Short & Sweet

Considering it’s the season of giving, I’d like to share something special with you.

First a bit of backstory:
My father has always been a big fan of the newspaper’s daily comics. When I was little – and even now – he would/will often comment on the drawing skills of certain cartoonists, particularly their ability to convey so much with a spare line. I got the idea from an early age that these weren’t just the “funny papers”, they were also art. Those sentiments have stayed with me. To this day, Dad still reads the comics religiously and, since our local paper doesn’t carry the classics, he regularly cuts them out and sends them my way. Lucky me!

Comics

In a Doonesbury strip this past October, the character Zonker Harris is thwarted by some less-than-enthusiastic kids when he tries to read a Doonesbury strip to them. As a former professional nanny, Zonker suggests to parents/readers that if they want to foster a love of cartoons that will last into their kids’ adulthood, they should encourage them to watch animated classics. He (or more aptly, Garry Trudeau) then offers a link to the Oscar-nominated, 1967 short film “Windy Day” by John and Faith Hubley as a great place to start.*

In the spirit of the season, as well as in appreciation for my father, who introduced me to an art form that allows one to find joy and humor in the everyday, as well as in oneself, please enjoy this short, heartwarming and sweet film. It holds a special reverence for the joy of imagination as we experienced it as kids, and hopefully have held onto as adults.

Happy Holidays!

*A bit of a treasure hunt: Look for the Chagall reference about 2/3 of the way through.

Inspiration Over Perspiration

It was a relatively quiet Thanksgiving here on our hill, so for once, with less kitchen duties to tend to, artistic inspiration won out over culinary perspiration. Having the time to immerse myself in and to reflect upon the creativity of others was a gift.

Here are several recommendations I think worth passing along:

If you haven’t already seen them, be sure to check out the two new episodes of “Craft in America”: Inspiration and Home.
How have I not been aware of Diedrick Bracken’s spectacular woven tapestries before now?! Brackens is featured in the Inspiration episode.

the cup is a cloud, ©Diedrick Brackens, Woven cotton and acrylic yarn and mirrored acrylic, 74 x 78 inches, 2018

Because I have always been attracted to clay objects (little known fact: my first real job was potter’s apprentice), I was riveted by the segment on Syd Carpenter’s ceramic pieces in the Home episode.

Indiana Hutson ©Syd Carpenter, clay

Carpenter’s three sculptural series: Places of Our Own, Farm Bowls and Mother Pins resonate deeply, despite the vast differences between our heritages. I find her exploration of home and garden through the lens of African American owners and stewards of the land, interlaced with the connection between the land and strong female figures, quite moving. The forms she creates are absolutely lovely.

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Not a new book, but new to me, Ann Patchett’s series of personal essays in This is the Story of a Happy Marriage are outstanding. Her piece “The Getaway Car”, (also available as a stand-alone book), is a must-read for any creative. Reassuring and invigorating, this essay recounts her persistent life adjustments toward the goal of carving out room for the one thing that mattered most to her: writing. Eschewing inspiration, Patchett humbly credits her success to hard work and devotedly putting in the hours — on both good days and bad. Her insights ring true for any artist, regardless of medium. And she’s not too proud to remind us that doubts and worries come with the territory, no matter how far your practice takes you. Ultimately, as she so eloquently puts it, “the pleasure is the practice — to touch the hem of the gown that is art itself”.

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I also had time over the weekend to plow through to the end of this latest piece in my post-Roe suite. I’m not sure yet whether or not it will be the last. Frankly, the three pieces have been emotionally exhausting.

Eroded Boundaries, detail ©2022 Elizabeth Fram By stitching first and letting the paint flow over those stitches, then adding another sewn layer after the painting is complete, I’ve tried to straddle a space where the stitching adds another dimension, without overpowering the image. In the end, I really love the textural quality of the paint and the stitches working together.

The iconic “No Trespassing” warning fades, underscoring the fact that with the overturn of Roe a conservative Supreme Court has dictated the erosion a woman’s right to physical autonomy in this country.

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Finally, I invite you to check out Pigeon Pages, an online literary journal featuring prose, poetry, author interviews and more. Each written piece is paired with an artwork. It’s a wonderful online rabbit hole of creative diversion. I am so pleased and gratified to have been contacted by their art editor who requested the use of an image of “Isolation”, one of my sheltering-in-place houses, to accompany Rachel Lloyd’s recent award-winning piece, “Unraveling”. Both pieces can be seen/read in their entirety, here.

