Category Archives: Textiles and Drawings

Just Like Us

First, a huge thank you for the kind, supportive comments and emails so many of you sent after my last post. I am so very appreciative.

A tiny portion of Janet Van Fleet’s exhibition “DEI: All Kinds of People”, offset by glorious gladiolas from her garden

One thing I know to be true (or which is at least true for me): art is a through line. Like friends, it is a constant that is steadfastly supportive and often distracting at just the right moment. I have been reminded of this fact often over the past weeks and have been leaning on it accordingly.

Janet Van Fleet; DEI: All Kinds of People

© Janet Van Fleet Be sure to zoom in on all images in this post to see the full character of these wonderful figures

There hasn’t been time for me to make much of my own work lately, other than the brief sketch here and there. But I have made a point of grabbing what moments I can to view the work of others — in books, online and, most importantly, in person. And doing so has been tremendously restorative.

© Janet Van Fleet

Sunday, I visited Janet Van Fleet’s 2-day exhibit “DEI: All Kinds of People” at Towle Hill Studio in Corinth, VT. Especially at this point in time, it was both an important reminder and, beyond that, a reassurance of our collective connection regardless of our differences.

© Janet Van Fleet Never one to shy away from hard truths, Van Fleet addresses issues head-on

© Janet Van Fleet

I am a huge fan of Janet’s work, especially her ability to create a magically inventive world out of what, to the average eye, are throw-away odds and ends. She is a modern day alchemist who, through the mirror of her art, guides us to see the various layers of our humanity without taking ourselves too seriously.

©Janet Van Fleet

This latest assembly of quirky and fantastical figures spans a spectrum of poignancy, humor, endearment, relatability, enlightenment and depth; these works have a soul. In other words, she has created a gathering that is essentially just like all of us.

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Another fun distraction I recently discovered is The Art Detectives on Amazon Prime. You may be able to stream it, or alternate versions of it, on other platforms. It’s all sorts of nerdy, arty historical goodness. Enjoy!

Epiphany

My father passed away last week.
He was a Mainer through and through, a fact upon which most of his life hinged.

White Pines 1

Sitting by his bedside during his final week, I listened as he fondly reminisced about many things that were so “him”, including: his love of being on the water (he marked periods of his life by sailboats, much the way many of us recount the years by the succession of dogs who have graced our families), the pride he had in crafting the delicate curve of a particularly challenging set of table legs for one of his many fine furniture projects, and memories of the island people whose salt-of-the-earth integrity had greatly influenced his own approach to life throughout his 98 years.

Early in the morning, before going down to be with him, I would sit on his apartment porch and take a few moments to quietly paint the nearby pine trees — tall and stately Eastern White Pines, which coincidentally are Maine’s state tree.

White Pines 3

I realized as I worked to capture their distinctively irregular shapes that these sturdy conifers could be seen as an apt representation of the man who, along with our mother, had raised my brother and me: tall, upright, determined, resilient, unique, long-lived, and even, to make a terrible pun that he would have loved to hate, a bit sappy (classical music, especially Bach, could bring him to tears).

Much of making art is seeing the connections and metaphors that hover over our lives. Thanks to this unexpected sketching epiphany, I have a new way of seeing and remembering Dad — not only here in Vermont, but especially along his beloved coast of Maine.

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Rolodex of Inspiration

Walking to the compost the other morning, this sight caught my eye.

Hosta Leaf

I’m not sure what creature or disease found this one particular hosta leaf, ignoring all others on this and numerous other plants, but considering how much I’ve been immersed in knotless netting over the past several months, I was immediately smitten.

My camera roll is filled with such images — quick captures of all sorts of things that grab me in the moment and which would soon be forgotten if I didn’t take the shot. The results would mean absolutely nothing to anybody else, but to me they are a reminder that inspiration for my work is everywhere.

The color combination of magenta and burnt orange in humble drips from my chipotle and beet leftover lunch concoction, were recorded and became the root inspiration of a later work.

