weloetchings

The MacNider Museum reception in Iowa (and the circuitous route getting there)

2011-02-28T08:42:00.000-08:00

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.

snow and wind

2011-02-01T12:54:00.000-08:00

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.

2010

2011-01-03T13:16:00.000-08:00

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.

San Francisco

2010-05-04T21:55:00.000-07:00

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.

Maquoketa and Iowa's allure

2010-04-07T10:59:00.000-07:00

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.

Highlandville, Iowa

2010-04-01T13:31:00.000-07:00

Last Friday, March 26th, I drove to Iowa again. A niece will be getting married in mid April, and I agreed to assist with a bridal shower that my wife, Pat, and my sister in law, Jean, were hosting at Jean's home. Jean and her husband have a farm outside of Decorah on Big Canoe Road. I was determined to stay in the background, helping with set up, some cooking and being available as needed. As an artist, all of the decisions having to do with every aspect of my creative work and business come from within. No one tells me what to do. It is a breath of fresh air to sometimes do what others ask. While setting up for the shower on Saturday morning, we realized that we needed ice for beverages. I got into my van and drove three miles to the Highlandville General Store. I had not been in Highlandville for over thirty years. It is a place that was pivotal in my becoming an artist. I had been to this tiny town many times during the summer of 1973. I arrived at this small store, which is on the banks of South Bear Creek. I walked up and down the aisles, experiencing strong feelings of deja vu. Getting the bags of ice out of the freezer, I walked to the check out. A man standing by the door asked me if I was coming or going. I wasn't sure how to reply to that. He told me that he was a writer from Omaha working on a magazine article on fly fishing in Highlandville and South Bear Creek. He thought I was a fisherman. I told him that the town's old hospital building had in one incarnation been an art school owned by a Luther College art professor, and that I had attended that school during the summer of '73.

The school at Highlandville was important because it was an environment where I was able to work on artwork under an instructor's guidance in day long classes over the course of several weeks during the summer. The hospital, which was a large, green house, was used as a dormitory, with the drawing and painting studio being in the attic. A pottery was in the barn out in the yard. We did life drawings in this cooled by a box fan attic every day, mornings and afternoons, as well as working outdoors on location. I did not live in the hospital dormitory but rented an old farmhouse with two friends for $75 a month. I also had employment unloading semi trailers in Decorah. I worked at this from midnight until about 4AM. Finishing work, I would go to the all night grocery store and get something to eat. I would drive out to Highlandville and sleep in the front seat of my car, an old Rambler. Someone would come out of the school in the morning and wake me up, and class would begin when I got there. After the intensive day long session, I would drive to the rented farm house, about ten miles away and sleep again until it was time to return to my night time job. These were things that flooded my mind during my short trip to Highlandville.

Back at the bridal shower, it was determined that we needed half and half for coffee. I was asked to make another trip to Highlandville and the store. Looking out in the farmyard, I pointed out the fact that there were about forty cows milling about...and you want me to drive to the store? Again, I had memories, this time of being a child at my uncle Ralph's farm outside of my home town of Hibbing, Minnesota where he would set me down on a stool beside one of his 25 cows, all named after important women from antiquity, and instruct me in the proper technique of milking a cow. Wisely, it was decided that I make another trip to Highlandville and the general store.

2010-03-18T08:31:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday, I traveled. Five of my works had been included in an exhibit at the Dodgeville Public Library to coincide with a regional film festival called "Making it Home". I picked up the work, and thinking about the day ahead, I called Vesterheim, the Norwegian American Museum located in Decorah, Iowa, about two hours away. I hoped to show and make them aware of my work. I had my portfolio of small etchings with me. They would see me at 1PM. Arriving in Decorah, I had stopped at Magpie, the local coffee place, for lunch. In a past life, I had known it as Ronnie's Cafe. My meeting at the museum was productive, and I agreed to leave my portfolio with Allison Dwyer who wanted to share it with the museum staff at their weekly Thursday meeting. It will be interesting to see where it will lead.

I went to Phelps Park (see photo). I worked on an etching there that I began several months ago. This is the second state. I worked in sugar lift (as I did in the first state). I positioned myself on the steep hillside, which was beginning to feel familiar to me and worked, concentrating fully on my subject using a brush and india ink laden with table sugar. The etching initially had a few false starts, but now I think I have it to a point where the composition is strong. It is an important place to me with a history that goes back to my first year in Decorah as a freshman at Luther College (1969). I have made a few etchings of the bridge and trail. It was one of my first etching subjects as an art student. Each time, I try to improve on past efforts. I think this will be my best interpretation of the place. I needed to be in Spring Grove, Minnesota later in the afternoon to deliver work to Bluff Country Artists Gallery so my time in Decorah was limited, and I had to make the most of it. BCAG will have a show of my work that begins on April 5th. There will be a reception on Friday April 23rd, which will coincide with the Spring Art Tour. I will be at the gallery in Spring Grove for the art tour. It is a beautiful gallery in a town of about 1,300 people. It is a non profit gallery that is backed by an enthusiastic community. They asked that I include some of my earlier works so the show will be a mix of new and also a sort of "best of" with some etchings that go back to about 1990. When I left the gallery, I was taken by the look of the grain elevator behind Main Street. There was a juxtaposition of the elevator, street lights and power lines with the town's water tower. I had my sketch book, a pen and instinctively knew that I needed to draw this place. The sun was shining and there was (daylight savings) time.