Unraveling Header

Now that Thanksgiving is behind us, December will sweep by in a flurry. Wishing you a creative season of inspiration and perspiration before January arrives.

Step-By-Step

The snow is back!! — meaning both productive studio time and the bonus of excellent natural light.
As far as my latest post-Roe piece goes, all experiments have been set aside and I’m jumping in with both feet. Here’s a step-by-step guide to the process so far. There are still some ideas to pull together.

First, the figures and letters are laid out.

Next, a layer of masking fluid was added to protect some of the lettering from paint, while other letters are partially stitched.

Everyone is always curious about the back side. This shows areas that have been completed, along with pre-poked holes that are ready for stitches.

With the first layer of stitching complete, the individual portraits begin. The cotton thread that I’m using absorbs the paint but, as the brush flows over them, the raised stitches also tend to repel paint on the paper next to them. This adds an unexpected but welcome visual element to the textural effect.

With the 2nd portrait finished, things are beginning to materialize.

As I work on these I’ve begun to notice an interesting pattern. About halfway through each face, I reach a point where it seems as though the image is failing miserably. But I’m learning that it’s a lack of definition rather than a series of missteps. Not being shy about adding details and forceful darks gets things back on track.

I expect to finish the paintings in the next day or two, and then will tackle the 2nd layer of stitching. Stay tuned for my next post, or keep an eye on my Instagram account, to see how things pan out.

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It’s that time of year.
Studio Place Arts in Barre has just opened its holiday show “Celebrate!” (follow this link for a sneak peek) exhibiting the work of more than 70 member artists. I encourage you to come take a look and to get a leap on your artful holiday shopping. It’s a great way to support both local artists and a vibrant community art center.
I am exhibiting 3 wall pieces and 3 of my Sheltering-in-Place house sculptures.

Exhibit dates are November 9 – December 28, 2022
Maybe I’ll see you at the Art Social this weekend: Saturday, November 19 from 4:30 – 6pm! Many other artists will be there too, as well as a cello performance by Michael Close.
Masks are required.

Not Always Pretty, But Essential

I’ve been working on test swatches this week as I puzzle through how to move forward with my next post-Roe stitched painting. The big question is how to integrate an overlay of stitched text within and on top of the painted imagery so that neither layer obscures the other. The only way to figure that out is to dive in and make samples.

Test #1: Ignoring how bad this sketch is – see title of this post :^) – the main lesson learned from this sample is that merely outlining the letters wasn’t enough for them to be seen.

Meanwhile, as is often the case, my reading this week has overlapped with hands-on activities in the studio. I’ve been rereading Andrew Simonet’s “Making Your Life as an Artist“, and one particular passage stood out on a couple of fronts.

First, he equates artists with scientists noting that, similarly, we both begin with a question. Experimentation isn’t just for the lab, it’s essential in the studio as well. It’s a discipline that depends on both faith and a tolerance for failure.

Test #2: This early stage photo gives an idea of the various steps involved. First, the letters and a rough sketch of the face were outlined. This time I tried masking fluid to preserve the letters. Stitching holes have to be poked through the paper before the first layer of stitches can be sewn.

And while there is a lot more to Simonet’s discussion on the role of an artist than I’m addressing here, he also brought up another idea that stood out to me, especially on the heels of a friendly conversation I’d had earlier in the week. The individual I was chatting with prosited that the unsmiling faces of my current post-Roe pieces would perhaps not be as likely to sell because of their less-than-upbeat nature. I don’t disagree, but the fact is I’m not making these pieces with sales in mind; I’m making them to express a point.

To underscore that idea, Simonet says:

“We live in a time when we are inundated by images: pictures, language, videos, stories, music, bodies.

99% of those images are made for one reason: to get you to buy something. We artists are responsible for that tiny sliver of images that can be made for every other possible reason: cultural, spiritual, political, emotional.”

BIngo.

After sewing the first layer of stitches with white thread, the whole area is painted and the stitching absorbs the pigment laid down on the paper.

