Category Archives: Exhibitions

Gone to the Dogs

Usually, an idea for each upcoming blog post surfaces well before I begin writing. But this week I’ve been at a loss. After a number of false starts, I was sitting here at my computer wondering what in the world to write when I started to tune into the soft and steady breathing from under my desk.

Under the Desk

And simple as that, this post was born. Quinn’s gentle snoring nudged me into remembering a recent article about a new exhibition that has just opened at the Wallace Collection in London, “Portraits of Dogs: From Gainsborough to Hockney” .

Amos, 1976 by Andy Warhol ©Andy Warhol

My chances of getting to see the show in person are slim. So in lieu of heading to the UK, I pulled out a couple of books that center on dogs in art and had a bit of an at-home exhibition of my own.

The Book of Dog, by Angus Hyland & Kendra Wilson

The first, The Book of Dog, is a compendium of varied works spanning centuries, curated with a contemporary eye. The other, We Think the World of You is a series of sensitive pencil drawings enhanced with minimal washes of color by David Remfry. Although quite spare, his pieces convey the depth of the unique bond between individual dogs and owners.

All Curled Up ©2023 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and graphite on paper, 5.5″H x 5″W I couldn’t resist painting my own trusty studio assistant, with a heathy dose of gratitude to her for helping me figure out what to write this week. For more examples of her tolerant modeling, check out the Ruby, Lola & Quinn section of my website.

In snooping around a bit more online to see what else I could learn about the Wallace Collection show, I came across this searing review. Honestly, it is so outspokenly negative it made me chuckle. As they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

This photo is from an invitation to an exhibition at the Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen in Rottredam, 1995.

A dog portrait may not be to everyone’s taste, but for those who are of like mind, here’s to our beloved canine pals – in art and in general. And an added three cheers for the sweet sense of connection that comes in knowing that such greats as Leonardo da Vinci, Andy Warhol and David Hockney also found inspiration in portraying their pets. In Hockney’s case, the portraits of his dachshunds even offered an avenue toward moving through grief after the death of a close friend.
From a more workaday perspective though, I’ll bet each famous master (pun intended) welcomed the break that painting a pooch provided from the demands of finicky human patrons.

Museum Hopping

I haven’t visited enough exhibitions since the first of the year, but last weekend was a start to getting back on the right track. If you are looking to stir the creative juices, here are two suggestions — one online and one local.

First, the Shelburne Museum doesn’t open again until May 13th, but don’t let that deter you. They have an impressive and diverse line-up of online exhibitions to bridge the gap until then. Each intriguing in its own right, I’m slowly making my way through them all. But Action Figures: Objects in Motion is the one that first caught my eye…such a treat!

Shepard Hardware Company Jonah and the Whale Shelburne Art Museum

Shepard Hardware Company (Buffalo, New York, ca. 1882–92), Jonah and the Whale Mechanical Bank, ca. 1890 Painted metal, Collection of Shelburne Museum

Secondly, an in-person trip to the Vermont Ski & Snowboard Museum in Stowe may not be the first place that comes to mind when looking to get an art fix, but go and be surprised. Scott Lenhardt’s art for Burton snowboards is fantastic! What I loved most was being able to see more than just the finished product. The compilation of sketches, saved margin notes on designs in process, and overviews of the overall progression from rough idea to finished painting is catnip for anyone interested in behind-the-scenes particulars. Lenhardt’s work is full of wonderful details and raw imagination, and the sheer volume of his output is, well, awe-inspiring. To round out the exhibition, don’t miss Pamela Polston’s article about Lenhardt in Seven Days.

Sketch for ’04 Powers ©2003 Scott Lenhardt, Ink on paper I took very few photos at the Lenhardt show because I got so caught up in the work. But this ink drawing is a good example of what I’m referring to when I say his art is full of wonderful details and raw imagination.

