Category Archives: Connection

Empowerment

Looking to feel uplifted? Read on.

First, check out artist Denise Gasser on the April 18th episode of the Art Juice podcast. Even better, if you know a creative young mom who’s at a stage where she feels like she can’t keep her head above her parenting duties long enough to create the work she wants & needs to make, share it with her. Then go one step further and include the link to Gasser’s blog post “A Love Letter to Every Busy, Tired, Creative Mom“.

Denise Gasser Front

#215 ©2020 Denise Gasser, Mixed Media on wood panel, 7″ x 5″, from “Art After: Reconciling Art and Motherhood”   I bought this painting for several reasons: First, its simplicity – only 3 elements, yet they speak volumes. Similar to a formal garden, I love the stark combination of geometric and organic shapes. And more sentimentally, it reminds me of the light and the sky in Hawaii, where we were living when I was at the stage of life when motherhood was all-consuming — with the added significance that it was during those years that I first happened upon working with textiles as a way of balancing creativity with motherhood.

While the gist of the podcast discussion surrounded social media and ways that it may be impacting and influencing our art, it wasn’t that aspect that caught my attention so much as when Gasser talked about her work as a facilitator. She mentors and inspires artist/mothers to continue with their art after motherhood despite feeling like there is no time (let alone an extra ounce of energy) for anything beyond being a parent.

In the video above, Denise shares how she worked through that issue herself with her series “Art After: Reconciling Art and Motherhood”. As a mother of four boys, the series was begun as a way to bring together, acknowledge and honor her dual roles as artist and as mom. Leaning into reality, she began making 5″ x 7″ paintings, working on each only until she was interrupted by her kids. On the back of each piece she documents the time spent on the painting and what interrupted her, as well as the number of the painting in the series.

Denise Gasser Back

#215  ©2020 Denise Gasser, back view

More than 200 works later, she had the makings of a solo show. It’s such a great example of the empowering wisdom that taking even just one step a day will get you a lot farther after a week, a month, a year than not taking any steps at all.

Susanne Krauss Poetry of Being Eliza

This is Eliza   ©2023 Susanne Krauss   If you go to this post, you’ll see Eliza’s fantastical home

And then, looking at the other end of the age spectrum, I happened upon the Legendary Grannie Gang on Instagram last week and was absolutely smitten. Lovers of knitting, superheroes and fearless grannies: you too will find photographer Susanne Krauss‘ irrepressibly joyful portraits irresistible. I think we could all benefit from a bit of Granny Power these days.

Springhouse

Springhouse    ©2023 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor, graphite and embroidery on paper, 5 x 5 inches. Spring may have been slow to come this year but the colors in the hills as the trees leafed out have been spectacular, more than making up for the delay.

Gathering Loose Threads Together

Several seemingly unrelated items have been swirling in my head since last time, their connections becoming more apparent as I write.

On a recent episode of the “A Brush With…” podcast, Ben Luke talks with Billie Zangewa, an artist who hand stitches imagery that straddles the line between the highly personal and decidedly universal. Having grown up in Botswana, now living and working in Johannesburg, South Africa, Zangewa’s goal is to challenge existing representations of Black women. Yet her brightly colored, intricate compositions of silk and stitching also explore overlooked aspects of many women’s lives (she refers to this as “daily feminism”). Her perspective is very relatable, especially to those who try to juggle a creative career with family and home life.

Billie Zangewa Heart of the Home

Heart of the Home   ©2020 Billie Zangewa, Hand-stitched silk collage, 53 9/16 x 43 5/16 inches

What I would have given to hear this podcast 20 years ago when I was always on the lookout for mentors who were able to balance motherhood with their art, without the benefit of hired help. So many young women are very successfully doing just that today; I am learning from them in hindsight. Yet even if that particular subject isn’t your concern, I think you too will enjoy listening to Zangewa ebulliently discuss her practice, her influences and her art.

Along the same lines of life and art overlapping, the other gem that grabbed me was a quote from the book Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell. If you haven’t read this novel (again, with a woman at its central axis point),  put it on your list! I’ll let you discover its premise, but suffice to say it’s beautifully conceived and written, touching on a subject appropriate to our current time.

Maple Pecan Pie

Maple Pecan Pie  ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and Pencil on paper, 5 x 5 inches  I couldn’t stop thinking about sketching while I cooked and baked for our Thanksgiving meal. My counters became an ever-evolving still life.

