Author Archives: ehwfram

About ehwfram

I am an artist living in Vermont, inspired by the day-to-day details of life.

Gathering Loose Threads Together

Several seemingly unrelated items have been swirling in my head since last time, their connections becoming more apparent as I write.

On a recent episode of the “A Brush With…” podcast, Ben Luke talks with Billie Zangewa, an artist who hand stitches imagery that straddles the line between the highly personal and decidedly universal. Having grown up in Botswana, now living and working in Johannesburg, South Africa, Zangewa’s goal is to challenge existing representations of Black women. Yet her brightly colored, intricate compositions of silk and stitching also explore overlooked aspects of many women’s lives (she refers to this as “daily feminism”). Her perspective is very relatable, especially to those who try to juggle a creative career with family and home life.

What I would have given to hear this podcast 20 years ago when I was always on the lookout for mentors who were able to balance motherhood with their art, without the benefit of hired help. So many young women are very successfully doing just that today; I am learning from them in hindsight. Yet even if that particular subject isn’t your concern, I think you too will enjoy listening to Zangewa ebulliently discuss her practice, her influences and her art.

Along the same lines of life and art overlapping, the other gem that grabbed me was a quote from the book Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell. If you haven’t read this novel (again, with a woman at its central axis point), put it on your list! I’ll let you discover its premise, but suffice to say it’s beautifully conceived and written, touching on a subject appropriate to our current time.

Maple Pecan Pie ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and Pencil on paper, 5 x 5 inches I couldn’t stop thinking about sketching while I cooked and baked for our Thanksgiving meal. My counters became an ever-evolving still life.

My greater point, though, is that a skilled writer can conjure images that are so relatable that even mundane impressions become solidly locked into place in new and elevated ways, leaving one marveling with a deeper understanding. For me, often immersed in the art of embroidery, the following analogy is brilliantly applicable to a variety of things that belie their surface appearance.

It is so tenuous, so fragile, the life of the playhouses. He often thinks that, more than anything, it is like the embroidery on his father’s gloves: only the beautiful shows, only the smallest part, while underneath is a cross-hatching of labour and skill and frustration and sweat.”

It makes one think of the proverbial duck who seems to glide across the pond, yet whose feet are furiously paddling beneath the surface, not unlike a busy mother. And, I can’t help but think of the work of Cayce Zavaglia, master embroiderer, who lately has been exhibiting the backs of her larger-than-life, super realistic embroidered portraits (versos) and her paintings of the same. Her intent is to highlight the “divergence between our presented and private selves”.

Sandra 5 (verso) ©Cayce Zavaglia,

With all the above said, this past Tuesday as I looked at the calendar I realized that this very week marks Eye of the Needle’s 7th anniversary of uninterrupted weekly, and for the past two years, bi-weekly posts. In fact, this is #315. I have always seen this blog as source of connection – both with the greater art world and with you.

But what I have come to most appreciate and to value about this practice (and I do think of it as a practice) is it has allowed me to be more deeply engaged in my day-to-day, paying closer attention to underlying connections which most often arise unexpectedly. In many respects, this is a space to pull those loose threads together. Through the act of writing I become more cognizant of what I think and feel about the many, often humdrum things which somehow end up influencing my ideas, and in turn manifest themselves in what I make. And that is really the meat of this particular post. I hope that by sharing my relationship with those moments, you too have had cause to reflect on new perspectives – or to reconsider old ones – in a fresh light.

Time for Regrouping

You gotta love a sense of completion!

For the past several weeks I’ve been chipping away at a watercolor group portrait commission that came out of the blue. Best done in steady, measured sessions, it has been the perfect mix of challenge and, in the end, satisfaction. Now that it is en route to its new owner, I’m relieved, excited and frankly a bit spent.
I’m sorry not to be able to share pictures with you here – at least for a while – as it’s meant to be a Christmas surprise.

But what I can share with you is the color test sheet I used along the way. It’s not exactly a thing of beauty but it still has a certain charm. If the paper hadn’t already had something on the back I would have squared it up and used it for the note I include when sending a piece off to its new owner. I guess that’s an idea I’ll have to remember for the future.

Now that the painting is out of the studio, I’ve been working around the edges of other business-y chores while getting back up to speed. And frankly, I’m glad for a bit of a break. For the most part I’ve been becoming reacquainted with my mat cutter, submitting to a couple of shows, and starting the planning process for 2022. Did you realize that there are only 6 weeks left this year?

