Back to Work!

Whew! I think I'm FINALLY back. Well, mostly. I have to leave again for a few days next week to deliver work to buyers (!!!), but other than that I think that the flat-out pace of the last four months is finally coming to an end.

Which is not to say that I'm going to stop going a mile a minute. I'm just going to be doing it over a much smaller geographic area.

Proof that work is happening:

Hey... this looks like lino!

It's a small section of a BIG block. 18" x 18". Here's hoping that I haven't forgotten how to do this...

Meditations on Fall at Oh Be Joyful Gallery

Oh Be Joyful Gallery's autumn show, Meditations on Fall, is on now through October 11 in beautiful Crested Butte, Colorado. Meditations on Fall  showcases paintings by David Grossman, Meredith Nelson, Cheryl St. John, and linocuts by... me!

Artists' Reception this Thursday, September 24, 5:00-9:00 pm, in conjunction with Crested Butte's evening Art Walk. I hope to see some local folks there!

OBJ Gallery - 409 Third Street - Crested Butte, Colorado - (970) 349-5936

Birds in Art, duckies, and what comes after

Once again the Leigh Yawkey Woodson Art Museum outdid itself with the opening of their annual Birds in Art exhibition.

More than 600 international artists in a wide variety of media submit more than 1,000 hopeful pieces to the jury each year, and only a lucky 120 or so are included in the show. The caliber of art and artists is absolutely top notch, and the museum staff go out of their way to make the exhibition experience a great one for artists and art-lovers.

It's always a special honor to be included in the show, but it was extra-fun to be a part of this year's 40th anniversary festivities.

The opening weekend is a busy one, with multiple receptions, an artists' luncheon, a patron dinner, and "Artists in Action" demonstrations. And of course someone you know had to take the opportunity to talk to people about reduction linocuts.

Sharing the reduction linocut process during "Artists in Action."
And hey! That's Calvin Nicholls and his wife Ann looking on.
Calvin's papersculptures were recently featured on Colossal. (LYWAM photo)

A great variety of media were represented by demonstrations: including oil and acrylic by Robert Bateman and charcoal by Karen Bondarchuk. Wendy Brockman and Derek Robertson shared watercolor techniques, scratchboard got its day in the sun with Cathy Sheeter, and owlman Clarence Cameron demonstrated stone carving magic... but the real show-stealer was sculptor Paul Rhymer, who poured bronze right there in the museum garden. (And sorry, I don't remember who else was giving demos because I never got out from behind my table!)

Paul Rhymer pours bronze. Show off. (LYWAM photos)

Also during the Saturday morning opening, previously-honored Master Artists shared their Birds in Art memories in a presentation called "7 x 7 x 7." The seven artists each had seven minutes to share seven slides... and if they went over time museum Director Kathy Foley was there with a gong to shoo them off the stage. Great fun.

 LYWAM Director Kathy Foley keeps speakers on track. (LYWAM photo)

One of the best aspects of the show is the opportunity for the participating artists to just spend time together, talking shop (and sometimes talking smack) and catching up with what everyone's up to. The bulk of this happens "up north" at a barbeque at the Woodson family property. The icing on the cake? How about a cake decorated with details of the work of all the exhibition artists!

Can you find my pelican? Lower right.

Yep. I think I've mentioned that the Woodson staff go all out for this event.

This year each of us also received a new little buddy: a Birds in Art ducky! Our duckies are charged with going forth into the world and sending back photos of their exploits, so of course mine is already getting around. If you want to follow them, then #birdsinartducky is your hashtag. Me, I don't use Twitter, but the museum does, so you can follow along with the fun. Or you can check out the Woodson Museum's Facebook page, which has gone quite humorously yellow already.

You might think it's impossible for the museum follow a weekend like that with any more excitement, but you would be mistaken. Yesterday morning I received an email from Curator Jane Weinke... letting me know that the Woodson Art Museum will be acquiring my piece, "Cruisin'," for its permanent collection. Holy duckies, Batman! Err... Birdman. It's a darn good thing the next exhibition is a year away. I'm going to need that much time to get down off this cloud.

In the meantime, I'll be facilitating an Illustrated Journal workshop at Buffalo Peaks Ranch this weekend and opening the autumn exhibition at Oh Be Joyful Gallery in Crested Butte next week. Of course I'll also be getting back to work in the studio with a full dose of inspiration and motivation. And a yellow ducky.

