Category Archives: Exhibitions

Face Value

Not to be too overly dramatic, but I long ago reached the point during this pandemic where any in-person human interaction has become the highlight of my week. Over these past couple of years I’ve come to appreciate my trips to the post office, the library and the grocery store in ways I never would have thought possible.

Dignity ©2022 Elizabeth Fram, Ink on paper, 11 x 8.5 inches My hardcover Daler-Rowney Classic sketchbook takes ink and pencil equally well. The 8.5 x 11 size is big enough to stretch out upon without feeling unwieldy. It’s a trusty workhorse.

So I’m not exaggerating when I say it was absolutely wonderful this past Saturday to attend the Artist Social at Studio Place Arts for the Face It exhibition. Plenty of (masked) people turned out and it was so fun, not only to chat with folks I haven’t seen other than on Zoom since last summer, but to even meet a few people for the first time as well. The lift I got from it has lasted all week.
On top of that, the previous Monday I attended my first life drawing session since March of 2020. Things are definitely looking up!

In chatting with the executive director of SPA when I dropped off my work for the show, she mentioned how she felt the time had definitely come for an exhibit of portraits. She went on to say that she’d chosen the subject selfishly because she knew that working in the midst of them would be both comforting and normalizing.

It was a brilliant idea and, frankly, her reasoning is largely why I continue to draw, paint and stitch faces. Even though I often don’t know my subject, I still get a sense of human connection from studying and trying to execute something as personal and unique as facial features. Taking the time to really see someone else is something we’ve all missed, and I hope we won’t take the ability to do so for granted once the masks finally come off.

Face It closes on March 5th. Check out the Seven Days review to whet your appetite for a visit before the show ends.

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Speaking of connection – are you familiar with the word “pareidolia”?
It’s the formal term for the tendency to perceive shapes or an image out of randomness, such as seeing something in a cloud formation.

Lisette ©2022 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and graphite on paper, 12 x 9 inches I started experimenting with Strathmore Toned Mixed Media paper last year. It’s been a whole different learning curve to begin with a background that is medium-toned, rather than stark white. It comes in 3 colors – this is the tan. With a vellum surface that is akin to hot-press, it allows for erasures without damage. It is heavy enough that it doesn’t need to be stretched and doesn’t buckle from layers of washes – at least with the amount of water I use. It’s acid free and 30% post-consumer fiber; again, a good workhorse and convenient for traveling out of the studio. It’s what I brought with me to life drawing last week.

This brief article refers to it specifically as seeing faces in everyday objects, tagging the occurrence as an instinctual evolutionary hold-over geared toward protecting us from danger. I don’t know about that; I’ve always thought the images I tend to notice had more to do with my imagination compensating for boring moments.

But lately I seem to conjure more faces (as opposed to other images), which I attribute to all the portrait work I’ve been doing, figuring that I’ve become more finely attuned to the physical characteristics of the human face. Evolutionary phenomenon or not, it makes life a bit more interesting, don’t you think?

Work in Progress ©2022 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk Slowly but surely this piece is coming along. This week has been all about working with the hair. It needs more color, so I still have a way to go – plus, I haven’t even started with her shoulders. I’m having a bit of a love-hate affair with the background pattern & color. In the long run I think it will elevate the piece, but it has surely made the process more challenging.

White-on-White

It felt great this past week to get back to my embroidery frame and to begin a new stitched portrait. I had been casting around in the studio wondering who or what would be my next subject when, as so often happens, the answer appeared out of nowhere.

I start each piece by drawing the image directly on the silk. For those of you who are interested in such things, this is by far the best water soluble pen I have ever used. Other brands tend to dry out very quickly, but this one is going strong after almost a year. Part of this may be because the top snaps on quite tightly.

In an email from one of the many art organizations that regularly add to my inbox, I stumbled upon one artist’s brilliant observation in response to a general request for favorite art business lessons from 2021: what you create is “just the beginning”. On the surface that sounds so basic it’s almost silly, but when you stop to think about it, it’s pure gold.

