Category Archives: Exhibitions

How December’s Patterns are Different, Yet The Same

Now that December has arrived, do you have an end-of-year strategy to close out 2020?
Mine tends to evolve each year, but the general pattern is to devote time over the next weeks to looking back in order to take stock of what worked, what didn’t, and to figure out a game plan for 2021.

I got a leg up on my December tasks due to some unexpected household maintenance last week that led to a deep clean and minor reorganization of my studio. While I do a decent job of keeping up with cleaning chores around our house, my studio is something of a different story. Ironically, it’s where I spend most of my waking hours, yet it’s the one area where I routinely ignore accumulating dust and clutter. However, I’m feeling pretty good about finally reaching the back corners with the vacuum this past weekend and clearing out a bunch of the unnecessary stuff that has been building up. For these few moments I can say: “clear space = clear mind”, but let’s be real — things will go back to normal in no time.

As I begin to revisit the past 11 months, 2020 has counterintuitively been a busy exhibition year in spite of COVID. Happily, that trend hasn’t let up; I will have work in two shows that will span the cusp of the old and new years. That means, in addition to my annual December close-out check list, I am attending to business as usual.

The first of these shows is an online exhibit entitled Wild Things; it can be viewed now on the website of the Cultural Center of Cape Cod (MA). Online exhibitions aren’t new for the CCCC. They proudly claim their international calls for submissions and juried exhibitions as an integral part of their mission to support artists — complementing and extending their physical galleries on the Cape. It is an honor that my octopus piece, “Caught Red-Handed”, was selected to share company with such truly amazing work. If you are an animal lover, you will find this show particularly engaging in its range of media and styles.

Closer to home, I couldn’t be happier that five of my “selfie project” pieces were invited to be included in Unmasked: Artful Responses to the Pandemic. It will be an in-person exhibition, open from January 16 – March 28, 2021 at the Southern Vermont Arts Center in Manchester, VT. It is very gratifying that these drawings are getting out into the wider world since they are such a strong marker of what this past year has been for me.

All of that said, none of this would be possible without the galleries and venues across the country that have forged ahead during this crazy year, finding creative ways to continue bringing art to the public while coping with COVID and its uncertainties. Their constancy stresses the point that things are different, yet the same. In expressing my gratitude on Instagram, I was quite touched by the Cultural Center of Cape Cod’s response: “Without artists we are merely walls”. Those sentiments drill home the truth that we are all in this together… and it surely feels good to be part of the team.

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And now for a special treat.
As a coda to this past summer’s Sheltering in Place project at the Highland Center for the Arts, exhibit curator/creator Hasso Ewing, her husband Bob Hannan, and son Seamus Hannan have created and produced a truly wonderful video which conveys the atmospheric magic the exhibit brought to viewers during an uncharted and anxious time. It is quite lovely and unique — please enjoy.

The Light And The Dark Of It

Before I begin, the Grange Hall Cultural Center is hosting an in-person exhibition called DWELL. Sixteen artists’ responses to living during a pandemic will be on view, including my piece “Cocooned #2”. Visit by appointment from September 24 – October 24 (see contact info below). COVID precautions will be in place (no more than 5 people in the gallery at any time). If you’re in the area, please plan to visit — and don’t forget your mask!

Dwell poster

Now, for the “light”…

On our recent stay-cation, we visited a spot that has been on my list for years but, for whatever reason, I hadn’t been to yet. As long as it isn’t pouring rain, just about any day – in any season – would be a great time to go check out this gem. The beautiful, sunny September morning of our visit was perfect.

Please go to the Bundy Modern’s website for lovely pictures of the gallery in all seasons

The Bundy Modern of Waitsfield, VT was built in 1962 in a lush natural setting with mountain views. The structure itself, designed by Harvard GSD architect Harlow Carpenter, is a wonderful example of the Bauhaus style and is an unusual treasure for central Vermont.

Zeus ©1966 Paul Aschenbach, Sorten Steel, 20 feet. The lighting of my photo was so bad that the best and only way to show this striking sculpture was to convert the photo to black and white. Even though it was unintentional, I think the contrast between the hard sculpture and the trees and sky in the background make for an interesting duality that wasn’t immediately apparent in the color version.

