Category Archives: Artists

The Secret Treasures of Pattern

I have been thinking a lot about the entity of pattern these past two weeks.
Mostly, that is because of this new piece I’m working on and my ongoing exploration of combining embroidery with an assortment of resist dye techniques, but it’s also due to a talk I listened to during the recent Surface Design Association online conference.

I left you last time having just completed the white-on-white embroidery of this piece. Look back to that post to refresh your memory as to where things stood at that point. It took me some time to decide how to dye this piece in the next step. Unfortunately, too many layers of material prevented the dye from seeping throughout as much as I had hoped, so the only answer was to take a second pass with a new layer of dye, creating an additional pattern. The blue grid you see here was drawn as a water-soluble guideline for the stitches that would be the basis for that design.

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines ‘pattern’ as something that is regular and repeated within the context of design, behavior, or the way in which something happens. It also pairs the idea of pattern/design with the word decorative, a much-too superficial viewpoint, if you ask me.

Once the stitches were in place and tightly drawn up, the whole piece was dipped in dye. You have to appreciate unexpected amusements along the way …doesn’t this look like a brain?

During the SDA panel discussion mentioned above, the artist Chandra D. Cox opened the door to thinking about pattern in different and more consequential terms: as a means for expressing identity.

Chandra D. Cox, Ashanti, 2003. Acrylic on wood, 72 x 18 x 5 inches. Photo: Michael Zirkle. Reference: Surfacedesign.org I find the pieces in this series incredibly moving. In her statement, Cox writes: “The concept behind these painted structures is meant to symbolize the end of one culture and the beginning of another…The forms are three dimensional, minimalist and ubiquitous. The silhouette recalls a “shotgun house,” a style of southern vernacular architecture with cultural roots tracing from Africa to the Caribbean and American soil…The portals placed on their sides suggest ships and allude to ‘the middle passage of human cargo’. The center is open representing a doorway. A narrow aperture recalls the arrow loops of a castle, through which, emaciated from starvation, newly enslaved Africans were forced into the belly of awaiting ships. This entryway becomes the site and repository of a history and memory, the threshold to a new beginning.” Excerpted from First Person: “I Remember Where I Come From”, by Chandra D. Cox, Surface Design Journal Winter 2021, pg 44 & 45.

In her series “The Doors of No Return – I Remember Where I Come From” Cox employs a variety of traditional African patterns to reference and pay homage to her ancestors. She writes: “The pattern designs (I use) serve as both aesthetic adornment and an emblem for African textiles as conveyers of identities and secret messages”. She goes on to note that “This ancient cultural practice of messaging through pattern (has) withstood centuries of enslavement by adapting and transmuting the encoding”. (Think of the quilts that were used to covertly point the way on the Underground Railroad). She further acknowledges adaptations of pattern as present-day signifiers of identity and territory in urban culture.

I’m much happier now that there is pattern covering the whole piece.

Considering that pattern is ubiquitous, I am fascinated by the deeper perspective of it existing beyond embellishment. I’d love to learn more about it as a marker of identity. If you are aware of any books, articles or links on the subject, please let me know. Examples that most readily come to mind include Scottish tartans and the knitted patterns worn by the fisherman of the Aran Islands, but there must be innumerable other instances.

Bringing the image to life. These very first steps are a chance to begin to play with color in tandem with the patterns of the background dye and the original embroidery.

Meanwhile, the Shibori patterns I use in my work are all adaptations and appropriations of the discoveries and artistry of Japanese masters. In that light, I’m interested to learn more about the patterns of my English ancestry, perhaps discovering a well to draw from in the future. What is there to uncover about the identities Anglo-Saxon designs portray beyond, say, the wealth (or lack thereof) expressed through the materials used to create them? Such an interesting subject.

Highs and Lows

If there is one word I feel best represents the month of January, it is “possibility”.
There’s much to be said for the mental high that comes with metaphorically flipping to a fresh page during the first weeks of each new year, don’t you agree?

