Tag Archives: Art

Flipping Pages

I love all the reading lists that surface from various sources throughout December. It’s been a happy and productive reading year for me too, so I’m joining the crowd and sharing my top picks from 2019. Some are art-y, a few are business/tech-related, and the rest are just good, solid stories for the dark evenings ahead.

But before we get started, a bit of housekeeping…

For those of you who are also signed up to receive my periodic newsletter, I understand some may have mistaken the year-end issue (sent out several days ago) for this week’s blog post, creating confusion as to why Eye of the Needle came out early. So much for “branding” and trying to keep the look of my various missives on point! In the future I think I will probably change the banner at the top of the newsletter to avoid confusion. Please keep in mind that the newsletter will only appear 3 to 4 times a year, so if you’re interested in short, specific announcements with additional tidbits, please subscribe here.

The other announcement I have to share is that after much thought this past month, I have decided to cut back to posting Eye of the Needle every other week. Going forward, I hope that approach will keep it fresh for both you and for me.

Okay, on to the books! Let me know if any of the below become a favorite for you in 2020. And I’m always eager to hear what books you loved last year.

Old In Art School: A Memoir of Starting Over

Old in Art School, Nell Painter. A memoir by a lauded historian who decided to go to art school at the age of 64. A wonderful exploration of her experiences as she achieves her BFA & MFA.

Devotion (Why I Write)

Devotion, Patti Smith. A haunting tale of obsession and a glimpse into Patti Smith’s writing process. It’s a wonderful follow up to Painter’s book.
(If you’d like to know more, these first two books resonated so strongly with me that I wrote a mini book report about them last January.)

The One-in-a-Million Boy

The One-in-a-Million Boy, Monica Wood. A tale of unlikely, yet deep friendship and discovery between a Boy Scout (and eventually his parents) and 104 year old Ona Vickuss.

Plainsong

Plainsong, Kent Haruf. The story of a pregnant girl, a lonely teacher, a pair of boys abandoned by their mother, and two crusty bachelor farmers — all healing their wounds and finding community in each other.

Pitch Perfect: How to Say It Right the First Time, Every Time Hardcover – April 1, 2014

Pitch Perfect : how to Say it Right the First Time, Every Time, Bill McGowan. Tips and pointers on how to give the best presentations and responses in all manner of situations. If, like me, public speaking doesn’t come easily for you, this book is a wonder that will give you the confidence to do a good job – and even enjoy the process.

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Handywoman, Kate Davies. How Davies found recovery and revelation in knitting, design, and community after suffering a stroke at age 36. I wrote about this one too.

Beartown: A Novel

Beartown, Fredrik Backman. A wonderful, beautifully written, character-driven book! Gut-wrenching, and at times humorous, it speaks to the good and bad of human nature. Especially resonant in the regard to the Kavanaugh hearings. Probably one of my all-time favorites.

Harry's Trees: A Novel

Harry’s Trees, Jon Cohen. This one had a big build-up from one of my favorite podcasts What Should I Read Next, & it didn’t disappoint. Great story, well-paced. Perfect read when looking to get lost but not necessarily escape.

Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World

Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World, Cal Newport. A roadmap for being released from screens and to regaining power over our time and attention.

[By Sarah Winman ] Tin Man: A Novel (Hardcover)【2018】 by Sarah Winman (Author) (Hardcover)

Tin Man, Sarah Winman. Beautiful and sparse. Emotionally true through place and circumstance. A tale of souls holding each other up, each finding refuge in the other. It details separation and togetherness, and the power of place to heal.

The Hate U Give

The Hate U Give, Angie Thomas. Perhaps you saw the movie? Even if you did, consider revisiting this – especially the audio version. A mere moment changes protagonist Star Carter’s life forever. Such an important read. Narrator: Bahni Turpin was fantastic!

