The Inexhaustible Spirit Of “Duende”
Lauren Mantecon, Phoenix Rising 40 x 36, oil on panel
My paintings are growing darker.
As I work, I witness the creamy whites on the surface turning into glazes of deep umber, Prussian blue, and sap green alchemizing the pigments into heavy blacks.
As I paint, I pass the time having conversations with myself.
This somberness will pass, I think to myself.
“But it’s not passing,” I say out loud.
You can’t force a different kind of feeling on command, I think again.
“But this is overpoweringly daunting!” I say out loud.
These acrobatics in my mind can go on for days. A lopsided gravity that feels like I’m being pulled down into a dark tunnel of molasses.
There is a whole mountain of external evidence I could give you to defend my behavior that I will not bore you with here.
But what is more important here is the disconnect and distance I feel from the source of my inspiration. What I can tell you is it feels like it originates from spirit, from a conduit above, floating down from the ethers of so-called heaven. The inspiration seems to be fading with every passing day.
I know all the things I should do, or could do. For example, sacred spiritual practices I have honed over the years that keep me sane and connected.
Yet here I am, making choices that have me staying up too late. Addicted to mechanical devices and eating potato chips for dinner.
While painting today, and drifting in and out of random thoughts, I remembered what a friend of mine recently said, “don’t forget Lauren; you are inexhaustible.”
I think I know what he meant. He was not talking about the inexhaustible energy from our will center. That is a kind of arbitrary command that the outer world holds in reverence. The “just do it!” Pull up your bootstraps cult of so-called sanity. He means the kind of inexhaustible energy that wells up from one’s deep center. The certain “IT” thing that pervades the soul. He was talking about what I often refer to as “Duende.”
Ahhh… Duende. Also known as, the magical dark.
Duende is a Spanish term for a heightened state of emotion and expression. The Duende is often connected to flamenco dance. “Duen De Casa” means master of the house and is a sort of daemon or local spirit.
Or, as my Mexican grandma would say, “It’s that little spirit that lives on your shoulder, an imp or an elf-like creature.” Sublime and haunting is Duende. Not here to do us harm, if you can learn to see in the dark.
Duende is not “woo woo.” It’s a serious matter and not for the faint of heart. But if willing to explore and surrender to its depth, you may just find the innate profound essence of passion, lurking in the crevices of one’s inner being. Duende gifts us if we can transmute our fears into inspiration. The kind of inspiration and passion from the well of our souls hidden in the underworld. When others witness this artistic passion their mouths drop and recognition of forms of otherworldly heightened artistic expression brings chills.
Here are a few examples of some artists you might recognize who seemed to harness Duende: Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Mark Rothko, Joan Mitchell, and Martha Graham.
Martha Graham is a perfect example of this when she choreographed the ballet: Death and Entrances in 1943. The piece takes its title from the Dylan Thomas poem of the same name. It’s a dark reflection on human suffering and grief. Deaths and Entrances is inspired by the lives of the three Brontë sisters and the struggles of women who follow their impulses in the face of convention and tradition. Graham stressed the meaning of the dancer’s gravitational pull down when she said, “the dancers fall so they may rise.”
Duende is like that. A flirtation with our own falls from grace and the impetus or reminders of what keeps us wanting to live. For a more cohesive understanding of Duende and artistic inspiration, I recommend Edward Hirsch’s book: The demon and angel Searching for the Source of Artistic Inspiration.
As I wrap this up, I shall leave you with this to ponder. A chapter in Hirsch’s book, Fending off the Duende:
“It seems clear why certain artists want to fend off the irrational splendors of Duende, sometimes to the detriment of their work, but for the sake of their sanity. And yet, one of the most notable characteristics of the deep song. The Duende shuns the middle way, and it avoids works of art that show too much emotional balance and tranquility, feelings tamed entirely to reason, to so-called common sense.”
Please leave responses and comments below and let us know your own thoughts on where your artistic inspiration comes from.
What do you take from the meaning of Duende?
Thanks for Reading,
