Category Archives: Artists

A High Bar

When was the last time you saw a portrait that truly made you think…an image that asked more of you than simply observing another human’s likeness? This idea has been much on my mind as I work on my current series of post-Roe women. A portrait can and should be so much more than just a pretty (or not) face.

These close-ups show that I added stitching both before and after painting the image in this latest piece. Taking a leaf from previous work, I first used white cotton thread on the unpainted paper, knowing it would absorb pigment and allow for the texture of the stitches to melt into the image. Additional stitching after the paint had dried allowed for further definition of the “bars”. My goal is to show that post-Roe restrictions cut deeper than just a physical cage; taking away one’s autonomy is actually absorbed into the psyche of an individual.

In an unexpected instance of kismet, I was recently able to delve a bit deeper into this question by experiencing the work of a contemporary master of the genre, one who engages far beyond solely portraying an accurate visage.

Additional stitching is done with variegated silk thread after the painting is finished

I first became aware of Kehinde Wiley’s work with his celebrated 2018 portrait of Barack Obama. It was a thrill to have seen that painting in Chicago last year when the Obama Portraits began their official tour. My excitement was partly due to the cultural significance of the work, but also to my admiration for its subject. It’s indisputable that Wiley’s artistic facility is remarkable.

A couple of weekends ago, at The Huntington Library, Art Museum and Botanical Gardens of San Marino, CA, I was privileged to see another Wiley portrait in a context that reflects the mission behind much of his work: “disturb(ing) and interrupt(ing) tropes of portrait painting (by) blurring the boundaries between traditional and contemporary modes of representation…”. *

Kehinde Wiley A Portrait of a Young Gentleman

A Portrait of a Young Gentleman ©2021 Kehinde Wiley, oil on linen, 70 1/2 x 49 1/8 inches, collection of The Huntington Library, Art Museum and Botanical Gardens. From the label text: Kehinde Wiley’s “A Portrait of a Young Gentleman” glows. The sitter wears a tie-dye shirt and Vans sneakers, and he was likely scouted and street cast near the artist’s studio in Dakar, the coastal capital of Senegal. This beachy, cool young gentleman echoes his counterpart: Thomas Gainsborough’s “The Blue Boy”, painted some 250 years earlier, in The Huntington’s collection. …Wiley makes us see that self-fashioning, pomp, and posturing are qualities not only of eighteenth-century English society, but also of contemporary street fashion and global black culture. While Gainsborough’s figure stands in a landscape setting, Wiley’s model is ensconced in a field of psychedelic flowers, which both surround and obscure him. The floral background is based on a William Morris wallpaper pattern, similar to those in The Huntington’s collections.

Growing up in nearby Los Angeles, Wiley often visited the Thornton Portrait Gallery at the Huntington as a young person, becoming enamored of the style of the British grand manner portraits displayed there. But he was acutely aware that the people in those paintings didn’t look like him. In the gallery text, the Huntington notes that Wiley’s current work seeks to rectify the omission of Black and Brown subjects by appropriating and remixing classical stylistic elements in a way that is both a love letter to art history and a critique of it.

The Blue Boy 1770 Thomas Gainsborough, Oil on canvas, 70 5/8 x 48 3/4 in., Collection of The Huntington Library, Art Museum and Botanical Gardens

To commemorate the 100th anniversary of the 1921 purchase of Thomas Gainsborough’s “The Blue Boy”, Wiley was commissioned by the Huntington to create “A Portrait of a Young Gentleman”. The two paintings are the same size, set into identical frames (one gilt and the other painted black) with the subjects sharing a similar stance. “A Portrait of a Young Gentleman” literally faces-off against “The Blue Boy” in ‘High Noon-esque’ fashion. The two larger-than-life portraits bookend opposite ends of an enormous gallery that is filled with classic eighteenth century portraits, all of which speak to the conventions of glorification, history, wealth and prestige that Wiley’s contemporary depictions of urban young men call attention to and reference in a reflection on the complex issues of power.

Caged Again ©2022 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor, graphite and embroidery on paper, 12 x 9.5 in. This piece speaks to both the internal and external restraints that the draconian overturn of Roe places on women within this country, regardless of age.

The juxtaposition is thought-provoking, uncomfortable and ever-so-important.
Such is the power of art…and a high bar to aim for.

The central axis of the Huntington Botanical Gardens barely scratches the surface of the extensive delights that await. Mixing geometric forms within the lush organic shapes of flora is one of my favorite horticultural devices.

