A visual artist of renown whose mixed media paintings and sculptures have been collected and exhibited in both private and public collections and museums worldwide, Marsha Glazière has yet another gift to share with us – that as a writer. In her memoir My Father, Picasso and Me, An Artist’s Journey of Resilience, Glazière is sometimes giving, sometimes questioning, sometimes advocating, and often “bad-assing” her way toward an intriguing life as a working artist. Glazière was influenced by her strong-willed, supportive grandmother and her equally strong-willed father, who yearned to have chosen art over medicine. Embracing deep angst toward Picasso, her father held significant sway in the author’s life. Holding the mirror up to family and herself, alongside ever-present beloved canine companions, Glazière’s memoir takes us on a wild and fascinating globetrotting joyride into her artist’s heart, mind, and spirit through her talented hands. The book is illuminated by thoughtful literary quotes and Glazière’s bold artwork, so mix up a martini and strap in for one uncommon journey.
— Deb Carson, Author of Becoming FLO…A Mostly True Story
Purchase paperback book and ebook at Amazon and select bookstores
and select independent bookstores
“The entire experience of being so close to my father’s discovery [about Picasso being a fraud] probably set the stage for me to be more objective in sorting out my own artistic preferences and, ultimately, distinctive direction. It’s never been a linear process. There have been many zigs and zags along the way, including doing battle with him when our viewpoints clashed.”
No matter what my father thought about art, or how overbearing he could be at home, or how he’d lead me through museum galleries talking incessantly about the paintings—attempting to educate me, I often turned a deaf ear— trying to tune out the biases he’d already instilled. It felt like Dad expected me to see through my ears, but to this day, when I see a painting by Corot, I always look for the ever-present spot of cadmium red in the landscape, which Dad assured me would always be there. He was right! I’ve sometimes borrowed Corot’s technique, adding cadmium red to create vivid contrast and make a landscape painting ‘pop.’
My creative process is a fusion of ideas and exploration—each painting presenting its own unique set of challenges and emotions that occur in a zone, something akin to meditation. Painting and dancing in the studio often take me to that exquisite zone, depending on the music playing in the background. I love what painter-assembláge artist Robert Rauschenberg had to say about making his art: “Painting is the best way I’ve found to get along with myself.”
For the most part, the personal stories and art by women artists remain obscure—with very few exceptions. I would prefer that my memoir focus more on my artwork than on me personally, but ultimately—aren’t they one and the same? I want to share what my creative process is all about—how my life experiences inform and invigorate my work. What keeps an artist (me) going for decades? How does an artist balance life’s mundane demands with the demands of creativity?”
