There is something so magical about the way the skies color with the beginning and end of each day. It’s almost like a painted message– there is new joy and hope in a new day or take heart, this day is done, a new one comes in the morning. In his work, Scottish painter Scott Naismith explores the brilliance of those colored skies and the effects of light and color in the atmosphere.
Through the refraction and reflection of light, we are treated to skies filled with glorious color. What happens within the atmosphere and how our eyes perceive it is completely explicable, scientifically, but what about our emotional reaction to such a sight? How do we explain the warm glow within that light and those colors bring? Maybe we don’t have to. Let’s just enjoy the gift.
I’m so with you, Lucy Maud Montgomery! Mr. F and I were talking this weekend about how October is just the perfect month. The crisp air is such a welcome change following summer, the turning leaves are in full glory ( it’s been exceptionally colorful here in Western WA! ), and for us in the Northwest, the winter rains haven’t yet set fully in.
We took advantage of a clear, crisp day and made a beautiful drive to hike at Mt. St. Helens. We both hate getting up before the sun, but I love our day trip ritual. A stop at Urraco Coffee for a latte & croissant for the road, trees barely visible through the morning fog and NPR on the radio as we chat about the week past and future plans.
October feels to me like that last wonderful hour of a party.. you know, the one where the people who really love hanging out together are just kind of sitting around, chatting and basking in the afterglow of a fun time together. No one wants to say goodnight. Because once you break the spell, the magic is gone.
[ norway pass hike, mt. adams in distance ]
But then, there is something equally lovely about that post-party feeling. Taking off your shoes, climbing into a warm bed and snuggling. Sometimes we need that recovery day as much as we needed the party. Following its eruption in 1980 ( I was in the 3rd grade.. 3rd grade was big for me, St. Helens erupted, I won the spelling bee and my little brother was born ), acres around the mountain were devastated. Within just days, new seeds of life had already been planted.
[ old destruction, new growth ]
We need that, too. To slow down, sometimes to destroy in order to rebuild. And although things may not look exactly the same ever again, we emerge, perhaps even more solid and strong.
[ mr. forager, mt. st. helens & spirit lake ]
As we move into this season of hibernation, I’m sad to see October go. But I’m looking forward to cozying up to November, to entering a quieter season, a season for thinking and planning, for resting and renewing.
[ homemade seafood chowder ]
[ fall decorations at urraco ]
How does this change of season make you feel, Artsies? Do you get as excited as we do? Or were you bummed to see summer go?
When you look in the mirror, what face do you see? Not a trick question! Do you see your own visage as it actually is or do you tend to see the face of ten, twenty years earlier? We often think of faces as unchanging, until a glance from just the right angle shows us the mortality of time marching across our faces. In his work, Mexican artist Rogelio Manzo deals with the fragility of life and notion of beauty by deconstructing and distorting the faces of his subjects.
As a society, we’ve become so obsessed with the idea of youth and perfection as beauty– that the end result seems to be that we are ending up with a homogenized standard of attractiveness. The unique face, the one with a bent nose or not-quite-perfect teeth is reconstructed through surgery and orthodontia to fit the idealized “normal”. We all begin to look the same, losing our sense of what makes us each rare and uncommon.
We love our adventuring, we truly do. But there’s somehow something even more special in those ordinary moments we spend together each day. Comfort and joy in our routine, the way we “assume our positions” at the sink following dinner, he rinses, I fill the dishwasher. How I know that I’ll get a kiss each night before I close my eyes. It makes me think that these moments, not the big ones, are the ones we miss most. New York artist Giordanne Salley captures the warmth and life in her paintings that I think so many of us forget is there in the every day.
I love her use of texture and pattern– real life is layered with complexities and real homes don’t always look perfectly trendy and spotless. But if we’re lucky, we are graced with a roof over our head and every day life is filled with people we love. The next time you find yourself ready to complain about those ugly kitchen cabinets or wishing you could just redecorate that living room, remember, it isn’t the place you live that matters, it’s who lives there.
If you’ve been following Artsy Forager for a while, you may have noticed a few recurring themes in some of the work I write about– man’s relationship with nature, fashion industry and its psychology of influence, and art historical themes being a few. When I first wrote about the work Toronto based artist Amanda Clyne , she was drawing reference from and making connections between historical portraiture and high fashion photography. In her latest series, she continues the fasciation and the lines become even more blurred ( pun intended ).
In this work, she begins with a photograph of a painting. The photograph is then printed onto paper to which it doesn’t stick, creating a wet, workable surface. She then “paints” the photograph, then once the residue dries, the surface is scanned and the painting then once again becomes a photograph of a painting.
The resulting image is ghostly, with an x-ray-ish quality. A nod to the illusory nature of the original portrait? An attempt to find the real person beneath the layers of fashion and facade? In style and palette, these are much softer than Clyne’s previous series. Yet they are still asking the same questions and it seems we, as a society tend to continue to give the same answers.
We often think of walls in a negative light, something to put up to keep danger out. But they can also bring a sense of safety and comfort, creating for us a haven from the weather and the world outside. In this series of photographs, Austrian artist Rosa Rendl gives an intimate look at the walls and the views they create in a Paris building.
The perspective from which she composes her photographs creates flattened planes of view, so that the photographs lose a bit of their perspective and take on characteristics of abstract collages. I’ve always found those spots where one surface meets another to be very interesting and quite telling regarding the way a space feels. Rendl definitely has an eye for composition as she invites us into this Parisian world with just a peek at what may be.