©2021 Elizabeth Fram Walnut ink on paper, 5 x 8 inches While Quinn may be the one who’s actually logging the zzzz’s, taking some time with my sketchbook makes for a relaxing and satisfying mid-day break from the computer for me.

I know this is not the stuff of which inspiring posts are written, but I think it’s worth sharing all the same. There is much that goes on “behind-the-curtain” in any studio — necessary tasks that aren’t glamorous, but which need regular time and attention and are just as crucial as the drawing and the stitching. Plus, I think it’s important to recognize how necessary it can be to regroup before jumping back into the making again.

See this for more resources on artistic business practices.

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While I haven’t had much time to explore it yet, Sarah Homfray’s YouTube embroidery channel looks like a wonderful place to learn — whether you are a beginner or an expert.

Testing, 1-2-3

The thing about Shibori is it can be both mentally invigorating and relaxing, often at the same time. I’ve been looking forward to this week’s work, knowing I’d have the stimulation of a puzzle paired with the soothing calm of stitching row upon repetitive row of running stitches.

Quick notations capture possibilities and remind me of fleeting ideas

In teasing out an approach for the dyed background of my “letters from home”, I’ve thought of plenty of possibilities. The overall goal is to find an idea that is generally repeatable, yet with enough elbow room for variations that will allow each piece to hold its own among the others in the series.

I keep even the smallest amounts of dye on hand so that I can make mini-samples on the fly. For the process of Ori-nui, the cloth is folded and stitches are made parallel and close to the fold. It’s a good way to achieve definition. I felt the stitches I’d made in this sample were too far from the fold, so I adjusted that distance in my final, full-scale sample.

I also have to keep in mind how the embroidery-to-be will fit, so that it doesn’t become lost against the color and pattern of its dyed background.

Once I get to the stage of sewing the resist stitching, I can settle in and relax. Where to stitch, what direction those stitches will take, and where the knots will be placed have all been decided. So there’s nothing to do at this point but listen to a book or podcast and get to work.

It’s all well and good to jot down options in a sketchbook, but it isn’t until the needle actually pierces the cloth that reality sets in and decisions/questions begin to crop up in earnest. Should the striations of pattern all go in the same direction – or perhaps oppose each other? How best to keep a crisp line between areas of pattern and open spaces of dye? Can I balance those two while keeping in mind that the third crucial element of the embroidered imagery will be added later?

With the stitching complete, the fabric is ready to soak and then all the threads will have to be drawn up tightly and knotted before beginning the dye process.

An example of the many things to think about: an often overlooked characteristic of Mokume stitching is that even the point where one chooses to begin a row of stitching can impact the final appearance. I am quite fond of the little white dots left un-dyed by the knots at the end of my stitching thread, so I try to work out ways to incorporate them that will enhance the piece without distraction. It’s worth noting that beyond contributing added visual “zip” for those who look closely, those tiny spots are also a reminder that this process is very much hand-made.

Admittedly they are very subtle, but I think the marks left by the knots at the end of my thread elevate the pattern as a whole, so I try not to hide them if possible.

Last but not least, at this early stage everything must be worked within a pre-determined finished size to accommodate framing.
So yes, lots to think about and I have my work cut out for me. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

And there you have it – the finished, dyed piece. The dye came out a bit like the Northern Lights, don’t you think?

If I go with a 12 x 12 inch final dimension as originally planned, this is about where it’ll end up.

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Most of our fall yard chores are now complete, crowned, as always, by the all-important planting and securing of the garlic under its snug winter cover of leaves and burlap.
Time to get ready for garden dreaming in hibernation season by turning to books. After reading the article I mentioned in my last post, I picked up David Culp’s The Layered Garden from the library for his ideas on how to bridge the seasons in your garden. My favorite example of this idea is Jack Lenor Larsen’s Red Garden at the Longhouse Reserve.

I have a beautiful red twig dogwood and tend to leave areas of echinacea and bee balm for visual interest against the snow (and any late foraging birds). But I wonder what other ideas Culp might have. I was rewarded this morning, waking up to a frosted landscape that reminded me just how lovely every season can be.

Frost

Small Plates

To me, the half the fun of tapas – or a pre-Covid cocktail party with lots of different appetizers – is the variety of small plates one can sample. Most weeks, my time in the studio mirrors that approach – a little bit of this and a little bit of that filling up the hours. In that spirit, here are a few so-called “tastes” of what’s been swimming in my head these past couple of weeks.

