I left the studio at 2PM on Tuesday, February 21st. There was a layer of ice on everything. After stopping in Iowa City to view the exhibit, The Art of the Print, I continued the drive to Kansas City, arriving late in the evening. Wednesday morning was spent with Jack at American Legacy Gallery. After lunch and a second appointment, I made the drive to Cottonwood Falls, KS. It was mild (60 degrees), and I worked on material for a possible etching project. I drove on through the Flint Hills to Manhattan. It was dusk, and there was sky all around me. This ain't Wisconsin. Before continuing north to Lincoln and Omaha on Thursday, I will deliver work to Strecker Nelson Gallery in Manhattan. Word has it that there will be weather after midnight.
Part 2: Thursday, I awoke to the sound of freezing rain on my Manhattan, Kansas motel room window. After delivering work to Strecker Nelson, I headed north to Lincoln, Nebraska. The temperature dropped and soon it was snowing hard on top of the ice. Driving was treacherous...so was Lincoln. Bags of water softener salt on my rear axle seemed unnecessary the day before in Kansas. Today, it kept me on the road. Buck, at Kiechel Fine Art in Lincoln, told me the best way to get out of town. The snow was blinding and covering the road and the street signs. Somehow, I made it. Omaha was 45 miles away...an eternity. On Friday, I woke to sunshine and the drive to Sioux City and the Sioux City Art Center. They are interested in my work. I stayed at Hugh Pettersen's place in Cedar Falls that night. I love the drive across Iowa. It must be a past life. On Saturday, I drove to Mason City and the reception at the MacNider Museum. They had hung my work beautifully in the Center Space Gallery. Presentation is so important. They are professionals. There was more snow, but people still showed up for the reception. The drive back to Wisconsin was beautiful and slippery.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
snow and wind
It snowed last night...about six inches. There is more snow coming along with high winds. By the time it is finished we could have just shy of two feet of snow. The morning news mentioned the possibility of ten foot snow drifts in open areas. Chicago said it could be the worst storm since '67. I cleared my driveway and knew that I should be doing the same at my studio in Blue Mounds. I drove to Garfield Street in Mount Horeb instead. I have had my eyes on that street for a few years now. In the winter there are contrasts that I like. I knew what it would look like today. I had not tried to capture it before. I have a small pocket sized sketchbook that I always have with me. I draw with a pen. Today is the day. The street was covered with snow. When it is like this, at the horizon the street disappears into the sky. I like this. I also like the way that the white, snow covered earth contrasts with just about everything, and the tops of the trees are like layers of veils. Making a sketch of this is a way for me to practice my craft, and it is also a way for me to put down onto paper an idea for a future etching. I draw quickly in a small pocket sized sketch book. A snowplow pulls up behind me and wants me to move. See you in Blue Mounds...maybe in one of those ten foot snowdrifts.
Monday, January 3, 2011
2010
2010 was an eventful year for me. There were travels...New York City twice, San Francisco once, Milwaukee, a few trips to Minneapolis (where my two sons also live), Cleveland/Akron, Chicago, Peoria and others. Each destination held its own adventure.
My etchings were included in seven exhibits in 2010. There are two exhibits that I want to mention:
The Miller Art Musuem in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin held a printmakers invitational group show (March 6-April 20), which included several printmakers with Wisconsin ties.
The Kenosha Public Museum (Kenosha is a city between Milwaukee and Chicago) currently has a show called "The Print Revolution in America" which opened on November 6, 2010. This impressive exhibit includes two of my etchings (one is a recent work and the other is from 1990) and continues at the museum until April 2011.
In November of 2009 I was commissioned by The Phipps Center for the Arts in Hudson, Wisconsin to do an etching for them. I usually don't accept commissions, but they gave me a good degree of flexibility as far as execution and subject. The etching is called "Deep river" and is a scene from Birkmose Park overlooking the St. Croix River on the Minnesota Wisconsin border. On visits to the twin cities (my former home and where another exhibit at Groveland Gallery was), I would drive over to Hudson and work on the etching on location.