Talent is Overrated: What Really Separates World-Class Performers from Everybody Else

Talent is Overrated, Geoff Colvin. A study of first-rate achievers, highlighting that passionate effort is the powerful ingredient behind great success, and how “deliberate practice”, more than talent, figures into the equation.

The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life

The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck, Mark Manson. One of the wisest books I’ve ever read – packed with a fabulous perspective on dealing with life. Applicable on many levels. Truly terrific.

Seasoned in Vermont

Seasoned in Vermont, Marguerite Hurrey Wolf. I found this at the library book sale and it’s a keeper. A pleasant, gentle recap of the months and seasons of a Vermont year within the author’s life. Conveys a wonderful sense of place that anyone who lives here will recognize.

See you in two weeks!

Considering Negative Space

This past winter was crazy-busy and as we march toward summer I am hoping to manage a change of pace to recharge my batteries. I’ll bet you are too.

Old habits die hard and I can’t escape the rhythm of the academic year, at least psychologically. I am savoring the idea of summer’s less regimented schedule in the same way I know I will look forward to falling back into a set routine come September.

Things in the studio seem to be moving more slowly lately, probably because of the added distractions of the garden, the higher temps, and the beautiful weather. But despite the fact that these things compete for the limited hours in my day, they also serve to feed the creative fire.

2015 ©Elizabeth Fram In process

When I’m in the garden, kneeling low to the ground and weeding around the new growth, my viewpoint is concentrated on the two-foot square in front of me, focusing on details rather than a more comprehensive view. I start to see the leaves of young plants abstractly – flattened into the space around them. What I see is transformed into a formal arrangement of shapes in a way that won’t be as obvious once the plants fill out and begin to rub shoulders.

As a result, I have begun consider negative space, both physically – which I am investigating in new work, and conceptually – as it relates to time & each day’s agenda.

2015 ©Elizabeth Fram In process

Visually, I am embarking on an exploration of a shifting back and forth between positive and negative shapes, using color, and eventually stitch, to orchestrate a dialogue between the two. In the same light, summer’s more relaxed schedule widens areas of “negative space” on our calendars; time that can be filled with restorative activities that soothe and rejuvenate the weary sense of ‘push’ that marks the rest of the year.

2015 ©Elizabeth Fram In process

My aspirations are always broader than what I can actually accomplish, but I hope the next months will allow me, in addition to pushing forward in the studio, to delve into watercolor, be adventurous with recipes that highlight the bounty from the garden, and have the opportunity to sit on the porch, enjoy the breeze and read a good book.

That said, since I am always on the lookout for a good book recommendation, here are a half dozen that I hope might bring some pleasure to your “negative space” this summer. They are a mixture of art, gardens – and sometimes both together.

A Bigger Message: Conversations with David Hockney -Martin Gayford
The Samurai’s Garden -Gail Tsukiyama
Everyday Matters -DannyGregory
Strapless: John SInger Sargent and the Fall of Madame X -Deborah Davis
Museum: Behind the Scenes at the Metropolitan Museum of Art -Danny Danziger
A Bowl of Olives, On Food and Memory -Sara Midda

Getting Out of Dodge

Last week we spent the better part of 5 days in Asheville, NC. Knowing that the arts are a strong part of its identity, I have wanted to go there for some time. I wasn’t disappointed in any way.

Facade ornament, Biltmore Estate

Although happy for the change of scene, I also found many comforting similarities to VT — from being surrounded by mountains and plenty of green space, to the excellent farm-to-table restaurants that value local food & brew as much as we do here.

View from the loggia of the Biltmore mansion

Asheville’s River Arts District, which boasts more than 150 artists, sits beside the French Broad River, and is a vibrant area of artist-owned studio spaces spread out through renovated mills & warehouses. Among others, I was able to visit the studio of BZ Designs and speak briefly with Barbara Zaretsky, who uses natural dyes and clamped resist in her lovely work.

There are also numerous galleries in the center of town. My favorite was Blue Spiral 1 with its current exhibition entitled “Structure”, a group show of five artists who all have a connection to the Penland School of Crafts.