This past week I have been making my way through the initial stage of the process: stitching the image with white silk thread on un-dyed raw silk. I tend to keep adding guidelines with the erasable pen as I go along. They act as a directional guide for the stitches, helping me to better describe the form I’m trying to represent.

She went on to clarify what a game-changer it was to realize that each piece she makes isn’t necessarily a one-off, merely to be archived, but rather just the first step in a continuum that builds upon itself.

In other words, pretty much everything we make creates a foothold for something else that will come later. In this instance, it was like a lightening bolt to realize that my quest for a subject was right here in my studio. I have a stack of pre-covid life drawings to pull from for this and maybe other portraits.

A variation in stitches distinguishes the hair from the facial features.

Whether sourcing drawings in my sketchbook, a particular stitch or dyeing technique used in the past, or some novel approach to layering various media together, every piece I make contributes something to my “toolbox” that I can reference in the future.

With the blue ink removed, the piece becomes a study in textures. The sheen of the silk thread is an important element that allows those textures to stand out. The next step will be to overlap the image with a dyed pattern. Come back in 2 weeks to see the progression.

The bottom line is none of the work we make exists in isolation, in fact, we just keep adding to our limitless creative bank accounts. And the beauty of that fact is they are always available to draw from when needed.

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Opening this week at Studio Place Arts: A world of portraits by 30 different artists, including yours truly.

Face It
January 26 – March 5, 2022
Studio Place Arts
201 N. Main Street
Barre, VT 05641

Gallery Hours: Wed – Fri: 11:30am – 5pm, Sat:11:30am – 4pm
Art Social: Saturday, February 19, 3:30 – 5pm (masks required) …..Hope to see you there!

Small Plates

To me, the half the fun of tapas – or a pre-Covid cocktail party with lots of different appetizers – is the variety of small plates one can sample. Most weeks, my time in the studio mirrors that approach – a little bit of this and a little bit of that filling up the hours. In that spirit, here are a few so-called “tastes” of what’s been swimming in my head these past couple of weeks.

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First, my big news is that the Fall Issue of the Surface Design Journal is now out. Every autumn SDA publishes an International Exhibition in Print. This year’s show, “From Confrontation to Catharsis,” feels both relatable and personal. The diverse scope of work exhibited addresses many of the overwhelming challenges of 2020. As I read each artist’s statement, the word that often comes to mind is “fragile”. So much of the work is a commentary on fragility: of our systems, our planet, our connections, our history, and even our human-ness.

SDA Journal Page

However, in viewing the show, one can’t help but also be reminded that there is empowerment and strength in expression, and as such there is an underlying sense of hope that resides with these works.
I am gratified and honored that “Until the Bitterness Passes”, one of my shibori houses from last year, was selected to be included.

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It’s Inktober!
While I haven’t followed every prompt set out this year, I have enjoyed interpreting of a handful of them. Here are just a few.

Another perk of the project is it’s great for filling up those last few straggling pages in one’s sketchbooks.

I have 4 different colors of ink on hand and Inktober has been an opportunity to experiment with them — supplementing with a tiny bit of watercolor when a different color is needed.

It also gave me an excuse to go ahead and purchase my new favorite under-$10 art supply (does one really need an excuse to buy art supplies?): a porcelain petal palette. It’s a great tool for mixing numerous values of ink all at once.

Porcelain Petal Palette

Oh, and speaking of cheap supplies, check out my new water jug! It’s a creamer that I found and snapped up this summer for just this purpose – also less than $10. The spout is brilliant for wiping the extra water off one’s brush before dipping it back into the ink. Now I wish that I’d also gotten the creamer from the black set since I usually have two water containers going at once, one for dirty and one for (relatively) clean water.

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Meanwhile, I’ve been puzzling my way through the shibori/embroidered “letter from home” I showed you last time. Surprisingly, the mussel shell was a snap to realize, but figuring out what to do with the envelope has been an unexpected challenge (lots of stitches sewn and then picked out). Next post I’ll write more about my discoveries and process along the way, but in the meantime I have some experimenting to do in order to figure out how to approach the dyed pattern in relation to the central shape – as well as what overall finished size/shape to use.

