2020 Was a Very Good Year

  

 
I know, I know. 2020 will go down as one of the worst years in our lives. What with COVID, combative politics, and racial issues in this country just about everyone is worn out and ready for 2021 for a fresh start. I agree with all that, but 2020 was a great year for my art.

I had three exhibits. The first was at the Phipps Center for the Arts in Hudson, WI. This was a great show in a beautiful large gallery space. It showed off my large landscapes well and led to two sales. My next exhibit was at Gallery 360.  It was the first regular art exhibit they had since the lockdowns began. The opening was attended by a good number of people - not too many at any one time but people throughout the entire time. There were numerous paintings sold during the exhibit and one after the fact. My third exhibit was at the Landmark Center in downtown Saint Paul. Although sparsely attended due to the building having limited access, the exhibit was well received and I had a great experience of creating a video of the exhibit.

This spring I sold the painting Grassy Island Rocks which won last year's State Fair competition. It is a great story of how the painting sold, maybe to be told at a later date. There were some additional sales of art and prints throughout the year and some calendars (a new item) sold. I feel extremely blessed to be able to do what I love.

There are many people to thank for this year's success. Of course, there are the people who purchased art, fine art prints and calendars. I have much appreciation for your support of me and my vision. But there are also many other people who help in other ways. A big thank you goes out to my sister, Sharon, who has been helping me with the new studio renovation - and is just always there to lend a hand. Many thanks go to Anastasia Shartin, Merry Beck and Judy Brooks and staff and volunteers who helped with set up of each of the exhibits. After years of hanging my own work, it is so enjoyable to have someone help in these situations. A shout out to my friends at Wet Paint who have the latest scoop on art materials when I have questions and who also are artists who I talk to about making art, not just about buying supplies. A thank you especially to Greg Graham who came out to look at my work and discuss. A special thank you to Dania, my first Patron. A thank you goes out to my daughter, Maddie, who is inspiring me as she is just starting her own creative career, And of course, a thank you to Delilah, my dog, who is my companion in the studio - which can get pretty lonely at times.

I wish the life of an artist was just about painting, but I spend much time doing social media, running my website and applying to galleries and exhibit spaces. Even in these endeavors there are people behind the scenes helping. I have a website host, Art Storefronts, that provides great promotional help and there are other artists with who I consult, write grants and collaborate. And of course, there are those people who follow me on social media and interact with me about my art and activities.

It is a rich life and although it has been the worst of times, it has also been the best of times.

May your holidays be filled with family, friends (at a safe distance) and good food. May your 2021 bring you love, peace and enough prosperity. May you be blessed. Happy New Year and see you on the other side.

Northern Wisconson Commission

 For a long weekend, recently, my studio was a cabin in Northern Wisconsin. In order to paint a commission of the area around a family cabin, I was blessed to spend some time, with my dog, in this natural area. The cabin was a classic Midwest cabin: simple, efficient in it's use of space with beautiful views of the lake and surrounded by lush woods. Delilah and I hiked the logging roads and even went for a rowboat ride on the lake in order to collect some good photos and make sketches. Sometimes there are perks to being an artist. I will be creating a survey of images to present to the client and then creating a final painting from their choice. 

Origins of the Wildman

I spent much of August outside of the studio. The morning after my opening at Gallery 360, I headed up north to Mallard Island on Rainy Lake for two weeks. I slept, swam and enjoyed relaxing with just a handful of people.  While there I worked on four still-lifes for the exhibit at the Landmark Center. There are thousands of books on the island. I was looking for an image of Saturn Eating His Son by Goya to put into a painting but instead found the book Wild Men in the Middle Ages by Richard Bernheimer, 1952. It was a fascinating read about the European myth of the wild man who lives in the woods. These men started as the mentally ill who could not live within society and ended up living in the woods outside of towns and villages. Soon, stories circulated about their "wildness" in order to scare children and keep polite society in line. These myths eventually blossomed into many local legends and eventually evolved into the harlequin of French culture, the monsters of Grimm's fairy tales and even our modern stories about yeti's and Sasquatch. 