Gone Birds-in-Arting

I'm off to Wausau, Wisconsin for opening weekend at the Woodson Art Museum's 40th Annual Birds in Art exhibition. You're probably tired of hearing (reading?) me gush about this show, so here's some info from the press release instead:

Varied and accomplished depictions of avian life, from regal poses, lively gatherings, and calm repose to sculptural statements and whimsical trompe l’oeil works highlight why throughout four decades Birds in Art has earned international esteem.

The 2015 exhibition includes the work of 102 artists, selected by three jurors, and 21 who have been named Master Artists during previous Birds in Art exhibitions. Artwork from 607 artists was submitted for the 2015 jury’s consideration.

Opening day, Saturday, September 12, provides varied opportunities to interact with more than 60 Birds in Art artists visiting from throughout the world for the 40th-anniversary festivities.

• The Museum opens at 9 am; meet and mingle with the artists, 9 am-Noon, and get catalogues and posters signed. (Sherrie says, "Hey, one of those posters is by me!")
• Birds in Art Master Artists share insights, 9:30-10:30 am, during brief, image-based presentations under a sculpture garden tent.
• Artists in Action demonstrate various mediums and explain techniques, 10:45 am-12:15 pm. (Sherrie says, "Hey! This is also me!")

 Birds in Art is on view at the Woodson, September 12 through November 29. Museum admission is always free, so if you're in the neighborhood you should really stop on in and check it out.

See you all next week!

Linocut in Progress: Where the demo stands

I've been back in Colorado about a week and a half, and suddenly I'm pulling out the suitcase to leave again! Next weekend the festivities for the opening of Birds in Art at the Woodson Art Museum will be underway, and I'm off to Wisconsin to join the goings-on. It's the 40th Anniversary of this prestigious international juried show, and if the strange images that are showing up in my Facebook feed are any indication, there's going to be a lot of goofiness to add to the celebration.

But before I could start packing again I had to get my demonstration piece into good enough shape to have it be meaningful in the 90 minutes I have to complete it on site.

As I show you Step 4, keep in mind that this was going to only be a two-color image.

Demo reduction linocut, Step 4.

 Yep, one more blue pass. Just because. And then a lot of carving to get to Step 5:

Hey! There are birds in this lino! Step 5.

Back when this was going to be a two-color print, this was going to be Step 2, but of course all that went out the window immediately. I seems a little cheezy to end with just a flat dark after all the fussiness with the blues, so this is not the final step. I'm going to carve some details in to the birds and maybe in to a bit of the branches and THEN I'm going to print black. There won't be a lot of contrast, but one doesn't see a lot of contrast when looking within silhouetted shapes, anyway.

I'm not sure that it's going to be a completely successful image, but for something cranked out in two days it will be good enough for the demonstration. I pulled out a print at each stage, so my audience will be able to (hopefully) wrap their brains around the reduction process.

Success or failure, I'll show you the final result when I return from Wisconsin. Until then... check out this great article in Scientific American about the benefits of drawing for art AND science. It made me want to grab my sketchbook and run outside. Maybe I will...

Is that INK I see?

Indeed it is, and a completely chaotic work surface, too. As I mentioned in my last post, I'm scheduled to give a demonstration during the opening weekend festivities for the Woodson Art Museum's Birds in Art exhibition on September 12. That's not a lot of time to put together a new linocut, especially since I've been out of the studio for three months. And double-especially because I have to produce this one "old skool," with a baren and a little portable registration jig.

You should have seen me this morning... On a quest for the jig (on shelf under work surface), paper (precut last spring, in a drawer), and most alarmingly, my baren, which remained elusive for a good 20 minutes while I tried to discover where I had stashed it. All my inks and carving tools had been stashed away, too...

I had this ridiculous notion that I would make a "really simple" demonstration piece: One blended roll for the first step, and then a solid black silhouette over the top. Piece of cake.

Bzzzzzt! Wrong! I made a horrific mess mixing all the wrong colors, creating ugly blends, and wasting several sheets of paper before I decided I'd better just start with a solid blue rectangle.

Remembering how to print: Step 1

Okay, then.

Obviously my two-step plan is out the window at Step 1. At least I am reassured that SOME things don't change during a long absence, chief among them my inability to keep things simple.