Meanwhile, there’s a lot going on behind the scenes here in the studio. I held a flash sale for my collectors on Valentine’s Day that went well enough that it’s likely I’ll repeat it next year. Maybe by then you’ll be on that e-mail list too! Anyway, with that goal under my belt I’m now juggling between pieces in progress, the nuts and bolts of getting finished work ready to exhibit, and preparing for a couple of upcoming studio visits.

This shows the early stages of a new piece. It’s destined for paint soon, but there’s something about the white-on-stitching that makes me want to explore it further as an end unto itself. This is not a new line of thinking for me, as you can read here and here. There are always more rabbit holes to follow.

Part of my to-do list this week has included framing “Eroded Boundaries” and “Caged Again” for the upcoming show Beacon of Light, which is due to open on March 15th at Studio Place Arts. More about that as we get closer to the show’s opening.
In the meantime, I’m tickled that “House on Fire” was selected for the exhibition SHE, at the online art gallery Art Fluent. You can view that show in its entirety here.

That’s all for now; back to work.

Art As Alchemy

It might be said that January represents change more than any other month.
For many, each new year opens the door to a fresh start – whether through newly forged resolutions or the hope of leaving the old year’s troubles behind. Either way, what better metaphor for the idea of transformation than the amaryllis?*

Signs of January’s hope & renewal: a new flower bud and baby bulbs growing from the sides of the mother plant.

I have accumulated more than a dozen of these plants and they remind me of the power of change every January. After a full year of watering and feeding, transporting them outside for the summer and then back inside to a cool, dark basement pantry for a 10-week autumn rest, my amaryllises have returned to our living room window sills.

The transformations that take place as a piece develops is like magic; it becomes addicting as one pushes forward. I try to take photos at various stages of each piece to track my progress. As you can see, not always in the best light at the end of a day.

With additional layers, the image begins to materialize.

Assisted by the lowered arc of December’s sun and our cozy evening fires, they’ve re-acclimated and are a glorious foil to January’s short, dark days, adding light and color where there might otherwise be gloom.

This piece began with the thought of incorporating a house shape (see previous pic) But as things moved along, I realized I had already gone too far for what I had in mind for this particular work, so the idea was nixed.

The outside garden may be snoozing soundly under a blanket of snow, but the transformation of these bulbs from papery and leafless lumps to vibrantly green and blooming is something of a winter miracle. Even though their flowers are short-lived, they are certainly worth all the tending and waiting.

Considering this painting’s overall tones are relatively muted, the accompanying stitch colors needed to be hushed as well. Pulling out hues from the portrait subtlety marries it with the background without overpowering either the image or the textural quality of the stitching.

With that thought in mind, I invite you to also think about the alchemy that is produced within an artist’s studio. By this, I’m not only referring to how raw materials are transformed into something new, but also, perhaps more importantly, to how those creations can fundamentally alter a viewer’s perceptions and foster communication. Yvahn Martin’s brief article “The Transformative Power of Art” discusses art’s communicative potential to enable and generate change in various positive ways – politically, socially and personally.

Still Waters ©2023 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor, graphite and stitching on paper, 11 x 8.5 inches I am settling into these portraits of older women with acknowledgment of and reverence for the paths they have laid out before us. This piece, in its relative subtlety, is a reminder that we all have stories that we may choose not to share. But those deep-seated histories still lie beneath the surface.

This week marks the opening of Transformation: Material, Environment, Us, a selection of artwork by the Vermont Members of the Surface Design Association, currently on view at Studio Place Arts in Barre, from January 25 – March 4, 2023. The exhibit meditates on the fundamental idea of change. I hope you’ll find time to visit and to consider not just how change is represented by each artist, but how their works may affect change in you.

Blooming

If you go, it’s a ‘three-fer’: 3 exhibits on 3 levels. See the info below for details.

*By typing “amaryllis” in the search bar to your right, you’ll see how these beautiful plants have made their way into my sketchbooks and this blog, year after year.

That Time Again

A sneak peak at what I’m currently working on…

If you’ve followed this blog for any length of time, you know that sooner or later a book post is bound to roll around again. I love reading (obviously) or just living for a while in the world of pictures. But I also get a charge out of discussing books, listening to podcasts about them, learning more about the author’s backstory, what s/he had in mind when writing, and ultimately sharing the titles of those I just can’t keep to myself.

