A lesson in lines

Take a look at these awesome drawings by students in Noelle Fournier's Grades 2-3 class at the Danforth Museum School, inspired by my paintings that are currently on exhibit at the school gallery. They really GOT it! Many thanks to Jill Curtis, who took these photos and sent them to me.

The show remains on view for one more week; more information available at:

Recent Paintings by Catherine Carter and Robert Collins

Creative spirit on display

"Dear Jeff" by Virginia Fitzgerald

Today I had the pleasure of taking two of my Framingham State University classes to visit the Fountain Street Fine Art Gallery, located a few miles from the campus. I do this every semester, and it is always a pleasure to introduce my students to this wonderful resource, which features area artists. A trip like this gives my young students, who will soon graduate and embark on life's journey, a sense of the need to seek and appreciate creative expression.

The exhibit we had the good fortune to catch this time was "Breaking Open," a two-person show of two- and three-dimensional works by Virginia Fitzgerald and Anne Gilson. As co-gallerist and photographer Marie Craig gave us a tour of the exhibit, she asked the students to select particular pieces for her to talk about. It was evident from the immediate raising of hands when Marie invited this input that the students were enthusiastic and curious about ALL of the works on display. Virginia's sculpture "Dear Jeff" (pictured left, which was commissioned by a man who lost his fiancee in the events of 9/11) seemed to be the one that elicited the most interest. Most of my students were at the impressionable age of 12 during the event that inspired the work, and you could see the tragedy's lingering impact on their faces when they heard that date mentioned in Marie's description.

The most impressive takeaway from our visit, and the one which I think will provide an ongoing memory for the class, is Virginia's creative approach to LIFE. It was apparent from this exhibit that every day is an adventure to her. New artistic ideas are always flashing through her mind, new expressive possibilities are always suggesting themselves to her, and she is always seeking new methods and materials to communicate her ideas and visions. Her open-mindedness and free spirit are inspiring, especially to these college students whose lives at this stage are increasingly suffocated by deadlines, requirements, and responsibilities. It's important to remind them that one of the reasons we are here (The Reason, in my book) is the need to savor the sensuous, impractical events in our lives, and our field trip experience today provided that example.

Many thanks to Marie Craig, who welcomed us so warmly; to Cherie Clinton, who invited us into her studio and gave us a first-hand glimpse of the creative process; and to Virginia Fitzgerald and Anne Gilson, who shared their artwork with us.

Framingham State students view "Breaking Open" (photo by Marie Craig)

A complete selection of images from the show can be seen HERE.

Final weeks of summer

Hard to believe that summer is winding down! Last I remember, May was rolling into June and the hot summer sun was just beginning to shine.

Part of the reason for the seeming speed of this summer for me is that ALL 7 of the classes I offered have run! It's kept me humming, that's for sure. In addition, my 13-year-old car died suddenly in early July, and even though I knew exactly what I wanted to replace it with (a new version of the same thing), it took much time and effort to price cars, test drive, and ultimately close the sale. (Online price quotes are THE way to go, folks. You have so much more control over the negotiation process than when you're standing in the showroom.)

Last week wrapped up one of my professional development classes, offered at the Danforth Museum School in Framingham, MA, for public school art teachers. The course, titled "Inspired by Women Artists," focused on the artwork of 4 female artists: Kathe Kollwitz, Miriam Schapiro, Alma Thomas, and Kara Walker. We studied their biographies, practiced their techniques, and created works inspired by their styles, in a variety of media from acrylic paint to charcoal drawing to fabric collage to silhouettes cut from black paper. The students seem to have been indeed inspired, and now have many new ideas and projects to take back to their art classrooms in the fall.

I hung a group of their paintings (inspired by Alma Thomas) in the school hallway:

Student artworks from my "Inspired by Women Artists" class

I did have a moment's break to take an art-related road trip last weekend, when my old and dear friend John Borowicz opened his solo show at the Dedee Shattuck Gallery in Westport, MA. It was wonderful to have the chance to see what John as been up to lately, plus the exhibit included a selection of past works from over the years to give those who don't know him as well a chance to see how he's arrived at this point.