©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk, approx. 12 x 16 inches I think I’m going frame this one like this. Allowing the area without pattern to show provides a much needed sense of balance to the piece as a whole.

Framing will be part of that consideration. Unlike in this piece, which I dove into without finished dimensions in mind, I need to plan ahead so I don’t back myself into a corner.

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I get a lot out of James Cleary’s 3-2-1 Newsletter; it’s a short and sweet shot in the arm each Thursday. The list below was particularly resonate. Maybe for you too?

How to Build a Career in 7 Steps:
1. Do great work
2. Share it publicly
3. Cold email people 2 steps ahead of you
4. Talk about your work and trade ideas
5. Host events and meet in-person
6. Become friends
7. Rise together

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I get just as much of a lift from the beauty of my garden in fall as I do in spring and summer. While the colors are a bit more nuanced, they’re just as striking. Did you happen to read the NYTimes article “Take a Walk in the Garden Before It’s Too Late“?

With that in mind, my Instagram recommendation this time is @pottersarms, whose images of flowers, often in various states of decay, are quite lovely and somehow momentous.

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And finally, to bring you full circle, the next time you’re in Asheville, NC consider a meal at Cúrate – a tapas bar that will satisfy any yen for delicious variety.

Letters From Home

©Thomas Dambo at the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

Among the many highlights of our trip to Maine last month was a visit to the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens in Boothbay. It’s a wonderful place, whether you’re a plant enthusiast or not.

©Thomas Dambo at the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

Thomas Dambo’s larger-than-life trolls, dubbed The Guardians of the Seeds, pushed this year’s visit into the realm of the magical. If you’re headed in that general direction, they are definitely worth a detour!

©Thomas Dambo at the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

Aside from enjoying the change of scene that comes with any vacation, I find being in a new environment has a tendency to shake fresh ideas loose, allowing them to rise to the surface. This trip was no exception. I had a bit of a forehead smacking moment when I realized that the iconic house shape I’ve been using over the past year is the same as an open envelope’s silhouette. Talk about a lightbulb moment! It looks like my work for the fall is now laid out for me.

House / Envelope

Many things represent my idea of where I grew up, and in combining some of them with the merged house/open envelope shape, I’m imagining the possibilities of a series of “Letters from Home”.

What better way to kick off the series than with a mussel shell, one of the more common sights on any rocky Maine beach? They served as foraged butter dishes for our lobster picnics, and I have collected more than my fair share of them over the years because of their purple-y color.

Working with those deep blues and purples has been pure pleasure this week; colors that vibrate against the red and orange of this shibori-dyed shape – originally intended as a house, now both house and envelope. What began as an experiment for carrying a symbol forward, now feels a bit like kismet, pushing the idea of home in a very personal way.

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Update:
I mentioned at the end of August that I’d let you know once the recording of the artists talk “Signify: A Conversation About Meaning and Technique” (a Zoom discussion I participated in surrounding this summer’s exhibition Hidden Messages: Old and New) was available for viewing. As promised, here is the link. I’ll warn you, it’s an hour long – so grab your beverage of choice. I think you’ll find the conversation interesting, down to earth, and in good humor.

Asking the Right Question

How often have you found that just the right question will snap an idea into perspective?

Last week, during our Zoom panel discussion “Signify: A Conversation about Meaning & Technique”*, which was based on the current exhibition Hidden Messages: Old and New, our moderator, Leslie Roth, posed a meaningful question (among many). She asked the 3 of us on the panel whether our perception of our work shifts as a result of seeing it in a new environment or context, or in the way it interacts with its surroundings and other nearby art.

A few images from within the show to give you an overview

More than any other exhibit, I’ve been hearing very positive feedback from the other artists in this show regarding the placement of their work. Overwhelmingly, these folks, including the other two panelists, have mentioned that they felt their art had been elevated in some way by the other nearby pieces, acknowledging the expertise that had gone into creating groups of art that work well together and, one might even say, in conversation with each other.

