Tag Archives: Elizabeth Billings

Marking Time

If there’s such a thing as visual euphoria, it’s the garden coming back to life again in all its glorious colors and textures. The early season vibrance of azaleas is beyond stunning after a long Vermont winter.

For those who have followed me faithfully here, you will recognize color as a recurrent early summer theme. How could it not be? With the lupines now out and irises just beginning to pop, I am reminded of this post from a couple of years ago, exalting a landscape immersed in purple and blue – my favorite.

Lately I’ve been noticing that the variety of greens on the hills and mountains that surround us are more vivid than ever. As summer wears on, the leaves will mature, becoming increasingly monochromatic, but for now their wide spectrum from warm to cool, offset by scattered reds and pinks, is pure visual pleasure. The sight is a post-winter reward.

May 18, First Color ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and stitch on paper, 5 x 5 inches. I have been meaning to get back to watercolor for ages. This is a rusty first stab after a long break but, as with everything, practice is all. It’s such a pleasurable activity; time just melts away in pools of color.

Digging deeper, it is the constant change of the seasons upon a set structure (mountain) or template (garden) that I find endlessly interesting.

May 18, detail ©2021 Elizabeth Fram One can only learn by doing. By matching the colors of thread in the stitched house so closely to those of the paint below, I think the image melts just a bit too much into the background. The aim was to have it be like a good conversationalist, holding its own without either monopolizing or fading into obscurity. The results seem to lean more toward the latter the further you get from the piece. But maybe that’s good? An unexpected surprise upon close inspection?

With that in mind, I’m beginning a new project this summer, both as a break from months steeped in COVID-centric houses (although I haven’t released the house shape yet), and also as a creative stretch. I’m looking to combine paint with stitch, and what better inspiration could one ask for than the ever-evolving flora that has suddenly taken center stage once again?

The painting before stitching; the marks that outline the house are visible underneath the painting.

The core idea I am grappling to articulate relates to structure, within the garden or even, perhaps, in the larger landscape. Inspired generally by Piet Oudolf (designer of Manhattan’s High Line and Chicago’s Lurie Garden in Millennium Park) and particularly by the Red Garden designed by Jack Lenor Larsen at his LongHouse Reserve, I am thinking about constancy amid change – and even the constancy of change. I don’t quite know yet how this will pan out, you are seeing my very first steps. There are bound to be lots of stops and starts as I figure out where I’m headed, but for now it’s enough to embark on something fresh.

And since I’ve brought you into a garden headspace, here’s another resource, especially if you’re out and about in the area:
Elizabeth Billings is currently doing an artist residency at three of the Nature Conservancy’s natural areas in Vermont. She is creating intentional contemplative spaces under the title “Together: Nature Unites Us”. She has been posting about it on Instagram.

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Summer reading:

Oudolf Hummelo – A Journey Through A Plantsman’s Life

The Dialects of Line, Color & Texture

A picture is worth a thousand words.
With that in mind and as promised, here is a sampling from the opening of The Dialects of Line, Color, and Texture, my current show with Elizabeth Billings and Frank Woods.

The Dialects of Line, Color, & Texture

The following photos were taken before any guests showed up. Once they did, things got busy. I am so sorry that Elizabeth hadn’t arrived yet to be in this photo with us.

In addition to line and color, “surface design” (coloring, patterning, and transforming materials with an eye toward textural qualities) is an undeniable meeting point between Frank’s paintings and my dyed and stitched work. Sharing wall space seems very natural. As you look through the following pictures, enjoy discovering the similarities, despite our vast differences.

Nimbus, ©Elizabeth Billings

Anyone who makes and exhibits art knows the thrill of seeing it hanging on a gallery wall. And while solo shows have their advantages, the magic of this exhibition lies in the undercurrent of “conversation” between our three separate voices, creating an interaction where the whole can be seen as greater than the sum of its parts. Kudos and thanks to curator Maureen O’Connor Burgess for finding the thread of that conversation and moderating it in such a way that makes our work shine — individually and together.

Vacuum Series

Dawn Patrol

Caught Red-Handed, Homer

Summer Stroll

Pick Me Up, Morning Musing, Side Kick

Ulysses' Wave

Evening Duet

Divide&Conquer, Cut Off, Sweet Bowl of Summer

Taking Pause

Without a doubt, the most rewarding part of an opening involves face-to-face dialogue with viewers. Not only is it a chance to explain the stories behind the work which has consumed so many hours, so much thought, and heart, but it is also an opportunity to get the work (and ourselves) out of the vacuum of the studio to see our ideas standing on their own. And when the work engages others in such a way that they can draw a connection between what you’ve made and a part of themselves you would otherwise never know, well, that is truly the cherry on top.

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I still haven’t sat down with a Louise Bourgeois biography yet, but I ran across this compilation of her thoughts on how to be an artist, and feel they are well-worth sharing.

Look to Art’s Formalities

Tuesday I loaded 25 pieces into a van and sent them on their way — all carefully wrapped, labeled, and ready to hang in the upcoming exhibit The Dialects of Line, Color, and Texture at the Highland Center for the Arts in Greensboro.

I am honored to have my work in company with pieces by Frank Woods and Elizabeth Billings, and I am very gratified to be part of a show that reaches beyond a specific medium or subject matter, instead highlighting how, despite the obvious contrasts, we all three gravitate to similar underlying formal structures to express our ideas.

I find this particularly pleasing since the formality of line, color, texture, shape, and composition is a major driving force behind both my drawings and my textile pieces. Perhaps, subconsciously, this explains why I was immediately attracted to both Frank’s and Elizabeth’s art when we moved to Vermont almost ten years ago.

I hope you’ll be able to join us for the opening on Saturday, or will be able to get up to Greensboro at some point during the show’s run (through May 26th). For those who can’t make it, I’ll do my best to have pictures to share with you next week.

Poster for The Dialects of Line, Color, and Texture

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This week textileartist.org posted an interview with Janet Bolton, another of my artistic heroes, whose work grabbed me very early during my own fledgling textile explorations. Attracted to her consideration of edges and the way she divides space, (again the formalities of art holding strong sway), I purchased two of Bolton’s books in the mid-90s: Patchwork Folk Art and In a Patchwork Garden. Hindsight reveals a predictable pattern of preference for these qualities, which resurfaced in my later inclination toward the work of Dorothy Caldwell, Toulouse-Lautrec, and Richard Diebenkorn, among others, and continues to attract me to artists today.
The dye, as they say, was cast.