Similarly, for years I’ve kept a couple of cheap spiral sketchbooks that I continue to fill with images of all sorts. Gleaned from anywhere and everywhere, just looking through them gets my creative juices flowing.

My inspiration notebooks with assorted images waiting to be glued into them

For the most part these images (or parts of them) are merely jumping-off points. Various elements — be it a shape, a color combination, a texture, you name it — are ripe for contributing to the structural underpinnings of some future unknown piece, or for making my way past the inevitable stumbling blocks that crop up in the middle of works in progress.

Those drips on my lunch plate were the impetus behind this piece from 2011

Deceptively simple yet worth their weight in gold, these resources are my rolodex of inspiration. Often lying dormant for years, somewhere down the line one image will seed exactly the idea I need.

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Distraction of the week:

Take a swing through Susan Lichtman’s website – her paintings are a wonderful dance between representation and abstraction, with light carrying the rhythm.

Acknowledging What Was, Embracing What Is

My first 9-5 job was as a potter’s apprentice.
I went into it imagining my throwing skills would blossom, but in reality it was my biceps that grew, not my artistic chops. The potter who hired me, in addition to his pots, sold clay and glazes. So I spent the majority of my days that summer carrying 40-pound bags of clay to other potter’s cars and measuring chemicals for glaze mixtures.

Poof! went my romantic notions of spending my time at the wheel. I left that job mostly having learned that I was glad to be headed to college. And while I didn’t get very far in becoming a potter, I’ve never lost my attraction for things made of clay.

One of my favorite books from that era is M.C. Richards’ Centering. In it she relates the following parable which has stayed with me as a wonderful philosophical riddle:

There are many marvelous stories of potters in ancient China. In one of them a noble is riding through a town and he passes a potter at work. He admires the pots the man is making: their grace and a kind of rude strength in them. He dismounts from his horse and speaks with the potter. “How are you able to form these vessels so that they possess such convincing beauty?” “Oh,” answers the potter, ” you are looking at the mere outward shape. What I am forming lies within. I am interested only in what remains after the pot has been broken.”

I was recently reminded of this story when I dropped a beloved hand-painted clay vase that I picked up at a flea market years ago. What heartbreak! I couldn’t bring myself to toss it out so I ordered a kintsugi kit to put the pieces back together, hoping to give it a second life.

But in the meantime, I’ve been painting the vase’s shards with dramatic shadows, incorporating knotless netting to accentuate the resulting forms and to insert a suggestion of repair or mending. The outcome is that the memory of the original remains intact, acknowledging what was while simultaneously embracing what is.

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Speaking of memory…
I’m over the moon to share that these latest netted paintings will be among a varied selection of my work chosen to be part of Art at the Kent this fall in their group show that will investigate memory.

Holding Poster

Mark your calendar now to be sure to visit one of our state’s most beloved annual exhibitions, presented in a truly magical Vermont setting during one of the loveliest seasons of the year.

Nothing Lasts Forever

I received an email in May alerting me that Pocket, the free save-for-later app I’ve been using for years to store all sorts of reading content, is going away. This change is a bit like mandatory closet-cleaning, forcing me to make my way through the virtual piles I’ve amassed, deciding what to keep and what to toss before it all disappears into the ether.

It’s been a handy app to have but, if I’m honest, I’ve used it like a virtual attic, forgetting most of what I’ve stowed there once it was safely saved. Rediscovering what is still relevant and getting rid of the rest is long overdue.

Here are 5 links I’ve unearthed that are worth saving & sharing:

Jerry Saltz’s 33 Rules for Being an Artist
“Making Your Life as an Artist” by Andrew Simonet
“10 Creative Audiobooks to Artistically Inspire Your Mind Through Your Ears”, compiled by Sara Barnes
“Drawing is the Best Way to Learn, Even if You’re No Leonardo da Vinci”, by Anne Quito
Get lost amidst The Louvre’s collection, no matter where you are

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On the more creative side of things, you may remember that in March I began experimenting with knotless netting as another way to add textural interest to my paintings. Those explorations have continued behind the scenes while I’ve been pulling “Full Bloom” together and getting it launched.