It was such a pleasure to chat with John and his family (hi, Wen!), and to reconnect with so many good people from the Southcoast Massachusetts area that I haven't seen in a while. There is a warm and welcoming art community there, one that I've very much missed being a part of since we moved to the Metrowest area 10 years ago.

With John Borowicz in front of "Gabrielle d'Estrees and One of Her Sisters," 2013, oil on canvas, 60" square

Some fun things on the horizon for fall: a three-person show at the Mazmanian Gallery at Framingham State University, a curatorial proposal for a four-person show that I have high hopes for, and as usual, lots of hours of teaching. There's no evidence yet of an autumn nip in the air, but it will be here before we know it.

Spring into Summer

Summer is here, and that means my summer teaching schedule is about to kick in. Next week is the first class: a week-long, five-day Beginning Watercolor class at the Danforth Museum School in Framingham, MA. Throughout July and August, I will be teaching week-long courses is Beginning Drawing, Beginning Painting, Fashion Design for junior-high school students, and Fashion Design for high school students. Also, two courses for advanced students: Watercolor 2, and Inspired by Women Artists: Kathe Kollwitz, Miriam Schapiro, Alma Thomas, and Kara Walker.

My own work contains no representational imagery, but I love creating examples of the projects I assign in my classes. Below is an example I painted for the watercolor class, inspired by a photograph that my husband took in the garden outside the Wayside Inn in Sudbury, MA. Definitely captures that summery feeling!

New horizons

"Highway at Dusk" by Roy Perkinson

As a teacher, I am charged with expanding my students' horizons. I can do this not only through the lessons we cover in the classroom, but also by connecting the students to other professionals in my field who can bring a different voice to the same subject matter I've been covering all semester.

This morning, my students from Framingham State University had the good fortune to meet Roy Perkinson, a painter who works from his studio at the Bancroft Building in Framingham, Massachusetts. Roy allowed us to visit his working space, so we could get a direct glimpse of his creative environment. He also gave us an informative tour of "Sight Lines," the three-person show he has curated at Fountain Street Fine Art, a spacious art gallery also located in the Bancroft Building. Roy's own paintings of cityscapes, roadways and other landscape views are on display in this show, along with artworks by two of his long-time friends, Andrew Haines and Greg Heins, who are also inspired by landscape. Haines paints Boston and its environs from unexpected angles and vantage points, such as a distant street spied between two foreground skyscrapers, with ladder-like crosswalks zigzagging across the gap. Heins, meanwhile, photographs views of street scenes in and around Paris.

It was a joy for me to watch Roy interact with my students, who are just beginning to explore with paint, and hear him tell them about the various artistic decisions he made in each of his artworks. He explained how one painting in particular had been inspired by a rear-view mirror vision that shocked him with its intense color and light as he was driving along what had initially seemed like a barren stretch of road. We, his audience, smiled as he described the experience of having to pull off the road and photograph the scene, knowing that some day, a painting (or two) would result. ("Highway at Dusk" is shown above.)

The visit with Roy was a treat for my class and for me. The artist ended our tour with a reminder that we are always discovering who we are, no matter what our age or stage in life, and to remember to enjoy that process of discovery as it unfolds.

If you are near Framingham and have a chance to visit Fountain Street Fine Art and see Roy and his colleagues' marvelous show, I highly recommend a visit! Even better: the three artists will present a public talk on Sunday, April 14, from 2 to 3 PM. The exhibit is on view until April 21.

More on our visit on the gallery's Facebook page, here.

I chat with Roy about the show, while several of my students take notes on their written assignment as part of our visit.
Photo by Marie Craig, gallery co-director, Fountain Street Fine Art.

Identity

As you know if you read my blog with any regularity, I am currently in my 49th year, and the anticipation of turning 50 in 11 months is causing me to do a lot of soul-searching.