In order to set that stage I’ve learned that, even though my to-do list in December is always overflowing, making time during the last month of the year to both reassess the past 12 months and to formulate a game plan for the next 12, pays off in spades come January. The resulting sense of a clear head is a treasured gift to myself.

Admittedly, it’s a bit of a regimented chore but, as one of my artistic heroes, painter Wayne Thiebaud, is quoted as saying: “Discipline is not a restriction but an aid to freedom”. I’ve come to realize that wisdom applies to all aspects of an art practice.

Hanger Diptych ©1986 Elizabeth Fram, Pastel on paper, 28 x 16.5 x 28 inches The images in this post reach pretty far back, which is obvious from the sketchy photos. In 1985-86 I began working with pastels, loving them as a source of saturated color. Having just moved out west, I soon discovered the work of Wayne Thiebaud and it became a huge inspiration, as is clearly evidenced in these ancient pieces.

Having put in the necessary work before the holidays, I can now move forward with a ready-made framework to lean upon that takes the guesswork out of where I’m headed in 2022. My mind is now freer and more receptive to the conceptual connections that are the meat of any creative practice…hence the feeling of possibility.

On a low note though, I was saddened to learn that Thiebaud died on December 25th at 101. It was his vibrant use of color that first grabbed me almost four decades ago, but my love affair with his work has remained constant ever since. As I’ve evolved as an artist, so have the lessons I’ve picked up from his work. Most recently I have been appreciating him for being, as his NYTimes obituary so aptly noted, “a virtuoso of the everyday and its deep, subtle symbolism”, — a subject that cuts close to my own artistic objectives.

I am envious of the students at UC Davis who had the opportunity to learn directly from him. Everything I’ve read and heard portrays him as a very generous teacher as well as a truly nice guy. It seems he worked through the highs and lows of his long career by always remaining true to himself and to his love of his work.
RIP Mr. Thiebaud, and thank you for your gifts which will continue to benefit us all.

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Two last notes before you go:

I’m so pleased to announce I now have a web shop up and running on my website. Please stop by and browse!
For now, the shop includes only the stitched-watercolor House & Garden series from this last summer, but I will be adding more pieces to it as the year progresses and time allows. That said, pretty much all my work is for sale if it hasn’t already sold, so please don’t hesitate to inquire if you’re interested in a piece you don’t see in the shop. Thank you!

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And finally, check out Glen Martin Taylor’s brilliant work. I know I’ll never look at a teacup or placesetting in quite the same way. @glenmartintaylor on Instagram.

Welcome Fall!

My kids might not be that amused, but back in the day I used to get a kick out of Staples’ “The most wonderful time of the year” commercial. Aside from the obvious, it struck a chord because, no matter how old I get, I doubt I’ll ever outgrow the feeling that September is a time of fresh beginnings, carrying with it the possibility and excitement of learning.

Marty ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Ink and watercolor on paper, 11 x 8 inches What used to be the Sktchy app is now called “Museum by Sktchy“. It’s billed as “an unlimited supply of portrait subjects right in your pocket” and is a great resource for practice.

This year is no different. The availability of so many online learning platforms makes it incredibly easy and convenient to explore all sorts of art disciplines. I took advantage of Labor Day bundle pricing and bought several courses that will feed both my stitching and drawing needs throughout the fall.

A number of the instructors I’ve “studied” with in the past are artists whose work I had followed through Urban Sketchers and Instagram, so I was familiar with the quality of their ideas and process. And while I’m a huge fan of books, a video format has different advantages. True, it’s not the same as being part of an in-person group, but you still have the ability to ask questions, get feedback, follow your own timeline and, in most cases, have access to your classes “forever”.

Below are the 3 platforms I’ve had experience with and the type of classes I’ve taken with them. There is much more to choose from than what I’ve listed here, so do some research to see what you might find that appeals to your needs.

