An unsung step in the making of every work of art is the choosing of a title. I have a friend who often decides what she’ll call a piece long before the work is complete, but I believe she is the exception. For me — and I gather a lot of people — titling is a frustrating end-of-work challenge. I think a title ought to be more than a mere afterthought once a piece is finished. Beyond just a label, it can also be a bridge – another opportunity to connect with a viewer.

When I photograph works in an exhibit, I almost always follow each shot with a picture of its descriptive label. Aside from wanting to be reminded of the materials and techniques, I’m interested in what else the artist may want to convey to me through the name they chose.

Among the many approaches are:

Purely descriptive

Green House and Table, Jay Stern, 2023, Oil on canvas

Atmospheric

Avenue de l’Opéra: Morning Sunshine, Camille Pissaro, 1898, Oil on Canvas

An identifier of place

Meeting Street, Ivan Summers, ca.1925, Oil on canvas

Or person

Café Fortune Teller, Mary Hoover Aiken, 1933, Oil on canvas

A Marker of Time

Last Sickness, Alice Neil, 1953, Oil on canvas

Or a literary reference

Diana of the Sea, Marguerite Thompson Zurich, 1940, Oil on canvas

And some are completely enigmatic

The Bride Stripped Bare by her Bachelors, Even (The Large Glass), Marcel Duchamp, 1915-23, Oil paint, varnish, lead foil, lead wire, dust, two glass panels.   Curiosity got the better of me. For a better understanding behind Duchamp’s title, read this article.

And then there is the total (IMHO) cop-out:  “Untitled”.

I bounce around in my approach, but often go the esoteric route.
While I don’t believe that a title creates a “make or break” situation, or that a sense of connection necessarily hinges on a title, I do think it adds another layer of depth to a work — another chance to create a sense of understanding.

The Secrets She Keeps, after Hans Memling ©2020 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk, 24″ x 18″  This piece, which I’m happy to say has found a new home, is of Barbara van Vlaendenbergh. She was the wife of Willem Moreel, a prominent and wealthy landowner in 15th century Bruges. While there is plenty of information to be found about him, sadly all I could find about her was that she had given birth to 18 children. I felt compelled to give credence to the depth of her story  which remains untold in history. My title was a nod to that omission: imagine the wisdom she would have been able to relate, if only she could!

But I admit, it’s something of a game. I look at my titles as an opportunity to encode the work with a reference that, while often not immediately obvious, has the potential to reward anyone who takes the time to pay attention.

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If you’re in the central Vermont area, treat yourself to the three exhibits currently on view at Burlington City Arts: Bunny Harvey: World Within Worlds, Stéphanie Morissette: Speculative Future and Susan Smirka: in the Lorraine B. Good room.