Conceived as an art and sculpture gallery, it presents a unique intersection between the modern and contemporary artwork that is displayed within the building and on the grounds, and what is “an unusually pure example of modern architecture”.* The natural surroundings play as strong a role as the art and the building that sit within them, making for a truly exceptional visual experience.

Triforms ©1965 Fred Pallini, Steel, 96 inches. What I loved most about this piece is that it seemed that it was made of textile rather than steel. There is a lightness (almost pillow-like) and a visual tactile quality to this sculpture that I find very appealing.

Current owners, Wendell and June Anderson, are doing a marvelous job as stewards of Carpenter’s vision while bringing exciting contemporary art to our area. Put a visit on your list, if you haven’t already.

And now for the “dark”…

To date, the COVID houses I’ve been making have skewed toward the optimistic in my search to find and express a sense of hope and positivity in the midst of this pandemic. But as the months have worn on, I haven’t been able to ignore the bleaker aspects of these times.

My latest two pieces lean toward this darker direction. I don’t consider myself a political artist, but there is catharsis in creating a fuller picture of what is happening now and in striving for empathy.

Swirl of Fire, alternate view

Perhaps a sense of fellowship / camaraderie / community is the best and most hopeful of what we have to offer each other. With that in mind, I came across two sources of interviews that have brought some light to my reading, and perhaps they will for you as well.

#artinthetimeofcovid – MetroFrame Blog Conversations with artists regarding how they are navigating their practices during COVID
Pat Lowry Collins’ Aging and the Creative Process (click the menu bar to access the interviews)

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And finally, a story:

I got to know Walter at the Vermont Studio Center a couple of years ago when our studios were across the hall from each other. He doesn’t live close, but close enough that we manage to get together from time to time. Obviously that stopped with the virus.

When I asked for a selfie for my project, Walter sent a couple. But this one, with his dog Pepper, whom he had lost unexpectedly this summer, captured an endearing moment that anyone who has a pooch in their life will recognize immediately.

*quoted from the Bundy Modern website

the Sheltering in Place project

It was a fun privilege earlier this week to help hang/place, amid a forest of willow branches, the little shelters that are the heart of the Sheltering in Place project now on view at The Highland Center for the Arts in Greensboro. Granted, when I left, the set-up wasn’t absolutely complete so I didn’t get to experience the full effect with special lighting and recorded haiku written specifically for the show. But I can confidently tell you that it is going to be a magical exhibition.

SiP Evite

The show will be open to the public by reservation only. Check the HCA website for information about their COVID-19 protocol for the building and the installation. Sadly, there will be no reception or artist talks due to obvious concern about large gatherings at this time. But truthfully, the work speaks for itself and perhaps savoring it in relation to your own sheltering experience will be the most meaningful way to enjoy it.

Relative Distance ©2020 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk, with foraged twigs, 9 x 6 x 6 inches. The above image is to jog your memory so you can keep your eyes peeled for my piece in the show. If ever there was a testament to professional photography, this is it. Thank you Paul Rogers Photography

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Meanwhile, I’ve enjoyed spending time drawing our friends and neighbors up the street. An added bonus is that they took these photos on May 11th, recording our late spring snowfall. Karen’s sense of humor about being long-overdue for a haircut added to the fun of trying to capture her.

For whatever reason, Alan’s image was harder to nail down (my fault, not his). It was a challenge to balance the shade and reflected light under the brim of his hat. However, pushing into mixed-media by adding watercolor and white ink eventually got me over the hurdle.

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One final note before wishing you a happy holiday weekend:
I tend to collect quotes gleaned from my reading, but since I don’t have any specific place to keep them, they are always a lovely surprise to come across again when I’m sifting my way through old daybooks or stacks of paper that build up on my desk. I thought I’d leave you with this one from David Hockney as an offering of hope in the midst of all our uncertainty. Keep it in mind if and when you go to see the Sheltering in Place project.