My first trip to New York was in January. On that trip, I became affiliated with The Old Print Shop, which is a gallery on Lexington Avenue in Manhattan. I had been aware of it for a few years. The gallery has been in existence for over 100 years and represents contemporary printmakers as well as being a dealer for old, important American prints. Related to this affiliation, I was encouraged to apply for membership in S.A.G.A. which is the Society of American Graphic Artists. It is one of two professioinal art organizations that I am presently a member of.
On my second trip to New York in October, I had the opportunity to show a folder of my etchings to Madeleine Viljoen who is the print curator at the New York Public Library. I showed 15 small etchings. Five of the works were purchased for the library's distinguished print collection.
Lastly, one of my etchings, "Driftless", was chosen to be featured on the title page of the Dane County Cultural Affairs Commission's 2011 calendar, "Flora and Fauna". It is an annual publication containing works by Dane County artists and I am honored to have been included.
I continue to live by my wits. The trips are exciting, and I haven't told you about all of them. I visit the galleries that represent me and value the contact. I call people and show my artwork. Sometimes it leads somewhere, and other times it seems to lead nowhere. Sometimes I say and do the right things. Otherwise, I am capable of doing the converse. I am writing this at a garage in Milwaukee while my van is being worked on for the day. Soon, I will be driving a loaner car to a gallery that is interested in looking at my work. Another attempted appointment didn't work out. Somewhere in the midst of everything I work hard at being a creative artist. This is where my true passion lies. Even when I don't actually have a tool in my hand working on a metal plate, I am thinking about it, how things work, and what to do next. My life is never dull.
PS. I didn't mention Maquoketa, Iowa, Fred Easker, and the interesting studio that I was invited to visit. It is a place you should experience.
My etchings were included in seven exhibits in 2010. There are two exhibits that I want to mention:
The Miller Art Musuem in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin held a printmakers invitational group show (March 6-April 20), which included several printmakers with Wisconsin ties.
The Kenosha Public Museum (Kenosha is a city between Milwaukee and Chicago) currently has a show called "The Print Revolution in America" which opened on November 6, 2010. This impressive exhibit includes two of my etchings (one is a recent work and the other is from 1990) and continues at the museum until April 2011.
In November of 2009 I was commissioned by The Phipps Center for the Arts in Hudson, Wisconsin to do an etching for them. I usually don't accept commissions, but they gave me a good degree of flexibility as far as execution and subject. The etching is called "Deep river" and is a scene from Birkmose Park overlooking the St. Croix River on the Minnesota Wisconsin border. On visits to the twin cities (my former home and where another exhibit at Groveland Gallery was), I would drive over to Hudson and work on the etching on location.
My first trip to New York was in January. On that trip, I became affiliated with The Old Print Shop, which is a gallery on Lexington Avenue in Manhattan. I had been aware of it for a few years. The gallery has been in existence for over 100 years and represents contemporary printmakers as well as being a dealer for old, important American prints. Related to this affiliation, I was encouraged to apply for membership in S.A.G.A. which is the Society of American Graphic Artists. It is one of two professioinal art organizations that I am presently a member of.
On my second trip to New York in October, I had the opportunity to show a folder of my etchings to Madeleine Viljoen who is the print curator at the New York Public Library. I showed 15 small etchings. Five of the works were purchased for the library's distinguished print collection.
Lastly, one of my etchings, "Driftless", was chosen to be featured on the title page of the Dane County Cultural Affairs Commission's 2011 calendar, "Flora and Fauna". It is an annual publication containing works by Dane County artists and I am honored to have been included.