Energized by this activity and the concentration that it required, I drove to Lansing, Iowa on the Mississippi. It is undiscovered by tourism. Fred Easker and his wife, Velga, live in Cedar Rapids but also have a place in Lansing. It overlooks the Mississippi. It is beautiful. They are both artists. Fred is an oil painter who I have become friends with over the last couple of years. They knew I was coming and we went to Milty's for pizza and a visit. It was close to 9PM when I departed, crossed the bridge into Wisconsin and drove the two hour drive to home in Mount Horeb. It had been a busy, productive and enjoyable day.

Recently...

2010-03-13T13:37:00.000-08:00

Since my last entry, my life has been quite eventful. The early months of the year are a time that I am able to sink my teeth into working on new images. Some of the etchings have been in progress for a time, but there are others that are just beginning and also those that exist only in my mind. There are also quite a few studies that are done in my sketch book. This is a way of giving the ideas a measure of concrete form. It is also a way of determining if the ideas have a future. Not all of them do.

On the personal front, my mother in law died in January. It was sudden. She was eighty and in great shape. I will miss her. She had always been there, and she treated me like a son.

My brother is an investment banker from the twin cities. He invited me to join him on a business trip to New York. I have never aspired to be a part of that scene. Trips to NYC have always been for enjoyment. This time, however, I tried to set up some appointments to show my work. I did not have much success with the attempts, but I was able to show my work to a gallery called the Old Print Shop, which is located on Lexington and 29th. The gallery has been around for a long time...over 100 years. It is well established. Michael DiCerbo, the curator, liked my etchings. I recently shipped them a package of my work, and they will be representing me in New York. I am enthused about my new relationship with them. I took the subway around the city. I bought 24 hour fun passes so I could ride the subway or the bus all that I wanted. The woman in the ticket booth at the subway station told me how to buy the pass at the automat. She lost me after step 3. I went to the machine and started touching the screen and obeying the prompts. I messed up. Suddenly a booming voice started to instruct me. I thought it was the voice of God. It took me a few seconds to realize that the woman in the booth could see what I was doing, and she started to instruct me over the PA system. You had to be there. I thought it was funny though.

I also sent work to the Miller Art Museum in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin. They are having an invitational printmaking invitational and included my work. I have been in one other show at that museum. I have four etchings in this exhibit. It will be hanging in the museum until April 20th.

On Tuesday, I will be traveling to Spring Grove, Minnesota. It is about three hours away. Bluff Country Artists Gallery will have a show of my etchings throughout the month of April. I will deliver the work on Tuesday. On the trip, I will stop in Lansing, Iowa to get together with painter friend, Fred Easker. I will also try to make it to Decorah, Iowa to work on the next stage of the Phelps Park bridge etching that I am doing.

Also...coming up in May will be a show of my work at Paoli House Gallery. It is located in a small town between my studio and Madison. It is a beautiful gallery. It is small, but is the kind of place that I will really enjoy being a part of . Mike and Bev Thom are the owners. I visited the gallery last fall and approached them about my work at that time. The exhibit will open on May 21st.

In February, I was in Milwaukee. My van had suddenly begun losing power, and it is the kind of van that not everyone can work on. I used my AAA membership and had it towed to a garage in Milwaukee for servicing. While there, bemoaning the repair bill that I was going to get, I visited Tory Folliard Gallery. It is my favorite gallery in that city. I can't say for certain, but I think they will be representing me there eventually. I was able to show them my work and they liked it. Their first commitment, though is to work for the artists that they already represent. The possibility is for me exciting. That is my life lately.

Dream house

2010-01-13T13:52:00.000-08:00

Since the photos were done, I have been working on the sky for "Dream house". I mentioned that I am using four copper plates. Each plate is inked with a different primary color: red, yellow and blue. The fourth plate is inked with black ink. The challenging part about printmaking like this is the fact that when I am working on the etching, I do not see the results until the image is printed. I am working on copper plates, and that is what I see in front of me. I have to be thinking about the color (and how it will combine with the others) while working on one of the plates. If I want green I have to combine yellow and blue with varying amounts of red and possibly some black. It is possible to achieve an infinite number of color combinations.

People who work in painting become accustomed to painting a color and seeing that color as they apply it to the paper. That is not the case with etching. The color is finally seen after the plates have been etched in the acid, inked and pulled through the press combining colors from all of the plates. The uncertainty is great, but with years of experience, it is possible to anticipate a bit. This is not a medium for control freaks. There are those of us who have learned to take a good amount of delight in the uncertainties of the medium and work within that realm.

Back to the "Dreamhouse" sky. I have been etching the red plate using soft ground and textures. I have also been etching the blue plate using marbling and aquatint and the black plate using marbling and no aquatint. There is no aquatint used on the black plate, because I want to have layers of the dream like marbled shapes, but black (by its nature) can tend to overpower the other colors. With no aquatint, it will tend to be lighter and a little more ambiguous. All of these plates are being lowered slowly into the acid to get a transition of etching depth. The darkest, most intense colors will be at the top and will gradually fade to nothingness as they get closer to the horizon.

At last

2010-01-12T13:52:00.000-08:00

Sometimes this profession feels like it works in fits and starts. Momentum is gained and lost. Any artist who is able to have momentum and hang on to it continuously has my highest regard. I convince myself that losing momentum is not necessarily a bad thing. When it is lost, there is the element of feeling frustrated, but there is also the desire to regain that which was lost. It is like a hunger that needs to be satiated. In September, I lost my momentum. I needed to prepare work for my November and December travels (see previous posts). It required that I focus on the printing end of things as well as preparing work for display. Now it is January, my studio has been reorganized, and I am diving into things again. I will not tell you how many etchings I have in progress. They have all been sitting there on shelves, but also in my brain (all twenty of them and of various sizes), and they have been occupying a fair number of my thoughts over the past couple of months.