I decided that since I was already on Plan B I might as well experiment with the background. Here you can start to see some efforts at funky texture, printed with a subtle blended blue.

A little less wobbly: Step 2

Step 3 was to be another blended roll, but the first tests didn't look all that great, so I went back to a solid transparent blue (again) and more carved texture.

My two-step print reaches Step 3

Aaaaaannd... here we are already at Step 3.

Aaaaaannnnd..... now I think there will be at least 5, possibly 6 passes before it's finished.
Go ahead. Say it.

It felt great to be working, even with all the frustrations caused by plain ol' rustiness. Unfortunately hand-printing wreaks havoc with the tendinitis that I thought would get a rest this summer but which has in fact gotten worse. (sigh) Thankfully I had the presence of mind to schedule a massage before I left home in May.... it's tomorrow. I also scheduled a haircut, which is today. You may applaud my foresight now.

The focus of the next few days is clear, and happily so. I had a fantastic summer away, but these last few weeks I've been twitchy to get back to linos. Unlike the insect bites I acquired in Maine, this is one itch I am happy to scratch.

Back Where I Started

Maine said goodbye in the same way it greeted me in May: With rain and mist and a sigh.

But before that, things were a blur of activity. Some teaching, some drawing, some socializing.

Rockweed, leaf, and crab carapace

What's Maine without lobsters?

Blueberry, beard lichen, plant life

View from the Queen Mary deck

I've been back in Colorado for a couple of days now, but am finding the transition a little bumpy. I've had to hit the ground running-- shipping sold work, framing and ordering frames for upcoming shows, plowing through three months of mail and bookkeeping. My internet service was reinstalled this morning... and slowly but surely I'm finding my feet again.

Evening comes to Hog Island

I'm anxious to get back to work on linos... in fact it's imperative that I do so soon. I'm scheduled to give a demo at the Woodson Art Museum's "Birds in Art" exhibition in less than two weeks and I have nothing started. Eek. Tomorrow will be one more day of "other stuff," but Monday it's back to the studio! Hooray!

Still, it's hard to listen to the sounds of town and remember that for the last three months I've had seabirds, loons, waves, and boats as my background soundtrack. But as Dr. Seuss said, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." And I've got a lot to smile about.

One more sunset from the island

Fieldwork...umm... Wednesday?

It's Tuesday evening here in Muscongus Bay. I'm still on Hog Island, where Family Camp began this evening in a deluge. We have big rain forecast all night, so I battened down the hatches at the Cottage and came in to camp. Everything is quite snug out there, but I'm on deck to teach a workshop in camp tomorrow and depending on the weather it might happen first thing in the morning. It seemed prudent to spend the night here rather than start my day hoofing it in through rain and mud.

I've been finding a rhythm out in my little cabin in the woods. Sketches are being made, albeit slowly and without much focus. It's been a long time since I let myself draw any old thing that appealed to me, so here's a peek at what's been catching my eye.

Beach pea and driftwood on the rocks below the Cottages

A chicken skeleton in the bio lab

Crab leg twelve ways. (Embiggenable with a click)

View across Porthole Cove to the Helm cabin.

Mayflower, starflower, and something I don't know. Also embiggenable.

Red spruce

Suddenly my entire summer away from Colorado is almost over. Hard to believe I've been away since May, and harder yet to think of leaving the island in just two weeks. It's been a great adventure and I am not at all ready for it to end.

Shifting gears... again

The Writer's Cottage at the Bingham Cottage residency, Hog Island, Maine

August. Hard to believe that I left Colorado in May and am still away. I've changed hats yet again... from Program Manager to Euro-traveler to Instructor... and now Artist-in-Residence.

I'm still on Hog Island, but I've moved from the camp peninsula on to the main part of the island. I've made my own camp in two historic buildings, known jointly as the Bingham Cottages.

Millicent Todd Bingham gave Hog Island to the National Audubon Society in 1936, naming the Todd Wildlife Sanctuary for her mother and establishing the camp's mission as a teaching facility. What we today call "the Binghams" are the last two remaining buildings of the original 8 that were the summer compound of Millicent's parents, David Todd and Mabel Loomis Todd. Mabel's story is long and complex (and a bit scandalous), but she is probably best known as the woman who first edited and brought to publication the poetry of Emily Dickinson.

