I am a sucker for details. I’m that person you see with her nose 10 inches from an artwork, studying each mark and line, searching for clues and tracks left by the artist. I want to feel his or her presence, to sit on her shoulders in order to get an idea of what it must have been like to make that particular piece.

A large part of my enjoyment in going to galleries is in looking beyond the finished work, in digging into the thought process of the artist so as to imagine how those works came to be. As a result, I prefer art that isn’t too polished; work that leaves evidence of the artist’s hand, allowing me to be swept up in their unique expression, their visible manifestation of time devoted to learning and effort.

Collage, as a medium, is akin to Hansel & Gretel’s dropped pebbles, leading one back to the heart of an artist’s intent. Often consisting of mixed media, one can follow the artist’s footsteps through the physicality of the work’s layers.

The Vermont Supreme Court Gallery’s current exhibit of Arthur Schaller’s Ships & Shadows, which will be up through June 30th, is a collage tour de force. Color and pattern sing together to create a surreal marriage of space and shapes, bringing to mind a world of dreams. Breathing new life into what I assume are pictures torn from architectural, science and fashion magazines, one sees recognizable images and patterns which have morphed beyond their expected roles into a surprising and delightful reinterpretation that could be likened to a remarkably unusual meal, completely novel in taste despite familiar ingredients.

As a devotee of pattern and texture within my own work, I find Schaller’s dexterity in bending and molding both qualities enhances the depth and complexity of his images. The resulting pieces convey a sense of mystery, both above and below the waterline that bisects each work. Within the frame, the illusion of a ship in its watery environment grounds a viewer, but it is Schaller’s ability to enfold that representation within a celebration of abstraction that sweeps one away. From a purely formalistic viewpoint I love how, in an almost 3-D manner, he will carry a line across an area. Initially begun as image, the line persists by means of relief expressed through the edge of paper that lies beneath a new overlay which abruptly halts the aforementioned image section of said line. Using method and materials to their best advantage, devices such as this call to mind a conversation that, interrupted, drops to whispers yet still proceeds.

Unfortunately, I never received a response to my request for permission to use his website images as illustration here – so you will have to follow this link (and please do) to view more of his collages for yourself. But by all means, go see the work in person if you can get to Montpelier in the next month.

Finally, I can’t help but give a shout-out to the security guard at the Supreme Court for his warmth and enthusiasm in greeting visitors. In fact, many gallery directors could learn a thing or two from him. He obviously enjoys his job, happily sharing a great deal of information about the exhibiting artist’s background and work, in addition to relating the story of how the Vermont Supreme Court Gallery came to be. The gallery is the brainchild of Justice Marilyn Skoglund, a Southern Illinois University alumna with a B.A. in Fine Arts, who persuaded the other justices that the tall white walls of the court’s public lobby would make a wonderful art gallery. She was so right — and we all benefit from her vision.

Onion © 2016 Elizabeth Fram                                                       This sprouted onion, pulled from my pantry, has been drawn and painted over and over this week. This little sketch was made with Tom Norton’s water soluble Walnut Drawing Ink, the perfect medium for capturing that “oniony” feel.