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First, my big news is that the Fall Issue of the Surface Design Journal is now out. Every autumn SDA publishes an International Exhibition in Print. This year’s show, “From Confrontation to Catharsis,” feels both relatable and personal. The diverse scope of work exhibited addresses many of the overwhelming challenges of 2020. As I read each artist’s statement, the word that often comes to mind is “fragile”. So much of the work is a commentary on fragility: of our systems, our planet, our connections, our history, and even our human-ness.

SDA Journal Page

However, in viewing the show, one can’t help but also be reminded that there is empowerment and strength in expression, and as such there is an underlying sense of hope that resides with these works.
I am gratified and honored that “Until the Bitterness Passes”, one of my shibori houses from last year, was selected to be included.

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It’s Inktober!
While I haven’t followed every prompt set out this year, I have enjoyed interpreting of a handful of them. Here are just a few.

Another perk of the project is it’s great for filling up those last few straggling pages in one’s sketchbooks.

I have 4 different colors of ink on hand and Inktober has been an opportunity to experiment with them — supplementing with a tiny bit of watercolor when a different color is needed.

It also gave me an excuse to go ahead and purchase my new favorite under-$10 art supply (does one really need an excuse to buy art supplies?): a porcelain petal palette. It’s a great tool for mixing numerous values of ink all at once.

Porcelain Petal Palette

Oh, and speaking of cheap supplies, check out my new water jug! It’s a creamer that I found and snapped up this summer for just this purpose – also less than $10. The spout is brilliant for wiping the extra water off one’s brush before dipping it back into the ink. Now I wish that I’d also gotten the creamer from the black set since I usually have two water containers going at once, one for dirty and one for (relatively) clean water.

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Meanwhile, I’ve been puzzling my way through the shibori/embroidered “letter from home” I showed you last time. Surprisingly, the mussel shell was a snap to realize, but figuring out what to do with the envelope has been an unexpected challenge (lots of stitches sewn and then picked out). Next post I’ll write more about my discoveries and process along the way, but in the meantime I have some experimenting to do in order to figure out how to approach the dyed pattern in relation to the central shape – as well as what overall finished size/shape to use.

©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk, approx. 12 x 16 inches I think I’m going frame this one like this. Allowing the area without pattern to show provides a much needed sense of balance to the piece as a whole.

Framing will be part of that consideration. Unlike in this piece, which I dove into without finished dimensions in mind, I need to plan ahead so I don’t back myself into a corner.

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I get a lot out of James Cleary’s 3-2-1 Newsletter; it’s a short and sweet shot in the arm each Thursday. The list below was particularly resonate. Maybe for you too?

How to Build a Career in 7 Steps:
1. Do great work
2. Share it publicly
3. Cold email people 2 steps ahead of you
4. Talk about your work and trade ideas
5. Host events and meet in-person
6. Become friends
7. Rise together

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I get just as much of a lift from the beauty of my garden in fall as I do in spring and summer. While the colors are a bit more nuanced, they’re just as striking. Did you happen to read the NYTimes article “Take a Walk in the Garden Before It’s Too Late“?

With that in mind, my Instagram recommendation this time is @pottersarms, whose images of flowers, often in various states of decay, are quite lovely and somehow momentous.

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And finally, to bring you full circle, the next time you’re in Asheville, NC consider a meal at Cúrate – a tapas bar that will satisfy any yen for delicious variety.

Letters From Home

©Thomas Dambo at the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

Among the many highlights of our trip to Maine last month was a visit to the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens in Boothbay. It’s a wonderful place, whether you’re a plant enthusiast or not.

©Thomas Dambo at the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

Thomas Dambo’s larger-than-life trolls, dubbed The Guardians of the Seeds, pushed this year’s visit into the realm of the magical. If you’re headed in that general direction, they are definitely worth a detour!

©Thomas Dambo at the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

Aside from enjoying the change of scene that comes with any vacation, I find being in a new environment has a tendency to shake fresh ideas loose, allowing them to rise to the surface. This trip was no exception. I had a bit of a forehead smacking moment when I realized that the iconic house shape I’ve been using over the past year is the same as an open envelope’s silhouette. Talk about a lightbulb moment! It looks like my work for the fall is now laid out for me.