Domestika – Drawing, Painting, & Embroidery
This is my current favorite — for the quality of the content, presentation and instructors. Founded in Spain, Domestika is now headquartered in San Francisco. I find the fact that most of the instructors are internationally based to be an advantage since they bring something slightly different to the table by virtue of their home culture. With that in mind, you should be aware that many of the classes are not presented in English and as a result rely on subtitles.
Sktchy Art School (no, that’s not a typo) – Drawing, Making natural inks, & Anatomy
The anatomy course was especially good and this is a case where the video format really shines. There are tons of books available on the subject, but I found it particularly helpful to follow along as the instructor used Procreate to uncover and describe layers of bone, muscle and skin, highlighting their affect upon each other. She explained, both verbally and through drawing, how all those elements work together, while providing guideposts to keep in mind for my own drawing.
Sktchy classes also include international instructors who, to my knowledge, all speak in English.
Craftsy – Sketching & Perspective
I think this may have been one of the first online art class apps available and I was very pleased with the courses I chose. But beware: this platform has changed to a subscription format and for that reason I’m no longer interested in their offerings — but that’s just me. I do still have access to the classes I bought before the change.

A quick search online came up with many more options (check the links listed below). I’m sure you can find pretty much whatever you might want if you dig around.

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If you missed this post about “Numina” on Colossal and could use a dose of pure “fantastic”, check out this brief video about Meow Wolf’s latest – more than 70 installations by 300 artist across four floors. Kind of makes one’s heart beat faster with a sense of happiness and hope.

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On a completely different note….
Soon after moving to Vermont I met Dianne Shullenberger, who is easily the most generous artist I have ever known. Our friendship has been an ongoing source of joy and mutual support ever since. Over the years I have watched as she has pushed forward with her own work while never failing to reach out to bolster me and many others on our own creative journeys. When Dianne asked if I would be willing to help her spread the word about an upcoming event she’s planning in anticipation of flipping the page to a new chapter in her life, I gladly said yes.

Spring Rush ©Dianne Shullenberger, 13 x 20 inches, 23 x 30 framed

Please visit Dianne’s website to take in the beauty of her fabric collages and colored pencil drawings, all of which are grounded in her love of nature and the atmospheric details of specific places. She will be having a Moving Sale during Vermont Open Studio Weekend on October 2 & 3, from 10-5. She is offering a 20% discount on all work over $500. Please feel free to contact her before Open Studio to set up an appointment to visit her gallery or to discuss any work that has caught your eye. You can reach her via email: vtdianne@hotmail.com or phone: 802-899-4993

Down The Rabbit Hole

In looking for new subjects to draw, I’ve been seeking out photos of my artistic heroes. With very little effort, one can find some pretty remarkable images online.

Admittedly, searching in this way can become a bit of a rabbit hole if you aren’t careful. It’s easy to get caught up in unanticipated articles and links. Yet perusing these old photos also offers a tiny peek into the person behind the giant — a touchstone more intimate than critical essays and curatorial art-speak can offer.

As far as practicing my drawing is concerned, the fact that the majority of these resources are black and white plays to my advantage. Their lack of color gives me the opportunity to stretch by adding and working with various hues as I see fit, pushing the limits of what I know so far.

I’m coming to recognize that, even when using a photographic reference, drawing facial features is an exercise in empathy. Unlike a still life, there is a human being behind the shapes and forms one is diligently trying to capture. Alice Neel stated that she was painting her subjects’ souls in addition to their bodies. While I’m still working on more rudimentary levels of portrayal, I do find myself thinking about the person I am drawing, wondering how a conversation might unfold and what I might learn if I were lucky enough to have any of these heroes actually sitting in front of me.

YouTube, it turns out, can be a pretty decent substitute by providing the opportunity to hear artists (at least those from the 20th & 21st centuries) speak for themselves. I thoroughly enjoyed this 1978 video of Neel. She reminds me of my grandmother in many ways — partly because they were born around the same time and Neel’s look with the hat and chunky necklace is very reminiscent of the elder ladies in my family as I was growing up. But beyond that, also like my grandmother, Neel’s confidence and down to earth tell-it-like-it-was attitude captured in this interview is endearingly human.

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I have great admiration for reportage illustrators and have written about them before. For court illustrator Jane Rosenberg, the Derek Chauvin trial in times of COVID presented a far steeper set of challenges than I am experiencing in just trying to keep up a regular practice. It was interesting to see the results of her labors and to read about her experience in this New York Times article. The New York Post published a much deeper article about her career last September, as she remembered “40 years of legendary bad guys”.