My greater point, though, is that a skilled writer can conjure images that are so relatable that even mundane impressions become solidly locked into place in new and elevated ways, leaving one marveling with a deeper understanding. For me, often immersed in the art of embroidery, the following analogy is brilliantly applicable to a variety of things that belie their surface appearance.

It is so tenuous, so fragile, the life of the playhouses. He often thinks that, more than anything, it is like the embroidery on his father’s gloves: only the beautiful shows, only the smallest part, while underneath is a cross-hatching of labour and skill and frustration and sweat.”

It makes one think of the proverbial duck who seems to glide across the pond, yet whose feet are furiously paddling beneath the surface, not unlike a busy mother. And, I can’t help but think of the work of Cayce Zavaglia, master embroiderer, who lately has been exhibiting the backs of her larger-than-life, super realistic embroidered portraits (versos) and her paintings of the same. Her intent is to highlight the “divergence between our presented and private selves”.

Cayce Zavaglia Sandra 5

Sandra 5 (verso)   ©Cayce Zavaglia,

With all the above said, this past Tuesday as I looked at the calendar I realized that this very week marks Eye of the Needle’s 7th anniversary of uninterrupted weekly, and for the past two years, bi-weekly posts. In fact, this is #315. I have always seen this blog as source of connection – both with the greater art world and with you.

Blue Shirt

Blue Shirt   ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and pencil on paper, 12 x 9 inches  .

But what I have come to most appreciate and to value about this practice (and I do think of it as a practice) is it has allowed me to be more deeply engaged in my day-to-day, paying closer attention to underlying connections which most often arise unexpectedly. In many respects, this is a space to pull those loose threads together. Through the act of writing I become more cognizant of what I think and feel about the many, often humdrum things which somehow end up influencing my ideas, and in turn manifest themselves in what I make. And that is really the meat of this particular post. I hope that by sharing my relationship with those moments, you too have had cause to reflect on new perspectives – or to reconsider old ones – in a fresh light.

How Is An Artist Like A Maple Tree?

What a delightful week this has been!
With temps in the 60s, our snow piles are receding and the garden beds are reappearing. “Snow Moon” is now complete, just in time for me to turn the page on winter and to fully welcome spring.

SnowMoon2Trees

My last post showed the first of  4 panels for “Snow Moon”. This and the two below are the other three.

First a bit of news. I spent the better part of two weeks in February writing an 800 word narrative about my practice, weaving together the threads of background, inspiration and process in a peek behind the curtain of what I do. Happily, it was accepted as an “In The Studio” post for the Surface Design Association blog and was published there last week. Please take a look.

One tree with moon

Some figuring was necessary to be sure the moon read as a sphere despite the change in plane from the front of the house to the roof around the corner. I needed to create two circular stitched resist areas – one on each panel – adjusting each so when they came together the moon would read as one image

Moving on, this week’s post is all about sharing creative sparks.
I find fresh inspiration often accompanies the change of each season and, to that point, the last couple of weeks have set the stage for fresh ideas via an abundant line-up of online talks and exhibits, giving me much to think about and to be inspired by. Hopefully one or two of the links below will get your springtime creative juices flowing, much like the sap of our iconic Vermont maples.

3 trees

Of all 4 panels, this is my favorite.

First off, the Vermont Studio Center arranged for Janie Cohen and Rachel Moore, executive directors of the Fleming Museum and the Helen Day Art Center respectively, to have a conversation (watch here) about how they are navigating the choppy waters of taking their institutions forward with the goal of becoming more racially just. Cohen also addresses this monumental task in the Seven Days article “Vermont Museum Leaders Reflect on the Past and Pandemic Present to Rethink the Future“. The whole article is important, but scroll to the section entitled The Museum of Truth and Reconciliation for her contribution.

House shaped sides

Each panel is stretched over and basted to its corresponding house-shaped cut-out made of Peltex.

Last week was rich with separate real-time slide presentations/artist talks by Bisa Butler, Lissa Hunter, and Susan Brandeis, broadcast from Wisconsin, Maine and North Carolina. Each of these three inspiring artists sits on a different branch of the diverse textile-art tree. Take a trip through their websites to see their amazing work, or search Youtube where they all have talks/videos to view.

Stitching together

The sides are stitched together with a blanket stitch

It was a particular pleasure to listen and watch while one of my art heroes, Dorothy Caldwell, compared notes about practice and inspiration with her fellow artist and friend Claire Benn. Their conversation is also available on Youtube; watch it any time.

