Category Archives: Travel

Filling the Well

Before I get to the point of this post, here’s a quick peek at what I’ve been working on lately. I have a way to go with the stitching in the tree, but I’m getting there. Gaining a bit of distance by being out of the studio has helped to resolve a couple of lingering questions while simultaneously stirring up some new ideas.

©Elizabeth Fram, in process

With that in mind, how do I encapsulate all the rich visual inspiration gleaned from a week in Lisbon? As I revisit my photos and sketch journal, it’s hard to miss the synchronicity between the many varied elements that caught my eye.

Here’s a small taste of what I saw.

Light

Targus Looking East

Color

Pink Street

Light & Color

Sunset

Patterns

Mosaic Path

Black and White

Passageways

Red Wall

Tiles…
ancient

Azulejos with textile motives, Cuerda Seca technique c.1500-1525

and contemporary

Textures

The Burel Factory is “a Portuguese brand, born in Serra da Estrela, dedicated to the preservation and regeneration of the industrial heritage, the deep knowledge of the wool industry that crosses generations, and the unique culture and traditions, its people and its history, that punctuate that same place”. It is a space where history, design and innovation come together, sustainably creating wool fabrics, garments, wall art and items for house & home. Words can’t express the beauty to be found there.

Murals

Fado

Spray Can

History

A distaff, needles and a pair of scissors on display in the museum of the Castelo de São Jorge. These archeological items were unearthed in the area surrounding the castle, a sign of the women who lived there.

Sculpture

And so many
Details

Keyhole

Finally, Innovation

The Dancing Lesson ©1707 Willem van der Kloet (1666-1747)

I have never seen such an innovative way of making art accessible to the sight-impaired. This and the following photos interpret the above tile painting, “The Dancing Lesson”.

Textures interpreting the figures within 3-D space

And describing the dancers’ elaborate costumes

It never fails, being immersed in a new environment tends to shake out of the brain. Given time and distance, the creative well always refills.

Revisiting Philly

There’s nothing quite like a wedding to put a shine on the world. We’re just back from Philadelphia where family togetherness, perfect weather and a healthy dose of art made for a very special long weekend.

Blick Art Haul

First stop: Blick.
In my world, a trip to Blick is a major highlight during any city visit. With my very patient husband and daughter in tow, I made a beeline there to stock up. There’s no match for wandering the aisles and fingering the goods in person, and it was nice to have a few new things to try out in the hotel room between planned activities.

Nevermind the Phillies, Eagles, 76ers, & Flyers, IMHO one of Philly’s best claims to fame is that it’s home to one of the largest public art collections in the country. When we lived in Bucks County, 30 miles north of the city, life was too busy with raising kids to dive into the Philadelphia art scene as deeply as we might have – but what a pleasure to have a chance to enjoy it now.

Contrafuerte ©Miguel Antonio Horn Read more about this sculpture, seen in the Cuthbert Street alley as we left Reading Terminal Market.

The city’s 63 year old Percent for Art Ordinance mandates that any new City construction or major renovation project must include site-specific public art worth one percent of the total budget. So if you don’t have time to visit one of Philadelphia’s numerous stellar museums on your next trip, rest assured you’ll get an eyeful merely walking or driving from place to place.

Gratefully, this visit there was also time to check out a couple of museums.
The Philadelphia Museum of Art is currently showing The Artist’s Mother: Whistler & Philadelphia, a fortuitous discovery considering my current direction.

In addition to Whistler’s cornerstone painting, “Arrangement in Grey and Black No. 1” (don’t miss this fun NPR piece about it), it was a treat to see other masters’ approach to portraying elder women. The emotional element between artist and sitter adds a bonus layer to each work.
If you’ve never seen Whistler’s painting in person, you should. She has the loveliest rosy cheeks and, much like the Mona Lisa, appears so much warmer than any reproduction seems able to convey.

And to cap it all off, my sister-in-law arranged for a fantastic docent-led tour for interested wedding guests at The Barnes Foundation the day of the big event. Founder Albert C. Barnes was a bit of an odd duck, as is evidenced by the way he insisted his collection be displayed into perpetuity. But there is no denying that the collection is spectacular, and it’s interesting to take into consideration his aims and perspective as you wander through the galleries. There were plenty of stunning portraits to absorb among the many other treasures.

And on a slightly different note, I was grateful for the chance to revisit this small watercolor by Charles Demuth – a painting that has remained a favorite in memory from my last visit to The Foundation over a decade ago.

And now, home again and back to work putting those new supplies to use!

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So many wonderful things to read – it’s hard to keep up.
Two of my latest favorites on Substack speak to two things that take up a lot of real estate in my mind and schedule most days: art and recipes. If you’re of like mind, take a look at Amy Allen’s Palate & Palette: Stories about people who make great art and food and Vicki Smith’s Easel to Table: Turning food into still life first and dinner second

À la Carte

I’m not sure how we did it, but when we planned this year’s trip to Maine last winter we somehow landed on what might have been the best week of the summer; we only had to pay one day of rain tax. Considering what a soggy season it has been across New England, that’s really saying something.