I continue to live by my wits. The trips are exciting, and I haven't told you about all of them. I visit the galleries that represent me and value the contact. I call people and show my artwork. Sometimes it leads somewhere, and other times it seems to lead nowhere. Sometimes I say and do the right things. Otherwise, I am capable of doing the converse. I am writing this at a garage in Milwaukee while my van is being worked on for the day. Soon, I will be driving a loaner car to a gallery that is interested in looking at my work. Another attempted appointment didn't work out. Somewhere in the midst of everything I work hard at being a creative artist. This is where my true passion lies. Even when I don't actually have a tool in my hand working on a metal plate, I am thinking about it, how things work, and what to do next. My life is never dull.
PS. I didn't mention Maquoketa, Iowa, Fred Easker, and the interesting studio that I was invited to visit. It is a place you should experience.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
San Francisco
I went to San Francisco last week. Pat, my wife, had meetings there, and I went along for the ride. I created my own meetings. We left Madison on Monday morning. Pat was driving to the airport, and she careened down Madison's streets wanting to get there on time. Careening is the expected way to drive in Madison. The heart of the city is on an isthmus. Because of this, there are no freeways going to the center of the city...just streets. If you are going to the capital, you drive on streets...same with the university. I like it. I had laundry left to fold and pack into my suitcase. As Pat drove, I crawled into the back of the minivan to fold shirts and pack them. She heard my grunts in the back. It was centripetal force that was doing a number on me. We got to the airport just in time. As we left home, at the last minute, I grabbed a book of short stories off my shelf...from my college days. On the plane, I drew the landscape below in my sketch book. It was fun and had the same effect as caffeinating me. I also read stories by Salinger, EM Forster and EB White. Coincidentally, they were all about despair and salvation. White's story (Doors) was mostly about despair. Rats, when trained, will approach a certain door to obtain food. When the door is changed, they don't get it and ultimately despair. Humans, on the other hand, will bump into the door, but then go to other doors. White once went to a door for a girl, he went through it repeatedly with wild abandon ("like any rat") until the door changed. His nose bled for a hundred hours. There is not salvation in White's story, but at the end the earth comes up to meet his feet so my guess is that he thinks it is up to us to save ourselves. Hmmm.
In San Francisco, I got together with Ross Halper and his lovely wife, Sachiko. Ross was a good friend in gradeschool. We read Tarzan novels together, watched Johnny Weissmuller on late night television (every Friday night), also read Tanar of Pelucidar, John Carter of Mars. Burroughs (Edgar Rice) could do no wrong. Ross and I went separate ways in high school. He became passionate about opera at a young age. My parents sent me to Norway to visit aging grandparents when I was 11. I asked Ross what I could bring back for him. He said he wanted a Jussi Bjorling recording. I remember sitting in the listening booth of an Oslo record store with my cousin Hellek listening to records of Jussi singing. It was a far cry from the Luxembourg popular music radio station that we listened to every day. Ross, Sachiko and I got together for dinner in San Francisco on Tuesday evening. He brought the record! He said he has it hanging on the wall in his living room. He works in opera by the way; it has been a lifelong passion. He moved to SF over thirty years ago, and sings tenor and directs.
Before this trip, I set up some appointments. I realized a few years ago that opportunities were not coming to me. I realized that I needed to knock on the doors (like any rat?). I called the Legion of Honor art museum and was able to meet with Karin Breuer on Wednesday morning. I also called Arion Press and was able to meet with Andrew Hoyem that afternoon. They were good meetings. Did anything come of them? No, but there is potential, and to me that is what it is about. Sitting on my hands (I never really sit) in Blue Mounds, Wisconsin has never accomplished anything for me. Karin Breuer, seeing one of the baseball etchings that was in my folder, suggested I visit an SF gallery that was having a baseball art exhibit. Late in the afternoon I visited the gallery. The owner agreed to look at my etching (I name dropped). He liked it and bought it. I had been to a famous bookstore on Columbus Avenue (near Kerouac Alley) and had my eye on a couple of books. The extra cash enabled me to buy them guilt free. The biography of Thelonius Monk is highly regarded, and I have been in awe of Duke Ellington for as long as I can remember so I bought the books.