Completely Together

After long days of embroidery work, seeing the structure complete is always a treat

As Spring grabs hold of our spirits and senses, the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston is currently showing “Hockney – Van Gogh: The Joys of Nature“. It brings together two giants whose love of the natural world formed the basis for much of their work…perfect inspiration for this time of year! Listen to the accompanying lecture by Ann Dumas, consulting curator of European art, as she compares their work in detail, offering insights while guiding viewers through a tour of many of the pieces in the exhibition.

Finished right view

Snow Moon    ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk with foraged branches, 18.5H x 9″w x 7.5″D     The feeling of being in the woods is enhanced by the branches, don’t you think?

Finished left view

Snow Moon (alternate view) ©2021 Elizabeth Fram

Special thanks to a generous reader who alerted me to the opportunity to take a virtual walk-through of “Richard Diebenkorn, Paintings and Works on Paper, 1948-1992 at the Berggruen Gallery in San Francisco. Click on the Viewing Room tab of the gallery’s website to be granted access. It’s high-definition viewing at your own pace, with the ability to zoom in on Diebenkorn’s inspiring work.

Living With Distance 1

Living With Distance   ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye on silk with balsa wood and silk organza, 8.75″H x 6.5″W x 6.75″D    I snuck this piece in around the making of “Snow Moon”. Although similar to “Isolation“, the inner house in this one is smaller with brighter colors, suggesting adaptation and acceptance.

And finally, you may remember that in 2017 I wrote about the thrill of seeing works by Diebenkorn and Matisse together at SF Moma. In that spirit, and as a chaser to your shot of Diebenkorn at the Berggruen, check out the documentary “Becoming Matisse” in which Matisse’s great-granddaughter Sophie, an artist herself, accompanies us through the stories, family photographs, and locales where Matisse lived and worked. It reveals the person behind the icon.

Living with distance, view 2

Living With Distance   ©2021 Elizabeth Fram

Mud Season will soon be behind us and, with more and more people becoming vaccinated, we will all soon be out and about. Yet I can’t begin to express how meaningful all these opportunities have been in the interim. It’s particularly encouraging to hear art professionals from all sectors of our field continually mention how the pandemic has precipitated change in their work and institutions, generating adaptations that have made these benefits available in ways that weren’t imaginable a year ago.
I surely hope this new era of accessibility will continue. Please leave a comment and/or link if you have an online experience to share.

One Thing Leads to Another

Alyson Stanfield  >  Beyond the Studio podcast  >  Andrew Simonet  >  Artists U  >  Making Your Life as an Artist

A huge thank you to Alyson Stanfield of Art Biz Success, who recently put out a call to her Facebook connections for recommendations of podcasts and audio books, and then shared the link to the responses with her newsletter subscribers. I felt like I’d won the lottery in unearthing this treasure trove of new (to me) artist-recommended podcasts to listen to and to learn from while I work. After subscribing to about a dozen(!) of them, I struck gold with the very first episode I heard.

Artists Amanda Adams and Nicole Mueller state that their mission for their podcast, Beyond the Studio, is to help figure out the business of being an artist by “div(ing) deep into the work that happens beyond the studio”. I went back to the beginning of their archives and listened to their inaugural bookclub episode with Andrew Simonet. Simonet was a moderately successful (his words, not mine) choreographer and theater director for more than 2 decades and has transitioned into becoming an author as well. He knows something about the challenges of creative work.

Pennsylvania Peach

Pennsylvania Peach ©2019 Elizabeth Fram, Ink and colored pencil on paper, 11 x 8.5 inches     Like colors seem to have a way of seeking each other out. The cover of this recent issue of Art & Antiques magazine could have been designed to pair with this peach at its peak ripeness and the cheerful summer napkin that kept its juice off my chin as soon as this drawing was finished.

Along the way, he founded Artists U which is based in Philadelphia and is “an incubator for changing the working conditions of artists”. The goal of Artists U is to help artists build a sustainable life and practice. I encourage you to go to the site to read more about them, and then, without delay, download the free book and workbook Making Your Life as an Artist. I don’t care what discipline you work in, this is one of the best, short reads/resources for moving forward with your work that I have come across to date.

One thing definitely leads to another, and the generosity of information-sharing lifts us all.
So with that in mind…pass it on!