Clark Island

Before we leave, I usually have 1 or 2 specific shows in mind I want to see, but it never fails that unexpected creative treats pop up along the way. Here’s a bit of a tasting menu of what caught my eye.

Portland Coastline ©Diane Been, Oil on paper I couldn’t stop looking at this print of a painting by Diane Beem during lunch at Mae’s Cafe in Bath. Deemed “Modern Fauvism” by the artist, the colors aren’t what one might usually associate with the Portland waterfront, and I think that’s a large part of what drew me in.

©David B Harmon Always a sucker for animals in art, I loved David B Harmon’s woodblock relief prints, some of which were huge. His exhibit “Cohabitation” at Rock City Café in Rockland calls attention to the fact that we share community with creatures of all types. And knowing a couple of special somebodies who are currently trying to negotiate a coexistence with a raccoon, this piece suddenly had special meaning.

Archipelago is a Rockland art & craft gallery filled with the work of Maine artists. Its mission is to support creative island and working waterfront communities. Currently, they are highlighting the work of Kelly Desrosiers: acrylic collage that looked (to me) like fabric.

Bird Island by Kelly Desrosiers, Acrylic Collage

The Farnsworth Museum is a gem that always has something terrific on view.

Edward Hopper, Haunted House 1926, Watercolor, gouache, pastel and graphite on paper

One of their current exhibits, “Edward Hopper and Andrew Wyeth: Rockland, ME”, blew me away. Beautifully curated, it finds strong parallels between works of two very different artists, made decades apart. The stars of the show are their subjects: Rockland, as a place, and the physical apparatuses of its historic industries. The overlap of the artists’ interpretations were both surprising and delightful.

Andrew Wyeth, Untitled (Snow House), 1983, Watercolor on paper

I always return to the fact that details are my kryptonite.

There is a world unto itself in the variation of color in each pane of glass Wyeth painted in this window.

This summer I’ve been experimenting in my sketchbook with layering assorted media, including gouache and soft pastels. So it was a treat to see how Hopper incorporated a variety of materials in this lyrically beautiful passage of grass in the foreground of “Haunted House”.

A couple of other gems at the Farnsworth I couldn’t resist sharing:

Francesco Clemente, Robert Creeley, 2002, Oil on linen, Gift of the Alex Katz Foundation Any and every portrait is intriguing to me these days.

Lois Dodd, The Painted Room, 1982, Oil on linen The ambiguity of Dodd’s depiction of this room’s painted mural, framing the window, framing the real outdoors, sets the stage for all sorts of imaginings.

I was lucky that one of my Maine buddies alerted me in advance to the (Brunswick) Curtis Memorial Library’s exhibition of Robert McCloskey’s original illustrations of some of his most iconic and best loved books.
Forgive the reflections.

Most kids from Maine know all about Blueberries for Sal. For those of us who grew up in the state and summered in an old-fashioned, down-to-earth Maine cottage on the coast (not the fancy McMansion-type dwellings built by people from away), everything about this book is comfortingly familiar (except the bears).

When I look at art, it’s invariably with an eye toward what I can learn from someone else’s expertise. This detail from one of the illustrations in McCloskey’s Burt Dow, Deep-Water Man is a masterclass on being concise without sacrificing detail.

One of a number of wooden reliefs by Blake Hendrickson, also at the library. They reminded me of my friend Dianne Shullenberger’s “Circular Earth Series”.

And finally, the cherry on top of the vacation cake was discovering this local exhibit of portraits by Abby Carter. Beautiful work honoring community.

Abby Carter

One last Maine note: There’s always time around the edges to do a bit of sketching. I’ve been very happy to learn that soft pastels can be wetted and painted like watercolors.

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And now, back in Vermont, I’ve finished the portrait you have only seen snippets of so far.

The Gardener, Detail Since it’s a bear to photograph the glow of gold paint, this detail better captures what the photo above didn’t.

Southern Venture

Ready for a quick trip to the South?
Last week we visited Charleston, SC and Savannah, GA and, as on most travels, there was plenty of art to enjoy in the moment and to think about after coming home. Here are a few highlights from The Gibbes Museum of Art in Charleston, my favorite of the various art venues we visited.

Imagined Boundaries ©2017 – present, Raheleh Filsoofi, Multimedia Installation. In this striking wall installation, Filsoofi asks viewers to consider — What is a limit? What is a border? Who is on the other side? Her aim is to interrupt cultural preconceptions and to create dialogue around socio-political issues such as borders, immigration and community building by creating boxes that act as portals communicating shared humanity.