So for this first post of 2023, here are three books I received this Christmas that I hope might brighten your new year as much as they are brightening mine.

David Hockney A Yorkshire Sketchbook

No words, only pictures. A sweet little book of the English countryside through the eyes of one of my favorite artists. It touches on a few of the art-y things that get my pulse revved up: loose watercolor work, organic pattern, and the geometry of divided space.

Inhabiting the Negative Space, Jenny Odell

What a fabulous jumping-off point this book is for approaching the new year! Very short and to the point, it was Odell’s 2020 virtual commencement address to the Harvard Graduate School of Design. Within its pages she pushes back against our current tendency toward incessant productivity, looking instead to periods of inactivity as vitally important for generating ideas. Frankly, I needed a reminder that time spent in reflection and contemplation is valuable, and that mind-space is a necessary ingredient for sowing the seeds of insight and is crucial to creative work.

Drawing for Illustration, Martin Salisbury

Suggested by illustrator Lucia Leyfield (another book recommender!) in her newsletter, this reference book is wise, informative, and discusses aspects of drawing that I find so enjoyable. Very inspirational.

And, because I can’t resist: my latest happy discovery is artist Sandi Hester. Her irrepressibly joyful personality spills into her informative Youtube art videos and her work. The world is so darn serious these days — she just makes me smile for so many reasons.
Below is a video where she talks about her favorite art books. We share some overlaps, but I also learned about a handful of new-to-me artists. Maybe you will too.

✷

Finally, for those of you near enough to make the trek, I’ll be part of the upcoming exhibition “Transformations: Material Environment, Us”, which opens at Studio Place Arts Third Floor Gallery on January 25th.

Join us for the Artist Social on Saturday January 28 from 3:30-5pm. Please also note that on Friday, February 3rd at noon there will be a panel discussion moderated by Leslie Roth with 3 of the participating artists: Jane Quimby, Heather Ritchie and Dianne Shullenberger.
Hope to see you at either or both events!

The work isn’t over once the brush and needle are set down. Framing is just another step in the process and I think this floating approach is a good way to go with these stitched paintings. This piece, “House on Fire”, will be part of the upcoming “Transformations” exhibit.

Step-By-Step

The snow is back!! — meaning both productive studio time and the bonus of excellent natural light.
As far as my latest post-Roe piece goes, all experiments have been set aside and I’m jumping in with both feet. Here’s a step-by-step guide to the process so far. There are still some ideas to pull together.

First, the figures and letters are laid out.

Next, a layer of masking fluid was added to protect some of the lettering from paint, while other letters are partially stitched.

Everyone is always curious about the back side. This shows areas that have been completed, along with pre-poked holes that are ready for stitches.

With the first layer of stitching complete, the individual portraits begin. The cotton thread that I’m using absorbs the paint but, as the brush flows over them, the raised stitches also tend to repel paint on the paper next to them. This adds an unexpected but welcome visual element to the textural effect.

With the 2nd portrait finished, things are beginning to materialize.

As I work on these I’ve begun to notice an interesting pattern. About halfway through each face, I reach a point where it seems as though the image is failing miserably. But I’m learning that it’s a lack of definition rather than a series of missteps. Not being shy about adding details and forceful darks gets things back on track.

I expect to finish the paintings in the next day or two, and then will tackle the 2nd layer of stitching. Stay tuned for my next post, or keep an eye on my Instagram account, to see how things pan out.

✷

It’s that time of year.
Studio Place Arts in Barre has just opened its holiday show “Celebrate!” (follow this link for a sneak peek) exhibiting the work of more than 70 member artists. I encourage you to come take a look and to get a leap on your artful holiday shopping. It’s a great way to support both local artists and a vibrant community art center.
I am exhibiting 3 wall pieces and 3 of my Sheltering-in-Place house sculptures.