Here are a handful of the pieces I’ve been working on. I’ll have more to show next time.

Great Blue © 2025 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor & knotless netting on paper, 6 x 8 inches. The heron silhouette was painted with gold pigment watercolor that I bought from Daniel Smith when we lived near Seattle, decades ago. It’s a powdered pigment that comes to life once you add water – and the fact that it remains dry until you choose to use it is probably why it has lasted so well across the years. It’s lovely on paper but hard to capture in a photo.

Fleeting Recollections ©2025 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor & knotless netting on paper, 6 x 8 inches What is it with the birds? I’m not absolutely sure, but “memory” has remained in the back of my mind as I’ve worked on these pieces. Somehow birds feel like a suitable metaphor for carrying that idea forward.

Memory Vessel ©2025 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor & knotless netting on paper, 6 x 8 inches Moving on to objects… This pitcher is an old family item that doesn’t belong to me and probably isn’t worth much monetarily. Still, it holds within it a sense of place, and that in itself is priceless.

Icing on the Cake

Let’s get philosophical for a moment.

The Satellite Gallery

If a tree falls in the forest and there is no one near to hear it, does it make a sound?
Or put another way, if the work of an artist never leaves the studio, is it still art?
I would say yes to both but, re: the art, nothing makes it feel more “real” than getting it out in public and, even better, celebrating it with an opening.

Full Bloom, Satellite Gallery

One works hard, mostly in solitude, doing the best one can to crystalize an idea by translating it visually. And while the whole thing may make perfect sense in the moment (and in your own head), it’s actually having the opportunity to see those ideas reflected back through the eyes of others that fully closes the circle.

Full Bloom, Satellite Gallery

The opening for Full Bloom at The Satellite Gallery was such a delight. Seeing the series I’ve been chipping away on for the past 2-1/2 years, framed and then considerately organized in context by a skillful curator, is icing on the cake to the joy of making the work in the first place. Add to that a lively and convivial gathering of thoughtfully engaged viewers and you have the proverbial cherry crowning it all.

Post Roe Suite Full Bloom Satellite Gallery

A huge thank you to the collector of this piece who generously loaned it to the show, allowing all my ladies to be together.

If you’re interested in my frame of reference and the evolution of this series, here are the remarks I gave during the event.

So gratifying to know that The Satellite Gallery is organizing community events around Full Bloom

Full Bloom will be on view through the 4th of July weekend.

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And finally, a few summer reading suggestions.
It’s been a happy coincidence that in the midst of pulling together the loose ends for Full Bloom this spring, several of the books I’ve read also center on strong, resilient women. The protagonists of Elizabeth Strout’s Oh William!, Elizabeth O’Connor’s Whale Fall and Sarah Winman’s Still Life, all immersed in navigating life, persist and, each in her own way, triumph.

Part 2: Tapestries, Portraits and Gardens – Oh My!

Welcome to Part 2 of my post about Scotland. If you missed Part 1, feel free to jump back to take a look. Today I’m moving on to gardens and other miscellaneous delights.

Strolling through a well-designed garden is, artistically speaking, every bit as rewarding as wandering the galleries of a museum. While inherently different, they are wonderfully similar. Visiting a museum is akin to stepping into a time capsule to witness freeze-frame moments caught in time. But while a garden within an historic setting may bring the past to mind, one is still always conscious that what surrounds us is never still; it is constantly growing and transforming.

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Nothing is more the child of art than a garden.” -Sir Walter Scott

Abbotsford, the home (“palace of imagination”) of novelist Sir Walter Scott, is situated on the River Tweed and looks like an illustration from a fairy tale.

Taking in this view, I couldn’t help but think of Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson’s poem The Land of Counterpane. which my mother read to me when I was very young and home sick.

Scott created three successive gardens.

