Letters of Note: Art

Think of this book as a gallery.

Better still, a private gallery that fits in your pocket, with no rules to speak of. Yes, you can touch the exhibits. Of course you can take photos with the flash on. And no, you are not required to speak quietly. On the walls of this gallery can be found thirty letters of note, all of which in some way shine a light on various moments in the history of art and illuminate them for your enjoyment; most, but not all, written through the ages by artists themselves artists who momentarily put down their pencils, their paintbrushes, their chisels, and instead put pen to paper to create the windows into the art world through which you are soon to look.

Like art so often can, some of these letters act as portals to a particular time and place. Just as Constables The Hay Wain immediately transports you to the River Stour beneath a cluster of clouds one calm day in the nineteenth century, so too shall war artist Paul Nashs bleakly harrowing missive to his wife drop you onto the hellish field of battle during World War I; and just as the broad, expressive brushstrokes of Rembrandts Self-Portrait somehow reveal so much about someone you have never met, so too will Italian painter Artemisia Gentileschis defiant letter to her patron, written at a time when she was simply not meant to succeed, paint a powerful picture of its determined author.

Additionally, just hearing the voice of an artist through their letters can be an odd and thrilling experience. I can vividly remember the time I was introduced to the correspondence of Salvador Dal, whose otherworldly paintings defy description his fantastical landscapes littered with scenes that play tricks on the mind, causing the viewing experience to become almost hallucinatory. Not for one moment did I imagine that his letters would provoke a similar reaction in me. Yet here was I, letter in hand, baffled and amused in equal measure by his seemingly random talk of stray breasts and nests of anaesthetized wasps, but delighted to hear his voice loud and clear in a different medium strangely comforted to feel his art pushing through the page.

Letters offer an artist a different creative outlet, and a means by which to discuss the final product they thrust out into the world. To be able to read about their process, their fears, their excitement, is an opportunity too valuable to ignore.

Having spent a considerable portion of my adult life obsessively sifting through the correspondence of others in search of the latest masterpiece, I am firmly of the belief that some letters can and should themselves be considered works of art invaluable, often culturally significant objects to be enjoyed and appreciated by as wide an audience as possible. Which is why, hanging on the wall to my left as I write, is a framed copy of Sol LeWitts incomparable letter of encouragement to fellow artist Eva Hesse, a piece of correspondence so impactful, thought-provoking and creatively stimulating that it also happens to close the book you now hold, each of its 800 words working as hard as the individual brushstrokes of any oil painting.