Yes, sales are important — I’d be kidding myself (and you) if I pretended I didn’t work toward them or wasn’t grateful for each and every one. But at the same time, I strongly feel that there is responsibility that comes hand-in-hand with the privilege of spending my time and energy making art. That duty is to frame things in such a way that, in addition to and aside from producing something pleasant to live with, I am also offering food for thought and a perspective which, in a best case scenario, leads to conversation and occasional understanding.
It’s not always pretty, but it is essential.

Once the paint is dry, the masking (both tape and fluid) are removed, the letters are outlined with thread and further stitching added to fully fill the area with texture.

A High Bar

When was the last time you saw a portrait that truly made you think…an image that asked more of you than simply observing another human’s likeness? This idea has been much on my mind as I work on my current series of post-Roe women. A portrait can and should be so much more than just a pretty (or not) face.

These close-ups show that I added stitching both before and after painting the image in this latest piece. Taking a leaf from previous work, I first used white cotton thread on the unpainted paper, knowing it would absorb pigment and allow for the texture of the stitches to melt into the image. Additional stitching after the paint had dried allowed for further definition of the “bars”. My goal is to show that post-Roe restrictions cut deeper than just a physical cage; taking away one’s autonomy is actually absorbed into the psyche of an individual.

In an unexpected instance of kismet, I was recently able to delve a bit deeper into this question by experiencing the work of a contemporary master of the genre, one who engages far beyond solely portraying an accurate visage.

Additional stitching is done with variegated silk thread after the painting is finished

I first became aware of Kehinde Wiley’s work with his celebrated 2018 portrait of Barack Obama. It was a thrill to have seen that painting in Chicago last year when the Obama Portraits began their official tour. My excitement was partly due to the cultural significance of the work, but also to my admiration for its subject. It’s indisputable that Wiley’s artistic facility is remarkable.

A couple of weekends ago, at The Huntington Library, Art Museum and Botanical Gardens of San Marino, CA, I was privileged to see another Wiley portrait in a context that reflects the mission behind much of his work: “disturb(ing) and interrupt(ing) tropes of portrait painting (by) blurring the boundaries between traditional and contemporary modes of representation…”. *

Kehinde Wiley A Portrait of a Young Gentleman

A Portrait of a Young Gentleman ©2021 Kehinde Wiley, oil on linen, 70 1/2 x 49 1/8 inches, collection of The Huntington Library, Art Museum and Botanical Gardens. From the label text: Kehinde Wiley’s “A Portrait of a Young Gentleman” glows. The sitter wears a tie-dye shirt and Vans sneakers, and he was likely scouted and street cast near the artist’s studio in Dakar, the coastal capital of Senegal. This beachy, cool young gentleman echoes his counterpart: Thomas Gainsborough’s “The Blue Boy”, painted some 250 years earlier, in The Huntington’s collection. …Wiley makes us see that self-fashioning, pomp, and posturing are qualities not only of eighteenth-century English society, but also of contemporary street fashion and global black culture. While Gainsborough’s figure stands in a landscape setting, Wiley’s model is ensconced in a field of psychedelic flowers, which both surround and obscure him. The floral background is based on a William Morris wallpaper pattern, similar to those in The Huntington’s collections.

Growing up in nearby Los Angeles, Wiley often visited the Thornton Portrait Gallery at the Huntington as a young person, becoming enamored of the style of the British grand manner portraits displayed there. But he was acutely aware that the people in those paintings didn’t look like him. In the gallery text, the Huntington notes that Wiley’s current work seeks to rectify the omission of Black and Brown subjects by appropriating and remixing classical stylistic elements in a way that is both a love letter to art history and a critique of it.

The Blue Boy 1770 Thomas Gainsborough, Oil on canvas, 70 5/8 x 48 3/4 in., Collection of The Huntington Library, Art Museum and Botanical Gardens

To commemorate the 100th anniversary of the 1921 purchase of Thomas Gainsborough’s “The Blue Boy”, Wiley was commissioned by the Huntington to create “A Portrait of a Young Gentleman”. The two paintings are the same size, set into identical frames (one gilt and the other painted black) with the subjects sharing a similar stance. “A Portrait of a Young Gentleman” literally faces-off against “The Blue Boy” in ‘High Noon-esque’ fashion. The two larger-than-life portraits bookend opposite ends of an enormous gallery that is filled with classic eighteenth century portraits, all of which speak to the conventions of glorification, history, wealth and prestige that Wiley’s contemporary depictions of urban young men call attention to and reference in a reflection on the complex issues of power.