Exhibit dates are November 9 – December 28, 2022
Maybe I’ll see you at the Art Social this weekend: Saturday, November 19 from 4:30 – 6pm! Many other artists will be there too, as well as a cello performance by Michael Close.
Masks are required.

The Third Leg

One of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned from faithfully maintaining this blog over the past 8 years is how key writing has become to my practice. I often think of it, along with drawing and stitching, as the third leg of my artistic stool.

Layers of color, and the happy accidents that occur as those colors mix, contribute to what I find most intriguing about watercolor. Stitching over those passages is a big risk.

I’ve learned that writing opens the door to unconscious ideas, ushering them to the surface. It’s something of a secret weapon which quite often not only directs my next steps, but also helps to crystallize a better understanding and articulation of whatever I am working on in the studio at the time.

But if done carefully and consciously, stitching adds a dimensional component that enhances the paint.

This phenomenon proved true once again while working on my quarterly newsletter late last month (have you subscribed yet?). In writing a description of my gravitation toward painting images of elder women, something came to mind.

The point of adding stitches is texture – both visual and physical. Stitching also provides another means for creating definition within the image, such as the left side of the house shape, as seen below.

I had already incorporated the suggestion of a house form surrounding the head of the subject in the early stages of outlining the composition of this piece, but as I wrote, the idea of protecting one’s personal boundaries (home) came to mind — specifically in relation to the fight of older generations of women for equal rights and for control of our own reproductive choices.

It wasn’t too big a stretch to draw a line between that feminist history and the idea that the overturn of Roe v Wade this past June is akin to burning down someone else’s house.
The result is “House on Fire”.

✷

Among many other wonderful things, September/October means the return of Art at the Kent, the annual exhibition at the Kent Museum in Calais. Always fabulous, endlessly inspirational and a testament to the wealth of brilliant artists that call the Green Mountain State home, it’s a must-see event in a setting that is uniquely Vermont.
I’ve written about it’s magic before.

The Wayward Bench © George Sawyer paired with Mud Season 9 Patch #11 © Rosalind Daniels Just one stunning example of the eclectic pairings on view in “Interplay” at the Kent Museum

This year Art at the Kent presents “Interplay” from September 9 – October 9. Don’t miss it!

Inspiration Time

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

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

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

Langlais Sculpture Preserve & Art Trail

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

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

See more of his work in the Collection of Colby College

©Bernard Langlais

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

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

An example of a Langlais painting

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

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

Center for Maine Contemporary Art

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dowling Walsh Gallery

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

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

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

Farnsworth Art Museum

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✷

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

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

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

Diving In

One of the things I’d like to work on this summer is getting to a point where I feel like I have at least some facility with landscape sketching. It’s kind of a logical thing to do in the warmer months when the temps are more amenable to being outside, but the truth is it’s a discipline I really struggle with and would like to improve.

In general, I’m not that inspired to make landscapes in the traditional sense. I am much more drawn to work with an element of abstraction that flattens space, integrates geometric forms, and allows materials to take center stage.

Winslow Homer, Sleigh Ride c. 1890-95, oil on canvas, The Clark Institute This painting is a wonderful example of the attributes I’d like to emulate.

I want to be able to capture the sense of a location by translating a moment through the various color combinations and shapes that grabbed my attention in the first place. It’s the quick marking of a specific time and place I’m after, not a formal finished artwork.
Plus, I can’t help but think of the possibilities of incorporating stitch…

We recently visited our daughter in Chicago; her condo looks out to Lake Michigan. Having grown up on the coast of Maine, I’m very familiar with the fact that bodies of water change by the minute / hour, so it was a fun exercise to practice capturing a similar view at different times of day.

At the moment my results are hit or miss, but I trust the key for unlocking the code lies in practice. Time to take the plunge.

✷

“Tucked In: Resilience in Small Moments” made a bit of a splash itself this weekend.