That First Peony © 2007 Elizabeth Fram, Textile collage, 22 x 50 inches

This week My First Peony made its way back from it’s 3+ year stint at the US Embassy in Riga, Latvia, where it was part of the Art in Embassies program. It came back in perfect condition, wrapped exactly as instructed (an occurrence that, unfortunately, rarely happens when work returns from venues far and wide). I feel privileged, especially at this point in history, to be a part of a program that values artwork for its ambassadorial capacity.
If only this piece could talk…

Green Mountain Generosity

Hard to believe, but 2019 marks 10 years since our nest emptied and my husband and I moved north. Relocating to Vermont was one of the best decisions we ever made.

It may be small and sparsely populated compared with most other states, but the people here are fiercely engaged — globally, nationally, and locally. That attribute has proven true – and then some – for the art community as well. It is a strong and vibrant force that, by the way, is fully supported by our congressional delegation who have continually gone to bat to maintain NEA funding, recognizing the importance of the arts to our economy and our well-being.

Amaryllis

Amaryllis     ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 11 x 8.5 inches, Ink and colored pencil on paper    One of my goals this year is to incorporate color into my sketches / drawings. Bear with me as I start to figure this out.

But above and beyond that, the generosity of many of the artists I have met here sets a tone I haven’t experienced in the other places we have lived, and that humbles and inspires me. In the decade that we’ve lived here, I’ve gotten to know some remarkable people whose commitment, not just to their own work, but to those of their fellow artists, is quite remarkable. There are numerous (too many for me to outline here) Vermont artists who, in my mind, lead the way by forging connections between their work, and/or the artwork of others, with the community beyond the art world, for the betterment of all.

The Bridge

The Bridge     ©2019 Elizabeth Fram, 11 x 8.5 inches, Ink and colored pencil on paper

All that said, I was particularly moved by the most recent newsletter from Barre painter Patricia Leahey Meriam. It underlines her devotion to her art beyond commerce as she fosters the indescribable connection we all seek between our work and those who view it — and hopefully want to live with it.

In addition to the many other hats she wears, Patty Meriam makes work that promotes environmental activism. Among other honors, it’s worth noting that last year she was inducted into the National Association of Women Artists. But beyond those distinctions, Patty has committed to donating 5% from the purchase price of her work to a cause of the buyer’s choice from a list of organizations that she also supports. Pretty remarkable!

African Violet

African Violet     ©2019 Elizabeth Fram, 11 x 8.5 inches, Ink and colored pencil on paper

But to get back to my main point, please read her newsletter The Joy of Giving, which goes one step further. It details how she set out to give away one work of art to someone who loved it but who felt it was beyond their fiscal reach, and ended up giving away six pieces. When you read the quotes from the request letters she received, you too will be moved by the power of art to truly affect lives and I think, like me, you will marvel at and find cheer in Patty’s benevolence.

On a different note:_______________________________________________________________________________

One of the final highlights of 2018 for me was learning that my work has been selected for the 2019 Textile Biennial at the Museum Rijswijk  in Rijswijk, Holland. To give you a feel for what is in store, you can view 2017’s Biennial Exhibition here. Note that their website allows for translation into English.

 

A Week with the Tribe

To say that my week at the Vermont Studio Center was amazing is beyond an understatement.

Empty Studio

First day, empty studio

Plenty of room

I had plenty of room to spread out — loads of wall space, two long flat tables, and area for my easel, drying rack, and bins of supplies without any fear of tripping over something.

View

Quite the view out my studio window

It’s hard to describe the euphoria of spending a series of unimpeded days in the company of over 50 visual artists and writers, each as thrilled as I was to be immersed in the freedom of having the better part of a week to work through any and all artistic impulses with no other worries, let alone the daily responsibilities which tend to constantly interrupt ideas and progress.

Stitched resist

©2018 Elizabeth Fram,  Stitched-resist Dye on Silk, 16 x 21.5 in.        Each of the following pieces are dyed with stitched resist, making for wonderful and new (to me) patterns.

Arch

©2018    Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist Dye on Silk,  32 x 24 in.

 

Hologram

©2018    Elizabeth Fram,  Stitched-resist Dye on Silk, 13 x 22 in.    By layering organza over raw silk, each dyed separately with different stitched-resist patterns, a wonderful holographic-like effect was created that is difficult to capture in a photo.

Black and Red

©2018  Elizabeth Fram,  Wrapped and Stitched-resist Dye on Silk,  23 x 16 in.