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Instagram of the Week

Lara Blanchard is a multi-disciplinary French artist who makes embroidered etchings and textile-based sculptures. That description doesn’t begin to do her work justice. It is both fantastic and fantastical; be sure to check out her Instagram feed @laraorsolupa.

Four Ways To Add Color To Stick Season

I think it’s safe to say that the last gasp of summer is now behind us. That fact, paired with the latest COVID restrictions on social interactions here in Vermont, point to more time for reading and digging into creative outlets, online and otherwise.

November Trees

It’s a time when we can all use a bit more color in our day-to-day, so I thought I’d share a few of the things that have brightened my outlook:

I’ve been enjoying the American Craft Council’s weekly post “The Queue”. It’s a series of interviews with 2020 ACC Awards honorees, often including a short video of the artist. The ACC is a wonderful resource; I encourage you to spend some time exploring the Stories section of their website. The satirical sculptures of recently featured Bob Trotman caught my eye several years ago, so I was happy to become reacquainted with his work on a deeper level via “The Queue”. With a background in philosophy, not art, Trotman was originally most interested in studying the idea of the individual. But as he developed an art career, his concerns turned toward examining the machinations of society. As a result, his artistic commentary is largely aimed toward money and power in America.
Considering the unprecedented behavior we have been witnessing from our out-going president and his enablers, Trotman’s powerful voice is more resonate than ever.
Another resource that delicately walks the line between delightful and educational is Vermont painter Susan Abbott’s Painting Notes Blog. Always enriching without being didactic, Susan shares her extensive knowledge of art history from both a visual and personal angle. She shines a contemporary light upon the artists and works that have gone before us, and who have laid a path for us to follow. If you’re interested in book suggestions from Susan, look for her generous response to my question at the very end of the comments section of this post.
Beginning with the lock-down last spring, several major textile organizations joined forces to offer weekly “Textile Talks” — video presentations and panel discussions that surround a huge variety of subjects related to textile art.
All can be accessed via YouTube.
The recent “creative discussion” between color icon Kaffe Fassett and his niece Erin Lee Gafill covers their personal history as well as the habit they’ve developed of painting side-by-side. They’ve recently released a book of these parallel works called Color Duets. Anyone who knows and admires Fassett’s work and his long, illustrious career will enjoy the conversation. Particularly inspiring is the way Fassett straddles different media while maintaining the consistent thread (sorry for the pun) of color.
And finally, if you too are a student of color, you know it’s hard to beat a garden – flower or vegetable – for the lessons it can teach. Our beds may be all buttoned up for the winter, but even as the snow flies we can dream about next year’s glory…while learning a thing or two along the way. Two resources that will be scratching the color itch for me this winter are Darroch and Michael Putnam’s Flower Color Guide and the Floret Flowers website. There are plenty of lessons to be gleaned from each, but perhaps more importantly during these crazy, stressful days, they both offer pure, visual delight.

Flower Color Guide

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With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I can’t let the occasion pass without saying how grateful I am that you choose to join me here every other week, sharing your ideas and comments along the way. Please accept the suggestions above as a token of my gratitude. Be well and wear your mask. We’re all in this together.

Linda ©2020 Elizabeth Fram, Ink, graphite, and colored pencil on paper, 11 x 8.8 inches. It’s always fun to see what each person chooses to include in the selfie they send me, because it’s a further window into who they are. Linda made the paper batik behind her and I think it’s an apt reflection of her bright spirit. All 13 pieces in my COVID-19 Selfie series can be seen together on my website.

Small Things Adding Up To Big Things

There isn’t much in my process that quite matches the excitement of undoing the resist stitching or wrapping that was painstakingly put in place before a dye bath. Wonderful surprises are always revealed.

Dye1

Sure, there are things one can do to nudge the process along; with time one learns about the various ways colors will mix and how multiple layers will absorb (or not absorb) the dye. But there are also rich rewards in the tiny unexpected passages that appear through pure kismet.