House / Envelope

Many things represent my idea of where I grew up, and in combining some of them with the merged house/open envelope shape, I’m imagining the possibilities of a series of “Letters from Home”.

What better way to kick off the series than with a mussel shell, one of the more common sights on any rocky Maine beach? They served as foraged butter dishes for our lobster picnics, and I have collected more than my fair share of them over the years because of their purple-y color.

Working with those deep blues and purples has been pure pleasure this week; colors that vibrate against the red and orange of this shibori-dyed shape – originally intended as a house, now both house and envelope. What began as an experiment for carrying a symbol forward, now feels a bit like kismet, pushing the idea of home in a very personal way.

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Update:
I mentioned at the end of August that I’d let you know once the recording of the artists talk “Signify: A Conversation About Meaning and Technique” (a Zoom discussion I participated in surrounding this summer’s exhibition Hidden Messages: Old and New) was available for viewing. As promised, here is the link. I’ll warn you, it’s an hour long – so grab your beverage of choice. I think you’ll find the conversation interesting, down to earth, and in good humor.

Welcome Fall!

My kids might not be that amused, but back in the day I used to get a kick out of Staples’ “The most wonderful time of the year” commercial. Aside from the obvious, it struck a chord because, no matter how old I get, I doubt I’ll ever outgrow the feeling that September is a time of fresh beginnings, carrying with it the possibility and excitement of learning.

Marty ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Ink and watercolor on paper, 11 x 8 inches What used to be the Sktchy app is now called “Museum by Sktchy“. It’s billed as “an unlimited supply of portrait subjects right in your pocket” and is a great resource for practice.

This year is no different. The availability of so many online learning platforms makes it incredibly easy and convenient to explore all sorts of art disciplines. I took advantage of Labor Day bundle pricing and bought several courses that will feed both my stitching and drawing needs throughout the fall.

A number of the instructors I’ve “studied” with in the past are artists whose work I had followed through Urban Sketchers and Instagram, so I was familiar with the quality of their ideas and process. And while I’m a huge fan of books, a video format has different advantages. True, it’s not the same as being part of an in-person group, but you still have the ability to ask questions, get feedback, follow your own timeline and, in most cases, have access to your classes “forever”.

Below are the 3 platforms I’ve had experience with and the type of classes I’ve taken with them. There is much more to choose from than what I’ve listed here, so do some research to see what you might find that appeals to your needs.

Domestika – Drawing, Painting, & Embroidery
This is my current favorite — for the quality of the content, presentation and instructors. Founded in Spain, Domestika is now headquartered in San Francisco. I find the fact that most of the instructors are internationally based to be an advantage since they bring something slightly different to the table by virtue of their home culture. With that in mind, you should be aware that many of the classes are not presented in English and as a result rely on subtitles.
Sktchy Art School (no, that’s not a typo) – Drawing, Making natural inks, & Anatomy
The anatomy course was especially good and this is a case where the video format really shines. There are tons of books available on the subject, but I found it particularly helpful to follow along as the instructor used Procreate to uncover and describe layers of bone, muscle and skin, highlighting their affect upon each other. She explained, both verbally and through drawing, how all those elements work together, while providing guideposts to keep in mind for my own drawing.
Sktchy classes also include international instructors who, to my knowledge, all speak in English.
Craftsy – Sketching & Perspective
I think this may have been one of the first online art class apps available and I was very pleased with the courses I chose. But beware: this platform has changed to a subscription format and for that reason I’m no longer interested in their offerings — but that’s just me. I do still have access to the classes I bought before the change.

A quick search online came up with many more options (check the links listed below). I’m sure you can find pretty much whatever you might want if you dig around.

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If you missed this post about “Numina” on Colossal and could use a dose of pure “fantastic”, check out this brief video about Meow Wolf’s latest – more than 70 installations by 300 artist across four floors. Kind of makes one’s heart beat faster with a sense of happiness and hope.

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On a completely different note….
Soon after moving to Vermont I met Dianne Shullenberger, who is easily the most generous artist I have ever known. Our friendship has been an ongoing source of joy and mutual support ever since. Over the years I have watched as she has pushed forward with her own work while never failing to reach out to bolster me and many others on our own creative journeys. When Dianne asked if I would be willing to help her spread the word about an upcoming event she’s planning in anticipation of flipping the page to a new chapter in her life, I gladly said yes.