Our artists’ reception was well-attended and it was lovely to be able to share and talk about the work in person. Thank you to Dianne Shullenberger, Leslie Roth and to everyone who came to see our work. And if you haven’t been yet, the show will be up through June 19th at the Emile A. Gruppe Gallery, Jericho, VT. Gallery hours are 10-3 Thursday – Sunday, or call for an appointment: 802.499.3211

✷

And one final suggestion within this week’s watery theme:

If you’re anywhere near Montpelier before May 29th, make sure to stop in at the Front Gallery to see Hasso Ewing’s exhibit, “inside&out”. Her swimmer figures “explore concepts of inner and outer worlds and the relationship between self and other…”. The show is thoughtful, humorous, and extremely uplifting.

For some context, Hasso was the creator/curator of “the Sheltering-in-Place project” at the Highland Center for the Arts in the summer of 2020. That exhibit was the impetus behind my very first Covid house, “Relative Distance”, and for the 17 houses that then followed as I continued making them to “personify” my observations and emotions during lockdown.

Hasso proved then, as in this current exhibit at the Front, that she is a master at producing immersive, magical environments. In a section toward the back of the gallery, she invites us to enter “a watery inner world that brings the viewer inside to find peace and to escape from that which lies just above the surface”. It’s truly a balm in the midst of our chaotic, overly politicized world. Don’t miss it!

✷

Last note: If you’re a fan of Wordle — check out Artle!

Finding Resilience Through Art

“The studio is a laboratory, not a factory. An exhibition is the result of your experiments, but the process is never-ending. So an exhibition is not a conclusion.” ~ Chris Ofili

Last week, on my way to deliver my pieces to the Gruppe Gallery for our show “Tucked In”, it felt a bit like moving day. The back of my car was filled to the brim with work made in 2020/21 to mark many sides of Covid as I had experienced them: ten dyed and embroidered houses supported by foraged branches and a dozen framed portraits of friends who’d graciously shared selfies of themselves at a time when getting together socially, let alone for in-person drawing sessions, wasn’t possible.

One view of the exhibit, with Leslie Roth’s “Tick Eater” in the foreground on the left.

More than 15 months ago, Dianne Shullenberger, Leslie Roth and I began to scheme about putting together this exhibit of the work we’d been making since lock-down began. In the face of so much despair dominating the past couple of years, we wanted to offer some good news.

This selection represents half of the portraits I have on view.

A frequent topic of discussion between us had been how grateful we all felt that we’d had our art practices to help us get through this crazy time. It seemed important to share with others that hopeful perspective and the sense of resilience we gleaned from our work. The end product of those discussions is Tucked In: Resilience in Small Moments.

Another view that includes my houses, a couple of portraits, and one grouping of Dianne Shullenberger’s watercolors on the right. These photos don’t get close enough to show the finer details of all the work in the exhibit. I hope you will come to the gallery to take in those nuances in person.

It wasn’t just the fact that going to the studio offered regularity and purpose – although it did and that was huge – but our work also became an outlet providing solace and even something of a protective shield of normalcy against the chaos brewing outside our studios where everything seemed so topsy-turvy and out of control. This show is a feel-good manifestation of how we each, in our own way, found and tapped into pockets of positivity in the face of a global pandemic — through our homes, our gardens, our friends and our wildlife neighbors. The common denominator being our art practices.

And while what you will see at the Gruppe Gallery through June 19th is a culmination of the work of a specific time, it is also an example of how (certainly in my case, by branching out into 3-D work) those months were, as Chris Ofili’s quote references, a time of experimentation. His words remind me that every exhibit is just another mile marker along a path, not the end of a journey.

Please join us for the reception on Sunday, May 15 from 1-3pm if you can.

❖

I don’t consider myself a birder, but I am definitely a color-lover.
I have been reading The Feather Thief by Kirk Wallace Johnson. It’s part natural history lesson, part true-crime, nestled under the umbrella of the world and art of fishing flies. I keep running to Google to check out alls sorts of unfamiliar birds mentioned in the book.
These spectacular photos, and this link, will give you an idea – as they did me – of what the fuss is all about.

Banded Cotinga

Lovely Cotinga

Spangled Cotinga

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

✷

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

✷

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.

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

✷

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.