The Fall has always had a bittersweet vibe for me. It is far and away my favorite season - comfortable air, beautiful light and slower pace, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to dreading the shorter days and impending hibernation of winter. It’s a trade-off that I warily look forward to each September. This year, of course, includes the specter of lingering grief into the mix, but I’m trying to (in the parlance of our times) “lean in” to the former and add to the light and color of the season the sentimentality of sweet memories of the past, enduring and comforting artwork and hopeful eyes to a new chapter in my artistic endeavors.
A sampling of paintings available at www.randyswann.com
The Clearing
I need to clear out some pictures.
When I closed Intramural Studio a couple of years ago, I never intended to stop making art. Rather, I sensed an approaching pivot in my path - one that offered new opportunities, a changed outlook and possibly new venues. My art-making between then and fairly recently, has been a series of untethered play - a free for all of making things with previously undiscovered materials and mediums, looking into closets not yet cleaned out and trying new things. And that’s been a good thing. Something that quietly gave me hope and assurance that there were still stories to be told.
I’m cautious to say that my play/patience feels like it is paying off, and over the past month has yielded a more purposeful painting which is exploring untrodden pathways and possibilities.
Everything is coming together, but as a result of that pivot, I need to jettison some of my Intramural artwork to make room for the new. If you’re interested in purchasing any of this work, contact me at rannswann@gmail.com. Thank you for your patronage.
The Pathway into the Wood
The forest has always been a special place to me. As a boy in a small rural town, it was a sanctuary and a place of seclusion. A space even more private than the room I shared with my brother. In grade school it was a place of tree-forts. In high school, a hideaway for sneaking cigarettes and purloined cans of PBR. In other words, it was a playground. So, it shouldn’t be any surprise that during my summer of “art play,” I found myself drawn to the woods, making solitary hikes amongst the many trails in my town, following threads that led to places unknown to me.
And those threads are beginning to weave together and lead to other threads and soon I think (hope) they will coalesce into a tapestry - a new story. One in which trees take a central role. For an artist who’s spent the good part of 25 years telling a more urban story, this comes as a surprise. But I’ve learned not to ignore the warp and weft and let the fabric tell it’s own story.
More to come.
Botticelli
Detail of Virgin & Child with Saint John the Baptist - Sandro Botticelli, 1490
Goddam Botticelli will make you weep. He always does.
Each time I travel out to the western part of Massachusetts and go to The Clark, I check out whatever visiting exhibition has lured me there, and no matter how amazing that particular show is, when I stroll into the older part of the building where the permanent collection is, and turn the corner to gaze upon Sandro Botticelli’s Virgin & Child tondo, everything else pales by comparison.
There are so many elements to this masterpiece that wow me, it’s impossible to describe. The composition is perfectly balanced. The expressions on the faces of the mother and child are sweet and so peaceful. The technique so intricate and masterful. And the light!
The light is holy. Whenever I feel lost, I need only to find my way to this gallery.
Virgin & Child with Saint John the Baptist - Sandro Botticelli, 1490
This Made Me Cry
Yayoi Kusama installation, SFMoma, 2023