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As with any venture, outcomes always vary in success. But without fail, there is at least one area of wonder to be found in each piece, even if only a couple of square inches within a whole yard of fabric.

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Working on my little houses, especially the ones without embroidery, has given me an opportunity to appreciate and highlight some of the more beautiful passages of pattern and color that might get overlooked in a bigger field. Spotlighting those sections within the small parameters of a wall or a roof is somewhat akin to opening the curtains in a dark room, allowing light and color from outside to burst through the window frame into the space, emphasizing individual elements that might not be noticed if you were sitting outdoors with the full scope of your vision in front of you.

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Along this vein of paying attention to small areas for their particular visual interest (sorry for the semi-awkward segue here), in addition to the fact of bigger matters surrounding the post office, I am worried about what I think of as one of the best (and smallest) elements the USPS has to offer: the postage stamp. Aside from being a way to dress up the mail by adding a little art to the pedestrian, stamps are one of the most public and cost effective ways that we honor our artists in this country.

Dye4

My father taught me to appreciate stamps years ago, so I am always on the lookout for something beyond the generic American flag to elevate my personal snail-mail. Most recipients probably never notice, but my choice is the final bit of care that finishes any hand-written note.

Asawa Stamps

What a pleasure it was to walk into my local PO branch last week and to buy a 20-stamp sheet of 10 different miniature images of the lyrical work of Ruth Asawa.

Since our son moved to the Bay Area in 2015, I’ve crossed paths with numerous Asawa works. Perhaps the most memorable being a permanent installation of 15 of her pieces in the Education Tower of The de Young Museum in Golden Gate Park.

Asawa installation in the Nancy B. and Jake L. Hamon Education Tower of The de Young Museum, San Francisco Photo credit: ruthasawa.com

There has been a lot written about Asawa concurrent with the issuing of these stamps. This recent article by Thessaly La Force in the NY Times is quite comprehensive. Asawa is yet another female artist who created consistently throughout her long life, forging ahead despite little recognition, and in tandem with the consuming business of raising a family of six children, becoming an educator, and being an activist. Imprisoned as a teenager in Japanese internment camps, she endured prejudice and racism but never saw herself as a victim. She just kept moving forward. Her recognition as an American Master is long overdue.

Ruth Asawa, detail

Below are several Asawa quotes that are particularly resonant for me. They hold a lot of wisdom. Hopefully you will find something in them that rings true for you as well.

It’s important to learn how to use your small bits of time. All those begin to count up. It’s not the long amounts of time you have that are important. You should learn how to use your snatches of time when they are given to you.

Sculpture is like farming. If you just keep at it, you can get quite a lot done.

I am able to take a wire line and go into the air and define the air without stealing from anyone. A line can enclose and define space while letting the air remain air.

An artist is not special. An artist is an ordinary person who can take ordinary things and make them special.

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This weekend marks the 28th South End Art Hop in Burlington, with curated exhibitions to follow for the next 1-3 months. As with so many happenings right now, this year’s Art Hop will primarily be a digital event with as many in-person portions as possible. Visit the link above to learn more and for the full program guide and schedule.

I have two pieces in the affiliated 2020 SEABA Art Hop Juried Show:

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You can see them and preview the show now. Please return to vote for the People’s Choice Award, which will go live on that link Friday 09/11 at noon through Sunday 09/13 at 7pm.

Downeast Alchemist

Don’t you love it when you come across the unexpected?

When visiting the Farnsworth Museum in Rockland, Maine last month, the last gallery I walked through held a wonderful surprise. As something of a temple to Maine art, artists, and the state itself, the Farnsworth is filled with works that express a love for the landscape, seascapes, people, and industry that make Maine the special place it is. For the most part, I would say the collection spans the early 19th century to the late 20th. In such a relatively traditional environment, happening upon Brian White’s piece Rose Arbor / Sea Street was a refreshing anomaly.