The cottages were restored in 2012 through the efforts of the Friends of Hog Island volunteer association. In 2014 both a writer and a playwright spent time working in these cottages, and the Bingham Cottage Artist Residency program came to an informal start.

Part of my tenure here is to help formalize the residency program, which we hope to launch and  begin taking applications for this fall. I'm staying in the cottages with one eye to potential residents who won't necessarily already have a connection to this place and its wonders (or quirks). A sort of shakedown cruise to iron out the wrinkles. If you're in to mixed metaphors. Which apparently I am.

The Main Lodge porch

Main Lodge interior. Photos of the interior as it looked during the
early 1900s are on the wall in the back.

The cottages are "rustic," which means no water and no power. Well... there's a small solar panel which provides enough juice to power a laptop or cell phone and a small light in the Lodge, but the Writer's cabin is strictly off-off grid. And yes, there's an outhouse.

But I have my own beach (when the tide is out), my own red squirrels, and from time to time my own bald eagles perched in the "yard."

What I don't have is a lot of success yet with drawing. Mostly I keep trying to tackle things that are entirely too ambitious, too complex. When I sit down and draw the things I've been carting around in my pockets, no problem. But what I love most about this landscape is the intricacies of ferns and mosses and the ridiculous shades of green. When it comes to drawing, this landscape does NOT love me back.

Seed cones of white pine and red spruce, spruce branch with lichen

At least not yet.

Remains of an old rock wall

Of course part of the "problem" is that I've set myself up to try to accomplish entirely too many things while I'm here. The project I arrived wanting to do has already morphed into something else. And there's the residency to hash out. And some interp displays to get started on. And a couple of little sessions to do at Family Camp next week. And of course there's still a social schedule. ;-) So I'm constantly distracted. And while I'm seeing a zillion potential linocuts, that's not what I thought I would be doing, so of course I didn't outfit myself for it. Ah, well. I'll figure it out.

Until then, I'm enjoying many beautiful sunsets (doesn't this look like a good potential lino to you?) and the companionship of waves and seabirds. Not a bad way to spend my time.

There and back again... and again.

Um, yes. Life has been a bit surreal lately. And if you read this entire post, your life may take on a strange aspect, too... since this will be a longish narrative. But there will be nice photos, I promise.

Hey, that's me! Sketching ancient rocks in a French meadow.

After a week in the Netherlands I traveled to France, first to visit friend and colleague Jean-Louis Verdier and his wife Dominique. It was great to see more of Jean-Louis' work, which has run the gamut of science and science fiction illustration. I was most familiar with Jean-Louis' insect paintings... sometimes enormous, and always intricately observed.

Jean-Louis is also one of that interesting breed of Frenchmen who is (and I say this without exaggeration) mad about American "old time" music. He has an amazing collection of antique banjos and mandolins, and was kind enough to indulge my request for a private concert. (You can watch a Sigrove Stompers video here.)

 

Together we visited the Jardin des Sens in Coutières. It's a special place, not only for its lovely gardens, but also because it filters water for the entire community through a "natural" system.

From the countryside around Fomperron I traveled to the coast of Bretagne, wherein I made my one and only train mistake (and I rode a lot of trains). I missed my stop and ended up at the end of the line on the last train of the day. With much gesticulating I was finally able to convince the Chef du Gare to call my friend Denis ("Oui, he speaks French"), who was waiting in the place I was supposed to be. I felt a bit foolish, obliging Denis to drive further to retrieve me, but in the end it turned out to be a good mistake. We drove through the marais salants as the sun set, watching the paludier at work and getting to see marsh owls and baby avocets.

The trip to Mesquer was the impetus for the entire trip. Not the grand art or great food of the Continent, but a birthday party under a big tree in a garden by the sea.

It was so great to spend time with friends old and new, including a few I hadn't seen in 16 years. (!!!) The birthday boy, Denis Clavreul, and mutual friend Robin D'Arcy Shillcock (both outstanding artists, of course) have been my friends, colleagues, and confidants for almost 25 years. Our in-the-flesh meetings are infrequent and all-too-brief... but each time we pick up as though no time has passed and sharing a table is the most natural thing in the world. Which it is.