Caged Again ©2022 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor, graphite and embroidery on paper, 12 x 9.5 in. This piece speaks to both the internal and external restraints that the draconian overturn of Roe places on women within this country, regardless of age.

The juxtaposition is thought-provoking, uncomfortable and ever-so-important.
Such is the power of art…and a high bar to aim for.

The central axis of the Huntington Botanical Gardens barely scratches the surface of the extensive delights that await. Mixing geometric forms within the lush organic shapes of flora is one of my favorite horticultural devices.

On a more general note, between the art museum, the extensive themed gardens and the library collections, there is much to learn and absorb at the Huntington; a half day was nowhere near enough time to spend there. The next time you head to Los Angeles, consider a side-trip to San Marino. My fingers are crossed I’m able to return one day.

*Excerpted from Wiley’s website

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As I write, I have been somewhat distracted by the movement of trees outside the window above my desk. They are electric with color, releasing their leaves to dart and swoop on the wind like pods of playful dolphins. I know for many this is a melancholy time of year, with winter soon to follow. But for me, it’s like the woods have put on their cheeriest party dress and are celebrating the last hurrah of a summer well-spent. Thinking somewhat along the same lines, check out the raucously exuberant draughtsmanship of Esteban del Valle – a party on the page!

For Love of Color

A couple of weeks ago I gave in to impulse.
My shelves are sagging under the weigh of the many books I’ve collected throughout the years, so I’m consciously trying NOT to indulge in oversized art books anymore, opting instead for Kindle editions.
But everyone falls off the wagon from time to time.

Kaffe Fassett In The Studio

Kaffe Fassett In the Studio: Behind the Scenes with a Master Colorist is worth every inch of shelf space it will someday occupy — although I think it will be a while before I let it out of immediate reach. It proved a really fun read in the moment and will be an inspirational resource for the future.

This and below: a selection of the wall colors I love living with

Textile artist, painter, mosaicist, designer and collector of all things eclectic, Fassett ushers the reader through his intermingled home and studio (who doesn’t love a good peek into another artist’s working space?) writing extensively about the evolution of his long art career. With the flip of each page, one gets a further glimpse into the many aspects of Fassett’s prolific creativity, all of which seem to turn on an axis of color. The experience has the effect of making one feel a bit like Alice journeying into Wonderland.

Fern Green

A dozen years ago, while we were still in the design phase of building our Vermont home, I gained a lot of inspiration and courage from Susan Sargent’s book The Comfort of Color. I’m pretty sure I freaked our painters out when I handed them a spreadsheet outlining the panoply of colors I wanted applied throughout our new house. Let’s just say I put a bit of a wrinkle into the ease of blindly using one version or another of white from room to room.

Red

Most artists I know surround themselves with strong colors and eclectic collections. On a more universally known level, think of Monet’s Giverny or Frida Kahlo’s Casa Azul. The trip through Fassett’s home/studio is no different although, compared to many, arguably on steroids. And what’s not to love about that?

Seaglass

If you’re lucky, the colors outside your home are just as vibrant as those that surround you inside.

View from my studio

It’s hard to beat nature’s colors as autumn takes hold here in Vermont.

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For a deeper dive into the rainbow, don’t miss Dian Parker’s sparkling essays on individual colors. Start with your favorite and then savor each one – you will be fascinated reading about their history, chemistry and their significance in art and everyday life.

The Third Leg

One of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned from faithfully maintaining this blog over the past 8 years is how key writing has become to my practice. I often think of it, along with drawing and stitching, as the third leg of my artistic stool.

Layers of color, and the happy accidents that occur as those colors mix, contribute to what I find most intriguing about watercolor. Stitching over those passages is a big risk.

I’ve learned that writing opens the door to unconscious ideas, ushering them to the surface. It’s something of a secret weapon which quite often not only directs my next steps, but also helps to crystallize a better understanding and articulation of whatever I am working on in the studio at the time.

But if done carefully and consciously, stitching adds a dimensional component that enhances the paint.