However, I have a bit of a contrarian view — not because I wasn’t happy with how my pieces, or the show as a whole, were hung — far from it! I think those responsible did a superb job. But because, at the core, I don’t tend to engage with my (or others’) work in relation to its surroundings when on display. When I look at art it’s a sink or swim game — the work either shines or it doesn’t. I am drawn directly into each individual piece, studying and appreciating it by and for itself, without consideration of its neighbors in that opinion.

Of course I wouldn’t be pleased if I felt my work had been placed so that it was somehow given short shrift, but aside from that, I can’t imagine or remember an instance where I thought my work might read differently, in either a positive or a negative light, in relation to its neighbors within a gallery or other setting. And I also can’t remember a time when my opinion of another artist’s work was affected by the art nearby.

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All that said, it’s crucial to acknowledge that Curation (with a capital “C”) is an art-form unto itself. Art doesn’t exist within a vacuum. As I see it, the important job of a curator is to create a sense of organization, context and logic around a grouping of seemingly disparate works within a single setting. Their expertise (and task) is to make it easier to navigate through all the work in such a way that each piece can be more fully appreciated and understood on its own merit. A curator’s skill is in making a show hold together as a unit, while providing room for each work to be seen in its own best light.
And the curators of Hidden Messages did that in spades.

For an interesting and at times humorous look at the idea of curation and how it is evolving, check this out.

There’s still time to go see Hidden Messages for yourself. The show runs until September 5th.
Chandler Center for the Arts
71 N Main St.
Randolph, VT
Hours: Tues – Fri 11am-4pm, Sat 12 -5pm
802-728-9878

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*The “Signify” discussion was recorded and a link will be posted on the SDA website in the next weeks. I’ll be sure to let you know once that happens.

Flying the Coop

It was beyond wonderful to spend the past week in Berkeley and Chicago, and most importantly, to finally be with our kids for the first time in 18 months. Knowing we would be in two very art-friendly cities with re-opened museums, you can be sure I did my research ahead of time to see what might be on exhibit. Whether by pure coincidence or cosmic reward (I’ll go with the latter) our trip overlapped with four shows that seemed tailor-made for this art-seeking traveler. Kay Sekimachi “Geometries” and Rosie Lee Tompkins “A Retrospective” were on view at the Berkeley Art Museum Pacific Film Archive (BAMPFA). And then at the Art Institute of Chicago, we saw the remarkable Obama Portraits, along with “Bisa Butler: Portraits”.

As you might well guess, this will be one of those posts that is mostly images…enjoy the ride.

Kay Sekimachi: “Geometries”

From the wall text of the exhibition:
“Kay Sekimachi’s work is an integral part of the story of art and fiber. Along with other mid-twentieth-century artists, she transformed fiber from a material confined to industry and craft to one capable of expanding the categories of modern and contemporary art. For several decades this Berkeley-based artist has made experimental works with linear pliable elements that unite art and craft, economy and intricacy, and Japanese and American artistic traditions.”

Takarabako VII ©1999, Kay Sekimachi, Linen, acrylic paint & boning After a winter of making box-like houses, Sekimachi’s work struck me more deeply than it might have otherwise. According to wordhippo.com, Takarabako means “treasure chest” or “strong box”.

First recognized in the 1960s for her woven monofilament sculptures, Sekimachi is also known for her intricate baskets and bowls.

This small piece (about 12 x 12 inches) was one of a series of works made in homage to Paul Klee and Agnes Martin using linen, dye and indelible ink. The subtle nuances of color are lovely.

This vessel is made of kiri wood paper, a one or two-sided paper-backed veneer that is manufactured from the paulownia tree, called kiri in Japan. It is a fast-growing hardwood with light, fine-grained wood typically used for chests and boxes.

Rosie Lee Tompkins: “A Retrospective”

Born in 1936 in a small Arkansas farming community, Rosie Lee Tompkins learned to make quilts from her mother when she was a young girl, but did not begin making them professionally until the 1970s. Her work floored me for its strong sense of color and design. The frequent use of velvet added richness and depth without detracting from the sheer joy many of these pieces projected. The expanse of the museum’s walls gave each piece the room it needed to fully come into itself, while also allowing for a celebration of each quilt’s delightfully irregular perimeter.