One of the pieces I am working on, is an etching from the late 1980s. This may suggest to you a certain lack of new ideas on my part, but I insist that it is absolutely not the case. I have always liked the concept for this piece (it was originally called "Waiting"), but I was dissatisfied with how I executed it. It is a color etching (16" x 20"). It was done using four plates. My disappointment with it lies in the fact that I now believe that the execution of the idea requires that I use the colors with much greater intensity. My concept with the first 1980s incarnation of it lead to an anemic print. I am a better artist than I was then. Every aspect of my work has improved. I could go at those weak compositional areas with a scraper and "clean it up", but I think I will work it through as is. I think that with stronger use of color and greater visual interest, any compositional awkwardness or weakness will be minimized. The new title of the work is "Dream house". I will post photos of it as it progresses as well as a shot of the first incarnation. Please forgive my lack of skill as a photographer.

Winter in Blue Mounds

2010-01-07T08:49:00.000-08:00

The holidays and their accompanying demands are over. I am looking forward to sinking my teeth into the creative side of my profession. This week, I have reorganized my work area, going through etchings that have been in progress, but were put on hold in the fall. When I make my trips to galleries, there is much time and energy that goes into the trip preparation, and ongoing projects are stopped. This can be good in that when I return to the pieces, it is like starting over. Works that seemed to have been at an impasse, I see with different eyes, and solutions sometimes seem evident. Jesi, if she is able to make it from Madison to Blue Mounds today (we are having quite a bit of snow as I write this), will assist me with regaining my artistic momentum. Jesi has been with me since early 2009. She is my current apprentice. She has been great at helping me with things around my studio. In exchange for her help, she works on her own etchings. I am eager to give her guidance whenever she wants it.

It began snowing last night. I woke up early this morning to the sound of snow plows outside of my Mount Horeb house. When I arrived at Blue Mounds, five miles down the slippery road from MH, I donned my snow shoes and went for a walk along the Military Ridge Trail. I commute on this trail in the summer on my bicycle. It is the source of many of my etching ideas, and I know it well. I had never snow shoed on it before. I took off in the direction of Barneveld, a town which is five miles further down the road. My instinct told me to stay put in my studio and get to work, but how can one resist anything this beautiful. Art is part of my conscious and my subconscious. I always look at things in terms of compositions. Today was a feast for my eyes. There are areas along the trail that I have noted before from the vantage point of my bicycle in the warmer months. These places were equally beautiful this morning. I will try to go out again tomorrow even though the snow will have passed. I will take my camera and post a photo or two. Even with two layers of gloves, my fingers got cold. I passed the state park entrance and decided to walk an additional half mile to a gate that I had looked at a number of times. I stopped at the gate to look before heading back. I had begun to sweat, and it trickled down my face. The tree branches were covered with snow. A squirrel was traversing the tree tops leaving clouds of disturbed snow behind him. The branches seemed to be impossibly small to carry him. He jumped from tree to tree and before long passed over my head, crossing over the trail. Before long he had disappeared from my sight, the only trace of him being the cloud of snow occasionally falling from the branches that he was disturbing. I have often seen wildlife while walking on this trail. When I am on my bicycle, I come up on them fairly quickly and often surprise them. On snow shoes, however, it is a little more difficult. I move slowly, and the sound of the large surfaces crunching through the snow alert any creature long before I get to where they are. I returned to my studio. The exertion and experience was refreshing. I will write more later. I hope you are warm where you are.

Back in the studio

2009-12-15T17:09:00.000-08:00

I drove back from Ohio on Sunday, arriving home in the evening. It was a long drive. I had attempted to set up a couple of appointments while I was in Ohio. None of them worked out, partially due to the winter weather. I felt restless. I like it when my days are full. On Friday morning, I left Alliance and drove to Youngstown and visited the Butler Institute. It was decked out for the holidays. It is a wonderful museum of American art. If you are ever in that area, you must go there. I went back to Akron. Denis Conley hosts a get together at the gallery every Friday afternoon and into the evening. We went to the Diamond Grille again. Instead of going into the dining room, Denis opened a side door that lead into the kitchen. The kitchen staff knows him. Denis sang an excerpt from an Italian opera aria. The staff loved it and applauded enthusiastically as did I.

On Saturday, I sat in my van in front of Denis' house and drew on an etching plate. I frequently travel with a copper plate to work on. I don't like it when my time is empty. I did a portrait of his house and neighborhood (see photograph). There were only a few hours for me to work so I had to work quickly. Looking at the plate, I could see that my lines were alive with energy. I try to draw this way. Will they retain this character when I return to my studio and place the copper plate in the acid bath? Working quickly does not always mean working well. My concentration was pretty complete, and even if it is not a masterpiece, the act of creating can be as important as seeing a result. When I work, I can sense that I am not breathing. I don't pass out so I guess it is okay. As I worked from my subject, I think about how I will proceed after etching the lines. Building up layers of value using soft ground seems to be a good solution. All of this will need to be done back in Wisconsin, however. I will etch the lines deeply, layer softground values over the lines and then use sandpaper to soften those values, hopefully creating subtle gradations in my shading. The darkest areas will be done with drypoint...this would include the darkest shadows as well as some accents.

I went to The Nervous Dog coffee shop and did some correspondence...all of it hand written. I don't have a laptop, and I value writing to people. Email is fine but to a point. It was near the end of the work day when I finally got to Denis' gallery. I had bought tickets to see the Cleveland Orchestra that evening. We saw the Messiah. Linnea Nereim, who plays bass clarinet for the orchestra, met us after the concert at Sergios, a restaurant near the concert hall. Denis and Linnea had not met before and hit it off immediately. Denis is an orchestra subscriber and could remember and discuss concerts from years before. I could tell that Linnea was impressed as was I. I took things in. I can be a good listener. Classical music is a subject that I admit to not knowing a lot about, but I was fascinated by their conversation. I thought about asking them if they ever listened to Duke Ellington, but decided against it.