I have always believed that art should be a deep pleasure…there is always, everywhere, an enormous amount of suffering. But I believe my duty as an artist is to overcome and alleviate the sterility of despair…New ways of seeing mean new ways of feeling… I do believe that painting can change the world. ~David Hockney

Keeping Eyes Front

I’m still experiencing a lift from spending the day on February 15th with other members of the Surface Design Association, in conjunction with the opening of Threaded: Contemporary Fiber in New England at the Mosesian Art Center in Watertown, MA. Organized by the MA/RI chapter, the day was a welcome opportunity to network and to meet the artists behind names both familiar and unknown. The program included a panel discussion that covered a broad scope of subjects and numerous issues surrounding the way textile art and artists are navigating and maintaining a foothold within the art world at large. A 20 x 20 PechaKucha consisting of 8 presenters was also included.

Left top, bottom, & right: “Espresso and Peanut Butter”, Elizabeth Fram, “Rainbow Baby”, Kara Patrowicz, & “Winter Sea”, Jeanne Sisson

One of those presentations in particular has stayed with me. During her brief address, Stacey Piwinski talked about her experience at the Vermont Studio Center which, in addition to her individual work, included welcoming other artist residents to assist her in creating large-scale weavings. Stacey’s irrepressible warmth and enthusiasm permeated her presentation, making it easy to see why she had no trouble filling the time slots on her volunteer sign-up sheets. Her 20 slides palpably conveyed the fun and humor that everyone shared while working with her on this project.

©2020 Elizabeth Fram, approximately 12 x 12 inches, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk. I was invited to exhibit my work at the Vermont Visitor’s Center in Montpelier in October. I have been thinking about compiling a series of pieces that suggest the four seasons. Maple leaves are about as iconic as it gets in representing both Vermont and autumn.

Having created a very large loom by stringing a warp onto nails that were hammered directly into her studio wall, Piwinski and each volunteer would sit side-by-side on stools to weave. The element that most moved me about this collaborative process was her description of how it developed into an opportunity to create community. Stories were shared back and forth with her volunteers, generating a sense of connection between disparate people. With all eyes directed to the work before them, talk flowed and personal links were forged. The resulting weavings became a manifestation of that connection.

This framework reminds me of the wisdom that you have no doubt heard or experienced: one is much more likely to have a meaningful conversation with a teenager while driving in a car, when all eyes are directed forward at the road rather than toward each other. This phenomenon doesn’t have to be isolated to teens, as another artist suggested earlier in the day.

There is a healthy representation of activist artwork in the Threaded exhibition, and talk of the current political climate, paired with the role of politically motivated artwork, was a topic of the panel discussion. Art plays a crucial role in voicing issues, but how can it take the next step, ideally pushing forward beyond solely communicating the problems?

The artist I referred to above has been thinking a great deal about this dilemma. She commented on the strong divide within her state which leans liberal in the urban centers while slanting heavily conservative in the more rural outreaches. The overriding question she poses is how to get those of contradicting convictions to see each other as more than just “the opposite side”.

©2020 Elizabeth Fram, approx. 12 x 12 inches, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk. Initially I planned on keeping these pieces small (8×8″), but now I’m wondering about framing them larger, so that the circle/burst of dye is obvious. What do you think?

Her thoughts on trying to bridge the divide circles back to the idea of community while relying on the talking-with-your-teen-in-the-car theory. As a basket-maker, she ponders the possibilities that might arise through workshops purposefully located so as to draw people of differing viewpoints together to learn her art. Practicing the rudimentary process of coiling a basket, attendees would share in the experience of tackling the intricate technicalities of a new skill, with their eyes and concentration centered on their hands and work. Working alongside each other, the playing field is leveled and chances for confrontation might well be lessened. And hopefully, as Stacey Piwinski discovered through her project, a door might slowly open for talk and shared stories, optimally uncovering and highlighting commonalities while potentially chipping away at strongholds of difference.

The thought that has consumed me since the conference is that change begins at the roots, not from lofty heights. And most importantly, we all need to try to promote environments that lay the groundwork for empathy and kindness. And just perhaps, art is a worthy means for doing that and for taking the next steps.

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And for this week’s amusement:

A fresh take on the Little Free Library
Heading to Paris? Add this to your list!

Who’s Manipulating Whom?

There’s no point in debating whether cell phones are a wonder or a necessary evil; they’re just a fact of life that isn’t going to change. But I will say I admire those who manage to walk the line between taking full advantage of their mobile’s assets while still maintaining the upper hand over it. And I’m even more intrigued when someone figures out how to use the pervasiveness of our phones, and our behavior with them, to artistic benefit.