These are still shots from a video within one of Filsoofi’s boxes. The viewer becomes participant in that the video subjects appear to be checking us out as closely as we are observing them.

Self Portrait Emma ©2002 Alison Saar, Oil on Skillet. Saar’s work frequently focuses on societal notions regarding the positioning of African Americans and women in domestic realms. This oil portrait of a domestic worker on the bottom of a frying pan is intentionally faint, (I have drastically over-exposed my photo to make it visible to you) invoking the relative invisibility of a typical household cook or kitchen maid.

Never Again ©Mary Jackson, Sweetgrass and palmetto. Mary Jackson is an internationally recognized master of sweetgrass basketry. This piece took 3 years to complete.

What attracted me to The Gibbes Museum in the first place was their collection of miniature portraits. According to the museum’s literature, the first-ever American miniatures were painted in Charleston and the Gibbes collection holds over 600 works spanning from early colonial examples of the 18th century to the Revival Period of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
They are remarkable!

H.F. Plowden Weston, by Charles Fraser, 1824

Miss Reynolds of Fenwick Hall, by Charles Fraser, 1835

Christopher Gustavus Memminger, by Charles Fraser, 1823 This gentleman looks so familiar to me! I think I’ve watched way too many Masterpiece period dramas.

Actor Jack Farthing

How wonderful to see Joseph Jackson’s sketchbook which held preliminary portraits that he may have used to impress perspective clients.

Moving on, there’s nothing quite like an independent bookstore for providing a sense of grounding when visiting a new locale. Curated shelves that reflect local pride in the history, authors and artists of a place reveal the rich undercurrent of a city in a way that generic travel books can’t begin to match.
If you’re willing to snoop around a bit, you never know what you might discover. A visit to Buxton Books in Charleston opened a couple of interesting doors for me.

I loved the art on the cover of this book of poetry by South Carolinian Marlanda Dekine, and had to find out more about Fletcher Williams III, the artist who created it. The piece is named “Westward”.

It turns out that Williams has a resume that extends far beyond book cover illustration. He is a multi-media artist living and working in Charleston, making identity-based art and is a rising star. With an academic foundation in psychology and anthropology, his artwork speaks to the history of Charleston and the culture of the Lowcountry, but not in the way one might expect.

Taking time to follow the interview links on Williams’ website gave me a much deeper understanding of both his artistic aims and the challenges he confronts. He is incredibly thoughtful and articulate. His discussion regarding having to navigate the complexities of feeling pressured to speak to the Black experience, while coping with narratives thrust upon him and his artwork that are not his own, was enlightening. While I don’t think one can ever fully grasp the underlying dynamics of a specific place unless one is a native, I found it fascinating (and important) to get a glimpse, via his interviews, beyond the usual tropes and assumptions.

And for those more interested in textiles, the other book that caught my attention was Embroidery: Threads and Stories from Alabama Chanin and the School of Making by Natalie Chanin. It was way too fat and heavy to bring home in my carry-on, but I snagged a Kindle edition and am looking forward to reading, rather than just flipping through this part autobiography, part “exploration into how sewing and embroidery relate to wider concerns of sustainability, community and women’s empowerment”.

If you go, other bookstores to explore in both cities:
Blue Bicycle Books, Charleston
E. Shaver, Bookseller, Savannah

Two museums to check out in Savannah:
Telfair Academy (The first museum in the US founded by a woman), and
The Jepson Art Center
Oh, and there’s a Blick store in Savannah too!

And now, it’s nice to be home.

Inspiration Time

Travel time is often inspiration time.
With that in mind, mid-coast Maine has a wealth of artistic options to scratch the itch.

How many times have I thought the above? Relatable words on a poster that hangs in Laurel’s Dolce Vita in Thomaston, ME. Stop in for a treat – I highly recommend the Raspberry Puffin – a sugar bomb for sure, but worth every bite!.

As I get back into the saddle after a week’s vacation in my home state, how can I help but share a heaping handful of artworks that caught my eye while away? Created by artists both familiar and new to me, this fresh serving of work will undoubtedly feed my creative hunger in one way or another in the weeks ahead.

Langlais Sculpture Preserve & Art Trail

It doesn’t get much better than experiencing art preservation and land conservation in one package on a beautiful August day in Maine.

Bernard Langlais (1921-1977), native to Maine and a painter turned sculptor, studied art far and wide, including in Norway on a Fulbright grant. After living in New York, he and his wife moved to Cushing, Maine in the mid 1960’s, bought an old summer cottage and began renovating it. The experience of working with wood turned the tide, so to speak, and he soon abandoned painting for abstract wood reliefs and large free-standing sculptures that often pay homage to animals. His work, frequently site-specific, can be found all over the state of Maine.

See more of his work in the Collection of Colby College

©Bernard Langlais

Zoom in to catch the details of this Langlais wall relief.