Sunday morning I cooked breakfast for the two of us and departed for Wisconsin in pouring rain, the temperatures flirting with freezing. The rain had subsided when I reached Indiana. The drive went smoothly. The Midwestern blizzard had come and gone, but the snow that needed to be shoveled waited for me. It was good to be back.

Mount Union College

2009-12-10T19:20:00.000-08:00

I am in my hotel near Mount Union College in Alliance, Ohio. I had planned on leaving Wisconsin on Wednesday morning, arriving at my destination on Thursday in time for the afternoon reception. Looking online at the weather forecasts told me that I needed to head out of Wisconsin sooner than that. Wanting to avoid the coming winter storm, I left home on Tuesday morning's slippery highways. The driving was difficult. The internet had only promised me snow and ice. If things did not improve by the time I got to Janesville (an hour southeast of Madison), I would cancel the trip. Traffic loosened up and after an hour of stop and go driving, I was moving along at 50 mph. I drove through Chicago on I-90. I could sense the storm's pulse near me. The sky looked heavy with snow. The Indiana and Ohio Turnpikes were clear. I was ahead of the storm. I stopped at a rest stop a half hour before Toledo where I had a hotel reservation. After using the restroom, I stepped outside. It was raining, and it was freezing on contact. I called Denis Conley, my friend from Akron. I drove past Toledo, sacrificing the security of my waiting hotel room and pushed on to Akron. It was 8PM when I arrived. Denis was waiting at his gallery. The rain had subsided, but when we left the gallery, it had returned in all its glory. Rain had become sleet. We went to the Diamond Grille and had steaks and wine. And then to his house for the night. Luigi, Denis' cat was waiting for us. I fell asleep and woke up to the sound of ice hitting the roof.

In the morning the wind was strong. I was weary from the drive, and I slept until 9AM. Denis went to work. I worked on the talk that I was going to give in Alliance. I went to the gallery in the afternoon. George Roush helps Denis in the gallery. He is an oil painter who I had not met before. They needed to hang George's abstract paintings at Crave, a local restaurant in the evening. Denis has a great aesthetic for doing this. The dining room made a statement. We had dinner and went back to Denis' house. The ice had subsided and it was simply cold and windy with horizontal snow.

Thursday morning brought the preparations for my drive to Alliance and Mount Union College, which is about an hour south. I spent additional time on my lecture. It was important to me, but there is always the nagging insecurity drawing a mental blank and the talk being a flop. I had purchased an inexpensive olympus digital recorder so I could hear my own voice. Listening to my voice, I could see where the weaknesses lay. I had initially written out the entire lecture and was going to read it. Thinking about my etchings, I realized this was a false approach. I creat my etchings on location and extemporaneously. My speech had to be done in a similar manner. I would put away the text and just speak. I think it worked.

When I arrived at the college, an art faculty member recognized me walking through the art gallery, and greeted me warmly. My work had been hung beautifully in the Crandall Gallery. I can be quite critical, but there was nothing to criticize....except my work...I can't help that. The work in the show had previously hung in my exhibit at the Butler Institute of American Art in Youngstown. I could see a dozen things in my etchings that I would have done differently now. Will I ever get over the critical self analysis thing? The closing reception was catered. The food was delicious...it was elegant. They did it for me. I was touched. Even though it was on the eve of finals, students showed up. Faculty members, Margo Miller and Tim Hallaran took me out to dinner after the reception. It is a busy time of year. They were tired, but it never showed in their kindness to me. The night ended with conversation. The hotel room awaited my return.

My etchings at Mount Union College

2009-12-01T15:52:00.000-08:00

I am getting ready for a trip next week to Ohio. I had an exhibit earlier in the year at the Butler Institute of American Art which is located in Youngstown, Ohio. At the reception were art faculty members from Mount Union College in Alliance, Ohio. They liked my work and invited me to have a showing there. When I returned to Ohio in July, I transported the etchings from the Butler Institute to Mount Union College. The exhibit was hung on November 3rd. I will drive to Alliance for a closing reception on December 10th. The reception will be from 4PM to 6PM. I will deliver a lecture, and will talk about how I began my art career. I think that I can offer some useful information to aspiring young artists. After the reception, I will pack up my framed etchings and transport them back to my Wisconsin studio. For more information about my exhibit at the Butler, please see my April 10, 2009 post entitled "Last chance to see it".

THE GIRL WITH THE CAT TATTOO

2009-11-30T08:43:00.001-08:00

Weekends at my studio can be quiet. Blue Mounds is far enough from Madison that not many people consider it to be a destination. When I moved my studio into the upstairs of the opera house in 2001, Blue Mounds was even quieter. Two bars were the only other businesses on Main Street. The town had seen a better time. The paint on the opera house was falling off in sheets. It too had seen better days. Since I moved in here, the former hardware store turned apartment building across the street was renovated and converted into a Dharma center. The grocery store, across Main Street and at the far end of the block is now a Buddhist center. The empty bank which had been used for storage, has also been renovated and turned into a pilates center. I will tell you more about it another time. The addition of curb and gutter have also taken it from the look of bib overalls to khaki slacks. Even though the town has become "respectable", it can still be a pretty quiet place on the weekends.

So, when I received an email from Angela, requesting to visit my studio on Saturday, it was something unusual, but not unheard of. Angela had contacted me a couple of months previous to her visit to request permission to use one of my etchings. While people do occassionally request to use one of my works, this request was one that I had never encountered before. Angela wanted to have one of my cat etchings tattooed onto one of her legs. After digesting her request (I have never been asked this before), I wrote back to her and told her that I would be honored. Her visit on Saturday was centered around showing me the tattoo. I was not sure what to expect when she arrived. Would it be one of many tattoos on her? Would my reserved upbringing cause me an uncomfortable feeling gazing at this woman's leg?