Rose Arbor / Sea Street, Brian White, 2006, Welded copper tubing, shells, Gaufrage velvet

Unquestionably, White’s piece is a confection; a dress formed of metal, covered in roses and leaves that one soon realizes are made of thousands of tiny shells. The work communicates beauty and strength, two characteristics that one might also associate with Maine. I tend to be attracted to work where the materials don’t necessarily jive with what is being portrayed, thus nudging the imagination via unexpected parallels. Take a look at Fraser Smith’s wood carved “textiles” for another example of this approach.

The gallery card adjacent to the work says of White: “his distinctive body of work reflects his sensitivity to materials and at the same time pays homage to the memory of people and events past and present, often referencing the sea”. I searched for more information on him and discovered very little. But check out John Ames “Frog Pond Journal” blog and the Peabody Essex Museum site to see others of his imaginative pieces and to gain a glimpse into White’s world.

Rose Arbor / Sea Street, detail

Having grown up on the Maine coast and logged my fair share of solitary hours on a rocky beach, I found depths to this piece beyond the obvious use of unexpected found materials. It shot me back through time, allowing me to indulge memories of childhood imaginary worlds created out of tide pool treasures and detritus washed up on the shore. What a gift of connection that is.

Read Paula Crown’s article Thinking Like an Artist – Translating Ideas into Form while keeping White’s work in the back of your mind as context. Both left me with an appreciation of the broad alchemy of art-making and how it shapes our world.

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 ©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!

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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…

Norway, Part 2

Time and exposure have taught me that the biggest gap in my art education relates to international art and artists beyond the expected European and Asian classics. A couple of years ago I was amazed when visiting the AGO Museum in Toronto at how many iconic Canadian artists I’d never heard of. That’s just not right. Therefore, one of the real joys of travel has become the opportunity to learn more about some of the major artists within the country I’m visiting.

Edvard Munch, Flirting in the Park, 1942, Oil on Canvas How many other paintings by Munch can you call to mind besides The Scream? Most of what we read about Munch concerns his obsession with psychological themes, but after seeing so many of his paintings, my lasting impression of his work is that he was an admirable colorist.

As promised, this week I’m going to take you off the streets of Norway and into the Munch and Kode Museums of Oslo and Bergen for a more formal view of Norwegian art. My picks tend to reflect the various concepts that were floating in the back of my mind at the time, due in large part to my questions and concerns regarding the piece I hadn’t quite finished before leaving for vacation.

Edvard Munch, Lucien Dedichen and Jappe Nilssen, 1925, Oil on canvas Talk about making color sing! The magenta underlayer of Dedichen’s blue suit, paired with the bright orange book cover and other objects on the table, in combination with the strong turquoise that defines the walls and corners of the room, elevate this painting of the physician Dedichen and writer/art critic Nilssen to an exhilarating degree.

There is plenty of ground to cover, so put your feet up and I will do my best to pull together the images that follow with the threads of what struck me as important about them. It will come as no surprise that portraits and use of color were utmost in my mind as I made my way through the various galleries of both museums. To a large degree, that was because of this piece I have been working on all spring.

First, although I haven’t written about it since the end of April (for a reminder click here), I have been chipping away continually at this portrait. My final challenge was figuring out how to set the relatively dark figure apart from its very dark background without obscuring the delicate luminescence of the unevenly dyed silk. My goal is usually to straddle a line between the image portrayed and the surface textures of which it is comprised. By stitching judiciously, while simultaneously exploring color in unexpected ways, I think I’ve come as close as I could hope in meeting that objective.

For those of you who have asked, here is the life drawing that inspired it.

I usually try to include more than just head and shoulders in my life drawings by squeezing in as much of the figure as possible, as well as bits of the surrounding area. I think this makes for more interesting compositions. Yet there are certainly instances where those rules can be broken.

Edvard Munch, Stanislaw Przybyszewski, 1894, Casein and distemper on canvas. This floating head portrait of the Polish novelist was one of the first pieces I saw in the Munch Museum. Aside from being intrigued by the ‘Wizard of Oz’ nature of the portrait, I couldn’t help but make a connection between the thin glazes of atmospheric paint and similar effects that are possible via variation in dye saturation on silk.

