Ebbtide
Painted
1993 in Miami Beach
Acrylic on canvas 30 x 24" (76 x
61 cm)
Text
by Jim Tommaney:
Pierre
Marcel's conjuring imagination has fashioned a stillscape,
strangely simple in it's associations. One thinks
of Shelly's Ozymandias, King of Kings, whose glory
has disappeared in the sands of the desert or of
the deep and impenetrable sadness of Don Quixote,
trapped in a world where idealism and chivalry are
little in demand demand.
The
Breakwater Hotel, bereft of patrons, sits like a
beached ship in shallow water. But the anchor gives
us hope, for at least it retains the edifice, prevents
it from joining other flotsam in a meandering journey
on the Gulf Stream. And the brilliant sky and serene
sea remind us of the timeless gifts of nature, hopefully
as permanent as the works of man are transitory.
T.S.
Elliot's "still point of turning a world"
has been captured in this placid seascape, where
nothing seems to happen, yet where the canvas resounds
with clarion calls of what was and what is yet to
be. Marcel speaks to the intuitive mind, by passing
the structure and deceit of logic, to haunt us with
truths that lie just outside our peripheral vision,
of reflections of events too startling to be witnessed
and music to strange to be heard. He gives us a
hint or two and is content to let our minds and
our imagination muse a while on his provocative
insights and spectacular executions.
The
sadness of loss and decay is an underlying theme
of this work, despite an image so seductive that
one wishes to be walking on that strand of beach
oneself. The plight of the Breakwater Hotel echoes
the ebb and flow of South Beach's fortunes, from
its original Art Deco renown, followed by economic
blight, and now to its current role as arena for
the glitteratti.
We
are left with a sense of humility, and of hope,
are aware of missed opportunities, but grateful
for the sun and the sand and the sea that combine
to make this corner of the earth what can only be
God's pilot plan for Paradise.
