Six gallery artists adjust their practices.
You’re invited to take a look at some works in-progress and their new ways of life.
Stephen Westfall John Walker Tom Uttech Lois Dodd Brett Bigbee Pat Adams
Six gallery artists adjust their practices.
You’re invited to take a look at some works in-progress and their new ways of life.
Stephen Westfall John Walker Tom Uttech Lois Dodd Brett Bigbee Pat Adams
Stephen Westfall writes: I’m upstate at a friend’s house stockpiling the larder, cooking, dealing with far flung family members, learning Zoom, and taking socially distancing walks like everyone else. Fortunately, we have a great view of the Catskills, the cradle of the American painterly imagination. So even as an abstract painter I feel I’m in a good place. Planning to bring supplies up from my Brooklyn studio when the weather warms. It’s a transition, but I have seven watercolor blocks of different sizes and am commencing to add to the work on paper that the gallery will eventually have.
Stephen is on sabbatical this term from the Mason Gross School of the Arts at Rutgers. Earlier this year his painting Solid Gone was acquired by the Santa Barbara Museum of Art through an Art Purchase Award from the American Academy of Arts and Letters. Congratulations, Stephen!
But the many variations suggest that Westfall is responding to a wide range of imagery, information, art historical awareness, and, of course, personal impulses. Such associations are not a matter of appropriation but rather, of working within a greatly expanded contemporary visual and semiotic frame of reference. If one of his goals is immediacy of impact, another is a subsequent richness of contemplative experience that motivated spiritualists such as Mondrian and Malevich, and the creators of Eastern mandalas. The work moves between a meditative orientation and everyday, vernacular readings. Westfall’s paintings, while rigorous in visual concept and exacting execution, are idiosyncratically allusive and expressive. His execution of new work within a field of apparent contradictions is a masterful balancing act.
Robert Berlind, 2013
John now maintains his primary studio in an old Freemason hall near the water in MidCoast Maine – where the “Bingo Card” paintings began. The rural setting, already quite isolated, allows John to safely continue the short commute between home and studio each day. This past winter John enjoyed a homecoming celebration with an exhibition at the Ikon Gallery in his hometown of Birmingham, England. Also earlier this year, the Phillips Collection in Washington, DC, which has long collected and exhibited John’s work, acquired a recent major painting through the generosity of Cleveland collectors.
From his meditations on Matisse, Walker brought a summery light, cooler, and harder than Matisse’s Mediterranean light, into his own new pictures. For form he used the wave, blue and white rhythmic bands, as old as any form in western art, and landscape forms, islands, rocks, and the blunt finger of Seal Point became shield-like. At the horizon line a thickly painted island often appears. The paint is raw, viridian, and lavish, a celebration of seeing. It fits Walker’s maxim to himself: “Stop trying to make the paint look like something it isn’t. Goya, Chardin, Vermeer…you know you’re looking at paint. You need the ability to pick up this colored mud and turn it into air.
William Corbett, 2015
Tom, Mary and their college-aged son are home, north of Milwaukee. Their property includes over 30 acres of native tall-grass prairie, which Tom restores, cultivates, seeds, mows and burns. A great bird-watching environment. He is planning his summer garden, going on walks, and spending time in the studio. His beloved “migration” paintings, examples of which are in major American museums including Crystal Bridges, New Orleans and the Smithsonian, are giving way to a new motif – “reflection” paintings. Two major “reflection” paintings were included in our most recent gallery show, and we look forward to the new ones, two of which are in-progress now. “Symmetry is life, it’s reality. That is magic. Painting, hopefully can do that too.”
“There is a lot of symmetry in life, of one kind or another. One of the neatest things about nature is that it is totally chaotic at all times, while it is simultaneously totally organized. And a lot of that organization has to do with symmetry. Symmetry is life; it’s reality. That is magic. Painting, hopefully, can do that too.
The symmetry of the reflections is a different story. In the far north, twilight lasts a long time. If you paddle at just the right pace on a calm day, you will see in the water a perfect reflection of the real world. This upside-down world exists just like the “real” world, although it’s not actually there. It becomes like a ghost; it seems to complete reality.
If the water is clear, it further complicates and completes the meaning of life. The things we see under the water — fallen trees, submerged plants and fish and such — are real, but they exist in a realm where we humans are denied entrance. So there is a combination of real, unreal, and also unavailable. That is mind altering. I want to generate that in my painting — not describe its appearance. So far I am not totally satisfied with my efforts.”
Adapted from interview with Jennifer Samet for Beer with a Painter, 2017
Lois Dodd is well, happy and enjoying her usual routine in New York. On April 22nd Lois celebrated her 93rd birthday with a Zoom party organized by her two granddaughters. Her first experience video conferencing. She no longer goes out, except to her roof for light and air. The view from her third floor windows look over the old Marble Cemetery, which feels like an open field between her house and the Bowery Hotel. A familiar subject for Lois over these past fifty years, even before our current confinement indoors.
These paintings record place, but they also record the act of translating place into paint- the artist’s intervention. Her distinct and fluid brush strokes seem casual at first, but they are precisely and elegantly laid down.
Seeing through to things has been an enduring theme in her painting: what windows frame, how they shape, limit, focus, reflect or do not reflect, depending on whether they retain their glass panes, how they reject or welcome, distort, how they imply choice-to look or not to look. These windows, then, frame Dodd’s views, actual and metaphorical.
Deborah Weisgall, 2003
For almost thirty years Brett Bigbee has been known for his unique magic precisionist realism that shared qualities with both European Renaissance masters and American folk art. About two years ago he broke from these styles and moved in a direction of intimate surrealist portrayals of his own emotional landscape. The external became internal. We presented a small exhibition of these new paintings that was well received. We look forward to another, larger show, that will include Brett’s exquisite and highly detailed drawings.
In the past, my paintings took years to complete. I sought to create works that required exactitude and adhered to the disciplines devised by artists throughout history. These works are contemplative and bring great meaning to me.
However, my life did not follow a predictable path, and my new paintings started to reflect my internal and external conflicts. As a result, where I once almost froze each moment in silence, I began to reveal the forces that shape us all. So here in these first paintings I explore a path toward freedom as a visual storyteller.
Brett Bigbee, 2018
The gallery had planned to present its first exhibition of Pat Adams’s work this spring – paintings and works on paper from the 1970s and 80s, which we plan to re-present in our physical space next season. In the meantime, follow this link to view Pat’s work in our Virtual Viewing Room. Pat is safe in her longtime home in Vermont, where she taught for years at Bennington College. She is now working small-scale, making collages and enjoying re-visiting old sketchbooks and ideas. She’s taking a break from going out to her primary studio in an old barn, and now working on an ironing board in the kitchen.
One of the most startling things about Ms. Adams’s works is that their flat surfaces, as active, various and sometimes seemingly chaotic as they are, still maintain clockwork precision and clarity. It’s as if we were seeing the stages of growth or the steps of transformation, each accompanied by its gaseous residue or shed skin.
Lance Esplund, 2005