Our studios were accessible 24 hours a day, the food was plentiful, fresh, and delicious, and the ready conversation was intriguing and warm. One could work for hours on end in solitude without thinking about anything but art, yet find instant connection and camaraderie across the table at every meal. Companionship was readily available when sought, but there were no overtones of rudeness or guilt for choosing to hibernate in one’s studio in order to keep working.

Peony

©2018 Elizabeth Fram, Wrapped and Stitched-resist Dye on Silk, 10.5 x 20 in.

Wrapped Circles

©2018 Elizabeth Fram, Wrapped and Stitch-resist Dye on Silk,  10 x 20 in.

Bright

©2018 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye on silk, 14 x 11 in.

The scope of work being made was wide and inspiring, as anyone who attended the Open Studios on our final day certainly experienced. And it was a gift to have the fresh eyes and vibrant conversations that public visitors brought with them on that afternoon. It was a week of experimentation and exploration for me, testing and mixing new and diverse shibori patterns, with the goal of discovering new frameworks for future stitched imagery. Many of us don’t often have, or necessarily want, input on work that is so early in its progress, but I was grateful for the fresh insights that cropped up during the studio visits.

©2018 Elizabeth Fram      1. Stitching a big circle.   The following images represent steps of a process, leading to the finished piece. I didn’t get as many photos as I should have along the way, but these show the major stages.

Pleated

©2018 Elizabeth Fram      2. Folded cloth.  I didn’t realize I’d forgotten to take a photo of the finished dyed circle until I’d gotten this far in the folding process – and couldn’t bring myself to go back.

Dyed

©2018 Elizabeth Fram      3. Stitched again, then dyed.   It was hard to know whether or not the central circle that had been dyed first would be obscured by the second application of dye

It wasn’t surprising that many experienced hills and valleys within their  work during the week. If you spend any time at all talking with artists, hurdles are a subject you can count on surfacing. Collective experience and the gift of time brought quick turn-arounds, but knowing how pervasive self-doubt can be, it seems both timely and appropriate that Nela Dunato Art & Design’s latest blog post deals with this issue. Check out what she has to say for a refresher that suggests ways to work around this very common stumbling block.

Finished

©2018    Elizabeth Fram, Stitched -resist dye on silk, 34 x 32 in.    4. The finished piece.   I’m thrilled the circle wasn’t entirely overdyed. Now to keep going to see how I can fine-tune this process.

I can’t say enough good things about the week.  And as is often the case, the best part was the other people. We arrived for the most part as strangers, but I think everyone left feeling more connected and uplifted by the sense of togetherness the week offered. It really did feel like being part of a tribe.

 

Savoring Connection

This is my studio after the last-minute push to get all the details of Drawing Threads in place. It looks like a war zone but, despite the chaos, there is a satisfying sense of quiet hovering over it now that makes me smile.Studio On the other hand, there is no way I would share a photo of my desk…let’s just say I am working among so many precariously balanced piles in order to get this post written, that I am barely breathing in the hope I don’t knock anything over.
Next on the agenda: tackle the mess so I can get back to work in an open space, with a clear head.

Long Wall

The past week has been a wonderful ride. I am so grateful for the words of encouragement and support that came from far and near in the days leading up to the opening reception, and for all those who came out on a beautiful, sunny Sunday afternoon to celebrate with me.

The lasting gift of the event was enjoying the opportunity to discuss my process and incentives with non-artists and artists alike, answering their thoughtful, in-depth questions and hearing about the connections they drew from both the sketches and the stitched pieces to their own experiences and/or artwork. For one who often spends hours and days working in solitude, listening to countless podcasts or “chatting up” my four-legged studio assistant, it was an unparalleled pleasure to have every one of those discussions.

Snug / Pick Up Sticks

And don’t you agree that, above all, it’s a sense of connection we strive for, no matter what medium we choose? So when that often elusive aspiration hits home, the reward is immeasurable.

Treats

Interestingly, a recurring point many made was that, while my photographs are crisp and their colors true, seeing the work in person was was somehow different. I think that is often the case with the tactile medium of textiles.

It brings to mind the countless, excellent reproductions of the Mona Lisa and Whistler’s Mother I have seen through the years, yet when I finally saw them in the flesh, I was taken aback by the beauty they project in person; there is a warmth and vibrancy that somehow gets lost in translation with a photo. And that is just a reality we have to live with.