Angela arrived with her friend, Beth. The tattoo was done beautifully, and she told me that it was her first tattoo. For some reason I thought of the book "The girl with the dragon tattoo", which I had read during the summer. I could envision Angela as being the books heroine, Lisbeth Salander. I doubt that there is any parallel there at all, but needless to say, I was flattered that she chose one of my works for her tattoo.

A day in Decorah, Iowa

2009-11-25T14:23:00.001-08:00

I traveled to Decorah, Iowa yesterday. I had several things that I wanted to accomplish. The drive takes two and one half hours and takes me through rural southern Wisconsin crossing the Mississippi River at Prairie Du Chien. I called Vesterheim, the Norwegian American Museum to try to set up an appointment to show them my etchings. Since both of my parents were Norwegians, it seemed like a good idea to make their curatorial staff aware of my work. I left a phone message. Upon arriving in Decorah, I went to Agora Arts, which is a gallery on Water Street in Decorah. I have to say that it was not an encouraging visit. Many of the works that I had consigned there were returned to me. It is my hope when consigning my work, that the pieces will sell. When they are returned unsold, the question becomes,"Now what?" It is inventory that I had planned not on having. I have had a good relationship with the gallery so there were no hard feelings involved. At Gail's suggestion (Gail is the owner of Agora), I stopped at The Perfect Edge, which is a frame shop in Decorah. I introduced myself to Anja, the owner. She had framed a number of my works over the years. It is possible that I will have a show there sometime next year.

I went to Phelps Park. If you read one of my earlier blog entries, you saw that I have been working on an etching at this location. It is important to me to work from my source material so time spent on the plate is reserved for when I am able to stop, sit down and work while looking at the subject. The vantage point is precarious, but I worked it out. I decided to proceed using sugar lift, which is india ink mixed with sugar and applied with a brush. It went well, but my time was limited and it required my complete concentration. It ended when it began to rain. The rain can disolve the water soluble india ink so I had to scramble for the safety of my van.

My cell phone rang. The curator at Vestserheim is interested in looking at my work, but would have to make arrangements for another day. I dropped off my business card for her.

Leaving Decorah, I drove to Bluff Country Artists Gallery in Spring Grove, Minnesota. I delivered several of my etchings to them. Leaving Spring Grove, I proceeded on secondary roads back into Iowa and the town of Lansing. Lansing is located on the Mississippi. I have mentioned before that it is largely undiscovered by tourism. I met Fred Easker an oil painter from Cedar Rapids who has a place in Lansing. We had dinner together and talked about art and our lives. The drive back to home in Wisconsin was in the dark. It was nearly midnight when I got home.

The reluctant blogger

2009-11-21T15:57:00.000-08:00

Let me tell you about my last, most recent trip. I was on the road for over a week traveling to Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas and Missouri. Priscilla Steele of Campbell Steele Gallery in Marion, Iowa had arranged for me to do an etching demonstration in the gallery on Thursday, November 5th. Priscilla has an MFA in printmaking from the University of Iowa and hosted the event. She did much of the speaking...very eloquently, and I printed etchings using her etching press. About 20 people were there to watch the evening event. When it was over, I had initially planned on going on line, making a hotel reservation in Des Moines and continuing my trip. At their urging, I decided to sleep on the sofa in their upstairs apartment. The evening was wonderful. The demo followed by dinner with Craig and Priscilla and then upstairs to sleep. They have converted the second floor of the gallery into their own living quarters and Priscilla's studio. On the way to Campbell Steele Gallery, I had paid a late afternoon visit to Iowa Artisans Gallery in Iowa City to deliver artwork to them.

In the morning, Priscilla greeted me with coffee and banana bread to see me on my way. I drove to Des Moines, checked into my hotel early and went to 2AU to deliver etchings. I had previously arranged to participate in the Two Rivers Art Expo in Des Moines at the Hy Vee Center downtown. It is an indoor art fair. Trips such as this are expensive for me. Galleries take my work on consignment. I am paid by them only after the artwork sells. Prior to this trip, I needed to frame my work and get it ready for presentation. It is not inexpensive. On the trip, there are also the costs of meals, hotels and vehicle expenses. The art expo is a way of hopefully generating income while on the trip to cover some of the expenses up front. The show was a success for me. The audience responded favorably and many purchased my work. Because of that, it was a relief. The show closed Sunday afternoon. After packing things up, I drove my van to Omaha and another hotel. I arrived late. There was a bar nearby where I could grab a burger. Large TV screens decorated every wall. I was tired and hungry.

On Monday morning, after Starbucks, I drove to Lincoln, Nebraska. There was a feeling of sadness because the gallery that had represented me there had closed. So Oh Fine Art was a successful venture for Renee Johnson, but it was time for her to move on to other horizons. She took care of her artists and helped me find a new gallery in Lincoln. Stephanie and Jo Ann of the Lux Center for the Arts met me in the morning at the gallery. I am excited about the new relationship. I think I will like being a part of the Lux Center, and I am optimistic that they will have success with my work. After that, I met Renee Johnson for lunch at LaPaz, a mexican restaurant. I picked up my work that was remaining in her inventory. Even though the gallery had closed, she continued to sell my work to her clients. She was returning what remained.

I hit the road that afternoon, arriving in Manhattan, KS and Strecker Nelson Gallery at 5PM. My work will be featured as part of a show there in January and February of 2010. I delivered 14 framed etchings for that exhibit. After having dinner and conversation with Jay and Barbara at Harry's, I headed for Kansas City, driving two hours through heavy rains.