Spring Rush ©Dianne Shullenberger, 13 x 20 inches, 23 x 30 framed

Please visit Dianne’s website to take in the beauty of her fabric collages and colored pencil drawings, all of which are grounded in her love of nature and the atmospheric details of specific places. She will be having a Moving Sale during Vermont Open Studio Weekend on October 2 & 3, from 10-5. She is offering a 20% discount on all work over $500. Please feel free to contact her before Open Studio to set up an appointment to visit her gallery or to discuss any work that has caught your eye. You can reach her via email: vtdianne@hotmail.com or phone: 802-899-4993

Breathing Deeply

Working on the stitched watercolor garden pieces this summer has been just the break I had hoped for while simultaneously opening the door to new explorations. It’s been like taking a deep breath. There’s nothing quite as fun (or as good a stretch for the brain) as pushing toward some sort of new evolution and seeing where those explorations might lead.

Rounding the Bend ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and stitching on paper, 5 x 5 inches. I haven’t posted new pieces from this series since the beginning of July. Time to catch you up! You can revisit all the pieces on my website.

Coincidentally, in catching up on older podcasts, I recently listened to Alice Sheridan and Louise Fletcher of Art Juice talk about “Kickstarting Creativity by Taking a Break”. That doesn’t necessarily mean taking a rest from making art altogether (although it could), but rather creating an interruption by switching gears to something different.

Having now returned from their month-long respite, it’s worth listening to their follow-up episode, “A Time for Reflection”, as they discuss some of their realizations from their time away.

It’s an honest conversation about an artist’s life, dipping into elements and responses that are familiar to all of us.

For my part, I’m grateful for the sense of camaraderie that comes when others share about issues we may have in common. At the end of the day we’re all just trying to make a go of a creative life – why not travel together?

In considering my own, shall we say, intermission from the work of last year, not only has the painting itself been equal parts challenging and rewarding, but the incorporation of the embroidered houses has provided a welcome sense of grounding and continuity while still allowing me to find new ways to play around with the idea of something “hidden in plain sight”.

I’ve completed a dozen of these little stitched paintings to date and expect to keep going in some form or another. I took a first stab at what moving beyond the “safety” of the houses might look like in this little close-up of my daughter’s Maranta leuconeura. The question that is floating around in the back of my head now is how might I let the stitching on paper branch into portraits.

Basically, texture is at the root of my interest. It’s the textural effects of the stitching, together with the visual texture of the paint on paper, that most intrigues me.
Meanwhile, I’ve begun a new shibori piece and expect to be back at my frame embroidering on cloth in earnest, just as soon as the dyeing is complete.

Asking the Right Question

How often have you found that just the right question will snap an idea into perspective?

Last week, during our Zoom panel discussion “Signify: A Conversation about Meaning & Technique”*, which was based on the current exhibition Hidden Messages: Old and New, our moderator, Leslie Roth, posed a meaningful question (among many). She asked the 3 of us on the panel whether our perception of our work shifts as a result of seeing it in a new environment or context, or in the way it interacts with its surroundings and other nearby art.

A few images from within the show to give you an overview

More than any other exhibit, I’ve been hearing very positive feedback from the other artists in this show regarding the placement of their work. Overwhelmingly, these folks, including the other two panelists, have mentioned that they felt their art had been elevated in some way by the other nearby pieces, acknowledging the expertise that had gone into creating groups of art that work well together and, one might even say, in conversation with each other.

However, I have a bit of a contrarian view — not because I wasn’t happy with how my pieces, or the show as a whole, were hung — far from it! I think those responsible did a superb job. But because, at the core, I don’t tend to engage with my (or others’) work in relation to its surroundings when on display. When I look at art it’s a sink or swim game — the work either shines or it doesn’t. I am drawn directly into each individual piece, studying and appreciating it by and for itself, without consideration of its neighbors in that opinion.

Of course I wouldn’t be pleased if I felt my work had been placed so that it was somehow given short shrift, but aside from that, I can’t imagine or remember an instance where I thought my work might read differently, in either a positive or a negative light, in relation to its neighbors within a gallery or other setting. And I also can’t remember a time when my opinion of another artist’s work was affected by the art nearby.

Wall 2

All that said, it’s crucial to acknowledge that Curation (with a capital “C”) is an art-form unto itself. Art doesn’t exist within a vacuum. As I see it, the important job of a curator is to create a sense of organization, context and logic around a grouping of seemingly disparate works within a single setting. Their expertise (and task) is to make it easier to navigate through all the work in such a way that each piece can be more fully appreciated and understood on its own merit. A curator’s skill is in making a show hold together as a unit, while providing room for each work to be seen in its own best light.
And the curators of Hidden Messages did that in spades.