The half-worked sculptures in Langlais’ studio give hint to how prolific he was. The organized chaos and cocooned rustic feel of this space reminds me a lot of my grandfather’s, then father’s, & now brother’s under-the-house workshop in the almost 100 year-old family cottage on Orr’s Island.

An example of a Langlais painting

Considering how close the Langlais Sculpture Preserve is to the Olson house depicted in “Christina’s World”, it’s no surprise that Langlais made this piece after Andrew Wyeth’s iconic painting.

The home of Alvaro and Christina Olson is now a national historic landmark under the stewardship of the Farnsworth Art Museum. Since we were so close, I had to swing by.

Center for Maine Contemporary Art

A smattering of the exciting work from the current exhibits at the Center for Maine Contemporary Art:

Hilary Irons,”Saint Anthony Abbot & Satan (after the Master of the Osservanza Triptych)” 2022, Oil, acrylic and marble dust on panel.

I had to look up the painting that was the inspiration for this piece after my visit – follow the link above if you’re curious too. The side-by-side comparison is worth it. This work is part of the CMCA exhibit “The View From Here” that has the unifying concept of unique and dynamic ways of looking at the world.
Hilary Iron’s use of color and pattern give the impression of batik fabric. Her reference to the Maine woods and the insertion of what I read as commonly-seen detritus on a Maine forest floor: white pine tassels and assorted tree litter, give this piece a sense of grounding and of place. Saint Anthony and Satan are represented by a dandelion and ghost pipe fungus, respectively – also common to Maine flora, though I’m not sure what, if any, meaning those representations carry.

Lois Dodd, “Sunlight on Spruce at Noon”, 1974, Oil on linen

I have become quite fond of Lois Dodd’s work after initially learning more about her in another Farnsworth exhibit in 2019 and after listening to the nonagenarian talk about her work on a Zoom presentation offered by the Princeton Art Museum last November. This piece is also part of “The View From Here”.

Reggie Burrows Hodges, “Father’s Self-Portrait”, 2017-19, Acrylic and pastel on canvas

The text accompanying Reggie Burrows Hodges work in his exhibit “Hawkeye” references how Hodges merges memory and surveillance in his paintings. I found myself appreciating the formalities of the way he breaks up space, creates depth through color, and (although hard to see in this particular piece) adds dynamism via lines drawn with pastel on top of the paint.

Veronica Perez, “you make me feel”, 2022 artificial hair, bobby pins The name of Perez’s exhibit is “voices, whispering”.

Excerpted from the accompanying literature: “The works are monuments to feelings of love, loss, and grief and are catalysts for exploring the forgotten and stolen histories of the Latinx diaspora. Veronica Perez’s practice is both introspective and community-oriented. Much of the work in this show is built in, and by, communities in Maine through Braiding Circles: artist-organized gatherings that use the act of hair-braiding to discuss identity, experience, and belonging.”

Quilting bees, knitting circles, braiding circles – there is much to be said for and learned from the discussions that arise while sitting within a group and using ones hands. For a timely and local example in which you can participate, look into Eve Jacobs-Carnahan’s Knit Democracy Together, a project that addresses the US electoral system in a series of knitting circles.

Dowling Walsh Gallery

Scott Kelley’s flock of large watercolor paintings of Great Blue Herons reads beautifully from afar and up close. “Test” swatches of paint were included in many of the finished pieces, an unusual and somehow satisfying addition, maybe because they are usually an unseen aspect of watercolor painting. These pieces call to mind the work of traditional Chinese paintings, John James Audubon, and Walton Ford.

Scott Kelley, “Fourth Aucocisco Drawing”, Ink and watercolor on paper, 8-1/4″ x 10-1/2″

Scott Kelley, “Study for Winter”, Watercolor and gouache on paper, 40″ x 30″

Farnsworth Art Museum

I’ve said it before and will say it again, the Farnsworth Art Museum is a gem. If you are ever near Rockland, Maine, be sure to visit.

Ashely Bryan, “Untitled (Laundry in the Garden)”, oil on canvas, Collection of the Ashley Bryan Center

Their current retrospective of Ashley Bryan’s work “Ashley Bryan: Beauty in Return” hinges on Bryan’s belief “If you put art into the world, you will get beauty in return”. A comprehensive display of “the artist’s work from throughout his long career, including paintings, illustrations, puppets and stained glass, the exhibition is a joyful celebration of the enduring power of art and the human spirit over adversity.”
There is so much about this piece that I find exquisite. Exuberant color, pattern and brushstrokes are irresistible. That fact, paired with the elevation of such a commonplace sight as hanging laundry that is holding its own within the landscape, speaks to Bryan’s virtuosity in finding and giving us beauty.

Andrew Wyeth, “By the Light of the Moon, Second Version”, 1987, Watercolor on paper, Collection of the Wyeth Foundation for American Art

When I was young, I was in awe of Andrew Wyeth’s extraordinary ability to portray realism. Now I find myself much more attracted to the abstraction within his work. This piece is a perfect example.