All works were “Untitled”

This was by far my favorite for its joyful elegance.

Orange

What drew me across the room to this pair was Tompkin’s striking use of denim to express value.

Multi colored Tompkins

Although there weren’t details about specific pieces, the wall text gave clues to Tompkins’ overall approach, noting her later wall hangings are meditations on self, family and spirituality. Several works contain “yo-yos”, the number of which often corresponded to a personally significant number, like an age or relative’s birth month. One couldn’t help but notice that this piece was entirely black, almost shroud-like in appearance, as compared to the riot of color in all the other works.

The Obama Portraits

On a five-stop tour to museums across the country, from their permanent home at the National Portrait Gallery, Kehinde Wiley’s and Amy Sherald’s portraits of Barack and Michelle Obama are spectacular. They will travel from Chicago to Brooklyn, Los Angeles, Atlanta and Houston – so make a note if you’ll be in or near any of those cities.

I was struck by the diversity of people viewing these portraits, many emotionally moved or just plain giddy to be in their presence. You can download the free Art Institute app for an introduction to The Obama Portraits with commentary from artists Kehinde Wiley and Amy Sherald and curator Jordan Carter.

In addition to the portraits, other artwork related to the Obamas was also on view. Two that caught my eye were Jordan Casteel’s painting Barack, painted to accompany a 2020 interview with the former president in The Atlantic, and Alma Thomas’s A Red Display of Fall Leaves. The Obamas were the first White House residents to collect the work of an African American woman artist – Thomas’s Resurrection hung prominently in the Old Family Dining Room, and two more of her works were installed in the family’s private living area.

A Red Display of Fall Leaves ©1972 Alma Thomas This piece was made when Thomas was 81 – the same year she became the first African American woman to receive a solo exhibition at the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York

Bisa Butler: Portraits

One of the biggest perks of the pandemic was being able to attend Zoom artist talks that I never would have had access to before everything went virtual. Last March I listened to Bisa Butler give the 2021 Ruth Ketterer Harris Lecture at The Center for Design and Material Culture, University of Wisconsin-Madison. You can listen to it too. What a gift that the talk introduced me to Butler’s work, planting the seed to see this exhibition.

Anaya with Oranges, detail This shot gives a better idea of the detail work. Loved that a single sheer fabric with flowers was used to depict her hair.

If you made it this far, thank you — I hope you enjoyed these works as much as I did. And please let me know what exhibits you’ve caught now that we can venture out once again.

“Cape Elizabeth Supper”

When I was growing up, my mother used to save leftovers, no matter how small, and freeze them for later. Eventually there would come a night when she would pull them all out, reheat and serve with a green salad. It was another way she avoided waste and, perhaps more importantly, got a night off from cooking. She jokingly called the culinary mélange “Cape Elizabeth Supper,” in honor of our public high school fundraising potlucks.
In that spirit, I’ve been saving up an assortment of links and announcements to share with you all at once. Think of it as a mid-summer break for both of us.

First the announcements:

A view of “Hidden Messages” Photo: Rosalind Daniels

Many ‘calls for entry’ rely on themes. I generally tend to skip over them since that’s not how I prefer to approach my work and meeting their parameters is often a stretch. However, the premise of Hidden Messages: Old and New at the Chandler Center for the Arts’ Gallery in Randolph, VT was a different story, offering a platform that resonates strongly with both the intention behind several of my pieces – the idea of something “hidden in plain sight” – and the process I used to create them.

Espresso & Peanut Butter ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk, 14 x 11 inches. This work is something of an ode to the hidden and often unsung beauty of the quotidian, a fact of life that I have come to more fully appreciate through my regular drawing practice. Photo: Paul Rogers

In coordination with the Surface Design Association, this exhibition features the work of 15 Vermont textile artists who break the boundaries of traditional fiber processes and techniques, infusing their work with underlying layers of meaning. You can view a sampling of the show online but I also hope you’ll consider going to see it in person. It’s a disappointment that I won’t be able to attend the opening reception due to an eagerly anticipated family commitment, but if you go, many of the artists will be there, keen to speak with you about their pieces and the ideas behind them.

