Making art is something of a ‘Get Out Of Jail Free’ card.
Yes, the stripped down beauty of a snowy landscape has a unique subtlety that many of us who choose to live where winter is serious business appreciate and even relish. But that doesn’t mean we don’t sometimes miss the full-blown colors of our gardens and of the local countryside that currently lie dormant under a blanket of snow.
©Elizabeth Fram Mid-process
There is rich privilege in being immersed in color every day via drawing or stitching or dyeing. It’s an advantage I don’t take for granted. And perhaps for just this reason, I find the current phase of this piece – defining the octopus with color – the most enjoyable of all the various steps that have led up to it.
Do you remember the color theory exercises comparing two colors that seem completely different, but which are actually identical? The point being that their appearance is drastically affected by the color surrounding them. For an example of this phenomenon, check this out. That’s one of the key factors that brings so much pleasure to this current process of fleshing out the image. Each stitch is influenced by the color of its neighbors, as well as by the varying shades of the dyed silk ground it is sewn upon. That interaction creates a visual richness that at times seems almost melodic.
©Elizabeth Fram, detail
It’s a fascinating process and somewhat addictive. I have to set a timer to remind myself to stop and get up to stretch because I get so lost in the rhythm of stitching and the desire to see how new interactions between colors will evolve. The wonderful bonus is that it’s also a great way to guard against any feelings of color deprivation that can often be mid-winter’s calling card.
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How is a parterre like a patisserie?
I’ve begun watching Monty Don’s 3-part series Gardens of France. Drawing a parallel between the 17th century gardens of André Le Nôtre, creator of the gardens of Versailles, and rows of glistening pastries under glass, Don acknowledges a French cultural love of formality that lends a sense of order and harmony and balance, coupled with refinement. Admittedly, what I’m seeing in the gardens he is touring and in the display case of Carette at Place des Vosges, is a far cry from my relatively undisciplined flower beds and humble cookie creations, but the spirit of both are equally inspiring on a chilly winter day.
June in our back garden: azaleas, early phlox, and one of my favorites – American umbrellaleaf or Diphylleia cymosa, whose white flowers transform into blue/black berries on bright red stalks, and whose leaves become a beautiful mix of burgundy and gold toward the end of the summer.
Isn’t it wonderful how culture and even national sensibilities squeeze beyond the boundaries of a given discipline, surfacing in the arts and daily life?