Andrew Wyeth, “Charlie Ervine”, 1937, Tempera on Panel, Collection of the Wyeth Foundation for American Art

This is a striking portrait – not just of a man, but of the house behind him. The weathered clapboards convey as deep a story as Ervine’s craggy features. Studying the painting up close, you can suddenly see subtle passages of color, within seemingly neutral areas, that are absolutely lyrical.

James Browning Wyeth, “Shorty”, 1963 Oil on canvas

Working on portraits of aging subjects as I have been lately, I am entranced by the individual features of this man and Jamie Wyeth’s handling of and reverence for them. Then, pulling back to absorb the piece as a whole, I’m delighted by the contrast between Shorty’s weather-beaten, scruffy appearance ensconced in the sumptuous fabric and luxury of the chair, coupled with the rich color and light of the piece. What a study!

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So many inspiring works, so much to think about. Thanks for hanging in there with me for the tour!

I’ll leave you with a parting shot of iconic Maine

The working harbor off Sprucehead Island, settled for the evening. Notably, there’s not a single pleasure vessel in sight.

Color + Light = Place

There’s nothing quite like travel for a reminder of how much light and color affect a sense of place. In fact, I don’t think it’s too bold to say that, for those of us interested in such things, the elements of light and color define place.

Kailua Beach

Matisse knew that fact, as did Winslow Homer and Gaugin. On the more contemporary side, look to Dorothy Caldwell, Eric Aho or the interior designer Justina Blakeney* for color that portrays the essence of specific locales.

Berkeley

Our visits with family in Berkeley and Hawaii were nothing less than a full-on immersion in chromatic glory – especially for this northern New Englander. It was the kind of visual shake-up that makes me sit up straight and pay close attention.

Hawaii

That isn’t to say things haven’t been waking up here in Vermont over the past weeks. We arrived home to find our garden bursting with the colors of Zone 4: phlox, azaleas, lilacs, iris, rhododendrons and lupins…and let’s not forget the lush Green Mountains.

Vermont

I’m not well-versed in the science of light wavelengths and how they are affected by their relationship to the sun or the surrounding environment, but at least I can say that their variations make my travels – and coming home – all the richer.

*Thanks for the introduction, Sandy!

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For a similar experience – especially while travel is still iffy with COVID – consider tuning in to the Strong Sense of Place podcast. Each episode explores one destination by discussing in detail, without spoilers, five books that will take you there on the page. Hosts Melissa & David ferret out books that really convey the feeling of a particular place — color and light limited only by your imagination.

DIY

Whenever we travel by car I feel pretty unconstrained in terms of how much I bring along, but if we’re going by plane I try to travel as lightly as possible. That definitely includes art supplies.

This is what I brought with me earlier this month: a water brush, .01 Micron pen, Water-soluble pencil, .05 mechanical pencil, kneaded eraser, tiny watercolor palette and spray bottle. It all fits neatly in the 8 x 3 inch bag I got at the Munch Museum in May. Check out the Pocket Palette by Expeditionary Art , only slightly larger than a business card.

For Belgium and the Netherlands I trimmed my kit to the bare essentials and it worked really well. However, the one item that’s absolutely non-negotiable and that goes with me everywhere is a sketchbook. I’ve tried all sorts of options in the past, but even the smaller ones end up feeling bulky and heavy, taking up more room in my handbag than I’d like.

I can’t resist bringing museum brochures home but they eventually get recycled. Adding them to the cover of a sketchbook is a much more satisfactory solution. Note the elastic that keeps this sketchbook closed. It’s an extra step in the process that was well-worth the time.

For this latest trip though, I happened upon a new solution that worked beautifully: I made a sketchbook myself. By doing so, its overall size, type of paper, number of pages, and weight were exactly right. The binding isn’t at all bulky and, since it is hand-sewn, it opens completely flat, making a double-page spread possible if wanted.

There are numerous ways that you can bind the leaflets together, but simple is best for my needs.

As a matter of routine, I cut my 20″x30″ drawing sheets down to 18″x24″ so they fit the drawing board I bring to my weekly life-drawing sessions. That has left me with a slew of 6″x20″ strips in a variety of high-quality papers. By trimming 6 inches off the end of some of the strips and then folding each remaining 6″x14″ piece in half, I ended up with the very workable sketchbook size of 6″x7″.

Adding the elastic is simply a matter of making a couple of slits in the back cover that are as wide as the elastic itself, and then using a sturdy glue, such as PVA, to hold the ends in place.

One thing to think about is how many pages you think you’ll need for the time you’ll be away. I used 4 of the 6″x14″ strips and hand-bound them within a slightly larger “cover” of watercolor paper, giving me 16 (6x7in) or 7 (6x14in) pages — not counting the cover which can be additional pages if needed.