The Secrets She Keeps ©2020 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk, 24 x 18 inches In this reimagined portrait of Barbara van Vlaederberch after a painting by Hans Memling, both the subject and the process used to create it address the idea of unrecognized identity. The sad fact of being visible, yet invisible is something that intrigues me. Unfortunately, it has been a reality for women throughout history. I could find very little information about van Vlaederberch, only that she was married to a prominent citizen of Bruges and had given birth to 18(!) children. You can’t convince me she didn’t have a story to tell. Photo: Paul Rogers

The three works I have on view allude to the idea of “hidden” in different ways conceptually, two of them emphasizing the theme through a multi-step process that involves “losing” a white-on-white stitched drawing within a field of stitched-resist dye and pattern, and then bringing the image back to the surface via a second layer of embroidery using threads in colors that contrast with the dyed background.

House Divided (Mitch and Nancy) ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk, 18 x 24 inches. This piece relies on visual metaphor to communicate my point, while navigating between the superficially obvious and hidden layers of meaning through imagery that is symbolic of a deeper idea. Photo: Paul Rogers

Here are the show details:
Hidden Messages: Old and New
July 10 – September 5, 2021
Chandler Gallery at the Chandler Center for the Arts
71 N Main St. Randolph, VT 05060
Opening reception: Saturday July 17th, from 4-7pm
Gallery Hours: Saturdays 12-5, Tues-Fri 11-4 when Chandler Offices are open (look for the Open flag or call 802.728.9878 and press 2), and during Chandler events.

And please note, as part of Hidden Messages, an exhibit of traditional and contemporary quilts are concurrently on display at the White River Craft Center, also in Randolph.

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I recently learned that my piece Until the Bitterness Passes was selected to appear in “From Confrontation to Catharsis”, the 2021 SDA International Exhibition in Print. The full exhibition will be featured in the Fall 2021 issue of the Surface Design Journal.

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Last week I finished my contribution for The Violet Protest, which you may remember was a call, created by Ann Morton, for 8″ square works of equal parts red and blue to encourage thought about bringing our differing political factions together rather than continuing to separate them more widely. My square will appear in stack G-3 in the ongoing exhibition at the Phoenix Art Museum through September 5. If you will be in Phoenix at some point this summer, I encourage you to go to the museum to view the project before the squares are sent to members of Congress at the end of the year. Or, if that’s not possible, you can get a feel for the scope of the undertaking at @thevioletprotest on Instagram. (My Instagram recommendation for the week).

And now for the promised links:

“The Woman Who Made van Gogh”, a NY Times story by Russell Shorto reveals how Vincent van Gogh’s sister-in-law is finally recognized as the force who opened the world’s eyes to his genius. If you prefer, you can listen to the full story on The Daily podcast.
Here’s a new take on eco-friendly art restoration. “Send in the Bugs. The Michelangelos Need Cleaning” by Jason Horowitz. Read how scientists and restorers completed a secret experiment by unleashing grime-eating bacteria on the master’s marble masterpieces to remove centuries of filth.
If, like me you are an Alice Neel fan, you will enjoy Erica Ackerberg’s article about the fascinating people who sat for her portraits.
And lastly, in the process of encouraging a friend to visit Benozzo Gozzoli’s fresco Procession of the Magi in the tiny but spectacular Medici Chapel within the Palazzo Medici Riccardi, I came across a wonderful podcast: Rebuilding the Renaissance by Dr. Rocky Ruggiero. In each episode he explores the development of art, architecture, culture and history in Italy. Have your device nearby while you listen so you can look at the works while he discusses them in detail. (In the mood for some armchair travel? Read more about this jewel box chapel and other visual delights in Florence in my 2018 post L’Arte di Firenze).

How December’s Patterns are Different, Yet The Same

Now that December has arrived, do you have an end-of-year strategy to close out 2020?
Mine tends to evolve each year, but the general pattern is to devote time over the next weeks to looking back in order to take stock of what worked, what didn’t, and to figure out a game plan for 2021.

