Anne Hudec: 'Innocence'.

This beautiful work by Anne Hudec is a heart stopper.

Anne's work was last featured on May 17, 2010 of the Fredericks Artworks blog and was recently the cover featured artist of Splash 11 and since then she continues to produce works which excite the imagination.

Innocence looks like a classical bronze statue of a figure out of Greek or Roman Mythology. Anne's palette is rich with bronze hues. Her little maid, has her eyes closed and this leads me to wonder what is going on within her interior landscape. Is she dreaming? Is she lost in thought? Her eyes and features are gentle and serenely, beautiful. Her smile is almost beatific and her features are loving.

Anne's point of contrast comes where she presents the smooth round, gentle facial features beneath a crop of chiseled locks. And the permanence and strength of these locks contrast with her flowing cape that lifts in the breeze.

Innocence looks on the surface like a bronzed statue with features that have been immortalized. Anne has captured a sense of timelessness in this world of transience and impermanence.


Artist's Comments:

The creation of this painting came in a most unexpected way, and was the most difficult piece I have ever painted. She came about after a time of great fear, worry, and exhaustion, and was a healing balm that helped give equilibrium to my life again. In 2005 my husband and I made a fabulous trip to the Dolomite Mountains of Northern Italy. The trip was spectacular, encompassing 8-10 hour days of hiking and climbing for an entire month. Upon our return home, my husband – and best friend – displayed flu symptoms which quickly escalated to the news that he had Leukemia. Our world crashed around us, and the reality of our situation seemed an even greater downfall considering how fit and healthy he was just two weeks before.
While my husband lay in Emergency, I went home that afternoon in shock, and packed for an indefinite relocation to Vancouver for his treatment. He was airlifted the next morning with me by his side, and I almost lost him the following day. And so began the struggle of both of our lives to battle this terrible disease in which only half the patients survive. Over the next five months, he fought a lung infection, and a muscle virus that put him into a wheelchair for three weeks. He braved the terrible chemotherapy that wracks your body with nausea and weakness, the bone marrow biopsies and spinal taps, the invasive tests and the blood transfusions. I was with him through almost every minute of his treatment – sleeping in a cot in gown, gloves, mask and goggles while he was in the isolation unit, setting 4 alarm clocks each night to give him round-the-clock pills and nursing him through fevers in our rented apartment when the Leukemia Department was full and the Emergency Ward overflowing. Five months passed and I am proud to say that my husband pulled through the treatment like a Trooper.

By the time we came home, he was so weak that he could not walk up 3 steps without stopping to rest. Life was supposed to become normal again. But – what is normal after such an experience? You realize that life really hangs by a gossamer thread, and your foundation has suddenly crumbled beneath you. It is difficult to trust all is well again, and to start making plans for the future when you have come to concentrate on surviving the day.

I paint to celebrate the joy in my life. My intentions are to express the positive aspects and beauty of the human being, and I hope that I can convey those thoughts to all who view my work. After such an event I needed to regain this joy after feeling like it had been steadily drained from me. I searched through my reference material, and came across the image that is now portrayed in this painting – coincidentally photographed in Paris – the city of love. It called to me; even though she was dark in colouration, her smile was slight and gentle, and her dimpled cheek and down cast eyes were innocent. Innocent of pain and fear, innocent of any cares or worries in the world. Her demeanor called out for me to paint her, yet her beginnings were a struggle to lay down. “Innocence” took several months to complete. Yet that time was healing and well spent, digesting the past, letting go of the fear, and looking forward to a future: a future that has been blessed with a healthy and happy husband by my side, and the inspiration to allow me to share the joys and beauty of life once again through my paintings

Please click here if you wish to see Innocence set in Anne's home surroundings.