I was immediately taken by Rob Pulleyn’s ceramic vessels. They are substantial and sturdy, yet any first impression of “chunkiness” is belied upon closer inspection. Each piece possesses a matte surface that is marked with delicacy and intricacy, paired with earthy colors that, while adding to the sense of solidity, also provide a suitable ground for the beauty of these richly detailed exteriors. Pulleyn’s skill orchestrates a finely-tuned balancing act between structure and surface. I wasn’t the only one impressed, as indicated by the numerous little red dots on the accompanying ID tags.

Rob Pulleyn “Mime” Terra sigillata, stains, oxides 9 x 11 x 5 inches

I knew his name sounded vaguely familiar, but it wasn’t until I looked him up afterward that I had one of those slap-your-forehead moments, realizing Pulleyn had founded Fiberarts Magazine and later Lark Books, both based in Asheville.

Pulleyn writes that he had concentrated on the materials and techniques of textiles for more than thirty years, but when he began to explore clay in the 1990’s he found an immediate affinity. His artist statement is enlightening; he doesn’t take himself too seriously and his thoughts regarding self-imposed restrictions are key. There is much to be learned from the following:

“With each piece, I force myself to do something I’ve never done before: a form, a texture, or a color, for instance. This means each piece is an experiment of sorts. It also means I destroy a lot of evidence, but it keeps the anxiety level sufficiently high and the joy of success addictively sweet.”

Rob Pulleyn “01100″ Terra sigillata, stains, oxides 11 x 15 x 6 in

The most salient point for me, however, is that his decades of experience with fiber have not only informed the beauty and complexity of his vessels’ surfaces, but is still given voice through the language of clay. What a glowing testimonial to the strength of expression that results from the cross-pollination of working across mediums.

Interpreting the Surface

I first discovered the Surface Design Association through their journal in 1996. The bold cover of that issue immediately grabbed my attention — a close-up of irregularly shaped, hand-dyed fabrics overlaid with a web of machine stitching. The only words were the heading “SURFACE” and the small subtitle “Quilts”.

Flipping through the pages, the breadth of articles and the quality of images hooked me right away.

Elizabeth Fram

Having completed my first “art quilt” three years before, I was in full-on learning mode and constantly on the lookout for more information about other artists and potential processes.

Karen Kamenetzky

Since I was just beginning to find my way as an artist, it was a thrill find a publication that was the product of an organization whose stated mission was “to provide leadership in the field of surface design by:

stimulating…professional opportunities and education
improving communication…among artists, designers, educators and industry
acting as a resource to people seeking access to galleries, studios, workshops, small business and education
supporting and encouraging exhibition opportunities
providing a forum for exchange and evolution of ideas…”

Marilyn Gillis

My education in surface design began in earnest with the purchase of that journal and, almost 20 years later, I am ever-grateful for the way SDA has come through for me on all the bullet points above.

Rosalind Daniels

But above and beyond that, it is the people I have met through SDA that have been the ultimate benefit. As an international organization, its reach is far and wide, so exposure to what is happening globally is fantastic. But closer to home, both the critique groups I’ve joined since the mid-90’s have included other SDA members, so I think of SDA as a great source of connection for sharing both knowledge and friendship.

Karen Henderson

Currently I am enjoying being part of a show appropriately entitled Interpreting the Surface at the Furchgotte Sourdiffe Gallery in Shelburne, VT, along with seven other Vermont SDA members.

Catherine Hall

The variety and scope of the work speaks for itself. These images represent a selection from each artist.

Dianne Shullenberger

I hope that if you are within driving distance, you will go to check out the show in person. My photos don’t begin to do justice to the beauty and details of these works, which can only be fully appreciated “in the flesh”.

Jackie Abrams

In case you live too far away or don’t have the opportunity to see the show before it closes on May 26, here is a link to the review that recently appeared in 7 Days.