It was perfect! Lightweight, easy to slip into my purse, and especially versatile considering the variety of papers I had included.

Seeking out art supply stores in any new city is always fun. However, since everything has become so globalized, it’s a challenge to find something you can’t get at home. I haven’t seen this brand of pen before and it’s charcoal-colored ink sealed the deal for me. It was a great choice and souvenir for less than €3.

Google around to see if there’s a particular method/type of handmade sketchbook that’s right for you – there are a ton of tutorials on the web and Youtube. Or, follow these links: DIY Sketchbook & DIY Binding for a pretty comprehensive overview of the process and binding technique. The bottom line (and beauty) of this method is it’s completely flexible so you can adapt your book to your own particular needs.

Finally, here’s a taste of how I filled the sketchbook that I brought to the Netherlands and Belgium..

Traveling Shoes ©2019 Elizabeth Fram, 7 x 6 inches, Ink on paper. Note that this and the above drawing are on toned paper, while the one below has deckle edges. Variety is the beauty of a DIY sketchbook.

Art is in the Details

Before I began my journey with shibori, arriving at the point of personally dyeing all the silk used in my work, I regularly visited fabric stores to restock my palette. Rarely was I looking for anything in particular. Rather, I would just choose whatever “spoke” to me at the time, knowing at some point each selection would be just the right thing to fill some gap in a future piece.

Unwrapping my spoils after these outings, it was always amusing to see how beautifully those random choices worked together — often in unexpectedly delightful ways — despite the fact that there was no intent to ever use them side-by-side.

The Brugge coat of arms on the City Hall. The golden lion represents Belgium, the brown Bear represents the city of Brugge. The shield is the flag of Flanders.

In many ways, the images I capture when we travel have the same effect. Subconsciously, a theme of sorts will invariably surface. I’ve learned that once I become aware of what that subject may be, it lends a new sense of attention overall and, to some degree, the flavor of a scavenger hunt to the rest of the trip.

Our recent journey to Belgium was no exception. The fine craftsmanship and acute eye for detail, hallmarks of the country’s aesthetic throughout the centuries, made for a visual feast. What follows is a categorized sampling of the intricacies that caught my eye.

Lace
Although we didn’t make it to the Lace Museum, it was fun to see the influence of lace in unexpected places.

This example of a loosely woven bag metamorphosizing into lace intrigued me for it’s modern take on the medium, as well as its unusual colors.

There isn’t a much more iconic site in the Flemish world than a windmill. But in this instance I was more interested in the fence. Zoom in and look closely to see the lace pattern woven among the chain links.

There was a wonderful, life-size, hand-carved wooden sculpture of a quartet at the Musical Instrument Museum in Brussels. But it was the violinist that caught my eye.

Look closely

Lace!

Chocolate
With a shop on virtually every corner, we did our fair share of sampling. Some of the creations seemed almost too pretty to eat, but we got over that silliness in no time.

There is something for every interest…

Death by chocolate never looked as sweet

Even the boxed chocolates were like jewels. These are from Pierre Marcolini

The chocolates made by Galler were among my favorites, if there could be such a thing. I never had a chance to go back to ask about this architectural detail above their window. It looks old, but maybe not? There is definitely something on her tongue, but from the look on her face, it couldn’t possibly be a Galler chocolate — unless she just realized it’s the last one.

Dogs
It didn’t take long for the pooch-lover in me to notice that dogs are a valued part of the Belgian family, both now and in the past. We saw plenty of the live version out and about with their owners — in shops, restaurants, and generally on the streets. But I was also delighted to notice that they are well represented in museums, government buildings, and in advertisements.

Lush fabrics and a pampered pet in a Biblical allegorical painting

Housed upstairs in the Museum Arentshuis are the paintings and drawings of artist Frank Brangwyn. His drawings were particularly lovely. Note that he didn’t neglect the two dogs that joined the festivities in this quick sketch of the opening of the Brangwyn Museum (now Museum Arentshuis) in 1936.

Brugge’s Stadhuis (City Hall) is spectacular. Its vaulted Gothic Hall is a masterpiece of intricate architectural carvings and 19th century murals. The murals painted around the perimeter of the cavernous room by Albrecht De Vriendt depict the history of Brugge and Flanders, but not without the appearance of several Great Danes, as seen in the center foreground of this example.

A dog caps the tower atop the Damme town hall

I guess it’s never been unusual for dogs to accompany their owners to shops, as shown in this larger-than-life relief advertising shoe repair, carved by Antoine Vriens c.1935.

Frank Brangwyn’s painting The Afflicted Ones from 1923 demonstrates it isn’t only humans who suffer during difficult times.

Having lived with and loved two Greater Swiss Mountain dogs, it was a treat to find this Swissie hiding under the table in a painting at the Musées royaux des Beaux-Arts in Brussels.

