Summer 2025
The Rockland Center For the Arts, in West Nyack, NY, mounted its first physical shows since the pandemic. I am very happy that I was asked to exhibit my "gold pages" as well as canvasses, from May 14 - June 12, 2021.
The pages, all 8.5" x 11" are meant to suggest something precious, reminiscent of ancient documents with a written language unknown to us. I like the interplay of languages - the artist's mark and codified language.
Clouded Mirror, Acrylic, mica, pastel on paper, mounted on cradled board, 12” x12”x 1 ½”
Marriage of Red and Gold, acrylic, oil pastel, gold leaf on paper, 9” x 12
The Gold Series
I believe it is the darkness of these times that has pushed me into the territory of gold, the gold of hope and light. It is my refuge against the darkness. I admit to a long term fascination for iridescence, sparkle. There are optical reasons, the stimulation for the eye, and symbolic reasons. Gold can represent the divine, the otherworldly, an imaginary realm.
The gold paintings generally begin with an underlayer of marks rendered quickly with a rhythmic, forward drive, made with transparent oil pastels. The oil leaves a raised mark, a texture, which can be sensed even after a layer or two of acrylic paint is applied.
Paradise In a Time of Peril, 48” x 44”, acrylic, oil pastel, gold leaf on canvas
Red, blood, passion, secrets of the heart.
For years, I felt I couldn't get enough red. I hoped other people
craved it too. How much red is enough?
I trace my involvement with red to a trip to the Austrian Alps
in the late 80's. Walking around in the mountains, I was struck by the
bright red geraniums cascading down from the plentiful window boxes.
I felt I had never seen red like that and remarked on my surprise to an
Austrian acquaintance walking with me who said, "You never have.
The air is purer here."
I strive for that kind of red, that purity and force of red.
"Heart", acrylic, oil pastel on Khadi paper, 8" x 8"
Sheltering in place meant watercolors, the only media other than pencils available to me at home. But I love watercolor. Deprived of my studio, other opportunities emerged. Over and over, I painted watercolors of landscapes, shelters really, that gave me a sense of peace and refuge. I'd think - rock - water - hill, sometimes trees - and find a place that gave me hope and comfort.
My place was my home, as the studio, 10 miles away, was out of bounds in the beginning of the pandemic. My home took on new meaning. What developed? Nothing at all to do with my work in the studio!
Something else. And, since it was spring, a spring unlike any other, blossoms and life
appeared. Flowers, stamen, petals, abundance, joy. At these times, abstraction was not
the right form. The psyche creates what it needs.
La Macina di San Cresci in Chianti, is a sublime residency. I was lucky to be there last November, returning to New York just before the pandemic. Surrounded by olive groves and vineyards of the famed Tuscan landscape, I lived and worked in a 10th century church complex. The old church, now an exhibition space, and its historic buildings, were lovingly restored by Duccio Trassinelli, a lighting designer and Demetria Verduci, architect, the founders of the residency.
My studio, a grotto of ancient rock and massive wood had plentiful spaces, one of which housed the former grindstone with attached yoke for a cow to turn the stone. The medieval floor of rocks under my feet had fossils, watery shapes, and hatch marks of over a thousand years, the drawings of time. The massive wood table I worked on revealed the incidents of time in little marks, perhaps the draftsmanship of ancient insects.
Outside the door, the Tuscan light! The noble olive trees! A medieval walled town across the valley! All this with a great sound system playing mostly American jazz from Swiss Radio Jazz.
Information can be found at www.chianticom.com.