I am forever in awe of how interconnected we have become through the glory of the inter webs! Case in point– I receive an email from artist & designer Megan Auman, telling me about her new line of gorgeous scarves based on her paintings. I think to myself, Artsy, these are awesome! But those paintings look so familiar.. Sure enough, a quick check of my Pinterest boards reveals that I’d recently pinned one of Megan’s paintings for a future Artsy Forager feature. Turns out I’d seen her work through Jaime Derringer’sInstagram feed and well, the rest is internet history!
I’ve made no secret of my scarf obsession.. my friends and family know it well! And scarves that begin life as abstract paintings, thereby combining two of my absolute favorite things? Winner, winner, warm & artsy neck!
Auman’s richly colored abstract paintings provide the starting point for these lovelies. The work is then digitally printed onto soft organic cotton ( bonus! ) and hand sewn in her Pennsylvania studio. Each scarf is made in small batches and available in limited quantities. Truly works of wearable art!
Megan Auman scarves are available for purchase in her online shop here. And Megan is generously offering a special FREE SHIPPING offer to Artsy Forager readers! Just enter the code ARTSY at checkout, but make it fast because this offer ends at midnight (EST) on Sunday 10/27. Be sure to check out Megan’s other artsy wares– gorgeous art pillows, jewelry, and especially these ingenious cozy/cuffs!
You guys. I get so excited when I come across a new artist! In fact, I’m pretty sure when I clicked through from Instagram and saw this artist’s work, I might have let out a little squeal. Jessica Simorte is creating these perfect little abstracts that practically sing with their exuberance of color, line, and composition.
These diminutive works ( I think the largest I saw was 12×12 ) pack a big punch. I love how she is translating what could easily be large compositions onto a small surface. And the little “imperfections” in each are really what get me. The fearlessness it takes to let the world see sketchy lines and that little yellow streak coming down at the bottom of the last piece? Possibly my favorite moment among them. This is definitely an artist I will be keeping my eye on!
Check out more of Jessica Simorte‘s work on her website. I wish I could remember on whose Instagram I saw Simorte’s name/work. Whoever you were, thank you for introducing me to a new favorite!
One of my favorite things to do in Portland is a little gallery-hopping. There is such a rich creative atmosphere there and this past weekend, I was seriously craving some thought provoking art. And boy, did I get it! Portland’s Pearl District is one of the best spots for art viewing, window shopping, and well, just the perfect place to spend a PDX day.
As we wandered from gallery to gallery, I noticed a definite trend among the current exhibitions– a leaning toward the exploration of the scientific– whether cancer research, technology or psychology, there seemed to be a common thread of art interwined with science running through almost all the gallery shows we saw.
I found the current exhibition at Augen Gallery, Art for Oncologists by Jim Riswold to be incredibly poignant in its honesty and simplicity. The artist has been battling a 13 year fight against leukemia and prostate cancer, but this body of work isn’t just about his own battle. It’s a show of recognition, of thanks, to the crusaders and tireless discoverers of new and better ways to combat this unrelenting enemy. A larger than life candy dish takes center stage, filled with heart shaped sculptures inscribed with the names of chemotherapy drugs. Cancer-fighting is not for the weak of heart or spirit. It takes dogged determination, not to mention learning the names, functions, and side-effects of numerous unpronounceable medications. At some point in each of their lives, cancer touched every one of my grandparents. I know the kind of strength it takes to fight.
Speaking of poignant, we discovered a new gallery on this trip, J. Pepin Art Gallery, a space dedicated to the work of “contemporary artists who are reframing the perception of mental illness.” As I went through the gallery, reading the words of each artist, the story of their struggles and triumphs, it struck me how very powerful art as therapy can be. How we are able to express emotions and situations through visualization in ways that words can never capture.
We “lightened up” a bit when we hit Froelick Gallery and Michael Schultheis’ Universal Couplings of Archimedes.Can I just say how much I love Portland? Where else might you see an exhibition dedicated to an ancient Greek mathematician? PDX doesn’t just celebrate its geekiness, it downright revels in it and I love the city for that.
Our final stop was Butters Gallery, which come to think of it was our final gallery stop the last time we explored The Pearl District, not sure how that keeps happening, but it is always a lovely way to end the afternoon.
The current exhibition at Butters, Proclivities, features the mystical work of Marlana Stoddard-Hayes. In this new series of paintings, the artist moves through the grieving process following the death of her mother by working through the physicality of the creation, application and transference of elements onto the canvas, Stoddard-Hayes was able to liberate herself from the bonds of bereavement. Though created during a time of grief, the paintings retain a sense of wonder and hopefulness. A fitting tribute to a mother’s life.
These galleries, each so different in their approach, offered up stimulating and passionate work, one of the most satisfying afternoons of art-gawking I’ve enjoyed in a long while. The next time you’re in Portland, do yourself a favor and schedule an afternoon in The Pearl District. You won’t be sorry!
Peterson, Schultheis, and Stoddard-Hayes images are via their galleries’ websites, linked above. All other images are by Artsy Forager.
When we go out hiking, Mr. Forager is, with the exception of gorging on huckleberries and the like, strictly a leave-it-as-you-found-it hiker. I am too, for the most part, although I sometimes find myself so very tempted by that perfectly shaped leaf or beautiful wildflower. A stone does occasionally find its way into my pocket, but with our traveling, my hoarding of rocks is limited. Last week, I came across the work of Marilla Palmer, whose delicate constructions examine the intricacies of the forest and man’s hand upon it.
The artist tenderly renders wispy branches, then adds in embroidery, sequins, glitter, and such. The resulting compositions have the feeling of modern botanical renderings, a celebration ( or perhaps condemnation? ) of the coming together of man and nature.
If you’d like to see more of Marilla Palmer‘s work ( be sure to check out some of her sculptural pieces! ), please visit her website.
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