Thursday, I went to a William Wiley retrospective (on Andrew Hoyem's recommendation). It was impressive work. It was in Berkeley at the art museum. As I walked through the campus (google maps had instructed me to take the path through the Eucalyptus grove)I approached and passed the campus center, I heard the crescendo and diminuendo of amplified student voices protesting immigration laws.
I also got together with my friend, Jim Colias, twice. That will be another loooonnnnggg entry, but is an interesting story. I hope I haven't bored anyone. We came back from San Francisco on Friday and were back at home in the evening.
In San Francisco, I got together with Ross Halper and his lovely wife, Sachiko. Ross was a good friend in gradeschool. We read Tarzan novels together, watched Johnny Weissmuller on late night television (every Friday night), also read Tanar of Pelucidar, John Carter of Mars. Burroughs (Edgar Rice) could do no wrong. Ross and I went separate ways in high school. He became passionate about opera at a young age. My parents sent me to Norway to visit aging grandparents when I was 11. I asked Ross what I could bring back for him. He said he wanted a Jussi Bjorling recording. I remember sitting in the listening booth of an Oslo record store with my cousin Hellek listening to records of Jussi singing. It was a far cry from the Luxembourg popular music radio station that we listened to every day. Ross, Sachiko and I got together for dinner in San Francisco on Tuesday evening. He brought the record! He said he has it hanging on the wall in his living room. He works in opera by the way; it has been a lifelong passion. He moved to SF over thirty years ago, and sings tenor and directs.
Before this trip, I set up some appointments. I realized a few years ago that opportunities were not coming to me. I realized that I needed to knock on the doors (like any rat?). I called the Legion of Honor art museum and was able to meet with Karin Breuer on Wednesday morning. I also called Arion Press and was able to meet with Andrew Hoyem that afternoon. They were good meetings. Did anything come of them? No, but there is potential, and to me that is what it is about. Sitting on my hands (I never really sit) in Blue Mounds, Wisconsin has never accomplished anything for me. Karin Breuer, seeing one of the baseball etchings that was in my folder, suggested I visit an SF gallery that was having a baseball art exhibit. Late in the afternoon I visited the gallery. The owner agreed to look at my etching (I name dropped). He liked it and bought it. I had been to a famous bookstore on Columbus Avenue (near Kerouac Alley) and had my eye on a couple of books. The extra cash enabled me to buy them guilt free. The biography of Thelonius Monk is highly regarded, and I have been in awe of Duke Ellington for as long as I can remember so I bought the books.
Thursday, I went to a William Wiley retrospective (on Andrew Hoyem's recommendation). It was impressive work. It was in Berkeley at the art museum. As I walked through the campus (google maps had instructed me to take the path through the Eucalyptus grove)I approached and passed the campus center, I heard the crescendo and diminuendo of amplified student voices protesting immigration laws.
I also got together with my friend, Jim Colias, twice. That will be another loooonnnnggg entry, but is an interesting story. I hope I haven't bored anyone. We came back from San Francisco on Friday and were back at home in the evening.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Maquoketa and Iowa's allure
Tuesday the 8th was one of those days. Fasting (no morning cup of coffee) because of lab work at the doctor's office, I ran off to vote followed by a visit to the bank, the grocery, and the necessary lab work. All was completed by 9AM. After a couple of errands in Madison, I was able to get to my studio by noon. In case you have any doubt, I covet time in the studio. The studio is an extension of me.
I was looking forward to spending a few hours working on new etchings that are in progress. With exhibits coming up, I am driven to get things completed. Much is going on, and I am notorious for starting new works and leaving ongoing projects in an ongoing state. At the studio, I remembered that I had told the village maintenance man that I would get in touch with him and let him in to check out a faulty water meter. Several back and forth phone calls and visits to the ailing meter, a call and visit from a neighbor who wanted to borrow a tool, and my valued studio time seemed to have evaporated.