This phenomenon proved true once again while working on my quarterly newsletter late last month (have you subscribed yet?). In writing a description of my gravitation toward painting images of elder women, something came to mind.

The point of adding stitches is texture – both visual and physical. Stitching also provides another means for creating definition within the image, such as the left side of the house shape, as seen below.

I had already incorporated the suggestion of a house form surrounding the head of the subject in the early stages of outlining the composition of this piece, but as I wrote, the idea of protecting one’s personal boundaries (home) came to mind — specifically in relation to the fight of older generations of women for equal rights and for control of our own reproductive choices.

It wasn’t too big a stretch to draw a line between that feminist history and the idea that the overturn of Roe v Wade this past June is akin to burning down someone else’s house.
The result is “House on Fire”.

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Among many other wonderful things, September/October means the return of Art at the Kent, the annual exhibition at the Kent Museum in Calais. Always fabulous, endlessly inspirational and a testament to the wealth of brilliant artists that call the Green Mountain State home, it’s a must-see event in a setting that is uniquely Vermont.
I’ve written about it’s magic before.

The Wayward Bench © George Sawyer paired with Mud Season 9 Patch #11 © Rosalind Daniels Just one stunning example of the eclectic pairings on view in “Interplay” at the Kent Museum

This year Art at the Kent presents “Interplay” from September 9 – October 9. Don’t miss it!

Swept Away

Very occasionally I run into an image that, in the best analogy I can think of, burrows beneath my skin and won’t let go.

Last week, while researching something completely unrelated online, I somehow happened upon this amazing photograph and was absolutely swept away. I feel something indefinably visceral and ancient each time I look at it. But beyond that, most simply put, it brings me joy.

Eyes as Big as Plates # Agnes II (Norway 2011) © Caroline Hjorth & Riitta Ikonen

Eyes as Big as Plates # Agnes II (Norway 2011) © Karoline Hjorth & Riitta Ikonen

This is just one piece within an expansive collaboration named “Eyes as Big as Plates” between Karoline Hjorth (NO) and Riitta Ikonen (FI). Considering my own current portrait project, the age of the subjects was no doubt the initial attraction. But the more I study the images, each subject’s integration within elements of nature somehow feels like a true and long-held secret finally revealed.

I’ve lifted an excerpt from Hjorth’s statement directly from her website, hoping that it will inspire you to visit one of the above links to see more of these amazing photographs.

“We need to learn to see not just with Western eyes but with Islamic eyes and Inuit eyes, not just with human eyes but with golden-cheeked warbler eyes, coho salmon eyes, and polar bear eyes, and not even just with eyes at all but with the wild, barely articulate being of clouds and seas and rocks and trees and stars.” ROY SCRANTON

Eyes as Big as Plates is the ongoing collaborative project between Karoline Hjorth (NO) and Riitta Ikonen (FI). Starting out as a play on characters from Nordic folklore, Eyes as Big as Plates has evolved into a continual search for modern human’s belonging to nature. The series is produced in collaboration with retired farmers, fishermen, zoologists, plumbers, opera singers, housewives, artists, academics and ninety year old parachutists. Since 2011 the artist duo has portrayed seniors in Norway, Finland, France, US, UK, Iceland, the Faroe Islands, Sweden, Japan, Greenland, Czech Republic and South Korea. Each image in the series presents a solitary figure in a landscape, dressed in elements from surroundings that indicate neither time nor place. Here nature acts as both content and context: characters literally inhabit the landscape wearing sculptures they create in collaboration with the artists.

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Meanwhile, I finally feel comfortable enough to leave my sketchbook and have moved into the next phase of my elder women portraits. I have still have a way to go with the stitching portion, but here’s where I am to date.

Inspiration Time

Travel time is often inspiration time.
With that in mind, mid-coast Maine has a wealth of artistic options to scratch the itch.

How many times have I thought the above? Relatable words on a poster that hangs in Laurel’s Dolce Vita in Thomaston, ME. Stop in for a treat – I highly recommend the Raspberry Puffin – a sugar bomb for sure, but worth every bite!.

As I get back into the saddle after a week’s vacation in my home state, how can I help but share a heaping handful of artworks that caught my eye while away? Created by artists both familiar and new to me, this fresh serving of work will undoubtedly feed my creative hunger in one way or another in the weeks ahead.