No question, I count on my phone’s camera when visiting museums and galleries. With the sound and flash off, I can unobtrusively snap a quick photo of a piece and its accompanying ID/info card, allowing me to revisit the work and read more about it later (and of course to have shots to include in this blog).

Photo by Phil Roeder, via Flickr, via artsy.net

But there is definitely a dark side to allowing cell phones and cameras in public art spaces. As you have no doubt experienced, it’s no joy to navigate an obstacle course of selfie-takers, or to thread one’s way through a sea of upraised, photo-taking arms, hoping to enjoy an unobstructed view of an artwork you may well have traveled some distance to experience in person.

It’s the very clever artist who acknowledges our penchant for constant documentation, while simultaneously manipulating that tendency in such a way that it enhances not just his art, but the experience of viewing of it. Robert Buck’s iPainting and iPrints at the Helen Day Art Center’s current exhibition Love Letters, are a stunning example. Buck pairs his work with viewer-provided technology (camera flash), intentionally weaving both the art and the picture-snapping viewer together symbiotically. In fact, it is only when the two are integrated that he considers the work fully realized.

iPainting (186230889), Robert Buck ©2016 Alert paint and acrylic on canvas As noted on the gallery card beside the painting: “Buck’s iPaintings are made using a combination of acrylic and Alert paint, an oil-based industrial coating, which, due to an additive of minuscule glass beads, is highly reflective. Consequently, when the painting is illuminated by the flash of a camera, the Alert paint fluoresces and a fallow image appears…the completion of the piece comes in the moment the viewer is photographed in front of the work, thus haloed by the reflective light, becoming universally connected and filled with light.”

Not the greatest fan of cell phones and their interruptions, I find the idea of Buck’s work brilliant. Is it a gimmick? Maybe. But I am reminded of visiting the Uffizi Gallery in 2018. Anxious to get close enough to see and follow Botticelli’s brushstrokes in his monumental Primavera and Birth of Venus, I hung back while group after group took pictures of themselves with the work as their backdrop. I soon realized that it wasn’t so much the work itself that fascinated them, it was the idea of a picture of themselves next to it. With no break in sight, I finally decided to edge my way to the front so I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to see Botticelli’s genius up close. And truthfully, I don’t think my presence made the slightest difference to those whose attention was primarily trained on images of themselves. Imagine, however, if those paintings had somehow been affected as they snapped their pictures. Would such a effect have incurred a fuller sort of engagement? And how would that affect the experience of other nearby viewers?

Buck’s work makes me wonder how other artists will circumvent and/or incorporate technology in such a way that it will no longer be regarded as intrusive in an environment often reserved for meditative contemplation. Never discount the ability of the artistic mind to finding a way to mold reality, for better or for worse, to a higher – or should I say different – purpose.

See more of Robert Buck’s iPaintings.

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Food for thought: This article considers how cell phones impact cognition and, more specifically, whether and how they affect one’s appreciation of art. It has some surprising revelations.

Second Time Around

Considering all the disfunction in Washington and its impact on our relationships abroad, it’s heartening to know that there are elements of our government that are concentrating on supporting positivity. Art is a link that bridges divides between cultures while also celebrating their similarities. The US State Department’s Art in Embassies program is an entity that works successfully toward just that end.

A couple of weeks ago I received the very welcome honor/request that I loan another of my pieces through Art in Embassies, this time to Patrick Murphy, the new US ambassador to Cambodia. The piece he chose will hang within his residence for the length of his tour in Phnom Penh. It was an added delight when the curator shared with me that Ambassador Murphy is a Vermonter and wanted to showcase artists from his home state.

My previous post The Universal Language, touches on the idea of art as a means of bringing countries together. If you’re looking for some uplifting holiday down-time, follow the links within it to the PBS series Craft in America which has two fabulous episodes you can stream online, highlighting the ongoing cultural exchange between the US and Mexico. The post also shares further information about the Art in Embassies program, an opportunity I would encourage all US artists to explore.

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And speaking of Craft in America, if you’re a shibori fan, tune in on December 27th (check your local PBS listings) to see Judith Content discuss her work in the episode Craft in America: Quilts.

Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah!

