War and Art

Being part of the military is an intense experience. Despite the time I served being less than 4 years in total, and never in an active combat zone, the things I witnessed and the things I did have affected me in ways that have lasted more than twenty years. I have some sad and some funny anecdotes from the various exercises, training missions and trips over seas. These stories go along with a handful of items, the artifacts and photos of that time in my life. These things bring memories and emotions along with them each time they come out of storage.

Memories when attached to pictures and small objects have a startling clarity. Even with clarity and a deep imagination, I fail to grasp the depth and connection of what the soldiers who served as part of the 23rd Headquarters Special Troops from WWII have when they look at their art.
I am behind the times catching up with the documentary showing the amazing work these artists, these engineers, these soldiers did under the undiluted pressure of the Nazi war machine. Knowing the load of stuff any soldier is asked to carry these true artists were also certain to have pen or pencil and paper with them too. Sketching the war, but also crafting an amazing deception.

If you are an artist and you think from time to time, “I just can’t work under these conditions” or “well, this would be a better picture if I had the right tools” you should definitely take a peek at these inspirational artists. Imagine this quote, “…we were sleeping in hedgerows and foxholes, but nothing kept us away from going someplace to do a watercolor…” They certainly worked under conditions most artists wouldn’t. Being a soldier and being an artist are not mutually exclusive pursuits.

Take the opportunity to catch the film The Ghost Army, I highly recommend it.

Other Links:

PBS

The Atlantic

My Father Wore Rainbow Suspenders

“Oh captain, my captain”

I clicked “like” on the post. Those were the only words there. I hadn’t seen or heard anything else related – I just knew the quote and had always enjoyed it. Always, as if there was never a time when I didn’t know a show or movie that involved Robin Williams. To a certain degree this is true. Mork and Mindy came on the air when I was 8. It hit just the right nerve or wavelength or something. It worked. Crazy, funny, alien.

Since then, you know the list: Dead Poets, Good Will Hunting, Aladdin, Good Morning Vietnam. Even the others that weren’t as popular: Club Paradise, Flubber, Hook. I’ll admit I probably reached a point where I took his stage presence for granted. Perhaps even thought, “can’t he do something that isn’t his manic ranting…” from time to time. Funny thing about that – he did. He was in just tons of things. He crossed generations as an entertainer. My daughter knows him as the voice of the genie. Most profoundly, my dad knows him as Mork. I don’t recall any conversations my dad and I may have had about TV over the years – out taste in entertainment / media are about as far apart as they can be – but Robin Williams as a performer crossed that huge gap. The title is true. My dad wore rainbow suspenders.

I am more saddened than I expected. The passing of somebody I’ve never met who lived a life so far from my own and so foreign to my way of thinking, yet he was always there. He’s been a force on television and in the movies for as long as I can recall. Robin Williams touched so many lives. He will be missed.

Mork