting on the bottom was made by Amber. She chose not to include a cabin, not only cause she “didn’t feel adequate” but also because the play is talking about what it would be like if nature took over without having any walls to confine any space of nature. Instead, she wanted to add another tree, painting it red. She felt that red was most strongly associated with humans. However, she wanted to incorporate the rarity of its occurrence in nature while also bringing light to the way humans could bring life to the environment. Jordan, with the painting at the top, chose to make a cabin subpar to Bob Ross’ cabin. However, she felt it was important in recognizing that even though human nature can look so distinct from the environment, it also still holds some kind of important existence, both good and bad. The cabin doesn’t have any windows, exemplifying how it can be easy to be blind to lush and hopeful, perhaps even overgrown nature that is taken for granted, trees and brush that surround us. Even though inside the cabin is dark, there is still something green that surrounds us. The ways we interpret nature determine what we create.
It was great to see how you two worked in parallel and then compared what you had created. This method of idea exchange is exciting, and it would be fun to talk to you both at more length. Hopefully the images can be uploaded soon so everyone can see your Bob Ross art.
I like your observation that “even now, during a pandemic, we begin to mean something when we observe and think based on our surroundings, rather than just letting life pass us by or consume us with fear during isolation.” Your work highlights observation, interpretation, and the creation of meaning in exciting ways.
You are both interested in the play/tension between light and darkness in your painting (i.e.…