It interests me to recollect that while my identity today and for the last 17 years has been totally involved in my art, this was not so for a long time during my life. When I was growing up, I loved to draw. But somewhere along the line, I lost my identity as an artist. I took art classes here and there throughout my 20s, but life's responsibilities (particularly financial ones) pushed my creativity to the fringes of my existence, where it languished.

Things got particularly bleak by 1991, when I was 29. I was working full time as a secretary and hadn't done any drawing in years. I had totally lost myself and felt confused and depressed. Then one morning in 1993, the sun came up, the light shone on my path, and suddenly everything made sense. One step at a time, I strode toward my destiny as an artist. I earned a bachelor's degree, I earned a master's degree, I set up a studio and an art-making schedule, and I began to show and sell my work. It was like that gap between being a little girl and playing with my art supplies every day, and being a professional artist working in my studio, had never happened.

But it did happen, and in a way, I'm glad. It was painful to feel so lost for so long, but that fallow period made me more compassionate toward my students, especially my female students. I teach young women in high school or college who know deep down that they want to become artists, but they are afraid to commit to such an unstable career and are tempted to follow their families' urgings to major in something they don't care as much about but that promises a solid living. I teach busy mothers who are frustrated that their art-making has had to take a back seat to family commitments (and often, full-time jobs in addition). And I teach retired women who look back with pride on their lives devoted to their families, communities, and workplaces, but who wonder how to find their inner artist selves which have been denied over the decades of giving to others.

I understand the soul-searching that all of these age groups are going through. But I know that if I can figure it out, so can they.

I've come across a number of portraits that my husband has taken of me over the years, which reveal how literally wrapped up in painting my life has been since I found myself in 1993.

Me at age 5 (taken by my Grandpa, the other portrait photographer in my life):




Me at age 35, finally an artist again after 30 years:




Me at age 42, 7 years later:




Me at age 49, 7 years later (taken last week):

It's not where you start, it's where you end up

I teach art to students of all ages and levels, and they often tell me, at least when I first start to work with them, “My painting stinks,” “I don’t have any talent,” “I’m not creative,” etc. (Yes, even graduate students tell me this.) Whenever I hear this, I threaten to bring my first-ever painting in to class to show them that it isn’t “talent” that’s important, but how you apply yourself to your development as an artist. NO ONE sits down and makes a beautiful painting.

As Twyla Tharp points out in her wonderful book “The Creative Habit,” even Mozart, who had the unique good fortune of hereditary natural ability and early opportunities to compose and perform, didn’t just sit down and write breath-taking music. A major part of what made him a genius was the hours, days, years of constant practicing, listening, comprehending, and allowing himself to create. Tharp says that, by his early 20s, Mozart’s hands were already deformed from having logged in countless hours of playing the keyboard.

So here it is … the first painting I ever made. (It’s in oil.)

It was made during my first semester of painting at the Art Institute of Boston in 1987, an experience that sounds similar to the kind of beginning in art that many of my students describe as having before they get to my class. That is, with 1 or 2 exceptions, the professors gave NO technical information whatsoever, just left me and my classmates on our own to try and figure out how to use the materials and make the image look three-dimensional.

It’s interesting to me, in looking at this painting, to note that the objects are huddled against the background, as if they are terrified. Because that is certainly the way I felt at the time! (The saying goes that all works of art are self-portraits …)

This professor gave no demonstrations or personal advice, but after several sessions with each still-life, she would line all of our paintings up against the wall and tell us which ones were “bad” and which ones were “good.” I guess a general critique of this sort might have been visual training in what worked and what didn’t, but I just remember being frightened and confused the whole time. (I was too young to be indignant that she was being paid for not doing her job!)

I see from this picture that I had some natural inclination of how to suggest value, render objects and use negative space. But I certainly had no idea how to mix colors, record details, or place my objects so as to tell a story. (All things which are relatively easy to learn, with decent instruction.) I didn’t even know how to tell if I was finished or not! Basically, I was lost.