Peonies

So let me encourage you to go to your local museums and galleries. See the art in person. Even if you aren’t sure you’re going to like what you see, you may be pleasantly surprised. And the unexpected bonus you may find is a sense of connection that you didn’t even know you were looking for.

The Universal Language

“There are two kinds of borders: borders in the minds and physical borders. And often it is art and artists who cross these borders and exchange, way more easily than most.”                                                                                                                                                              Kiff Slemmens

Have you watched Borders and Neighbors, the two latest episodes of Craft in America? If not, you have a treat in store for you. Highlighting the ongoing cultural exchange between the US and Mexico, both episodes feature master artists whose work addresses contemporary issues while continuing to honor and embed layers of tradition within their processes.

Quinn

Quinn     ©2017 Elizabeth Fram                                                                                                            My daughter recently gave me a set of .003 (.15mm) Micron pens. I love the quality of the extra, extra fine lines they make, especially when drawing my snoozing pal!

It cannot be coincidence that these shows have surfaced this fall.
And while I can’t say for sure they were created in response to the divisive rhetoric that has become so prevalent in our country, their message offers hope that the arts are, and will remain, a universally inspirational and reassuring means toward building and maintaining connections between people and nations.

Snooze

Snooze     ©2017 Elizabeth Fram

I hope you find the programs to be as rich as I did, and if you are lucky enough to be in Los Angeles between November 16, 2017 and February 25, 2018, there will be an accompanying exhibit, Borders and Neighbors: Craft Connectivity Between the U.S. and Mexico, that “honor(s) the spirit of creativity that transcends physical and cultural barriers and that unifies our cultures”.

I wish it weren’t so far away; I’d love to go.

“Art is the most profound human expression. Art creates bonds even if we don’t speak the same language. We communicate through art and have a universal language.”                                                                                                                                 Carlomagno Pedro Martinez

Along the same line of thinking…

Catalogue Cover

Last week I received an envelope from the State Department that contained three copies of the beautiful catalogue they produced illustrating the Art in Embassies exhibition I am participating in at the U.S. Embassy in Riga, Latvia. The following is a quote from the introduction:

…the U.S. Department of State’s office of Art in Embassies (AIE) plays a vital role in our nation’s public diplomacy…selecting and commissioning contemporary art from the U.S. and the host countries. These exhibitions provide international audiences with a sense of the quality, scope, and diversity of both countries’ art and culture. …AIE exhibitions allow foreign citizens, many of whom might never travel to the United States, to personally experience the depth and breadth of our artistic heritage…

Catalogue Page

It is so important to acknowledge and honor art as a powerful voice, speaking a universal tongue that underlines our human similarities more than our differences, especially at this point in history when nationalism seems to be rearing its ugly head.  You can read more about Art in Embassies in this post.

Escaping the News

I need a break from current events…how about you? This week I’m sharing three artistic escape valves that caught my eye. Each offers a healthy measure of food for thought and moral fortification for moving forward since putting our heads in the sand isn’t an option. Hopefully one or two of them will interest you as well.

Townley Untitled 1979

Untitled 1979, ©Hugh Townley, Mahogany and maple relief, 26 x 15 inches

If you’re in Vermont between now and September 10, please consider a trip to Rochester to see the Hugh Townley exhibit at BigTown Gallery. It is a lovely collection of Townley’s sculptures, reliefs and prints, highlighting his strong sense of design with a healthy dose of play. You couldn’t ask for a better example of the power of art to lift one’s spirits in pure joy; it’s just the ticket for getting your head in a better place.

Dark Night 1992

Dark Night Tuba City 1992, ©Hugh Townley, Obeche relief, 26 x 16.5 inches

Townley’s painted works are bright and amusing, and his prints are strikingly engaging. Yet I was drawn to and favored the oiled wooden wall relief pieces. His manipulation of light, shadow and shape draws one into each imagined space, accentuating the natural grain of the wood while emphasizing each piece’s rhythmic layers of depth. The work is vaguely reminiscent of Louise Nevelson yet never loses its infectious sense of playfulness. I found myself smiling as I made my way through the gallery, and realized later that, in addition to being a bright spot on a dark and rainy afternoon, my visit was also a very welcome respite from the anxiety that has been hovering over my shoulder with each new revelation from Washington.

Townley Lost in Space

Lost in Space 1996, Hugh Townley, High-gloss painted wood color relief, 35 x 19 inches

To maintain the good mood, cap off your visit with a slice of homemade maple cream pie from the Rochester Cafe a couple of doors down from the gallery. There is much to be said for the art of a good baker!

