After what seemed like forever, the past summer was, for many of us, a slow reentry into the world outside our homes. For me, nothing epitomized that more than looking at art “in the raw” so to speak. On walls, in galleries, in parks, non-pixelated! Carefully I ventured into once familiar venues to gratefully experience the full force of unadulterated color, texture and presence of wonderful things, intriguing things, beautiful things. Here’s my summer highlights.
First up, I trekked out to Mass MoCA. As I’ve written in the past, MoCA is sanctuary of sorts to me. It opens my mind to possibilities and different ways of thinking visually. This visit certainly did that, especially the “Into the Light” experience by James Turrell. Walking literally into a room of immersive, ever-changing color is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. All sense of ground and perspective goes away and, if you let it, the light/color takes you places that are sensually overwhelming. It was like leaping into space, and a fitting reentry into the art world.
Next up was closer to home. As part of DATMA’s (Design, Art, Technology in MA) 2021 Water exhibit, the Swiss sound artist, Zimoun brought a wall of sound to the party. Created from corrugate boxes and motorized cotton balls, the installation presented an interpretation that surrounded you with mesmerizing sensations.
Around the corner from the DATMA installation, the New Bedford Whaling Museum presented a small, but compelling exhibit of a very influential American artist, Albert Pinkham Ryder. A painter mostly unknown to the general public, “Pinky” Ryder was well before his time in expressionist vision. He was able to distill form and color into the basics, saying just what he had to say, visually, in well-placed, raw marks and strokes.
By now, I realized I was perhaps subconsciously easing back into looking at art slowly and carefully, weaning myself off the faux-images I had been looking at on screen for the past 2 years. Looking at pure sensation of light, color and then sound, I felt like I was taking baby steps back into an old reality. I was ready now to take a bigger leap into the big-time. I was headed to the Museum of Fine Arts.
Ekua Holmes, Precarious, 2017
I wrote in an earlier post about my re-immersive stroll through the Museum, slowly reacquainting myself with the familiar rooms and pieces. What I didn’t dwell on was a new discovery, Ekua Holmes. An artist of color from Boston’s Roxbury neighborhood, Holmes’ work was a vibrant multi-media avalanche of brightness, harmony and emotion. Most of the work centered on her children’s book illustrations and civil rights pieces, but I was especially struck by her family portraits.
Nikolai Astrup, detail from Growing Season Weather, 1918-21
Toward the end of the summer, returning from a pilgrimage to Cooperstown and the National Baseball Hall of Fame, I veered off to return to the Berkshires to see a rare US showing of Nikolai Astrup. I was extremely glad I did. A contemporary of one of my artistic heroes, Edvard Munch, Astrup was hitherto unknown to me, though very popular in his native land of Norway. His landscapes are humble representations of a quiet agricultural life in his family homestead with a particular passion for the details of the natural world he so loved. It felt to me personally, like a calling to pay special attention to what is right directly in your field of vision - and to be grateful for what you have, each and every day.
All in all, a full summer, especially if you include the many local shows I took in. Now it’s time to get back into the studio and put brush to panel.
Pax Vobiscum.