Elizabeth Fram

Relaxed Presence

This week I came across a very enlightening short interview between James Fallows of The Atlantic and longtime tech executive, Linda Stone. I think you might enjoy it: “The Art of Staying Focused in a Distracting World”.

It resonated with me as I am forever trying to navigate my way through constant distractions. I fully own that I rely increasingly on technology to achieve my goals, but I’m not necessarily happy about it. Reading this piece drilled home yet another reason that I am so grateful to be able to spend a portion of each day thinking about and making art.

Even though Stone doesn’t specifically refer to art-making in her theory, I think the process of creation falls within the same framework as the other skills she does mention. It too allows and encourages one to be fully engaged, while at the same time promoting a deep sense of relaxation.

I made a promise to myself last January that I would try to draw every day. As the weeks have turned into months, I’ve come to realize that this daily practice, usually anywhere from 10 to 45 minutes, not only gives me a chance to work on and improve my capabilities, but quite unexpectedly has turned out to be what one might term something akin to a form of yoga.

By approaching this exercise as a “practice”, there is no pressure to come out with a polished finished product. The reward is in merely showing up. While paying close attention to the physical details of whatever I’m drawing (in yoga terms, being “mindful”), an interesting by-product is that the process is incredibly restful and restorative. I’m reaping benefits on a number of levels. For instance, I am making new discoveries in the reciprocity of mark-making between my drawings and my textile work. I am seeing improvement and gaining confidence in my draughtsmanship; unsuccessful attempts don’t discourage me because I know I’ll be back at it the next day. I get a true sense of accomplishment in knowing that I am following through on my New Year’s promise. And finally, my time spent drawing is an oasis that has no bearing on how the rest of my day turned out — in the studio or otherwise… it just is.

That’s a pretty satisfactory return on a very modest investment. I encourage you to try it.

Where Have You Been?

“Where I was born and where and how I have lived is unimportant. It is what I have done with where I have been that should be of interest”. – Georgia O’Keeffe

In conjunction with my current exhibition COLOR|stories, I gave a talk last weekend about my work and process. One of the things I touched upon is how the many places my husband and I have lived have influenced my work, leaving an impression through color, composition, and subject.

With that in mind, I thought it might be interesting to take a quick tour of the locales we’ve called home via representative examples that have resulted from a sense of each place.

Maine: Having grown up on the coast of Maine, the Atlantic ocean is deeply imprinted: the smell of salt air, the varying blue/grey/green, the sound of the waves…

Washington State: Recurrent visits to Pike Place Market resulted in many fish drawings and paintings.

Virginia: Most of the 10 months we lived in Virginia were so hot and humid that it seemed I barely ventured out of the air-conditioning. I made a series of clothes hanger drawings that year that were the direct result of so much time spent indoors.

San Francisco: I can’t remember if this piece was inspired by the quilt I was making for our expected first baby – or the other way around. But it was at this time that I realized that pastel dust and pregnancy didn’t mix and I was going to have to find another way to make art.

Hawaii: Sitting on a Hawaiian beach, how could one not be inspired by the expanse of sky and fluffy clouds stretching out forever over the clear, turquoise water?

Washington State, again: We were so happy to go back to Washington. The colors of the evergreens, Mount Rainier in the distance, and even the rain were all aspects we loved.

Pennsylvania: While living in PA, I saw the Delaware River daily. Watching as it reflected varying qualities of light was a large part of its charm.

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Vermont: There is so much to love about Vermont. The seasons have such a huge impact on us here and add so much depth to the routine of the everyday. Fall’s mantel of russet and gold, covering unmown fields, is a showstopper.

While each locale may not be immediately apparent in these works without knowing the back story, when seen in this context I feel that these pieces, as a group, create something of a road map of our semi-nomadic life.

It’s a worthwhile exercise to think about how the places in your life have affected your thought process and resulting work, don’t you think? We can’t help but be a product of where we’ve been.