Townley Untitled 1998

Untitled 1998, ©Hugh Townley, Mahogany relief, 23 x 18.5 inches

Fortuitously, the next day Maria Popova’s Brain Pickings article “Wallace Stevens on Reality, Creativity, and our Greatest Self-Protection from the Pressure of the News” showed up in my inbox. It is a lengthly, but oh-so-worthwhile read if, like me, you are feeling a bit overpowered by the unrelenting media onslaught. As the world continues to spin, I think many of us are wondering how our work can fit in and remain relevant; whether it can possibly stay abreast at a time when it seems an artistic perspective is more important than ever.  Which leads to the question: what exactly is an artist’s responsibility in such times?

Townley Fight Night

Fight Night 1996, ©Hugh Townley, High-gloss painted wood color relief, 31 x 24.75 inches

Popova’s article includes the following quote from Stevens which addresses that specific question:

Certainly it is not to lead people out of the confusion in which they find themselves. Nor is it, I think, to comfort them while they follow their readers to and fro. I think that [the artist’s] function is to make his imagination theirs and that he fulfills himself only as he sees his imagination become the light in the minds of others. His role, in short, is to help people to live their lives.

For further reading on the subject, check out the links in my post from last January: Art as a Responsibility; Art as Superpower .

Townley Soaring

Soaring (Ups and Downs) 1992, ©Hugh Townley, Mahogany relief, 22 x 11.25 inches

And finally, consider giving a listen to Joseph Todorovitch’s interview on the Savvy Painter podcast to see how the act of buckling down and doing your work can be a remedy in itself. I found much to connect with in what Todorovitch says, but what struck me most was his articulation of an overarching truth I am coming to understand through stitching and drawing — the value of slowing down and being present. Ironically and counterintuitively, it is perhaps the best escape of all.

On a Different Note…                                                                                                                                  

I crossed another big project off my list this week. I invite you to take a swing through my newly updated website — it’s reorganized and simplified with new work added.

                                                                                                                                    

The Wider World

I’ve been using Instagram for about four months now and I guess the self-imposed trial period is over. The results? …I’m glad I took the plunge. It’s become a quick daily dose of fresh images from artists all over the world that not only emphasizes the immensity of creativity out there, but also the tenacity and commitment that people devote to their individual practices. From that perspective alone, it’s very inspirational.

Inma Serrano Trumpeta 2

Inma Serrano     Trumpeta 2

Community, even a virtual one, is key when one spends large chunks of each day working in solitude, relying mostly on a pooch, books on tape, podcasts, and NPR for company. No question, Instagram is not a substitute for my in-person critique group and my art friends who live both near and far; it doesn’t come close to the reciprocity those personal relationships afford. But I am learning to appreciate it as a passport to the global creative community, a platform that demands very little while offering a lot if it is approached mindfully.

Lisa Smirnova Joseph Brodsky

Lisa Smirnova           Joseph Brodsky/Embroidery

On the whole, I have been fearful of social media because of the perceived time drain (I sit pretty firmly in Cal Newport’s camp). And while I’m sure you could spend hours on Instagram if you wanted, my concern that it would become an overwhelming time commitment hasn’t materialized. Instead, it’s a very compact opportunity to find a sense of connection by seeing what’s going on in all sorts of studios and galleries, while offering a taste of process, materials and inspiration.

Veronica Cay Out on a Limb

Veronica Cay      Out on a Limb

And, as I become more familiar with the work of the people I follow, it’s been fun to watch as individual works progress toward completion, to vicariously celebrate openings of people I will likely never meet, and to be able to appreciate the beauty in our world as others see it.  It’s a pretty cool thing to be able to tap into the wide world of folks out there who also find meaning and fulfillment in getting into their studio each day, trying again and again, because it’s just what we do.

Tangled Bank 2.10, 2017 Miguel Rodriguez

Miguel Rodriguez      “Big Shield” / Tangled Bank 2.10, 2017 Acrylic, collage on paper, 22×35 in

The above images are a tiny handful of my favorite artists to follow. Explore their work further on Instagram and on their websites.
Inma Serrano of Spain: Instagram,  Website
Lisa Smirnova of Russia: Instagram, Website
Veronica Cay of Australia: Instagram, Website
Miguel Rodriguez of Washington, DC: Instagram, Website