I got a leg up on my December tasks due to some unexpected household maintenance last week that led to a deep clean and minor reorganization of my studio. While I do a decent job of keeping up with cleaning chores around our house, my studio is something of a different story. Ironically, it’s where I spend most of my waking hours, yet it’s the one area where I routinely ignore accumulating dust and clutter. However, I’m feeling pretty good about finally reaching the back corners with the vacuum this past weekend and clearing out a bunch of the unnecessary stuff that has been building up. For these few moments I can say: “clear space = clear mind”, but let’s be real — things will go back to normal in no time.

As I begin to revisit the past 11 months, 2020 has counterintuitively been a busy exhibition year in spite of COVID. Happily, that trend hasn’t let up; I will have work in two shows that will span the cusp of the old and new years. That means, in addition to my annual December close-out check list, I am attending to business as usual.

The first of these shows is an online exhibit entitled Wild Things; it can be viewed now on the website of the Cultural Center of Cape Cod (MA). Online exhibitions aren’t new for the CCCC. They proudly claim their international calls for submissions and juried exhibitions as an integral part of their mission to support artists — complementing and extending their physical galleries on the Cape. It is an honor that my octopus piece, “Caught Red-Handed”, was selected to share company with such truly amazing work. If you are an animal lover, you will find this show particularly engaging in its range of media and styles.

Closer to home, I couldn’t be happier that five of my “selfie project” pieces were invited to be included in Unmasked: Artful Responses to the Pandemic. It will be an in-person exhibition, open from January 16 – March 28, 2021 at the Southern Vermont Arts Center in Manchester, VT. It is very gratifying that these drawings are getting out into the wider world since they are such a strong marker of what this past year has been for me.

All of that said, none of this would be possible without the galleries and venues across the country that have forged ahead during this crazy year, finding creative ways to continue bringing art to the public while coping with COVID and its uncertainties. Their constancy stresses the point that things are different, yet the same. In expressing my gratitude on Instagram, I was quite touched by the Cultural Center of Cape Cod’s response: “Without artists we are merely walls”. Those sentiments drill home the truth that we are all in this together… and it surely feels good to be part of the team.

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And now for a special treat.
As a coda to this past summer’s Sheltering in Place project at the Highland Center for the Arts, exhibit curator/creator Hasso Ewing, her husband Bob Hannan, and son Seamus Hannan have created and produced a truly wonderful video which conveys the atmospheric magic the exhibit brought to viewers during an uncharted and anxious time. It is quite lovely and unique — please enjoy.

The Light And The Dark Of It

Before I begin, the Grange Hall Cultural Center is hosting an in-person exhibition called DWELL. Sixteen artists’ responses to living during a pandemic will be on view, including my piece “Cocooned #2”. Visit by appointment from September 24 – October 24 (see contact info below). COVID precautions will be in place (no more than 5 people in the gallery at any time). If you’re in the area, please plan to visit — and don’t forget your mask!

Dwell poster

Now, for the “light”…

On our recent stay-cation, we visited a spot that has been on my list for years but, for whatever reason, I hadn’t been to yet. As long as it isn’t pouring rain, just about any day – in any season – would be a great time to go check out this gem. The beautiful, sunny September morning of our visit was perfect.

Please go to the Bundy Modern’s website for lovely pictures of the gallery in all seasons

The Bundy Modern of Waitsfield, VT was built in 1962 in a lush natural setting with mountain views. The structure itself, designed by Harvard GSD architect Harlow Carpenter, is a wonderful example of the Bauhaus style and is an unusual treasure for central Vermont.

Zeus ©1966 Paul Aschenbach, Sorten Steel, 20 feet. The lighting of my photo was so bad that the best and only way to show this striking sculpture was to convert the photo to black and white. Even though it was unintentional, I think the contrast between the hard sculpture and the trees and sky in the background make for an interesting duality that wasn’t immediately apparent in the color version.