My favorite was the walled kitchen garden which covers an acre and apparently looks much the same as it would have in Scott’s time. It is a mix of flowers and scented plants, herbs, fruits, vegetables.

Separate from the house gardens, there is also a mini-sculpture garden/woods walk on the property. With a name like “Witch Corner”, I couldn’t resist. The chainsaw sculptures are inspired by Scott’s writing.

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Dating back to 1372, Glamis Castle was the childhood home of Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother of Elizabeth II. Frankly, I was more interested in the fact that it is said to have been the inspiration for Shakespeare’s Macbeth.

The Italian Garden at Glamis Castle

The two house-shaped allées captured my heart immediately

Having never seen a Himalayan Blue Poppy before, our timing was perfect.

Turrets, blue poppies and a house-shaped allée – definitely not in Kansas (or Vermont) anymore

A garden can claim innumerable artists — botanical wizards who have contributed their personal brushstrokes across years and trends. Unlike Whistler’s Mother who will still be seated stoically in her black dress and lace cap next year and next century, the garden you wander through today will be different from that of yesterday, tomorrow, or any other day – ever.

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Branklyn Garden in Perthshire is a 2 acre hillside garden, created in 1922 using seeds collected by plant hunters. It is now overseen by the National Trust for Scotland.

I took lots of photos but this one, with that central red rib in the midst of all the different shades of green, is the one I find most inspiring.

Other than hoping to avoid crowds and midges, we had no particular goals or expectations of Scottish gardens in early May. But luck was with us. Those we visited were much farther along than anticipated, offering bursts of color for winter-weary eyes.

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Drummond Castle Garden is a horse of a completely different color.

The sculpted trees and variety of foliage are spectacular – even at this early point in the season.

The shapes and shadows made me feel as though I’d been dropped into Alice in Wonderland

The variety of foliage colors hold their own – no blooms necessary

The lean of some of the trees made them seem on the verge of coming to life in a Disney-esque sort of way. So while on the one hand this was a very serious garden, it also comes across with a lovely sense of humor.

This short video shows the grandeur far better than I can.

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Jupiter Artland is a sprawling sculpture garden that also includes a couple of indoor exhibition spaces. It is magnificent, with trails that wind through woods, across fields and by beautiful water features.

Stone Coppice, Andy Goldsworthy

Bonnington House (in the distance) is a private home situated in the center of Jupiter Artland. Such hedges!

Cells of Life, Charles Jenks. Magical terraced earthworks embedded with paths allowing one to climb to the top for an expansive view.

Weeping Girls, Laura Ford. Figures hand carved from waxes. Cast in found objects. Patinated and painted bronze. This was one figure among a series of girls, all of whom projected a mysterious and melancholic aura to the grove of trees where they were strategically placed. Don’t we all have days like this?

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And then a couple of miscellaneous gardens…

National Heather Collection at the Rodney Gardens Park in Perth

The King’s Knot at Stirling Castle was constructed for Charles I between 1627-9. It is covered in grass now, but it was originally designed as an ornamental garden.

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And finally, I leave you with the “Oh My!” These are a few of the things that don’t fit neatly into any category, but are pure visual enjoyment – seeds, even, for possible future work.

Before we left I had read about these two gravestones, unique in their elaborate depiction of Adam and Eve. It became something of a scavenger hunt to find them, but it was definitely worth the search.

Loved the sign, loved even more the colors of stone in this building near Edinburgh Castle

These textured house shapes surrounding a doorway in Edinburgh Castle caught my eye immediately.

The Kelpies, Designed by Andy Scott. These massive horse heads, built of steel, refer to the shape shifting water-horses of Scottish folklore.

Finally, I always research art supply stores before any trip. It’s hard to beat the charming exterior of this one, where I found some khadi paper that easily fit in my carry-on and is now waiting in the wings for future paint and stitch.