The rain had stopped when I arrived at my hotel in Westport in Kansas City. I have mentioned before that I enjoy visiting Kansas City. It is a city that has a unique flavor that has appealed to me for quite a few years. On Tuesday morning, I visited the Kemper Museum. They were hosting an exhibit of Wyeth family works. That was followed by a trip to American Legacy Gallery. Jack Olsen and Marlin (an accomplished watercolorist and the gallery framer) met me. I showed them my newest work and left it on consignment with them. The visit to this gallery was the centerpiece of my visit to Kansas City. My trips to KC do not seem quite complete without a visit to Gates Barbeque on Main Street (closer to downtown). After a plate of short ends, I returned to my hotel room and retired for the night.

On Wednesday, I left a phone message for the curator at the Kemper, attempting to meet with her and show her my etchings. Previously (before leaving on this trip), I had set up a meeting with Beth Lurey at the Stowers Institute. Beth is the curator of the Stowers art collection, but she is also the acting printmaking curator at the Nelson Atkins Museum. I liked her immediately. She was down to earth and there was nothing curatorial about her. She looked at the first three etchings in my folder and said "I think I'm going to like these." How could anyone say anything nicer to me. I feel that I have been around the block a few times with my career. Invincibility is a good idea, but I am still vulnerable to how people react to me and my work. My skin is thick but to a point. I am optimistic that my work will be added to the collection. Time will tell. After my meeting with her, I drove to the Nelson Atkins Museum and spent the next three hours going through the collection. My business trip became a vacation if only for that day. I scooted out of KC just as rush hour was beginning. I headed north on I-29 for Sioux City. I had an appointment with curator, Todd Behrens at the Sioux City Art Center at 10AM the following morning. I will oftentimes drive in the evening. I have never been fond of sitting in hotel rooms while there is still time left in the day. I arrived at Sioux City...once again late. The desk clerk recommended Chilis and another nearby chain. I was tired and hungry. I ignored his recommendations and began driving on an elevated street that seemed to be going nowhere. I had never been to Sioux City before and everything was new. There ahead was an island of light. There was a drive in restaurant still open...something about Taystee in and out. The sign said they had been in business since the mid 50s. I parked and went to the walk up window (my van was too tall for their clearance). A taystee, the woman on the other side of the window told me, is what I had grown up knowing as a sloppy joe, or, in other parts of Iowa, they are called maid rites. It was just the ticket. She threw in an order of their famous home made onion chips for me. It was night time, and kind of dark and lonely feeling. She called me darling and honey. How could there be anything wrong in the world?!

Returning to my hotel, I drove up and down Nebraska street. I spotted a coffee shop. In the morning, after checking out of my hotel, I went there and tried to get a feel for the area and where I was going. Todd Behrens greeted me at the art center. He looked at my work. We had a cordial visit. I had another appointment that afternoon in Mason City, Iowa so I did not stay longer than to visit with him. I would have enjoyed spending more time there.

I drove through rural Iowa on route 20. To me, this is beautiful. Everything was brown and fall like, but the daylight and the rural landscape, a part of Iowa that I had not seen before, appealed to me. My appointment in Mason City was at the MacNider Museum. I was greeted there by Mara Linskey, their curator. I showed her my etchings. She offered me a show in their smaller gallery contingent on the approval of their board. If the show happens, it will be a good venue for my work. After meeting with her, I went through their collection that was on view. It is an impressive collection of works by artists that I like.

It was dusk as I departed for Cedar Falls, Iowa a little over an hour away. I called Henry W. Myrtle Gallery. I would arrive after they closed. I called Hugh Pettersen, the former owner of the gallery. We arranged to have dinner together, and he would deliver my artwork to the gallery the following day. I drove to his house and we took his car to CU, a restaurant in Waterloo, Iowa. Hugh has become a good friend over the years. I value my conversations with him. He bought me dinner. I will take him out the next time in the area. We talked about life and music. There is a Russian pianist who has taught at UNI. Hugh is familiar with him and his work. Hugh has worked hard to keep him on the faculty. I will try to return in February for his performance with the Waterloo Symphony of A Rhapsody in Blue.

I drove home to Wisconsin. I arrived at midnight. The house was quiet. The trip was over. It had been planned extensively. The actual travel is not that hard and is enjoyable. It was a good trip, but I was quite tired. A glass of wine later, and it was time for sleep.

Back in the studio

2009-07-14T14:23:00.000-07:00

On my return trip from Ohio, I had planned on taking a side trip up into Michigan and visiting the Petter Gallery in Douglas/Saugatuck, along the shore of Lake Michigan. It is a tourist area. I decided, however, to continue traveling on the Indiana Turnpike. While I like to visit most of my galleries at least once a year, I decided that I needed to get back to Wisconsin and could ship my work to the Petter Gallery instead. I was home before midnight.

The trip to Ohio was successful. Denis Conley took great care of me in Akron. I arrived Thursday evening and delivered three new etchings to him. We went to Rousseau's a restaurant on the outskirts of Akron. On Thursday morning, I drove to Youngstown and picked up the work from my exhibit. I spent a few hours going through the museum. It was relaxed and wonderful. The day was beautiful too. I look at the beauty created by other's hands, but I also look for information for myself. Etchings that I have in progress (there are about 25 of them) sometimes feel at an impass. Looking at other works, not always having any subject similarity whatsoever, can make the answers seem obvious. I left the museum feeling enriched and eager to dive back into things in Blue Mounds.