Conceived as an art and sculpture gallery, it presents a unique intersection between the modern and contemporary artwork that is displayed within the building and on the grounds, and what is “an unusually pure example of modern architecture”.* The natural surroundings play as strong a role as the art and the building that sit within them, making for a truly exceptional visual experience.

Triforms ©1965 Fred Pallini, Steel, 96 inches. What I loved most about this piece is that it seemed that it was made of textile rather than steel. There is a lightness (almost pillow-like) and a visual tactile quality to this sculpture that I find very appealing.

Current owners, Wendell and June Anderson, are doing a marvelous job as stewards of Carpenter’s vision while bringing exciting contemporary art to our area. Put a visit on your list, if you haven’t already.

And now for the “dark”…

To date, the COVID houses I’ve been making have skewed toward the optimistic in my search to find and express a sense of hope and positivity in the midst of this pandemic. But as the months have worn on, I haven’t been able to ignore the bleaker aspects of these times.

My latest two pieces lean toward this darker direction. I don’t consider myself a political artist, but there is catharsis in creating a fuller picture of what is happening now and in striving for empathy.

Swirl of Fire, alternate view

Perhaps a sense of fellowship / camaraderie / community is the best and most hopeful of what we have to offer each other. With that in mind, I came across two sources of interviews that have brought some light to my reading, and perhaps they will for you as well.

#artinthetimeofcovid – MetroFrame Blog Conversations with artists regarding how they are navigating their practices during COVID
Pat Lowry Collins’ Aging and the Creative Process (click the menu bar to access the interviews)

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And finally, a story:

I got to know Walter at the Vermont Studio Center a couple of years ago when our studios were across the hall from each other. He doesn’t live close, but close enough that we manage to get together from time to time. Obviously that stopped with the virus.

When I asked for a selfie for my project, Walter sent a couple. But this one, with his dog Pepper, whom he had lost unexpectedly this summer, captured an endearing moment that anyone who has a pooch in their life will recognize immediately.

*quoted from the Bundy Modern website

the Sheltering in Place project

It was a fun privilege earlier this week to help hang/place, amid a forest of willow branches, the little shelters that are the heart of the Sheltering in Place project now on view at The Highland Center for the Arts in Greensboro. Granted, when I left, the set-up wasn’t absolutely complete so I didn’t get to experience the full effect with special lighting and recorded haiku written specifically for the show. But I can confidently tell you that it is going to be a magical exhibition.

SiP Evite

The show will be open to the public by reservation only. Check the HCA website for information about their COVID-19 protocol for the building and the installation. Sadly, there will be no reception or artist talks due to obvious concern about large gatherings at this time. But truthfully, the work speaks for itself and perhaps savoring it in relation to your own sheltering experience will be the most meaningful way to enjoy it.

Relative Distance ©2020 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk, with foraged twigs, 9 x 6 x 6 inches. The above image is to jog your memory so you can keep your eyes peeled for my piece in the show. If ever there was a testament to professional photography, this is it. Thank you Paul Rogers Photography

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Meanwhile, I’ve enjoyed spending time drawing our friends and neighbors up the street. An added bonus is that they took these photos on May 11th, recording our late spring snowfall. Karen’s sense of humor about being long-overdue for a haircut added to the fun of trying to capture her.

For whatever reason, Alan’s image was harder to nail down (my fault, not his). It was a challenge to balance the shade and reflected light under the brim of his hat. However, pushing into mixed-media by adding watercolor and white ink eventually got me over the hurdle.

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One final note before wishing you a happy holiday weekend:
I tend to collect quotes gleaned from my reading, but since I don’t have any specific place to keep them, they are always a lovely surprise to come across again when I’m sifting my way through old daybooks or stacks of paper that build up on my desk. I thought I’d leave you with this one from David Hockney as an offering of hope in the midst of all our uncertainty. Keep it in mind if and when you go to see the Sheltering in Place project.

I have always believed that art should be a deep pleasure…there is always, everywhere, an enormous amount of suffering. But I believe my duty as an artist is to overcome and alleviate the sterility of despair…New ways of seeing mean new ways of feeling… I do believe that painting can change the world. ~David Hockney