On a more general note, between the art museum, the extensive themed gardens and the library collections, there is much to learn and absorb at the Huntington; a half day was nowhere near enough time to spend there. The next time you head to Los Angeles, consider a side-trip to San Marino. My fingers are crossed I’m able to return one day.

*Excerpted from Wiley’s website

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As I write, I have been somewhat distracted by the movement of trees outside the window above my desk. They are electric with color, releasing their leaves to dart and swoop on the wind like pods of playful dolphins. I know for many this is a melancholy time of year, with winter soon to follow. But for me, it’s like the woods have put on their cheeriest party dress and are celebrating the last hurrah of a summer well-spent. Thinking somewhat along the same lines, check out the raucously exuberant draughtsmanship of Esteban del Valle – a party on the page!

Chipping Away at The List

My husband was recently bemoaning his seemingly endless project list.
It got me to thinking that, while superficially I too would love to check everything off my long string of to-do’s, in all honesty I don’t believe it’s a finish line either one of us really wants to cross, mainly because…then what? Seen from a certain perspective, always having something in the queue may be the secret that propels us forward.

I think the practice of making art is similar. If we’re doing it right, every day is a stretch leading to another stretch, and then another, and so on. It may seem like we want to get “there”, but do we really? Does “there” even exist? If every time I sat down to make something it just flowed out with ease, my guess is I’d get bored. Keep in mind that achieving a level of facility isn’t the same thing. For me at least, the challenges I set for myself and the resulting growth are perhaps more than half the point of doing the work in the first place. One could always use another 10,000 hours.

As I’ve been adding portraits to my sketchbook this month, I keep chipping away at assorted goals. My current “there” is to simplify, to make a conscious effort to rein myself in despite my love for detail and my desire to pack in lots of visual information. The big question is how does one do that while depicting a human’s individuality and alluding to what lies beneath the surface?

Along the way I’m discovering my own vocabulary, but I continue to look for pointers from other artists who seem to have figured out this mystery of distilling an image down to its essence. Joe Ciardiello sets a great example. His portraits capture a likeness and plenty of additional information with a relatively spare, but oh-so-expressive line. Often he fleshes the image out with just enough color to bring it further life, and/or offsetting that warmth with rich passages of black ink. Without fuss, his drawings seem to convey the soul of his subject. I’d love to be able to do that.

© Joe Ciardiello, Jimmy Smith

If we still lived in the mid-Atlantic, I would have enjoyed going to see Ciardiello’s recent exhibit “A Fistful of Drawings” at ArtYard in Frenchtown, NJ. However, I was able to listen to him talk about the show with Gil Roth on The Virtual Memories Show podcast. It was fascinating to hear him describe his thought processes and the technicalities of his approach, nevermind how heartening it was to recognize similarities between our working methods. He too begins each portrait with a subject’s eye, finding it key to a successful start. We share a preference for drawing older models: he says the lines of their faces reflect a deeper story — I just find the topography of an older face more interesting in general. And perhaps most reassuring of all, he freely admits to continuing to make many mistakes.
What could be more inspiring than that?

Paying Tribute

I was saddened to read last week that Jerry Uelsmann has died.
During college, we probably spent at least 95% of our time learning about art and artists of the past, but Uelsmann was a living artist who broke through that wall of antiquity.

Jerry Uelsmann, detail ©2022 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and gouache on paper, 12 x 9 inches. Working on these portraits is such good practice – but so humbling. I’m learning how important it is not to rush through the drawing phase. If I lay out the drawing and then leave it to come back to later, time and space make it easier to see where adjustments are needed.

Looking back, his work definitely had a formative impact on me. While I was intrigued by the ideology of the Dada movement and iconic surrealists like Dali, I found it hard to connect with much of their work. Jerry Uelsmann was a contemporary exception; his imagery spoke to me and stayed with me. His “artful juxtapositions”, as his NY Times obituary termed them, were both approachable and curious. Looking back, I think it was Uelsmann’s photo montages that first nudged me toward grasping the importance of looking for and creating unexpected connections.

I’ve always loved this image. This old dorm room poster is tacked to my office wall, where I still enjoy it every day.

The mystical quality of his photos pulled me in, appealing to my college-age self by feeding the desire to find meaning that comes with growing into adulthood. Yet even all these years later, his images still touch on something fundamental.

Electric Milk © Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor on paper, 30 x 22 inches. This ancient painting (c. 1979) was inspired by the surrealistic objective to defy reason and Uelsmann’s example of combining disparate objects.