And, to bring this to a close, what dog could be more Belgian than Tintin’s companion Snowy?

The next time you travel, consider finding some sort of “theme” to be on the lookout for. It’s remarkable what you’ll discover that you might not otherwise have noticed.
With that in mind, I have to chuckle at this caution from publisher and author William Feather (1889-1981)… “Beware the person who won’t be bothered with details.”

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I recently discovered James Clear’s (author of Atomic Habits) 3-2-1 Thursday newsletter which consists of 3 ideas, 2 quotes, and 1 question. It’s food for thought that makes the week a bit richer.

Norway, Part 1

Last week was a revelation. It goes without saying that I was hoping and expecting to see plenty and to enjoy much during our week in Norway, but I truly had no inkling just how many layers of discovery would be waiting for me.

Aurlandsfjord, near Flåm While natural beauty appears in every direction, this post concentrates on the man-made.

Don’t you find that a big part of travel is keeping your eyes peeled for the unexpected? Familiarity may tend to let such sights melt into the woodwork for locals, yet it’s exactly those choice visual details which elevate a tourist’s experience. Reviewing my photos at the end of each day, threads of connection begin to surface, and it’s something of a game to find the basis for future blog posts among them. In fact, I’ve learned that keeping my “week after” post in the back of my mind as we travel is an unexpectedly fortuitous lens for noticing and appreciating the nuances of new places.

This fabulous piece of digital video art, a silhouette of a man in constant, athletic motion, was in the baggage claim area of the Oslo airport. I took it as a good omen of what was to come.

This trip provided plenty to work with, to the point where I could potentially write a full month’s-worth of posts. The challenge is in paring down; I’ve compiled everything into a two-parter. This week highlights the fluid line that seemed to waver between the mundane and the monumental, and the indisputable fact that Norwegians seem to value living amidst art. The smallest details loom large, so that the measure of what one sees doesn’t hinge on size or function.

Vigeland Sculpture Park in Oslo is beyond remarkable, including over 200 sculptures in bronze, granite, and cast iron, all created by Gustav Vigeland (1869-1943). The huge scope is mind-boggling, yet it is the intimacy and depth of humanity his work portrays that stopped me in my tracks. Take a moment to look at the facial expressions and body language of the figures below; there is something of all of us there to recognize.

Vigeland Tower

Vigeland

Public art appears everywhere, on both broad and intimate scales. To me, it tells a side story about the communities who live with it, painting a more complete picture for those of us who are temporary guests.

Although it’s hard to see why from the angle of this shot, this series of side-by-side highrise buildings in Oslo is known as the Barcode. I was quite taken with the bold architecture throughout the city, the Norwegian Opera and Ballet building being among the most famous. A couple of days later there was still snow and ice in the mountains as we traveled by train from Oslo to Bergen, and in hindsight I wondered if shards of breaking ice as they begin the spring melt inspired the striking windows of the Deloitte building.

She Lies, ©2010 Monica Bonvicini This sculpture seemingly floats in Bjørvika Fjord in front of the Norwegian Opera and Ballet. It is an homage to Caspar David Freidrich’s 1823-24 painting The Sea of Ice, celebrating the power and majesty of the great frozen north.

Large and fanciful murals, to smile and wonder at, cropped up in unexpected places. See more of this artist’s work on Instagram.

Other street art was more serious. Although hard to see in this shot, the head is beautifully, if roughly, carved from wood, emerging from wall and painted body. While appearing spontaneous, this piece’s careful execution must have required plenty of forethought.

Deer Grazing on Yggdrasil, Dagfin Werenskiold Oslo City Hall, where the Nobel Peace Prize is presented each year, contains spectacular murals inside. But it was Dagfin Werenskiold’s 16 wooden relief carvings ringing the outside entrance area, depicting Eddic poems from Norse mythology, that captured my imagination with their confined compositions, textural effects, and imaginative colors.

Frøy and Skirne, Dagfin Werenskiold

Dykkaren (Diver), Ola Enstad There are numerous sculptures in the Aker Bryyge area, but this one, perched near the edge of the harbor, seemed most at home.

The manhole covers in Bergen Harbor speak to the pride the city takes and the beauty it assigns to every feature, even the most basic.

No explanation needed

This wallpaper, an unexpected bright spot in a public restroom, was anything but ordinary.

A trip to the Ski Museum and Tower at Holmenkollen held a special treat beyond the views. This exhibition of dresses created from repurposed traditional Norwegian sweaters set my knitting heart aflutter…to the same degree as peering down the steep ski jump.

These beautiful dresses were created by Karin Mertz Pladsen and Hanne Senstad of 2jinter. They sew wool dresses of old knit sweaters / cardigans and new woolen fabrics from Austria. In their statement they mention that when they were invited to exhibit their dresses at Holmenkollen, they quickly ended up using Lillehammer’s Olympic sweater from 1994 as the theme for the dresses, which was appropriate considering it is the 25th anniversary of the Lillehammer Games this year.