Langlais Sculpture Preserve & Art Trail

It doesn’t get much better than experiencing art preservation and land conservation in one package on a beautiful August day in Maine.

Bernard Langlais (1921-1977), native to Maine and a painter turned sculptor, studied art far and wide, including in Norway on a Fulbright grant. After living in New York, he and his wife moved to Cushing, Maine in the mid 1960’s, bought an old summer cottage and began renovating it. The experience of working with wood turned the tide, so to speak, and he soon abandoned painting for abstract wood reliefs and large free-standing sculptures that often pay homage to animals. His work, frequently site-specific, can be found all over the state of Maine.

See more of his work in the Collection of Colby College

Zoom in to catch the details of this Langlais wall relief.

The half-worked sculptures in Langlais’ studio give hint to how prolific he was. The organized chaos and cocooned rustic feel of this space reminds me a lot of my grandfather’s, then father’s, & now brother’s under-the-house workshop in the almost 100 year-old family cottage on Orr’s Island.

An example of a Langlais painting

Considering how close the Langlais Sculpture Preserve is to the Olson house depicted in “Christina’s World”, it’s no surprise that Langlais made this piece after Andrew Wyeth’s iconic painting.

The home of Alvaro and Christina Olson is now a national historic landmark under the stewardship of the Farnsworth Art Museum. Since we were so close, I had to swing by.

Center for Maine Contemporary Art

A smattering of the exciting work from the current exhibits at the Center for Maine Contemporary Art:

Hilary Irons,”Saint Anthony Abbot & Satan (after the Master of the Osservanza Triptych)” 2022, Oil, acrylic and marble dust on panel.

I had to look up the painting that was the inspiration for this piece after my visit – follow the link above if you’re curious too. The side-by-side comparison is worth it. This work is part of the CMCA exhibit “The View From Here” that has the unifying concept of unique and dynamic ways of looking at the world.
Hilary Iron’s use of color and pattern give the impression of batik fabric. Her reference to the Maine woods and the insertion of what I read as commonly-seen detritus on a Maine forest floor: white pine tassels and assorted tree litter, give this piece a sense of grounding and of place. Saint Anthony and Satan are represented by a dandelion and ghost pipe fungus, respectively – also common to Maine flora, though I’m not sure what, if any, meaning those representations carry.

Lois Dodd, “Sunlight on Spruce at Noon”, 1974, Oil on linen

I have become quite fond of Lois Dodd’s work after initially learning more about her in another Farnsworth exhibit in 2019 and after listening to the nonagenarian talk about her work on a Zoom presentation offered by the Princeton Art Museum last November. This piece is also part of “The View From Here”.

Reggie Burrows Hodges, “Father’s Self-Portrait”, 2017-19, Acrylic and pastel on canvas

The text accompanying Reggie Burrows Hodges work in his exhibit “Hawkeye” references how Hodges merges memory and surveillance in his paintings. I found myself appreciating the formalities of the way he breaks up space, creates depth through color, and (although hard to see in this particular piece) adds dynamism via lines drawn with pastel on top of the paint.

Veronica Perez, “you make me feel”, 2022 artificial hair, bobby pins The name of Perez’s exhibit is “voices, whispering”.

Excerpted from the accompanying literature: “The works are monuments to feelings of love, loss, and grief and are catalysts for exploring the forgotten and stolen histories of the Latinx diaspora. Veronica Perez’s practice is both introspective and community-oriented. Much of the work in this show is built in, and by, communities in Maine through Braiding Circles: artist-organized gatherings that use the act of hair-braiding to discuss identity, experience, and belonging.”

Quilting bees, knitting circles, braiding circles – there is much to be said for and learned from the discussions that arise while sitting within a group and using ones hands. For a timely and local example in which you can participate, look into Eve Jacobs-Carnahan’s Knit Democracy Together, a project that addresses the US electoral system in a series of knitting circles.

Dowling Walsh Gallery

Scott Kelley’s flock of large watercolor paintings of Great Blue Herons reads beautifully from afar and up close. “Test” swatches of paint were included in many of the finished pieces, an unusual and somehow satisfying addition, maybe because they are usually an unseen aspect of watercolor painting. These pieces call to mind the work of traditional Chinese paintings, John James Audubon, and Walton Ford.