Although it’s usually the back story of the subject that draws me into a formal portrait, these pieces from the Kode Museum in Bergen were intriguing for their stylistic attributes.

Eilif Peterssen, Old Woman, 1888, Oil on Canvas What lies behind those icy blue eyes? There is so much personality radiating from this woman, accentuated by the somewhat mystifying background of restrained color. The tones of her skin seem so real. I was quite attracted to the contemporary feel of this more than 130 year old painting.

It’s unfortunate that these striking side-by-side portraits (above and below) were each titled “Old Woman” Seriously, couldn’t each artist have been a little more imaginative?

Jean Heiberg, Old Woman, 1909, Oil on canvas In a country famous for its knitwear, I was thrilled to come across this painting highlighting a pastime that must have long been ubiquitous, certainly in the early 1900s.

While the contrast and depth of color in this portrait is striking in its own right, it was the composition which caught my eye, bringing to mind my own penchant for asymmetrical placement of objects with shadows that have as much to say as the main figure.

Ludvig Karsten, Red Hair, 1907, Oil on Canvas

Many of Munch’s works are thinly painted, often with the canvas showing through. It was a quality for which he was often criticized. But I was drawn to that aspect in a number of his pieces because it left such a clear path toward following his process, and it encouraged me in my decision to not fully fill in The Woolgatherer with stitches. The piece below is an excellent example. An initial view might lead one to think it is unfinished, but his signature in the upper right corner suggests otherwise.

Edvard Munch, Mrs. Schwarz, 1906, Oil on Canvas

Munch’s thoughtful use of color, even in this sketchy image of Mrs Schwarz, is a wonderful study in brevity. Henrik Lund’s portrait below, while more visually verbose, also provides much to consider in its use of marks and color.

Henrik Lund, Prime Minister Christian Michelsen, 1916 The use of color in this piece struck me: the green right sleeve contrasted with the blue lapel, and the various hues used to add depth and definition to elements throughout – the walls, chair, curtain, window sill and sash. It made me feel I’m not too far off track in my color explorations in The Woolgatherer, and serves as encouragement to keep experimenting.

If you are still with me, thank you.
I hope you too have been pleasantly surprised and inspired by this brief peek into these Norwegian masters’ work, admittedly from my pointed perspective.

Finally, my museum report wouldn’t be complete without a quick dive into one of the temporary exhibits that, quite frankly, was the main draw (for me) to Bergen’s Kode Museum. The dance between the classic and the contemporary made for a very satisfactory visit.

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The work of textile artist Kari Dyrdal and ceramicists Torbjørn Kvasbø and Marit Tingleff is nothing short of monumental in their exhibit “Forces”. To hear them each discuss their practices and processes, please watch these three brief subtitled videos, which convey their ideas much better than I could hope to do. I will leave you with a selection of my favorites from their work. Enjoy!

Kari Dyrdal – Pattern, repetition, color and material are all essential to Dyrdal’s computer generated tapestries. She is considered a forerunner in the field of digital textiles.

“I allow patterns to lead me like a compass, both the structures that are apparent and those that are not so easy to spot.”

Kari Dyrdal, Wall Sèvrres III, 2017, Mixed fiber, digital weave

Dyrdal purposely had this piece hung away from the wall so that visitors could observe the construction of the numerous panels from behind. This image gives a sense of the tremendous scale of the piece.

Kari Dyrdal, Red Sea, 2015, Mixed fiber, digital weave

Kari Dyrdal, White Waters, 2015, Mixed fiber, digital weave

Kari Dyrdal, Wall Sèvres II, 2018, Mixed fiber, digital weave

Kari Dyrdal, Wall Stone, 2015, Mixed fiber, digital weave I was really intrigued with this means of displaying this piece. Of course one needs plenty of space, but what a fantastic way to give the work its due.

Torbjørn Kvasbø – Kvasbø writes of his work:

“Disturbing and ambiguous, immediate and overwhelming, beautiful and repulsive. All of this combined to form a readable whole (…) in perfect balance: like a killer punch to the solar plexus.”

