Poseidon's Horses

Artist's Statement


I have been creating the Poseidon's Horses series of drawings on several beaches of Whidbey Island, Washington, since July 2004.

My interest in the horse is deeply rooted in my difficult childhood. The death of my youngest brother at the age of seven marked the beginning of a compulsive horse drawing obsession that lasted for ten years. The image of the horse became a soothing and healing element that helped me, in part, to deal with this painful loss.

Although I do sketch horses from life, looking closely at their anatomy, my representation of them in these drawings is not strictly 'anatomical' but suggestive and at times elusive. In this body of work I associate the forms of the horse with both negative and positive aspects of the psychological struggle I have been engaged with for so many years. I translate these forms into shapes, which express a search for beauty in simplicity and naturalist clarity and juxtapose colors that strive to create both tension and serenity. Ultimately these shapes and their relationships with the other pictorial elements of each drawing turn the horse into a symbol of psychological freedom, personal renewal and growth.

Nature has fascinated me since I was a child. I was an amateur naturalist who used to collect plants, shells and rocks during my walks either n the beach or mountain trails. In particular, water is an element that truly brings me in close contact with nature unlike any other. It evokes my most exciting and serene childhood memories of summer holidays spent along the shores of the Mediterranean Sea and my more conflicting adult times spent on the beaches of eastern and western Scotland.

My Italian cultural background has its foundations on ancient Greek and Roman culture. It should not come as a surprise that I have decided to title this series of drawings Poseidon's Horses. Poseidon was the Greek god of the sea. He was also the god of horses. (The Romans called him Nettuno). In these drawings I convey my interest in mythological narrative where the boundaries of the physical and human worlds are not restricted by the conventions of scale, proportions and perspective.

Whidbey Island is located in a strikingly interesting geographical position. It lies north of the Puget Sound between the Northern Cascades and the Olympic mountain range, Mount Rainier and the San Juan Islands. From its public beaches, which are fortunately present in a good number, one can have different views of the relationship between these land-masses and the water of the 'tamed' Pacific Ocean.

I hike to and of the beaches. I collect the ocean scraps of shells, seaweed and other organic material left behind by the tide. I observe the passage of time with its changes of light and wildlife moods. I take notes and sketch what attracts my attention around me at that particular time. These are essential experiences for the creation of this body of work. This contract with nature fulfills my longing for peace and harmony.

In this way I gradually establish a 'meditative' relationship with my surroundings with reverie and wonder, as if I were a 19th century Romantic landscape artist. Then I prepare the paper by laying a light watercolor wash, rubbing it with sand or seaweed and sprinkling it with the salty water of the ocean. The sheet of paper becomes my personal empty ocean that I gradually fill with marks, shapes and lines using oil and soft pastels, charcoal, clear oil bar and pencil. A semiabstract seascape emerges. Here I create a fragmented world in which disparate elements are linked by my graphic language. In them I express my personal interaction with nature with the intention to puzzle the viewer by provoking more questions than answers.

Copyright © 2006 Betty Bastai. All Rights Reserved.