2019 Rijswijk Textile Biennial

How wonderful to have had the privilege of traveling to Rijswijk, Netherlands last week to view the 2019 Textile Biennial at Museum Rijswijk. Since then, knowing I’d want to recap the experience here, I’ve been trying to think how best to describe the exhibit. Words just don’t seem to adequately convey its full impact and impressive scope, so pictures will have to do.

Museum Rijswijk Note the bike parked to the left of the entrance, complete with front-end child carrier…a ubiquitous sight.

The museum is housed in a beautiful c.1790 mansion, saved and restored by the town of Rijswijk after realizing that the 1950s’ eye to modernization, which resulted in the wholesale demolition of many historic buildings, may have taken things a step too far. A beautiful modern annex was added in 2012.
The museum’s permanent collection consists of paintings, drawings, and prints by Rijswijk artists, dating from the 17th century to the present.

The biennial was woven throughout the museum, at times integrating pieces from the exhibit alongside work from the permanent collection, as the photo above illustrates.

I am quite fond of winter imagery, so was pleased to find Alone Together and Respite nestled, so to speak, in the snow.

Espresso & Peanut Butter between bouquets

Laurence James Bailey’s work appears in the center panel

An upstairs gallery

Mirjam Kruisselbrink, foreground; Kata Unger, left; Katherine Entis, right

My fourth piece, Poseidon’s Garden

Mirjam Kruisselbrink, foreground/left; Elizabeth Fram, center; David B. Smith, right

Josefina Concha

Josefina Concha again. I was so taken with her work that I had to share another of her installations.

Kayla Mattes

Kristine Fornes

Ana Teresa Barboza

Anna Astapova

Lawrence James Bailey

Lia de Jonghe

Monika Supé

Mark Newport

Noora Schroderus

Nigel Cheney, far left; Paul Yore, middle left; Ana Astapova, middle right; Marianne Thoermer, far right; Higi Jung, foreground

Kata Unger, left; Max Colby on pedestal; Bhakti Ziek, right

A head-on shot of Bhakti’s lovely series. It was such a treat that there were two of us from Vermont in this show.

Higi Jung

Max Colby

Nigel Cheney

Paula do Prado

Paul Yore

Each artist had numerous pieces in the show. I’ve done my best to see that everyone is represented at least once in these photos. But that said, these images barely scratch the surface of the impressive whole. What an honor it was to have been included.

The lovely catalog includes an essay on each artist accompanied with photos of their work

The Thread That Binds

I recently visited two exhibitions in one morning with a friend. The thread between the two that I can’t stop thinking about is color.

Outwardly, the work was quite disparate — one being images of interlacing, richly-toned, sensually curving shapes with references to the natural world. And the other a geometric universe depicted in a series of subtle and layered collages, marrying crisp graphite lines within and above pale washes of color. The work was so very different, yet in each case the artist’s distinct color voice was the strong point that carried her/his show.

Valerie Hird’s paintings in her solo exhibition “We’re Not In Kansas Anymore” at Furchgott Sourdiffe Gallery are refreshingly unique. I know very little about music and hope I’m not misspeaking to say her palette settles on me as though in a minor key — slightly unexpected, yet far from dissonant. Rather, her colors have a richness and a depth that I found absolutely striking. She achieves a transition of color within each frame that is both intriguing and irresistible. Her luxurious palette enhances the fairy tale-like feeling of many of her pieces. This impression is supported by her statement in which she says her work “explores cultural mythologies”. The gallery also notes that she “is particularly interested in how iconic images and forms – familiar to all – can be interpreted differently by viewers in different countries and cultures”.

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We followed Hird’s work with a visit to Soapbox Arts to see Scott André Campbell’s one-person exhibition, Distribution.
As with Hird’s paintings, it was Campbell’s virtuosity with color that set the work apart. Muted and ghost-like, Campbell’s pieces appear like futuristic cityscapes to me — crystalline palaces with occasional lines of alternately bright and restrained color that bring warmth and humanity to the work. As the galley sitter so rightly noted, these are pieces that one could relax in front of with a glass of wine, discovering new depths with each viewing, while also finding refuge from the crazy world outside. Scott states that “geometric abstraction is the architectural framework through which he decisively creates order from chaos”. And that is surely the case.