I transported the framed work to Mount Union College in Alliance, Ohio. They will have a show of my work at the Crandall Gallery in November and December. I will return to Ohio in December for a closing reception and to deliver a gallery talk on December 10th. I returned to Akron, having my afternoon coffee and taking notes on what had transpired that day. In my journal, I recreated (with words) the galleries in the Butler. They will be referred to and the works will be remembered and the inspirations will return. Denis closed his gallery, we hit the wine bar across the street, and finished the day eating Larry burgers at Larry's, an eatery next to the gallery.

Friday was the Cain Park Arts Festival. I arrived at the festival in the morning, setting up my booth. The show began at 3pm and the crowds came. The people of Cleveland were intelligent and receptive to my work. Sales, however, were sparse, an obvious result of our lackluster economy.

Saturday brought heavy rains until early afternoon. The public simply did not show up on Saturday. Sunday was gorgeous. The crowds came, but still the sales were infrequent. I was fortunate. At the awards brunch before the show began, I was awarded first prize. A check for $750 accompanied the ribbon. I am grateful to the judges and for the award. With few sales, there were quite a few long faces among the artists.

I met people at the show. Mystery writer, Richard Montanari, purchased an etching on Friday and introduced himself to me. Being a fan of film noir, I have read Hammett, Chandler, and among contemporary authors, Lehane and Ellroy. Soon I will have read Montanari's "Badlands". Can't wait. I will visit Booked for Murder, a mystery bookstore in Madison tomorrow. Past collectors came as well as Kate Martinson who teaches art at my alma matter, Luther College. Kate was accompanied by her daughter, Robin, who lives in Cleveland. Margo Miller, from Mount Union College stopped by with her mom. Linnea Nereim came by and told me that I had to visit Squaw Rock and the South Chagrin Reservation. She plays bass clarinet for the Cleveland Symphony. We talked about music and performing it. I am fascinated by the concept of creating art that takes place in time. If I am working on an etching, I can stop any time and resume later. I try to imagine what it would be like to play in something as large and potentially powerful as a symphony. It is difficult to grasp, but I could feel my pulse quicken as I listened to her tell me about things like playing the solo in the last movement of Shostokovich's seventh, and creating her performance based on her own conception as well as that of the conductor. Packing up my booth at the end of the day, I returned to Akron and a wonderful dinner prepared by Denis at his home.

I departed on Monday morning, visiting the Conley Gallery one additional time and leaving a few more works with Denis. I went to Squaw Rock. Linnea was right. It was beautiful. It was like walking around in a Bierstadt painting. I did not have more than a couple of hours, but I made four sketches. Sketches are better than photos. They plant a time and a place in your mind. Try it. I will remember that visit forever. I needed to be in Toledo later that afternoon. The American Gallery is in Sylvania. I delivered my new work. Toni, the owner, came to see what I was delivering. We had a good visit and I left my newest and best work. It was late afternoon when I departed from Toledo. It was at least another 300 miles back to my home. I took a different route through Chicago at dusk. I am curious about things and enjoy having a tourist's point of view.

This is long. Please let me know if it is too much so. Talk to you later!

Ohio trip

2009-07-07T07:04:00.000-07:00

I will be traveling to Ohio tomorrow, picking up my artwork on Thursday at the Butler Institute in Youngstown. I will be delivering the work from that exhibit to Mount Union College in Alliance, Ohio where there will be an exhibit of my etchings in November and December. Returning to Alliance in December, there will be a closing reception and lecture on December 10th.

This weekend, I will be participating in the Cain Park Arts Festival in Cleveland. It is a unique outdoor show and one of the few that I am still pariticpating in. Denis Conley of Akron will provide me, once again, with a place to lay my head at night. There will also be other gallery visits during this trip, which will last about one week. Today, I will complete the framing and presentation of work, load my van, and tomorrow, I depart with the first stop being Graphic Chemical and Ink in Chicago. They provide me with many of the printmaking supplies and tools that I use. I have been their customer since the 1970s. They know me and I them. A few of my etchings are on the walls of their main room. The day's travels will end in Akron, Ohio tomorrow evening.

I ride my bicycle to my studio almost every day. There is a bicycle trail between Mount Horeb where I live and Blue Mounds. It is about six miles each way and is a wonderful way to start the day. I am greeted by robins and gold finches that dodge and weave ahead of me in the tunnel of the trail. Cardinals and Thrushes have no time for that nonsense and choose to make hasty exits to the surrounding forest. Rabbits and ground squirrels dart in front of me (I have never hit one) and an occasional deer appears in front of me as well(I have not hit one of them either).

The trail is an old train road bed. As I ride, I can envision the locomotive and freight cars making their way through this same tunnel in the past. I have seen the rails from this perspective on a couple of occasions. I remember being a teenager traveling through North Dakota and the rusty old van breaking down. Having nowhere to stay and no vehicle and heading west, I ended up staying (voluntarily) in a jail cell in Jamestown. The next day found me, after several hours of very bad luck attempting to hitch hike making my way to the freight yard. I remembered someone telling me that it was possible to catch a ride in box cars. The yard was huge. Avoiding the yard bulls (police), I inquired as to which track would take me to Seattle (a stepping stone to Alaska where I was headed). I found an empty box car with the door open and hopped on. The view was glorious. The trip was magical. It is not the recommended way for young men from Hibbing, Minnesota (or from anywhwere) to travel, but it worked, and my youthful spirit of adventure lead me to travel in this way.

Riding my bicycle to the studio, on this trail, reminds me frequently of this small, but exciting chapter in my youth.

Spring Art Tour

2009-06-12T12:19:00.000-07:00

It is the start of the 2009 Mount Horeb Spring Art Tour. It will be held today, June 12th through Sunday, the 14th. Last year was my first year as a participant. In 2008 the road between Mount Horeb and Blue Mounds was under construction. It needed it. There was also the rain. It was torrential and kept coming throughout the weekend. In spite of this, people showed up at my studio door. There were not a lot of people, but everyone who appeared, was here for a reason. They were a great and receptive audience.