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Now, it’s back to Vermont.
I’m very much looking forward to the opening of Full Bloom on Saturday!
If you’re around, please join me at The Satellite Gallery, 71 Depot Street, Lyndonville, VT for the opening from 5-7pm. The show will be up thorough the 4th of July weekend.

The gallery director sent me this photo after she’d hung the show. I’m thrilled that she decided to include several of my “Sheltering in Place” houses as well.

Tapestries, Portraits and Gardens – Oh My! (Part 1)

I’m half joking, but Warning! This post is long. Even still, there is so much to cover that I’m going to split it in half and will be back with Part 2 next time. Meanwhile, I’ve tried my best stay heavy on images, light on words. I’ve sprinkled in lots of links so you can explore further.

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My head is spinning on the heels of our recent trip to Scotland – there was inspiration everywhere! So many of my favorite things: textiles, portraits, gardens and more! I always come home from being away feeling like my brain got a good airing out. The best souvenir is plenty of fresh things to think and read about, setting the stage for, if not a reset, at least additional perspectives to bring back to the studio.
Here we go…

Tapestries:
The Great Tapestry of Scotland
Dovecot Studios
The Hunt for the Unicorn at Stirling Castle

The Great Tapestry of Scotland is housed in its own museum, about an hour south of Edinburgh in the Scottish Borders textile town of Galashiels. Created by 1000 stitchers, it’s no exaggeration to say it is a 160-panel masterpiece that covers the broad scope of Scottish history, along with everyday stories of the Scottish people.

We went directly to Galashiels to see the Tapestry after our red-eye landed, albeit a bit bleary-eyed. However, no need for an energy boost once in the presence of all the amazing stitch-work. This is Panel #1.

First impressions: each panel is HUGE (about a meter square), most are brilliantly colorful and all are quite ingenious in their depiction of chosen subject. The panels were designed by Andrew Crummy, but the masterfully stitched intricacy, diversity and expertise are all a credit to the individual stitchers.

This detail of Panel 1 (seen in full above) is a mere taste of what is to follow.

Before we left Vermont, knowing how overwhelming it would be to try to take in such a massive display during one brief visit, I purchased Alistair Moffat’s The Great Tapestry of Scotland book which shows and describes each panel in detail. Pouring over and reading the particulars ahead of time gave me a chance to become better acquainted with the history and meaning behind the panels, including improvisations which were allowed stitchers in order to underline their personal connection with the event portrayed on the panel they stitched.

Panel 126 – “Fair Isle” As a knitter, I loved this panel. Fair Isle is known for a traditional style of knitting made popular when the Prince of Wales, later to reign briefly as Edward VIII, took to wearing Fair Isle knitted sleeveless jumpers to play golf in the early 1920s. Very colorful with finely worked horizontal geometric patterns, these designs were trending then, and still are.

Having a bit of a leg up allowed me to concentrate more fully on the stitchwork; the remarkable way in which various details were depicted was captivating.

Detail of Panel 64 – “The First School for Deaf and Dumb Children” Just look at the way the curls of this teacher’s wig, as well as his shirt sleeves and waistcoat, are realized!

Detail of Panel 74 – “James Hutton’s Theory of the Earth” That hair!

Detail of Panel 87 – “The Growth of Glasgow” So many details in this small section of panel. If you too are curious about the fish with the ring in its mouth, read on.

Beyond the artistry, the finished tapestry is a remarkable community accomplishment that includes the work of 1000 participants from the whole of Scotland. I could have written several posts on the Tapestry alone, but there’s more to see.

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Moving on…

Dovecot Studios in Edinburgh is a working tapestry studio and gallery. When I asked how their weavers were selected, I think the woman thought I was looking for a job. Ha! She told me that it had been 10 years since they last hired someone – only master weavers. The Studios support an apprenticeship program and I believe their weavers tend to come directly from that pool.

Looking down on a tapestry in progress from the viewing balcony, which also doubles as a gallery space. The monumental weavings on the far wall were created by Ptolemy Mann. The studio was silent, the weavers were in their own worlds, with headphones on.