Intellectually, the intent behind his imagery still remains just out of reach, but one can understand enough of his visual language to feel encouraged that translation is possible — perhaps through the vocabulary of dreams. The various elements within each finished image have enough relatability to give the resulting montages an essence of personal relevance despite their mystery. Ultimately, he poses riddles that connect to something within our deeper selves.

I still refer to this wonderful monograph for inspiration and escape.

Uelsmann was a pioneer, conjuring in the 1960s what he appropriately termed “the alchemy of the darkroom”. Photoshop may have made that form of magic accessible on a more universal scale, but I’ve yet to find work that contains the same haunting aura of myth which makes Uelsmann’s work so memorable.

Look Into the (Working) Mind of an Artist

First things first:
This week marks the opening of Transitions at Axel’s Gallery in Waterbury, VT. This show explores change – through both material and concept, as seen through the eyes and hands of members of the Vermont chapter of the Surface Design Association. It runs through the end of the month.

Ulysses’ Wave ©2014 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye, paint and embroidery on silk, 19″H x 38″W x 2.25″D. My piece in the show is a meditation on how so often life mimics nature. How we see change coming from a distance, feel we are prepared, but are somehow shocked when it arrives. Strips of raw silk, hand-dyed to gradually transition from bright green to a subdued neutral, abruptly end in blue. Over-dyed patterns, created via stitched-resist and further enhanced with embroidery and paint, reinforce a sense of continuity. They roil and swell, not unlike a massive wave that, despite seeing it coming, still takes your breath away as it crashes into you. Read more about the creation and concept behind this piece, in real time.

I’ll be at the Artist Reception Saturday, April 9th, 4-6pm. Please join us!

Transitions Post Card

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Now for our regularly scheduled programming…
I owe a debt of gratitude to the friend who mentioned last month that she was reading Walter Isaacson’s biography of Leonardo da Vinci. When the book first came out in 2017, I made a mental note to add it to my TBR list in anticipation of the time when demand at the library would calm down. But of course I forgot. Thanks to her recent reminder, I finally followed through.

It was a fascinating read.
While no one would ever question Leonardo’s genius, Isaacson uncovers just how far-reaching and fascinating his mind truly was as he balanced art with science. One reviewer of the book alluded to how fans of traditional biographies might take issue with the heavy emphasis on art history, Renaissance Italy and Isaacson’s focus on painting and other artistic techniques over a dissection of Leonardo’s personal life. But that criticism never occurred to me; I think the author had the proportion of one to the other exactly right.

It’s true, this book concentrates more on Leonardo’s creativity and his work than on the finer details of his personality. But even so, Isaacson includes more than enough information about Leonardo as an individual to give one a healthy sense of him as a person, what was important to him and how his personality affected his outlook and, in turn, his work.

A page from Leonardo’s notebooks, with illustrations and notations about the embryology of the human fetus.

In the final chapter, the reader is offered a compilation list of 20 “lessons” encapsulating Leonardo’s unparalleled creativity, with the suggestion that they are skills we too can access. I’m paraphrasing several below which struck me as particularly worth passing on.

Be relentlessly curious
Go down rabbit holes – drill down for the pure joy of geeking-out.
Procrastinate (gather facts and let them simmer) – creativity requires time for ideas to marinate and for intuitions to gel
Collaborate. Innovation is a team sport; creativity is a collaborative endeavor
Take notes on paper. Leonardo’s notebooks are still around to astonish us

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It is a huge bonus that Isaacson’s biography contains plenty of accompanying illustrations of Leonardo’s drawings, paintings and pages from his notebooks — all of which provide a fuller glimpse into the way he kept track of and teased out ideas. With that in mind, if you’re able, please make a trip to the Highland Center for the Arts in Greensboro to catch their current exhibition: Frank Woods Minor Works.

Three self-portraits ©Frank Woods

The appellation of “minor” is somewhat misleading; there is nothing minor about Frank’s work. I was thrilled and inspired to see an exhibit of working drawings and sketches that, while perhaps initially created as a platform upon which larger work would be built, have much to say in their own right. It’s always a privilege to get a feeling for an artist’s process and to have a bit of access into how s/he works through ideas. Having such a window into an artist’s mind – especially one whose work I respect as much as Frank’s – or Leonardo’s for that matter – is a gift indeed.