Valerie Hird: We’re Not In Kansas Anymore
September 6 – October 15
Furchgott Sourdiffe Gallery, Shelburne, VT

Scott André Campbell: Distribution
September 5 – November 2
Soapbox Arts, Burlington, VT

Technical Trenches

If only my days were just drawing and stitching!

This past week I have spent way too much time on the phone with my server, trying to get things straightened around so that I can once again set up automatic delivery of my weekly blog posts to your inboxes. Let’s just say it hasn’t been fun, and I surely hope that with perseverance I’ll get it figured out one way or another. I guess the upside is that I’m learning digital technicalities that I never bargained on…although it’s all very superficial and, frankly, there are ways I’d much rather spend my time.

Scott ©2019 Elizabeth Fram, 18 x 23 inches, Graphite and colored pencil on paper. Love this paper – Canson Edition. It has both a rough and a smooth side to choose from. This is the smooth side. It takes varying pressures of line beautifully and erases cleanly. It also picks up color easily.

In the meantime, these images will give you a taste of what I’ve been doing both textile and drawing-wise. It goes without saying that I’ve been grateful for any and all work that gets me away from the computer!

Making progress on this latest…

On the brighter side, consider a visit to the The Grange Hall Cultural Center this month to see their new exhibit Body Beautiful which runs through October 12th. Two of my life drawings are included — a first for me since I haven’t shown any of them publicly yet, except here at Eye of the Needle.

And finally, because it’s always a treat to be inspired by the natural world, take a look at @pottersarms on Instagram for photos of such color and lyricism that they will at times take your breath away. Keep scrolling for her magnificent photos of flowers, both alive and dead.

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I’m looking forward to heading to The Netherlands soon to finally see the 2019 Textile Biennial at the Rijswijk Museum. It’s been a long wait. I was overjoyed to learn that both Alone Together and Respite will be remaining in that part of the world with their new owners!

“Composing Form”

This seems to be an unusually good summer for local exhibitions. So many, in fact, that I’ve had to schedule them into my calendar to be sure I don’t miss out. Last week I went up to the Helen Day Art Center in Stowe to see Composing Form (June 22 – Aug 24), an inspirational group show of contemporary, mostly figurative, ceramics.

Vernal ©Sergei Isupov, 2016, Porcelain, slip, glaze, 17.5 x 9 x 8 inches Isupov’s portfolio is quite impressive. Be sure to read about his Fire Sculpture

I have a soft spot for clay. My first real 9-5 job was as a potter’s apprentice one summer. I had great dreams of the pots I would make and of how my knowledge of ceramics would grow. While I can’t say I didn’t learn from the job, my take-aways weren’t at all what I had expected. The reality was my biceps grew more than my throwing skills — from wedging a tremendous amount of clay for others to throw, and from lugging 40-pound bags of it to those other potters’ cars.

Question of Honor / Lucretia (After Lucas Cranach the Elder) Teapot ©Kadri Pärnamets, 2015, Porcelain, slip, glaze, 11 x 10.5 x 5 inches

I stopped working with clay mid-way through college, but my romance with the medium still lingers. A hand-building class was my refuge almost a decade ago while our builders completed the protracted process of finishing our house after we had moved in. I have two clay dog sculptures purchased to mark the times between the loss of one family pooch and the welcoming of another, a not-so-subconscious effort to find canine comfort during those lonely days. And one of my favorite ‘always close at hand in the studio’ books to flip through when I hit a wall or need a break while working is 500 Animals in Clay: Contemporary Expressions of the Animal Form.

The varied pieces in Composing Forms create an imposing sense of presence in the gallery. If you go, be sure to pay attention to how shadows contribute to that force. The work is exquisitely detailed with underlying nuances of mystery, paired with acute observations. Perhaps more than any other quality, it will come as no surprise that I was particularly attracted to the incorporation of drawing/painting into the pieces by Sergei Isupov, Kari Pärnamets, Sin Ying Ho, and Robin Best.

Background, L: Horsepower ©Sergei Isupov, 2009, Stoneware R: Bullseye ©Sergei Isupov, 2009, Stoneware, Front: Shift ©Jerilyn Virden, 2019, Handbuilt earthenware, Hollow construction, Glazed and sanded, 8 x 22 x 12 inches

We are so fortunate to have these artists’ work to enjoy for the summer. Don’t miss out.