Many festivals arose to pay tribute to the Wild Man. During these festivals, men dressed as animals and fantastic beasts would enter people's homes stealing their food. The Wild Man, generally a very large man, protected the other animal-men by threatening anyone who tried to stop them. Soon, it became very popular to establish secret societies of wild men, similar to today's more benign Saint Paul Minnesota's Winter Carnival Vulcans. One story has it that a French King, Charles VI, wanted to participate in a Wild Man festival. He dressed up as a Wild Man and, with others, invaded the queen's quarters. Unable to recognize the king, he was soundly beaten by the queen's guard. Not having learned his lesson, the next year, 1393, he wanted to have a wild man event again. The queen convinced him to hold a masquerade ball, the Bal des Sauvages. With an organized event he could not get beat up by her guards, or anyone else.

That evening, with everyone in costume, the king entered chained to four other top officials dressed as wild men and proceeded to perform a dance. Unfortunately, an onlooker carrying a torch accidentally set one of the dancers on fire. Soon all five dancers, being chained together, were aflame. The four officials died while the king was only saved because a woman in a costume with a large train covered him with her dress and smothered the flames.

As I read the book I began to recognize the Wild Man in many of today's stories: that character that is out of control, unsophisticated, only interested in the moment and his own needs while at odds with society and progress. Sometimes the character becomes a part of society only to eventually revert back to the woods. Characters like Shrek, The Joker, Frankenstein and The Beast from Beauty and the Beast come to mind. In movies, the Wild Man is often layered over the personality of murderers and serial killers. I couldn't help but notice in contemporary political storytelling, the red state rural followers of Trump are presented in this manner. The urban Democrats are presented as the cultured sophisticated elite. It is a powerful myth that reaches into our deepest feelings and reflexes.

The Wild Man eventually made it into one of the paintings I was creating while on the island (see the above Feature Painting). I love the myth of the Wild Man and think he will be appearing again in my art, in concept if not actually in person.

Eye Can See!

 

Today, with my left eye, I was able to read letters on an eye chart for the first time in a year and a half. Six surgeries after my retina detached my eye is finally stabilizing and beginning to act normal.  Though I am beginning to have sight again, the doctors tell me it will not be 20/20 or even close to what I can see with my right eye. Still, I feel blessed that I can see anything out of that eye. Next week the doctor will shoot lasers in my eye for about three minutes to resolve an issue and then I will need one more surgery to remove some scar tissue on my retina. That will happen in September. Then I will have what I will have. Apparently, I will reach my best vision six to eight months after the surgeries are complete. I will have decent peripheral vision which helps tremendously with my depth perception and driving. I will have to wait to find out what my straight-ahead vision will be as that is where the worst of the scarring is. In this crazy tumultuous year, I am at least, literally, seeing some good news.

A New Answer to an Old Question

I have had several visitors to my studio this month. Some shoppers, a dealer and friends. Someone asked me if I have a hard time when a painting is purchased and taken from my studio, never for me to see again. I have been asked this question several times over the years but gave a different answer this time. The answer I gave helped me to see my own growth in the last few years.

Previously, I would answer this question by saying something, like, "No, I make my paintings to sell," or "No, if people enjoy them, I'm happy for them to have them."  These answers were, and are, true. But this last week I answered "No, any individual painting is small compared to what I am developing: my visual language and my perceptions on artmaking and life."  Ultimately, my art practice has become more about my own personal development and ability than the paintings created. It is an exciting place to be.

  

I am a good Minnesotan: I try not to talk about myself too much, I digress to other people's opinions, and have a self-deprecating sense of humor. But, I realized several years ago, if I am going to get anywhere with my art it has to be about me. This is a literal and non-literal statement. My art doesn't have to be self-portraits or represent real events in my life, but my art has to be grounded in how I think, how I feel and how I experience life.

The journey is the Muse. My own way of interpreting (my art practice) is the venue. The outcome is a better me. What I gain from my practice of making art is of more value than the byproduct - the paintings. Selling a painting has become an act that adds more depth and satisfaction to this process instead of being the goal. To know that someone has been moved by my work, has sacrificed something to have it, and welcomed it into their life let's me be more confident in my practice, helps me understand myself differently.