This image of developmental sketches, next to the final piece that evolved from them, shows my personal approach to working drawings. I, too, maintain a notebook/sketchbook to keep track of fleeting ideas as they occur to me and to record notes from all sorts of sources: meetings, reading, workshops, etc. It’s helpful to have everything in one place and I definitely prefer analog to digital. FYI: I’m a big fan of Dingbats Eco-Friendly Notebooks ; there are a variety of options available. Snow Moon, ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk with foraged branches, 18.5″H x 9″W x 7.5″D, Private Collection. Photo: Paul Rogers Photography

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Last, but not least – apologies for the repeat blog delivery a week ago. I definitely don’t want to gum up your inbox. Without straying too far into TMI territory, let’s just say MailChimp automatic delivery has been something of a challenge lately.

As I write this, my fingers are crossed that the issue is now fixed. But I won’t know for sure until after this post’s scheduled delivery time (Friday @ 4:00am ET). Meanwhile, your patience is and has been greatly appreciated.

Unexpected Gifts

I’ve been thinking lately about how, despite the ups and downs that come with wending one’s way through a global pandemic, there have still been some truly unexpected bright spots over the past two years.

Considering all that is happening around the world these days, it would be foolish to take anything for granted. And perhaps the enormity of the world’s current problems explains why it’s the little moments in life that offer the greatest reprieve and joy right now.

WH Auden ©2022 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and pencil on paper, 12 x 9 inches I made this portrait after reading Elisa Gabbert’s fabulous interactive feature “A Poem (and a Painting) About the Suffering that Hides in Plain Sight”, which appeared in the NY Times on March 6th. Her piece centers on Auden’s poem “Musée des Beaux Arts”. I found it very moving — another unexpected gift.

Two particular highlights that have come my way in the past 12 months were a total surprise. In both instances, I thought I was making a relatively small contribution to lighten someone else’s load, but truthfully, I’m the one who walked away with gifts far greater than earned or than I would have thought possible.

Thank you to my local art supplier, The Drawing Board, for coming up with the brilliant idea of a monthly watercolor subscription last year. When I signed up I wasn’t sure I needed a new half-pan of paint each month – but it seemed like an easy and fun way to support a local enterprise at a time when no one knew what was lurking around the corner for any business.

The thing is, I got way more out of that subscription than I ever would have dreamed. Soon I couldn’t wait to see the regular envelope which included not only the promised paint, but also other supply surprises (paper samples, brushes, a sponge, drawing tools, etc.). As Covid dragged on, each arrival became something of an event that was just as exciting and as eagerly anticipated as when the Scholastic book order arrived in elementary school. Remember those days?

On top of that, I’m super glad to have added Daniel Smith’s Genuine Serpentine, Rose of Ultramarine, Amethyst Genuine and Mayan Dark Blue to my palette. I’m not sure I would have tried them otherwise, but they are remarkably versatile and now an integral part of my kit.

Palette

The other highlight I wanted to share with you comes in the form of a daily email from artist Janet Van Fleet, who is participating in the March Arts Marathon to benefit the Central Vermont Refugee Action Network. Every day this month she sends donors a brief recap with images of her art career as she ‘looks over her shoulder’ at her creative journey. It’s a tremendous commitment and amount of work on her part, but for those of us who follow, it has been a delight that marks how thoroughly engaged Janet is with the world, its joys and its woes. The whole exercise has made me realize how often artists’ creative paths are overlooked, and how important they are to understanding the development of someone’s work.

To a great degree, I think the practice of art is a form of translation. One of the qualities I most value about it and the people who create it, is the ability to conjure unexpected and enlightening connections — associations that strike both a universal and a personal chord with viewers. Visual analogies are a strong means for making ideas and emotions relatable and palpable.

The Beginning © Janet Van Fleet, Oil on board with wine foils. Included in her 2019 exhibit “Vanishment” in the Vermont Supreme Court lobby, this and the painting below call attention to the devastating reality that we humans are killing off other species at alarming rates.

Please visit Janet’s website to see the breadth of her work. Look closely and you will see she is a master of metaphor. She tackles weighty subject matter without ever losing sight of the sheer joy of life. That’s a pretty impressive juggling act.

The End © Janet Van Fleet, Oil on board with wine foils

Her short film, March of the Teapots, will give you a sense of her marvelous imagination. And I trust it might be an unexpected gift for you today.

The past two years have been a long haul, but think about it — who or what has made small moments monumental for you? Whatever the answer, I’ll bet you didn’t see it coming.

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I recently discovered the sprightly work of M. Louise Stanley. If you curious about someone who combines her sketchbooks with old master works, laced with a healthy sense of humor, be sure to visit her website. You can also find her on Instagram @m.louisestanley.

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.

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.