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.

There are rules of ‘making’ that have been drilled firmly within our brains, often leaving us consumed and creatively tongue-tied by their prescribed boundaries. Yet I think it’s healthy to keep in mind, in an effort to access the core of what we ultimately want to say through our work, that selectively disregarding the paths laid out and trodden by those who have gone before, or even those who walk alongside of us, can lead to wonderful discoveries.

In her “first person” essay in the Spring 2016 Surface Design Journal, Juliet Martin discusses the Japanese philosophy of SAORI, an ideology that “encourages freeform work — no patterns, no rules, (and perhaps most importantly) no mistakes”. Saori is a type of weaving devised by Misao Jo that ignores restrictions, giving voice to the expression of hidden personal creativity. Martin writes in greater depth about her experience with and exploration of Saori in her article Unmistakable: How I Understand Saori Weaving on the Surface Design blog. Applying this mindset has had a fascinating affect on the way Martin approaches her work. I encourage you to read her post regardless of your medium, as I believe its core ideas swing open a door to greater creative possibilities across all disciplines.

At it’s heart, Saori celebrates working intuitionally and allows for the “happy accidents” that often elevate a piece beyond what might have been initially planned. As a way of working, it lends permission to set aside rules and to relax into one’s process, letting the actual act of making guide the way toward fortuitous discoveries. And I have to wonder, couldn’t all our work benefit from a little more of that?

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If you are looking for a great art book to round out your August, check out McCloskey – Art and Illustrations of Robert McCloskey. Even if you didn’t grown up in Maine, I have to believe you are familiar with Blueberries for Sal, Make Way for Ducklings, One Morning in Maine, or one of McCloskey’s many other books. And if not – grab a young friend and check them out from the library! His work is so iconic to me that, when we brought our daughter to Boston at the beginning of her college search, I made sure to find time to search out Nancy Schön’s bronze sculpture of McCloskey’s beloved Mallard family in the Boston Public Garden.

What I didn’t realize is that in addition to his fabulous illustrations which speak so strongly of Maine, McCloskey was also a wonderful painter who travelled widely, living and painting in Rome (he won the Prix de Rome during World War II), Greece, Mexico, and on the island of St. Thomas. The text, written by his daughter Jane (the baby in One Morning in Maine) is personal, not scholarly, and gives a comprehensive overview of McCloskey’s career while simultaneously sharing page after page of paintings and sketches that expose a depth of work that won’t disappoint.

Elizabeth Fram

Eye of the Needle

Tag Archives: Robert McCloskey

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Giving Intuition its Due