For an interesting and at times humorous look at the idea of curation and how it is evolving, check this out.

There’s still time to go see Hidden Messages for yourself. The show runs until September 5th.
Chandler Center for the Arts
71 N Main St.
Randolph, VT
Hours: Tues – Fri 11am-4pm, Sat 12 -5pm
802-728-9878

Wall 3

*The “Signify” discussion was recorded and a link will be posted on the SDA website in the next weeks. I’ll be sure to let you know once that happens.

Gearing Up

After a hiatus of a year and a half, it looks as though our Life Drawing sessions will start up again in early September. Here’s hoping the rising variant numbers don’t interfere with that.

Supplies

In the meantime, I’ve been gearing up by getting back into practice mode and collecting supplies along the way. I’ve had plenty of time to experiment with new materials over the past 18 months, so my kit will be a little different from what it was when we last got together in March of 2020.

The biggest change will be paper. Be forewarned – this is a deep dive into options, probably best suited to those of you who draw.

Before the pandemic I had been using Canson Edition paper exclusively. It’s 100% cotton and acid-free with two deckle edges and two distinct sides, one smooth and the other slightly textured. It’s a good workhorse that accepts a variety of media. For my purposes, its greatest asset was in capturing the marks of my ultra fine (.03) graphite. The downside is it doesn’t show off colored pencil as richly as I might have hoped.

Scott, detail

This past year, working smaller & mostly in sketchbooks, I discovered several new options as I began working more with watercolor in addition to ink and graphite.

Stillman & Birn makes sketchbooks with eight different types of paper. The Beta Series is my favorite. It has a lot of great qualities: acid-free, bright white paper that handles ink and watercolor beautifully and, despite being cold press, has a surface that my pen seems to glide across effortlessly. Each page has some real heft (180 lb) so there is no rippling and it stands up to erasing without damage. Plus, it’s a good weight for stitching if, as with my garden paintings, I choose to go that route. Happily, it’s also available in 22 x 30″ sheets, giving me lot of flexibility with size.

I’ve also been experimenting with toned paper.
Strathmore 400 Series Toned Mixed-media paper (acid-free, 184lb, 9×12″ sheets) takes ink and other wet media well, while its smooth surface amplifies the marks of colored and pastel pencils the way I like.

Stillman & Birn Beige toned sketchbook, 8 x 10 inches

I also just bought, but haven’t yet tried, a Stillman & Birn Nova Series beige-toned mixed-media sketchbook. The 90lb paper will take ink and light washes, so I expect it will be good for general practice, as is my Global Hand Book sketchbook.

Bryan ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Graphite, ink and watercolor on paper, 11 x 8.25 inches. Global Art Hand Book Artists Journal. This paper is also able to take a light wash, but note the rippling on the right, captured when I scanned the image.

Experimentation is half the fun, and it’s great to have a few new options. Whether or not we actually make it back to meeting in person – and I really hope we do – it’s exciting to think about as I get prepared.

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If you aren’t one of my newsletter subscribers (you can sign up here), you will have missed my notice that next week I will be participating in a panel discussion with 3 other artists who also have work in the ongoing exhibition Hidden Messages: Old and New, on Wednesday, August 18th @ 7pm. I hope you will join us – the details and link to registration are below.

Artists Talk

Signify: A Conversation about Meaning and Technique

will be moderated by Leslie Roth, with a panel of
Jennifer Davey, Marya Lowe, and yours truly.
The presentation is free and open to the public; register here.

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Instagram of the week:

It doesn’t have to be all about fancy, store-bought paper. Check out the work of @peter_rush_drawings. He often draws on the inside of cardboard packaging – a novel take on toned paper!

Flying the Coop

It was beyond wonderful to spend the past week in Berkeley and Chicago, and most importantly, to finally be with our kids for the first time in 18 months. Knowing we would be in two very art-friendly cities with re-opened museums, you can be sure I did my research ahead of time to see what might be on exhibit. Whether by pure coincidence or cosmic reward (I’ll go with the latter) our trip overlapped with four shows that seemed tailor-made for this art-seeking traveler. Kay Sekimachi “Geometries” and Rosie Lee Tompkins “A Retrospective” were on view at the Berkeley Art Museum Pacific Film Archive (BAMPFA). And then at the Art Institute of Chicago, we saw the remarkable Obama Portraits, along with “Bisa Butler: Portraits”.