Art from the Needle Lives On

I recently treated myself to a copy of the catalog from the Museum of Arts and Design’s 2007 exhibition “Pricked: extreme embroidery“. As is to be expected, the show is thought-provoking, engaging and, as noted by former Museum of Arts and Design director Holly Hotchner, “celebrates the work of the artist’s hand in the twenty-first century”.

“Pricked” represented international artists of both genders whose art not only pushes forward into new realms via concept and unexpected materials, but which references the traditional in unexpected ways. The exhibition was so popular that it was extended an additional 7 weeks.

“Death of Blinded Philosopher” (2006), embroidery on silk shantung, by Angelo Filomeno Photo Credit: Michael Bodycomb

It’s well worth noting the remarks of David Revere McFadden (Chief Curator, Museum of Arts and Design at the time of the show) that it “is not by any measure an exhibition about embroidery, but rather an exhibition of contemporary art made by artists that use embroidery as a medium to communicate their ideas and visions”.

I have been thinking lately about the fact that regardless of whether for utilitarian purposes or as a means of artistic expression, the use of needle and thread is a discipline that crosses many boundaries: historic, economic, geographic and cultural. Recently that fact hit home on a more personal level.

Our family has a treasured sampler that has made its way down through the generations to one of my cousins. It was made by my great, great, great grandmother at the age of 12 in 1806. It’s an object that was respected, but in recent times I don’t think much was thought or known about it beyond being something of another era.

Pamelia was originally from Massachusetts and my father, who is deep in genealogical research surrounding the life of her husband, couldn’t figure out why she was in Portland, Maine where she made this sampler at such a young age, and how she happened to meet her eventual husband, the subject of my father’s research.

Pamelia circa 1870’s

Interestingly, I recently received a group email from my SAQA regional rep that included a link to a video about an exhibition at the Saco Museum, “I My Needle Ply With Skill”, that showcases Maine schoolgirl needlework from the Federal era. That led to further information that allowed my father to ferret out why Pamelia was in Maine (another story), and also the fact that she attended the same needlework school in Portland as my great, great, great grandfather’s sister. This is undoubtedly how the two met – and perhaps one of the reasons that this sampler was cherished and so well-preserved to be passed down in such beautiful condition.

I’m proud to see the way that Pamelia’s work was honored by the elegant frame that surrounds it. And I can’t help but be reminded that needlework has become central to my art-making. It’s cause for celebration that “hand-work” has expanded beyond the sphere of the relatively limited education accessible to girls of 200 years ago, to become a valid contemporary art form, recognized through an exhibition at in one of our most important museums.

And I find it uplifting to remember that we are connected via the things we make — even across time and place.

What Do You Think?

Have you read “The Death of the Artist — and the Birth of the Creative Entrepreneur”, William Deresiewicz’s article from the January/February 2015 issue of the Atlantic magazine? Judging from the number of references to it that have appeared lately, it has obviously struck a nerve and I highly recommend you check it out.

Jason Horejs of Red Dot Blog wrote an interesting response that I feel strikes a worthy note — and I would encourage you to read his rebuttal after you’ve had a chance to first read Deresiewicz’s article. My thoughts below hinge on both and I would love to hear what you think as well.

While I think Deresiewicz has opened an interesting discussion that poses worthwhile food for thought, I won’t be losing any sleep over his conclusions. For me, his theory and accompanying reasoning that art and artists are disappearing, falls into the same category as the exhaustingly overwrought discussion of “Art vs Craft”. I would suggest we not waste precious time debating semantics and rather devote our energy to amassing either our 10,000 hours…or the 10,000 contacts he references, whichever you feel will best serve your vision of the path you have chosen.

The bottom line is that art is subjective. Period. It’s a source of unending debate; one that has no definitive answer one way or another despite whatever schooling, patronage, or professionalism an individual may accrue.