Oil painter friend, Fred Easker had, a couple of months ago, invited me to come to Maquoketa, Iowa where he was going to be conducting a landscape painting workshop. Today was the day for my visit. After failing to get things accomplished in the studio, I left Blue Mounds by 5:30, I would arrive in Maquoketa by my expected 7:30 arrival time.
It was foggy and threatening rain when I got into my van to drive to Iowa. Fred had phoned the day before to give me directions. Maquoketa is a small town between Dubuque and Davenport. I had driven past it before but never into it. I had loaded some of my framed etchings into the van to show Fred's pupils. I also brought some etching plates and the tools that I use. I was not sure what he had in mind, and uncertainty can put me off balance.
For a couple of hours, I was to be the center of attention with Fred's painting workshop students. I don't want to tell you about what I discussed with the students, but I simply want to tell you about the place. It was a surprise and is remarkable. The Old City Hall Gallery is the studio of Charles Morris and Rose Frantzen. If you are interested, please go to their website: http://www.oldcityhallgallery.com Sometimes amazing things occur in unlikely places. I was greeted by Fred Easker and Charles Morris. Fred, who I have known for some time, is an accomplished landscape oil painter. Chuck is, who I was meeting for the first time, primarily an illustrator of children's books. Rose Frantzen was not there, but is an accomplished oil painter. She did a series of portraits of citizens called "A Portrait of Maquoketa". She painted portraits of anyone who was willing to sit for her. There is life in her paintings. An exhibit of the work is presently hanging in the Smithsonian in Washington D.C. It was, to me, a remarkable trip to a remarkable place. It was an unexpected surprise. Arthur Geisert"s etchings were on display on the walls, loose prints held in place with thumbtacks.
I drove back to Wisconsin through turbulent weather. It is a trip and a place that I simply want to let you know about.
I was looking forward to spending a few hours working on new etchings that are in progress. With exhibits coming up, I am driven to get things completed. Much is going on, and I am notorious for starting new works and leaving ongoing projects in an ongoing state. At the studio, I remembered that I had told the village maintenance man that I would get in touch with him and let him in to check out a faulty water meter. Several back and forth phone calls and visits to the ailing meter, a call and visit from a neighbor who wanted to borrow a tool, and my valued studio time seemed to have evaporated.
Oil painter friend, Fred Easker had, a couple of months ago, invited me to come to Maquoketa, Iowa where he was going to be conducting a landscape painting workshop. Today was the day for my visit. After failing to get things accomplished in the studio, I left Blue Mounds by 5:30, I would arrive in Maquoketa by my expected 7:30 arrival time.
It was foggy and threatening rain when I got into my van to drive to Iowa. Fred had phoned the day before to give me directions. Maquoketa is a small town between Dubuque and Davenport. I had driven past it before but never into it. I had loaded some of my framed etchings into the van to show Fred's pupils. I also brought some etching plates and the tools that I use. I was not sure what he had in mind, and uncertainty can put me off balance.
For a couple of hours, I was to be the center of attention with Fred's painting workshop students. I don't want to tell you about what I discussed with the students, but I simply want to tell you about the place. It was a surprise and is remarkable. The Old City Hall Gallery is the studio of Charles Morris and Rose Frantzen. If you are interested, please go to their website: http://www.oldcityhallgallery.com Sometimes amazing things occur in unlikely places. I was greeted by Fred Easker and Charles Morris. Fred, who I have known for some time, is an accomplished landscape oil painter. Chuck is, who I was meeting for the first time, primarily an illustrator of children's books. Rose Frantzen was not there, but is an accomplished oil painter. She did a series of portraits of citizens called "A Portrait of Maquoketa". She painted portraits of anyone who was willing to sit for her. There is life in her paintings. An exhibit of the work is presently hanging in the Smithsonian in Washington D.C. It was, to me, a remarkable trip to a remarkable place. It was an unexpected surprise. Arthur Geisert"s etchings were on display on the walls, loose prints held in place with thumbtacks.
I drove back to Wisconsin through turbulent weather. It is a trip and a place that I simply want to let you know about.
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