Scott Kelley, “Fourth Aucocisco Drawing”, Ink and watercolor on paper, 8-1/4″ x 10-1/2″

Scott Kelley, “Study for Winter”, Watercolor and gouache on paper, 40″ x 30″

Farnsworth Art Museum

I’ve said it before and will say it again, the Farnsworth Art Museum is a gem. If you are ever near Rockland, Maine, be sure to visit.

Ashely Bryan, “Untitled (Laundry in the Garden)”, oil on canvas, Collection of the Ashley Bryan Center

Their current retrospective of Ashley Bryan’s work “Ashley Bryan: Beauty in Return” hinges on Bryan’s belief “If you put art into the world, you will get beauty in return”. A comprehensive display of “the artist’s work from throughout his long career, including paintings, illustrations, puppets and stained glass, the exhibition is a joyful celebration of the enduring power of art and the human spirit over adversity.”
There is so much about this piece that I find exquisite. Exuberant color, pattern and brushstrokes are irresistible. That fact, paired with the elevation of such a commonplace sight as hanging laundry that is holding its own within the landscape, speaks to Bryan’s virtuosity in finding and giving us beauty.

Andrew Wyeth, “By the Light of the Moon, Second Version”, 1987, Watercolor on paper, Collection of the Wyeth Foundation for American Art

When I was young, I was in awe of Andrew Wyeth’s extraordinary ability to portray realism. Now I find myself much more attracted to the abstraction within his work. This piece is a perfect example.

Andrew Wyeth, “Charlie Ervine”, 1937, Tempera on Panel, Collection of the Wyeth Foundation for American Art

This is a striking portrait – not just of a man, but of the house behind him. The weathered clapboards convey as deep a story as Ervine’s craggy features. Studying the painting up close, you can suddenly see subtle passages of color, within seemingly neutral areas, that are absolutely lyrical.

James Browning Wyeth, “Shorty”, 1963 Oil on canvas

Working on portraits of aging subjects as I have been lately, I am entranced by the individual features of this man and Jamie Wyeth’s handling of and reverence for them. Then, pulling back to absorb the piece as a whole, I’m delighted by the contrast between Shorty’s weather-beaten, scruffy appearance ensconced in the sumptuous fabric and luxury of the chair, coupled with the rich color and light of the piece. What a study!

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So many inspiring works, so much to think about. Thanks for hanging in there with me for the tour!

I’ll leave you with a parting shot of iconic Maine

The working harbor off Sprucehead Island, settled for the evening. Notably, there’s not a single pleasure vessel in sight.

My #1 Investment

First, my thanks to those of you who commented on my last post with your own reading recommendations. If you didn’t see those contributions, be sure to check them out. I have one more quick addendum of my own: the Strong Sense of Place podcast #65 centers on museums and includes an intriguing line-up of museum-related reading to dive into.

Meanwhile, I’m feeling pretty good about having taken care of a necessary chore by weeding through and reconfiguring the portfolio section of my website. Doing so is one of those time-consuming admin duties that accompanies uploading a chunk of new work. One change inevitably leads to another, so making these edits is always a bigger job than I anticipate – which is why I tend to drag my feet getting started. Spending days in a row at the computer feels like such a waste in the moment, but I have to admit the results are very satisfying once the job is done.

Daily Rhythms

As I began, I took a step back to try to see the big picture and it occurred to me that pretty much everything I make falls into one of two categories: “Daily Rhythms” or “Portraits”. So this time, rather than organizing my work chronologically, I’ve grouped all series under those two umbrellas. Ostensibly it may seem like just a menu change, but there’s a lot more behind the switch. The results feel crisp and concise. I invite you to explore the new drop-down menus to see what you think.

Portraits

Lastly, I’m doggedly plowing my way through the Stillman & Birn Beta sketchbook that I’ve devoted to portrait sketches this summer. With each new addition I learn a little more and feel more confident in the results. Practice makes for progress, and as I work ideas are beginning to hatch in anticipation of completing the last page and moving forward toward stand-alone pieces that incorporate stitch.

I’ve been concentrating on these two projects since mid-June and working on them has reminded me that the most important investment I can make in the studio is simply time. Time to practice, time to think things through and reevaluate, time to make mistakes and definitely time to experiment.
Overall, I think it’s starting to pay off.