Dunes and beach at Mesquer, France

But with a blink it was over and I was in motion again, first to spend a day in Rotterdam with my dear friend Nicky and then overnight in Amsterdam for my flight back to the States. In Rotterdam Nicky and I visited the new grand Markthal... an astounding indoor market building. (With apartments all around the top and sides.) I didn't take photos of the exterior (you can see plenty if you follow the link), but here's a panorama of the interior. (That's Nicky looking at the interp display in the lower right.)

Markthal Rotterdam - click to embiggen

One of many cool things about this building is that it has interpretive displays! During the excavation  for three levels of underground parking they uncovered many layers of Dutch historical artifacts. The escalator to the parking levels is itself an exhibit... a timeline of Rotterdam history as you travel up and down.

Markthal escalator with timeline.

At each level's landing there is a door to the parking garage, and just outside the door is an exhibit of artifacts discovered during the construction.

It's fascinating stuff, and really thoughtfully done. (In both Dutch and English, if you're wondering.)

After the Markthal we stopped in the Museum Boijmans van Beuningen, which has fantastic collections of old masters and modern oddities. I spent a lot of time in the print room, which rotates its displays of work on paper every few months. One can also sit on the bench and access the collection digitally to check out works that are not currently on exhibit. (Images are projected on the wall opposite the bench.)

Nicky returned home to Hardenberg and I found my way to Amsterdam and my hotel. The next day I flew to Boston (via Detroit, if you can believe it). I spent two nights at the Mass Audubon Museum of American Bird Art in Canton, where I had a chance to view an exhibition of watercolors by Don Eckelberry and to lead a couple of printmaking activities with children at the Museum's summer camp program.

From there it was back to Maine and Hog Island. Yes, it was one of those cliché weeks: Monday France, Tuesday Netherlands, Wednesday Travel, Thursday Boston, Friday Maine. It's now a week later and we have just wrapped up five days of programming for Educators' camp.

On Monday the next adventure begins, as I move out to the Bingham cottages and take up my role as Artist-in-Residence.

It's overcast and cool here today, and fairly quiet. All of the campers and most of the staff have gone back out into the world and those of us who remain are enjoying a more leisurely pace... catching up with email and laundry (and blog posts). Thank you all for indulging the travelog the past few weeks... I'm hoping to share some island field work soon!

View from.... The OTHER coast

It's been about a week since I left Maine and traveled first to Boston and then on to Amsterdam. From Amsterdam it was a series of trains and one bus to reach the neighborhood of my dear friend here in Hardenberg, but I arrived without incident.

And it was HOT! The Netherlands have been experiencing a record heatwave, just in time for my visit. It was at least 97 F here, and humid of course. Despite a month in the damp Maine coastal environment, this arid-country girl was melting.


But life goes on even when you're drowning in your own sweat, so when in Netherlands do as the Dutch and get on your bicycle.


With friend Nicky's guidance I quickly became master of the Dutch train system. Okay, maybe not master, but at least I'm not completely hopeless. Chipkaart in hand and bicycle at the ready I managed to find my way to visit artist friends in several different areas of the country, including sculptor Jaap te Kiefte. Since the last time I visited Jaap had completed and installed a commissioned portrait of the writer Simon Vestdÿk in the city of Doorn. A nice extra: there is a "secret" place on the sculpture which serves as a kind of geocache, where visitors quietly exchange one of Vestdÿk's many books for another.


It stays light here for a long time in the evenings, and it's easy to lose track of the hour. On one of my forays I found myself getting off the train in Hardenberg at almost 11:00pm. Cycling home from the station in the dark and quiet with my scarf blowing behind me is a memory that will stay with me a long time... Especially the part where I crossed over the river and had my reverie interrupted by a cloud of gnats. So much for idyllic moments.




Tomorrow the next chapter begins, as I travel to France to visit more friends there. It's a lot of moving about in a short amount of time, but I am determined to take every opportunity to connect (and reconnect) with people I don't get to see very often- To engage in conversations about art and the artist's journey, to drink wine and eat bread, to laugh, to learn about ourselves and each other. To be surprised by the things we have in common and the things we don't. Trying to sort out unfamiliar bird song and eating stroopwafels is icing on the cake.

Travel for me is not about sightseeing, it's about becoming a "bigger," better person. As Mark Twain said, "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.... Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things can not be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime."

Amen.

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Location:The Netherlands