I have no idea where being focused on my own personal development, as lived-out in my art practice, will lead. At the moment, it seems right and all the external indicators continue to point me in this direction. It is heart-warming to have hope in one's own future. It is exhilarating to not know what the future holds. It is happiness to have a purpose - a reason to get up every day to make discoveries. 

As I stated at the beginning of this newsletter, I am privileged. The simple act of living in this society is not hard for me. I have mental and physical space for pursuing what some would consider an esoteric endeavor. But I do see an art practice as being foundational to who I am and what it means to be a human. The response by artists and communities to the recent violence in my cities, Minneapolis and Saint Paul, only reaffirms this understanding - to be human is to create. To be human is to develop one's own language for life. To be human is to toil for years creating a better world only to determine that it isn't good enough, tear down what you have done, and be excited to wake up the next day and make new discoveries.

Making Art in a Time of Virus

 Uff-dah! What a month. March started with my opening at the Phipps Center for the Arts and then ended with everybody hiding in their homes. In some respects, life has become more dystopian. In some respects, little has changed. I still spend a lot of time in my art studio, isolated from others. I am an introvert and have been enjoying my time being sequestered away. I am in my fourth week of teleworking. I see my neighbors when we walk our dogs, but otherwise I don't see anybody in person. I would like to see others, but for now I'm okay with the self-isolation. An artist friend of mine joked last week that nothing has changed for him because he has spent the last 35 years in one room. He will continue to work in his studio through the pandemic.
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Today, I was texting with a young man who lives in a refugee camp in Kenya. Coronavirus is starting to spread in the camp and people are very fearful because the government will do little to protect them. Most of the refugees are from the civil war in Sudan.  At the root of his situation is Tribalism in Sudan, where one brother is pitted against another because of thin divisions that have been fanned into flames over the decades. This week I also read my family members yelling at each other on social media over the leadership, or lack there of, by our current president. Again, thin divisions that have been fanned into flames over the last few decades. 

My daughter, who is currently stranded in Scotland, asked me last year how climate-change will alter the planet. Basically, wondering if there still will be a livable planet. Unfortunately, I had to share my thoughts that millions of people will be dying in the next several decades. The only bright side is that she is a white woman in a wealthy society in the Northern hemisphere which means she will see less of the destruction and chaos than many. And yet, this week I see reports about how pollution has toppled once countries started requiring their citizens to shelter-in-place (in India air-borne particulate matter is down 71%). There have been many reports of wildlife coming back into cities with less activity to scare them away. So many people are spending time walking outdoors that parks are becoming too crowded for people to stay the recommended 6 feet apart.  .

We are in very difficult times and, I am afraid, it is only going to get worse before it gets better. But, in the midst of this cleaving and fracturing of the old world, the seeds of the new world are evident. One of the transformations that needs to happen is that we, as a world, need to do less. We need to move around less, buy less, and build less, We need to be able to sit still and feel satisfied instead of pushing at the world to form it to our liking. We need to be quiet and let the world come to us - allow the earth to seep back into our bones so that we can feel at home.

We now know that our identity, and society, cannot be based on money. The more we base our self-worth on money, the less resource we actually have. Unchecked capitalist systems, if they are run by greedy people, are cruel, heartless and just as much a tool for harm as any other form of economy. We need to base our identity as a country and a world on something other than the accomplishments of the wealthy.

We also need a world that heals the divisions between us. All people are about 95% similar, but we focus on the 5% of difference. It is sad, it makes my heart weep. Coming through this pandemic and the economic hardships that are coming, we need to lift people up. We need to see our differences and weaknesses with compassion and not try to find ways to weaponize them. In essence, we need to love - something our holy books and art have been telling us for centuries. But our holy books and art also tell us that we don't listen very well. It is a struggle.

After every night there is a day. After every pandemic there is life. I pray that we all can watch out for each other now and when this is over.  I am already planning for a better future. Please join me.