Luckily my love for painting helped me determine to continue beyond this abysmal initial experience. Many students get stuck at this stage and abandon art altogether because they think they aren’t good at it. That isn’t the point: without instruction and practice, one can’t learn how to see and how to use the materials.

Lack of “talent” in drawing or painting is really just lack of experience. Anyone can learn to draw and paint by applying themselves to the task and persistently working at it. This painting, as a harbinger of my current artwork, is proof!

And once you learn the basics, then the real achievement can begin. You can play around with a range of styles and mediums, and finally learn to say what you and you alone can and want to say. What could be more rewarding and enjoyable?

As I teacher, I've been learning

Teaching art is interesting, in that you learn as much as (probably more than) you teach. There is a remarkable interplay between what you assign your students in the classroom and what you are doing in your own studio.

In my watercolor class this morning, the assignment was to paint four copies of Edward Weston's photograph of a"Pepper" -- one in a light value color, one in a dark value color, one using warm colors, and one using cool colors.

Since I didn't have an example to show the students of how to paint the warm color version, I decided to make one while they were working on the one-color interpretations. So I made this painting:



I thought it was interesting to realize that I had such ease in painting this example because I've been working with warm colors in my own paintings lately (latest work, shown below). Even though the subject matter and styles are different between the assignment and my latest series, the colors are the same, and the methods of creating three-dimensional illusions are the same!!

Profile on Danforth Museum School

Here's a recent profile on the wonderful Danforth Museum School, where I have had the good fortune to teach (to teens, adults, and art teachers) for the past 7 years:

Student works

From now on, I will be posting examples of my students' works on my Teaching Blog, rather than this Art Blog.

To view works by students in my Fall 2010 Professional Development Watercolor 2 class, please click here.

Tribute to my favorite teacher

It was such a downer for me to remember that awful professor (well, non-professor) I had at the Art Institute of Boston, that I’ve decided to write now about one of the best art teachers I ever had.

I took 2 drawing courses at the Art Institute with Judith Brassard Brown, and it was she who really taught me to draw. Actually, what she taught me was that drawing means LOOKING.

She taught me to use the drawing tool to explore every inch of the entire form. Under her tutelage, I came to understand and develop a dynamic connection between observing with my eye, translating with my brain, and connecting to my hand.

It was that style of moving the drawing tool around the form that inspired the curving lines I use in my paintings today. I don’t consider them to be just a bunch of flippy marks, but rather lines that move through space in a sensory way. I am able to translate this sensation so naturally because of my training with Judy.

Judy brought warmth and fun to her classroom. I always felt like she was glad to have her students there and excited about sharing her knowledge with us. The experience of studying with her was a combination of joy and dedication, something I strive to convey in my own classroom today.

She currently teaches at Montserrat College of Art in Beverly, Massachusetts. I hope her current students know how lucky they are to have her, and that they avail themselves of all she has to teach them, both technically and spiritually. The learning experience doesn’t get any better than this!

Weird trip down memory lane

A strange experience today. I took one of my college classes on a field trip to a local art museum, and one of the artists whose work was on exhibit was a professor I had years ago. I saw his name on the wall, and the odd experience I had in his class came back to me in a flood.

I was a freshman in art school when I took this professor’s beginning drawing class. He attended our class a total of 3 times. For every other class meeting, he sent his secretary to the classroom to take attendance and give us students a drawing assignment, which she delivered verbally (no references, no examples, no directions, nothing). We were told that he was sorry, but he was working very hard on his book and was unable to attend our class. Sometimes the reason given for his absence was that he was traveling and out of town. I believe once we were told he wasn’t feeling well that day.

I am shocked when I think back on the memory, that this cretin thought it was acceptable to pull this sort of stunt not once but almost all of the days in the semester. I am also shocked that he was able to get away with it. He was the Chair of the Foundation Department, so who knows what effect his position had on what he was able to conceal from the school administration.

I am further shocked that neither I nor any of my classmates filed a formal complaint against him. I remember feeling indignant that he assigned us final grades when he obviously had no idea who we were (I received a B+), although I still never spoke up about the situation. Ah, youth.