As if seeing the working weavers wasn’t enough, we were also able to take in the current exhibition “The Scottish Colourists: Radical Perspectives” in the Dovecot Studios expansive lower gallery space. If you read Art & Object, perhaps you caught the accompanying review? My education never even touched upon Scottish art history, so this was a treat.

Jessica Dismorr, Landscape with Figures, 1911-12, Oil on Panel. So many wonderful works – this was the one I would have brought home, if allowed.

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The Hunt for the Unicorn is a set of 7 tapestries in the Queen’s Inner Hall of Stirling Castle. They are a recreation and reinterpretation of tapestries that appear in castle inventories from the 16th century. The recreation was a monumental 14-year endeavor which enlisted a team of 18 weavers from across the world.

This photo taken from the web shows the grandeur of the recreated tapestries. The colors and details are spectacular, giving one an idea of how awe-inspiring the originals would have been, especially to 16th century visitors. For more photos, follow this link.

Stirling Castle was the childhood home of Mary Queen of Scots and, with extensive research, the palace interiors have been recreated as they may have looked in the 1540s during the reign of Mary’s father, James V.

One can visit the on-site tapestry workshop where the modern version of The Hunt for the Unicorn was made. One can read extensive information there about the details of the tapestries’ creation, and see samples that were created in preparation. If you’re interested in going further into the weeds of this extensive project, read this.

And now…
Portraits:
The Scottish National Portrait Gallery
Stirling Heads at Stirling Castle

I am a huge fan of Sky Arts Portrait Artist of the Year, which can be streamed on Amazon. If you’ve watched it, then you will be aware that the grand prize is to paint a portrait of a figure of national importance for one of several UK Portrait Museums. After viewing it on the show, I was dying to see the Scottish National Portrait Gallery’s Great Hall. It is even more breath-taking in the flesh.

The Great Hall of the Scottish National Portrait Gallery in Edinburgh

Even the ceiling is magnificent!

Currently on view within the Gallery is “The Modern Portrait”. Considering the development of portraiture since the early 20th century, this exhibit shows evolving portraiture styles over the past 125 years. It was also a fascinating opportunity to learn about the paintings’ subjects – figures who have contributed significantly to Scottish life in numerous spheres.

The Unknown Man, detail, 2019, Ken Currie, 6.5’x9 feet, Oil on Canvas. This powerful and massive portrait (hence the detail) is of Dame Sue Black, forensic anthropologist.

Alexander Douglas-Home by Avigdor Arikha

Alexander Frederick Douglas-Home, 1988, Avigdor Arikha, Oil on canvas. What drew me to this one was the composition. As I’ve noted before, I am a fan images that hug the edge.

Tom Leonard, About 2004, Alex Main, Bronze I took this photo so I could paint it in my sketchbook later – I find the sense of form quite moving and a great opportunity for practice.

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The Stirling Heads, made of Polish oak, were a ceiling adornment in James V’s Inner Hall meant to display his status as monarch through reference to his royal bloodline, powerful connections and fashionable court. After having been dispersed in the late 18th century, some of the originals are reunited in a darkened gallery in the castle, while modern reproductions recreate their splendor, once again decorating the ceiling of the King’s Inner Hall.

The workmanship of the originals is spectacular.

Painted reproductions as they would have appeared originally are also a testament to the skills of modern artisans..

OK, time to stretch your legs – that is more than enough for now! Perhaps (I hope) you’ll have seen something that will send you down your own rabbit hole of discovery. I know there is a lot of reading I’m looking forward to.

Next time, Gardens and a touch of “oh my!” Till then.

The Other 50%

Some weeks I feel like a jack of all trades.
While painting, drawing & hand-stitching may be the face of what goes on here, plenty of other, behind-the-scenes activities are just as integral to keeping everything steaming along.

These past weeks I’ve been preparing for an upcoming solo show that will run throughout the month of June. My stitched paintings of elder women — 2-1/2 years of work — will be seen all together in one venue. I hope you’ll join me for the Opening Party on June 7th!