I was struck by the way this piece seemed to be woven together – a suitable foil for Dyrdal’s tapestries.

Torbjørn Kvasbø, Stack Terracotta, 2014, Teracotta clay, unglazed, electric kiln

Marit Tingleff – This part of Tingleff’s statement is particularly strong and thought-provoking:

“I live in an age where I’m not really needed. My pots don’t fulfill any utility function other than that they can tell stories about other times and other utility functions. They have acquired the utility that art possesses, i.e. they can open people’s minds and trigger wonder, joy and indignation.

Marit Tingleff, Deep Green, 2006, Earthenware clay, slips, transparent glaze. I wish there had been measurements on this and the following pieces, or some way to give you a sense of scale. They are enormous – probably 4 to 5 feet wide and 3 feet high.

Marit Tingleff, Black and Orange Dish, 2006, Earthenware clay, slips, transparent glaze

Marit Tingleff, Wall Object with Blue Flower Ornament, 2005, Earthenware clay, slips, transparent glaze

So tell me what you think. What aspect of all this work resonates most with you?

Life in Miniature

Last week I finally visited the Fleming Museum’s exhibition “Small Worlds”. I didn’t want to miss it since I’ve never lost my childhood fascination for objects and environments sized down to fit a tinier self.

Miniature sculptures from Matt Neckers’ Vermont International Museum of Contemporary Art + Design

The added significance of small-scale representations (at this ripe age) is they are a way of revisiting and reconnecting with childhood imagination, in addition to being a kind of heaven for anyone who loves details. This exhibition shows that I am not the only one enchanted by a world in miniature, nor am I alone in appreciating the range of possibilities such models present for those who like to dream about and play with manipulating the world as they see fit.

The work of two of the artists stood out.

Mohamad Hafez makes emotionally moving replicas of Syrian buildings on a tiny scale. Marred by war’s destruction, these model buildings uphold a hopeful connection with the former stability and implied lives of those who once inhabited them. Each piece reverberates with a sense of nostalgia and homesickness for the home Hafez may never be able to return to. As an architect, he represents in minute detail the beauty of Syrian architecture, yet that is but one element of the work’s power.

Mohamad Hafez, Hiraeth, 2016, Plaster, paint, antique toy tricycle, found objects, rusted metal, and antique wood veneer, 61 x 35 x 21 inches

The piece above is movingly entitled Hiraeth, a word that means a longing for one’s homeland — not mere homesickness, but an expression of the bond one feels with one’s home country when separated from it. The work sharply personifies the devastation of a conflict we only read about from safety and distance.

You may have already seen Matt Neckers’ work which has traveled across Vermont in the form of The Vermont International Museum of Contemporary Art + Design (VTIMoCA+D), a tongue-in-cheek series of mini art galleries contained within a vintage camper. I loved my dollhouse growing up, but as I think back on it, the miniature environment fascinated me more than whatever stories I was concocting with my dolls, and Neckers’ museum satisfies that purpose as well. His tiny galleries, complete with self-created contemporary artwork, are contained within antique suitcases and a vintage refrigerator; I love the idea of a world created in an unexpected space, making its discovery all the more magical.

Matt Neckers, VTIMoCA+D, Suitcase Gallery I, 2018, Suitcase, wood, glue, various miniature artworks, created in a variety of media

Neckers’ pieces balance between being serious enough to maintain credibility without losing their merry playfulness — it’s an enjoyable line for viewers to straddle.

There was a third piece, made by Allison May Kiphuth, that caught my attention, but the reason had nothing to do with scale. Come back next week to learn what I mean.

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And since we’re on the subject of miniatures…
When we were in Amsterdam several years ago, I was determined to get to the Central Library to see the Mouse Mansion on display there. Downstairs, in the children’s department, is a magical world in miniature that will captivate a child of any age. Over 6 feet wide and more than 9 feet tall, this conglomeration of over one hundred intricately appointed rooms was built over a period of years by Karina Shaapman. One can easily get lost in the myriad details. It’s definitely worth putting on your checklist for your next trip to Amsterdam.

Karina Shaapman, Mouse Mansion