I feel helpless and angry at this memory. I guess the only pro-active thing I can do is to promise myself that I will never forget what an honor it is to be a teacher, and continue to try to do the best possible job I can for my students. I like to hope there is some ultimate justice for those who treat their students, their colleagues, the school that employs them, and the world of art with such contempt.

Watercolor students' work

I taught another beginner watercolor course this past week at the Danforth Museum School in Framingham, MA, which was my final course of the summer! Now I have a bit of time to reflect on life in general. I've been painting painting painting and teaching teaching teaching ... with no breaks, since January, really. I think a little time to stare out the window is in order! My next class doesn't start until September 2, so thankfully, I have that time.

Here are some of the wonderful works created by my students in last week's course. They are all public-school teachers as well as artists:

This painting is by Amy Ubele Brown, who teaches in Framingham:




This painting is by Megan Slesinger, who teaches in Wellesley, MA:




This painting is by Hannah Close, who teaches in Kingston, MA:




This painting is by Ellen Taylor, who teaches in Framingham, MA:




This painting is by Erin Jameson Yates, who teaches in Hudson, MA:

Works by Mixed Media students

Here is a sampling of the wonderful works created by students in my professional development Mixed Media course at the Danforth Museum of Art last week.


By Sophie Rosenberg (below):




By Anne Sargent Walker (below):




By Julie Hom-Mandell (detail, below):




By Emily Ortmann (below):




By Meghan Drew (below):




By Susan Baxter-Joyce (below):




By Kate Jones (below):

Student works from Art of Botanicals class

Here's a selection of the many lovely works created by my students during the Art of Botanicals, a professional development class for art teachers, that just wrapped up today at the Danforth Museum School in Framingham, MA. For information on upcoming classes, please visit the school's website here.

Please note that some of the students have a website, so click on their name if you'd like to know more about them:

Colby Caravaggio's art, below:



Leigh Faramarzpour's art, below:



Jennifer McCarthy's art, below:




Anne Sargent Walker's art, below:

Artworks by Mixed Media students

Here are some of the wonderful artworks created by students in my professional development "Mixed Media" class at the Danforth Museum School. Our last class meeting was today; it's been a productive and pleasant semester!


Maribeth Amber:




Colby Caravaggio:




Lisa Erdekian:




Alexandra Etscovitz:




Lisa Feldman:




Jane Hogan:




Jennifer McCarthy:




Erin Cotton Straight (detail):

End-of-year reflections

This is the time of year when we look back on the past 365 days. If you have the time and inclination, you carefully analyze what worked and what didn’t, and make your plans for the upcoming year accordingly. If you’re a super-busy person, you simply try to figure out what the heck just happened.

I had many career successes in 2009. I sold 13 paintings, and I participated in 4 group shows: 2 were in college galleries; 1 was alongside such talents as Michael Mazur and Piek Larsen; and the fourth, which included such luminaries as Agnes Martin and Richard Serra, was reviewed in a Boston Globe article that included a mention of my work. I am thankful for having had so many opportunities.

I taught my heart out this year: 3 college classes, 3 workshops, 4 teen classes, 3 professional development classes, 6 adult education classes, and private lessons. I consider it a privilege to be a teacher, and to have the opportunity to help my students to develop their technique (beginners) or to find their own voices (graduate students). After all these years of teaching, I still feel honored to look up and see my students working contentedly at their easels.

Four of my reviews were published in the New Bedford Standard-Times during 2009. I have had to let my writing career slide lately, because I’ve simply been too busy to devote the time. But I adore writing about art. I believe it is a chance to honor the artists I write about, give them much-deserved attention and excite my readers about their work, as I am excited.

But what I am most proud of about 2009 is what I did in my studio, my Heaven on Earth. The things I learned, visually and technically, and the inner vibrations that I expressed through my painting … these are things I can’t articulate verbally. While the tangible results of the time I put in appear on my website, the finished paintings can’t quite convey the joy I feel inside at having created them. There aren’t words to express the realization that you wanted to say something, and you picked up a brush, and you managed to say it. It’s a true blessing to have this opportunity.