Regardless of how the marketplace and society has affected the way we regard “artists” through the centuries, there will never be a definitive formula for outlining who exactly is worthy of the appellation. There have always been and will continue to be those who make great work who are ignored and rejected during their lifetime, while there will be others who are greatly celebrated but with whom many cannot find any connection. That, for good or bad, seems to be an inherent part of the deal we enter into when we decide to share our work beyond the walls of our studios.

The most salient point is the one Mr. Horejs makes toward the end of his rebuttal: “Mr. Deresiewicz fails to realize that the desire to create is as old as mankind, and that as long as humanity exists there will be those among us who strive to create works of art that have the ability to leave the rest of us in absolute wonder.” To take it a step farther, I would strike the phrase “…that have the ability to leave the rest of us in absolute wonder”, as the thought is self-sufficient without that qualifier. Many of us make/create because we wouldn’t know how not to, because we see and absorb the world around us in a way that insists a response. We strive to create wonder in our viewers, but will continue to work despite falling short of that goal. That said, the cream will rise to the top regardless of how it is bottled.

In his recent lecture at the University of Vermont, (grab yourself a cup of tea and enjoy it via this link) author Salman Rushdie asserted that there isn’t a better description of what Art attempts than: “to open up the Universe a little more”. He went on to say that “what art tries to do is to increase by some degree the sum total of what it is that we know, what it is that we understand, what it is that we see, and therefore in the end, what it is possible for us to be”. Isn’t that what we are seeking when we read, go to the theater, museum or a gallery…or (gasp) even buy something handmade on Etsy? I think the key point Rushdie makes revolves around the sharing of art and the communing that occurs between creator and observer as the art, in whatever form, is experienced.

We make because we have to. But the icing on the cake is connection, of feeling that you have cracked open the universe, even ever so slightly, so as to share what you have seen with someone else.

Long live the artist.

The Conversation Begins

My artistic journey began so long ago I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t interested in color and the pure joy of making things. What an exhilarating, frustrating, humbling challenge it is to push beyond inspiration, striving to re-frame and translate a subject in such a way so as learn about it in a completely new light.

But nobody wants a one-way discussion. Shouting from the edge of a canyon to hear your own voice bounce back at you may be fun…initially. But a reverberating echo can’t replace the depth of a conversation with another person who brings an entirely different set of experiences to the table. There is great satisfaction when a part of your vision breaks free and connects with another individual.

Making art is, by itself, a satisfying and affirming process. Yet without the consideration and engagement of viewers, it is merely looking into the mirror.

Admittedly, some exchanges are short-lived; there’s not much to say beyond the facts — and that’s the end of it.

But one of the things I most appreciate about Art is that it begins a dialogue that can wend its way indefinitely through time and space, surviving the vagaries of style and politics, involving emotions and intellect alike, touching a viewer through both personal history and hopes for the future. While the actual discussion may seem to stop, the ideas engendered live on and invariably pop to the surface for further consideration as times and circumstances change.

What could be more engaging?

Robert Genn, author of The Painter’s Keys, was devoted to his work while generating just such conversations through his twice-weekly e-mail letters. Although sadly he passed away this year, his daughter Sara continues his legacy to the benefit of those of us who came to depend upon the food for thought he regularly served.

As I begin this blog, I’d like to think of it as the start of an on-going discourse, sharing what I am working on and the thoughts that are working on me, with the hope of beginning a conversation of sorts that will be worthy of those of you who take the time to visit me here.

I welcome your thoughts. The link for comments is at the beginning of each post.

Elizabeth Fram

Eye of the Needle

Tag Archives: Art

Flipping Pages

Considering Negative Space

Getting Out of Dodge

Interpreting the Surface

Relaxed Presence

Where Have You Been?

Art from the Needle Lives On

What Do You Think?

The Conversation Begins

Hindsight 32.5″ x 24″ Textile Collage ©2006 Elizabeth Fram

Fractured Thought 41″ x 50″ Textile Collage ©2006 Elizabeth Fram

Fractured Thought 41″ x 50″ Textile Collage ©2006 Elizabeth Fram