Framing

Meanwhile, lots of unsung chores surrounding the show are keeping me busy. I’ve been cutting mats & framing the remainder of the 19 pieces that will make up the exhibit while getting the associated paperwork and computer records in order. I’ve designed an announcement/invitation and have begun promotional outreach. Leading up to this point, I’ve spent hours writing artist statements, proposals, follow-ups and, as you may remember, assorted blog posts sharing the process of each piece over the past couple of years.

There is a general wisdom that artists only spend about 50% of their time actually making art; the rest is devoted to business, which is just as demanding. How very true.

With this in mind, please note that I am going to take a short break in early May. Look for my next post in 4 weeks, on May 22nd.

Invitation / Announcement

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If you’re looking for a diversion, Austin Kleon’s Substack post this week is filled with all sorts of art-y goodness. It’s been a treat to slowly chip away at his links during my breaks. Each is a source of inspiration in its own way, especially “Art Thief: Lessons from Wayne Thiebaud”. But if you only have time for one thing and are looking for a sense of connection across time, and/or a source of hope, remember gardens and read Kleon’s 2017 post “Planting Iris”.
Planting season has arrived, time to get to it!

The Name Game

An unsung step in the making of every work of art is the choosing of a title. I have a friend who often decides what she’ll call a piece long before the work is complete, but I believe she is the exception. For me — and I gather a lot of people — titling is a frustrating end-of-work challenge. I think a title ought to be more than a mere afterthought once a piece is finished. Beyond just a label, it can also be a bridge – another opportunity to connect with a viewer.

When I photograph works in an exhibit, I almost always follow each shot with a picture of its descriptive label. Aside from wanting to be reminded of the materials and techniques, I’m interested in what else the artist may want to convey to me through the name they chose.

Among the many approaches are:

Purely descriptive

Green House and Table, Jay Stern, 2023, Oil on canvas

Atmospheric

Avenue de l’Opéra: Morning Sunshine, Camille Pissaro, 1898, Oil on Canvas

An identifier of place

Meeting Street, Ivan Summers, ca.1925, Oil on canvas

Or person

Café Fortune Teller, Mary Hoover Aiken, 1933, Oil on canvas

A Marker of Time

Last Sickness, Alice Neil, 1953, Oil on canvas

Or a literary reference

Diana of the Sea, Marguerite Thompson Zurich, 1940, Oil on canvas

And some are completely enigmatic

The Bride Stripped Bare by her Bachelors, Even (The Large Glass), Marcel Duchamp, 1915-23, Oil paint, varnish, lead foil, lead wire, dust, two glass panels. Curiosity got the better of me. For a better understanding behind Duchamp’s title, read this article.

And then there is the total (IMHO) cop-out: “Untitled”.

I bounce around in my approach, but often go the esoteric route.
While I don’t believe that a title creates a “make or break” situation, or that a sense of connection necessarily hinges on a title, I do think it adds another layer of depth to a work — another chance to create a sense of understanding.

The Secrets She Keeps, after Hans Memling ©2020 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk, 24″ x 18″ This piece, which I’m happy to say has found a new home, is of Barbara van Vlaendenbergh. She was the wife of Willem Moreel, a prominent and wealthy landowner in 15th century Bruges. While there is plenty of information to be found about him, sadly all I could find about her was that she had given birth to 18 children. I felt compelled to give credence to the depth of her story which remains untold in history. My title was a nod to that omission: imagine the wisdom she would have been able to relate, if only she could!

But I admit, it’s something of a game. I look at my titles as an opportunity to encode the work with a reference that, while often not immediately obvious, has the potential to reward anyone who takes the time to pay attention.

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If you’re in the central Vermont area, treat yourself to the three exhibits currently on view at Burlington City Arts: Bunny Harvey: World Within Worlds, Stéphanie Morissette: Speculative Future and Susan Smirka: in the Lorraine B. Good room.