However you choose to look back on 2009, with a fleeting glance or with careful consideration, I wish you a wonderful and very happy 2010!

Real artists don't wear suits

I made this shoe drawing during my fashion illustration class last night. I now have 6 of these. I figure I'll make about 20 and then consider possible exhibition venues for them. A very different "kettle of fish" from my usual line-oriented paintings, but I think they have potential for an interesting exhibit and eventually a happy home.

These images, and the fact that they are illustrations and not "fine art," remind me of a bizarre but informative experience I had when I first decided I wanted to teach, soon after graduate school (1998). I heard that a painting professor at the local community college was taking maternity leave and the school was hiring a replacement for one painting class. Figuring that this would be a good opportunity for a beginning artist with a fresh M.F.A., I sent in my application.

I received a call from the department chair, who sounded very impressed with my application, and set up an interview. He smiled as I entered his office, but the moment he looked at me when I extended my hand to shake, he got this weird, disgusted look on his face. For the entire interview, he seemed very uncomfortable, like he couldn't wait for me to get out of his office.

I typically handle interviews with great confidence (for some reason, I really enjoy them!), but this one shook me. I felt very strange about the experience, as I was driving home afterwards. I knew there was something about my appearance that had freaked this guy out, but I couldn't imagine what it was. I had purchased a new orange sweater and a matching brown blazer and trousers with orange pinstripes at Macy's, in preparation for my interview, so I figured I looked good -- professional, but with a twist.

When the department chair notified me soon afterward that I had not been hired, I wasn't surprised, but I was still confused as to what was wrong about my looks. Several weeks later, by coincidence, I met a woman who worked as a graphic design professor at this particular college, at a social gathering. I told her about my experience and said I couldn't understand what had gone wrong.

She said she had heard about my interview, and that it had indeed been MY SUIT that had turned off the department chair and cost me the job. Apparently he had been prepared to hire me based on my resume and work samples, but then decided when he saw me that I didn't look like a "real artist" in a suit.

I wasn't clear on what had been wrong with my lovely (and expensive) suit, but I decided that perhaps an artist is "supposed" to wear all black or paint-smeared clothing (like what I had hanging in my studio, but had considered too casual for an interview).

I phoned my mother and lamented that I shouldn't have worn a suit, that maybe I was too dressy and "fashion-y" to be a real artist. But my wise mother replied, "Never hide who you are! Be yourself!"

Assessing the summer, looking ahead

I just finished a wonderful week of teaching a watercolor course to art teachers. It was a fun group and I think that they learned a lot. They certainly accomplished a lot of beautiful work. Here are three of my favorite projects (among many) that the students created.

The first piece is by Shari Fox, who teaches in Shrewsbury, MA:



The next piece is by Sarah Steinberg, who teaches in Wellesley, MA:



And this piece is by Kristin Clark, who teaches in Marlboro, MA:



That was my last teaching week of the summer. Whew, it has been A LOT of work! I taught my last spring semester class on June 27, and then on June 29, I started teaching a five-week watercolor intensive at Framingham State College. As soon as that was over, I taught a week-long fashion illustration course and a week-long pastel drawing course to high-school students, and finally, this past week, the graduate-level watercolor course, all at the Danforth Museum School. As hard as I worked, I loved every minute of it.

My next college class begins on September 2, so not much time to regroup. BUT with all the busy-ness of last week, a thought hit me through the din: I will be 50 years old in three years. That, obviously, is a milestone!

What do I want to have accomplished by age 50? What are my goals for my 50th birthday, that I can start to work on now?

Like almost every other woman in the western world, I would like to lose 30 pounds. And it would definitely be a good idea to have a goal of how much money I'd like to have saved by then.

But I want to come up with some goals as an exhibiting artist that I can aim for, to have reached at the half-century mark. I've had a lot of luck lately with selling my work, but what about artistic goals? I'll keep working on this idea over the next week ...