As you might well guess, this will be one of those posts that is mostly images…enjoy the ride.

Kay Sekimachi: “Geometries”

From the wall text of the exhibition:
“Kay Sekimachi’s work is an integral part of the story of art and fiber. Along with other mid-twentieth-century artists, she transformed fiber from a material confined to industry and craft to one capable of expanding the categories of modern and contemporary art. For several decades this Berkeley-based artist has made experimental works with linear pliable elements that unite art and craft, economy and intricacy, and Japanese and American artistic traditions.”

Takarabako VII ©1999, Kay Sekimachi, Linen, acrylic paint & boning After a winter of making box-like houses, Sekimachi’s work struck me more deeply than it might have otherwise. According to wordhippo.com, Takarabako means “treasure chest” or “strong box”.

First recognized in the 1960s for her woven monofilament sculptures, Sekimachi is also known for her intricate baskets and bowls.

This small piece (about 12 x 12 inches) was one of a series of works made in homage to Paul Klee and Agnes Martin using linen, dye and indelible ink. The subtle nuances of color are lovely.

This vessel is made of kiri wood paper, a one or two-sided paper-backed veneer that is manufactured from the paulownia tree, called kiri in Japan. It is a fast-growing hardwood with light, fine-grained wood typically used for chests and boxes.

Rosie Lee Tompkins: “A Retrospective”

Born in 1936 in a small Arkansas farming community, Rosie Lee Tompkins learned to make quilts from her mother when she was a young girl, but did not begin making them professionally until the 1970s. Her work floored me for its strong sense of color and design. The frequent use of velvet added richness and depth without detracting from the sheer joy many of these pieces projected. The expanse of the museum’s walls gave each piece the room it needed to fully come into itself, while also allowing for a celebration of each quilt’s delightfully irregular perimeter.

All works were “Untitled”

This was by far my favorite for its joyful elegance.

Orange

What drew me across the room to this pair was Tompkin’s striking use of denim to express value.

Multi colored Tompkins

Although there weren’t details about specific pieces, the wall text gave clues to Tompkins’ overall approach, noting her later wall hangings are meditations on self, family and spirituality. Several works contain “yo-yos”, the number of which often corresponded to a personally significant number, like an age or relative’s birth month. One couldn’t help but notice that this piece was entirely black, almost shroud-like in appearance, as compared to the riot of color in all the other works.

The Obama Portraits

On a five-stop tour to museums across the country, from their permanent home at the National Portrait Gallery, Kehinde Wiley’s and Amy Sherald’s portraits of Barack and Michelle Obama are spectacular. They will travel from Chicago to Brooklyn, Los Angeles, Atlanta and Houston – so make a note if you’ll be in or near any of those cities.

I was struck by the diversity of people viewing these portraits, many emotionally moved or just plain giddy to be in their presence. You can download the free Art Institute app for an introduction to The Obama Portraits with commentary from artists Kehinde Wiley and Amy Sherald and curator Jordan Carter.

In addition to the portraits, other artwork related to the Obamas was also on view. Two that caught my eye were Jordan Casteel’s painting Barack, painted to accompany a 2020 interview with the former president in The Atlantic, and Alma Thomas’s A Red Display of Fall Leaves. The Obamas were the first White House residents to collect the work of an African American woman artist – Thomas’s Resurrection hung prominently in the Old Family Dining Room, and two more of her works were installed in the family’s private living area.

A Red Display of Fall Leaves ©1972 Alma Thomas This piece was made when Thomas was 81 – the same year she became the first African American woman to receive a solo exhibition at the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York

Bisa Butler: Portraits

One of the biggest perks of the pandemic was being able to attend Zoom artist talks that I never would have had access to before everything went virtual. Last March I listened to Bisa Butler give the 2021 Ruth Ketterer Harris Lecture at The Center for Design and Material Culture, University of Wisconsin-Madison. You can listen to it too. What a gift that the talk introduced me to Butler’s work, planting the seed to see this exhibition.

Anaya with Oranges, detail This shot gives a better idea of the detail work. Loved that a single sheer fabric with flowers was used to depict her hair.

If you made it this far, thank you — I hope you enjoyed these works as much as I did. And please let me know what exhibits you’ve caught now that we can venture out once again.