Last week I went to see Eric Aho’s current exhibition “Ice Cuts” at the Hood Museum in Hanover, NH. It was strikingly beautiful. Entering the main gallery, I couldn’t help but feel very “human” in scale compared to the relative monumentality of the seven pieces displayed on three perimeter walls.
I sat on the bench in the center of the room, swiveling to absorb each painting in turn. The work proffered an overall sense of tranquility, a calming rhythm through repetition. Yet, far from becoming tedious, each piece is worlds apart from the others, focusing on the disparity to be found in varying textures of snow and the luminous colors emitted from the cut edges of the ice. Aho brings out the subtle differences that we who live with snowy landscapes know well, such that you can almost smell the cold in the air.
Whether viewed from a distance of 3 feet or 30, the nuances of detail come through loud and clear. And not unlike identical twins, whose individuality becomes apparent once you get to know them, each painting expresses a distinct personality. Varying details lend both a sense of solidity and ethereality, embodied in elements such as bold composition expressed through stark geometry, scars of over-cuts left behind after the block of ice has been removed, layers of depth conveyed within each void via subtle changes in the black paint that describes it, and beautifully diverse edges surrounding every hole.
The exhibit also includes smaller pieces, watercolor studies and open sketchbooks that provide a window into Aho’s process, adding measurably to the scope of the show.
An intriguing parallel that has come to me as I’ve thought about these pieces over the past week is that they evoke the monoliths from “2001: A Space Odyssey”. I’m not exactly sure where to go with that idea, but it speaks well to the power of Aho’s work that it also lends a sense of mystery.
If you live close enough, Eric Aho’s “Ice Cuts” will be up through March 13th.
Eric Aho is one of my favorite artists. I heard him talk about some landscapes several years ago and was fascinated to learn he often has a backstory underlying his paintings. Sometimes the paintings take on emotional or dramatic meanings from the unseen people who inhabit the actual landscapes he paints.
That’s interesting Eve. It said in the gallery literature that many of these paintings were prompted by his father’s stories of cutting ice many years ago. That’s why there is another year (1933, 1932) beside the titles.
Betsy,
These are wonderful. Thanks for sharing this with those of us who can’t get to the area to see it.
Melitta
And they were so much better in person! I’m going to listen to him speak tonight…