Come back next week for visits to the Munch and Kode Museums — a more formal view of Nordic art that is anything but stuffy.

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One final note: In a sense, travel is a forced interruption of work patterns that often leads to unexpected break-throughs in the studio after returning. It’s an effect that always seems to crop up for me in one way or another. Therefore, it was a sort of kismet to learn about Alex Soojung-Kim Pang’s book Rest: Why You Get More Done When You Work Less on a podcast during the flight home. I have it on hold at the library and will let you know what I find out.

Maine-ly Art

Art and travel go hand in hand, which is one of the reasons I’m always happy when I can get back to Maine.

School Street mural, Rockland, Maine

Akin to the sight of white pines backed by azure skies and the smell of salt in the air, many of Andrew Wyeth’s images speak to me as an indelible representation of the state where I grew up. PBS recently added an episode on Wyeth to their American Masters series; it’s quite good and addresses the often uneasy sense of mystery that hovers in the stark beauty and loneliness found in many of his paintings. I can’t speak to any connection those from Pennsylvania may feel toward his Chadds Ford work, but for me, Wyeth got Maine exactly right.

Olson House, Cushing, Maine

Although I visited the outside of the Olson house (the forbidding clapboard farmhouse that anchors Wyeth’s iconic Christina’s World) as a child, one can now see the inside as well thanks to the Farnsworth Art Museum assuming ownership in the early 1990’s.

Hathorn / Olson Graveyard looking out to Maple Juice Cove, Cushing, Maine

The ‘tour’ that comes with admission is really a half-hour history of the house and its generations of inhabitants — a single family line — told to wonderful effect by a local docent. With dramatic pauses and a spooky affect that gave the impression of a cross between a no-nonsense schoolmarm and a wicked witch, she relayed how the original settlers were descendents of John Hathorne, the notorious chief justice of the Salem witch trials. They came to Maine in the 1700’s seeking to escape the tainted shadow Hathorne left upon the family name. Our docent capitalized on that air of eeriness with tales that encompassed deprivation, childhood death, and of course Christina’s disability.

Front Room, Olson House

Afterward we were free to roam the house which has remained as it was when Christina and her brother Alvaro lived there, and as it appears in many of Wyeth’s paintings. It’s an other-worldly experience walking into rooms that are hauntingly familiar, immersed in the same sense of place and light depicted by Wyeth, looking through the frames of windows he depicted to the views he recorded with a combination of faithfulness and artistic license.

Roofline, Olson House, no doubt the vantage from which End of Olson’s was painted in 1969.

Much has been said about Wyeth’s place in the lexicon of American painting, and I’m not going to debate that here. For me, his superior draughtsmanship, emotionally charged brevity, and compositional fluency negate any question of merit. But beyond those attributes, his paintings speak to a sense of Maine that anyone with a strong connection to the state would recognize, a quality that makes his work so intimately relatable.

If you’d like to dig a little deeper on the subject, let me recommend Christina Baker Kline’s novel A Piece of the World, a wonderful first-person portrayal of Christina Olson’s life inspired by her circumstances and her relationship with Andrew and Betsy Wyeth.

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On a more contemporary note, I was thrilled to walk into the Archipelago Store and Gallery of the Island Institute in Rockland and to discover an exhibit of wonderful paintings of lobstermen by Abe Goodale. On his website Goodale notes this series, the Eastern Waters project, is a tribute to the hardworking lobstermen of Penobscot Bay and that he “set out to capture a way of life, a generation upon the water and an industry that is thriving, yet fragile”. I think it’s remarkable how sensitively he portrays the toughness surrounding these men and their work.
I regret the quality of my photos is so poor.

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And finally, because I believe censorship is wrong, I am sharing a link to textile artist Salley Mavor’s recent story of being forced, ten days before the opening, to withdraw from her solo exhibition Liberty and Justice: New Artwork by Salley Mavor. The show had been in coordinated planning for a year.

In relating the circumstances, Mavor is careful not to cast aspersions on the organization/venue, its staff or volunteers. I truly hope you will take the time to read what she has to say. It is not a political rant, it is a measured response to where we find ourselves in society today. She says, “For me, the work is about stepping away from a safe, sheltered existence and into a very real reality, one where there is possibility for action toward making a difference in the world.”
I want to honor her request that links to her work be shared in order for it to be seen. Maybe you will too. It is so important that we work together to subvert censorship and support artistic freedom.

Regardless of your political stance , please take the time to explore Mavor’s website. Her work is beautiful, and if you share a love of nature, I’m sure you will find it both magical and delightful. Her creativity and skill with a needle are remarkable.

Many thanks to Eve Jacobs-Carnahan for bring this to my attention.