This year the tour coincides with the dates of the Old Town Art Fair in Chicago. Old Town is one of the grand daddies of art fairs in the US going back to 1951 (the year of my birth). Old Town is a quaint neighborhood located just north of the Chicago loop. I began particpating in this art fair in 1981. I was still a kid looking for a means to make a living with my art. Throughout the years, Old Town has been a mainstay for me. It is an event that had its own personality before there was a recipe for art fairs. The ingredients were their own and they invented them. For this reason, it was and continues to be valued by me. It was a tough decision to make, but after close to thirty years in my shady booth on Lincoln Park West in Chicago, I opted to drop out of the Old Town Art Fair and stay close to home, participating in the area art tour.

My first visitor today was my good friend, Charlie Baker. He came with his son, David, driving over from Mineral Point. We had a great visit. Several additional people have come since the event began 2.5 hours ago. Some were on a mission to visit all of the participating artists' studios. Others simply saw the signs, followed the arrows and stopped in. Each artist was provided with ten signs. While Pat, my wife, was baking cookies for me last evening, I mapped out the strategic spots to place my signs. At 7AM this morning, I was staking the signs into the earth. After that, I worked on location on an etching plate that I have been working on. Then I went for a bike ride riding to Barneveld, a neighboring town, with one side trip that took me accross 18/151's four lanes, but into new territory. As I ride, I compose, doing quick mental sketches of the places that I see. I was motivated. I like the pace of a bicycle. I also like knowing the fact that I need to remember what I am seeing...the unbelievably long row of trees along the edge of a field, the starkness of their profiled shapes. The shadows thrown down the hill from the forest higher up. Knowing that I needed to return for the start of the art tour, I curtailed my adventure and rode back to Blue Mounds via the Military Ridge Trail. Good. There was still time for me to mow my tiny opera house lawn. I also went to the nearby grocery. I had sugar, but I needed cream for the coffee pot I had put on and also needed to distribute fliers to a few of my neighbors who I hoped would drop in. If you want to visit the tour electronically, go to www.springarttour.com

I am upstairs at my desk writing this. I hear my door opening downstairs. I hear voices. I need to go and see who it is.

The University League

2009-05-20T14:41:00.000-07:00

Today, a group visited my studio to participate in a printmaking workshop. Jean-Pierre Golay had visited my studio several years ago when I was located in neighboring Mount Horeb. In 1999 I had hosted a get together for the Madison Print Club, and Jean-Pierre had attended. We began communicating about a year ago when, after visiting my studio during the spring art tour, Jean-Pierre suggested that I invite the league over for a workshop. It took place today. I spent yesterday cleaning my studio (it needed it) and preparing for the group. This morning ten people appeared at the studio door, and we dove into creating etchings together. I demonstrated the basics of line etching and described the process to them. They worked, drawing their compositions onto copper plates. The plates were small and were completed by noon. During their lunch break, I etched the plates in the acid bath. The afternoon found everyone eagerly inking, wiping and printing their plates. I showed them how to do chine colle. We used sheets of dyed Japanese paper. It was fun to watch the excitement on their faces as they pulled their etchings through the press. Other than me working intently every day in the studio, the place can be pretty quiet. That was not the case today. The university league was a delightful group to host. They took photos. I hope the shots capture the energy of the day.

They departed with their prints by mid afternoon. I took a break to assess the remainder of the day. The plate that I had drawn on at Phelps Park in Decorah needed attention. I had drawn a drypoint with an etching needle over my sharpie lines (see previous blog entry). I had printed this drypoint image. Using these outlines, I began laying in values with charcoal, pushing the charcoal around on the surface of the printing paper. I erased frequently. The printed drypoint lines were a rough guide for my development of the composition. I made only a few adjustments to my printed drypoint composition. Looking at the charcoal drawing that I have now completed, I need to decide how to approach the etching. Will it be done in line? Several stages of sugar lift followed by drypoint? Will it be entirely drypoint? Will there be soft ground used? It could be a combination of all of the above. The melody (drawing) has been put into place. Now, I need to decide which members of the band will be participating and playing the parts. I will put it away for a while, and when returning to it, I will reassess. This is how I typically approach my work. There will be additional trips to Decorah, Iowa to look at the place and to work, on location, on the copper plate. I feel confident that this will be the best composition that I have made from this location. It is a place that was the subject of one of my first etchings as a young art student at Luther College back in the early 1970s. I will study my new drawing (which was done from a new vantage point) over the next few weeks. I will, at times, detach myself from it so that I can look at it critically and analytically, and hopefully make the wise choices. The purpose of detaching myself is necessary. I mention analysis and critical thinking. This is important, but equally important is the need for spontanaeity and freedom in the execution of the work itself. I have learned, over the years, how I can make my best work.

Bluff Country Artists Gallery Spring Art Tour and...

2009-05-07T19:32:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, April 25th, I drove to Spring Grove, Minnesota. The Bluff Country Artists Gallery is there. As you know from an earlier entry (February 20, 2009), I am new to the gallery. It was the spring art tour weekend in southeast Minnesota, and the gallery was part of the tour. They had invited me to be there on Saturday to meet people who would be visiting the gallery. I was uncertain as to what the outcome might be (Spring Grove is quite a small community), but it ended up being great. What a wonderful turnout of interested people, a number of whom had come down from the twin cities. I guess the point of all of this is that sometimes things happen in the least likely places. I work hard to become established in larger metropolitan areas such as Washington DC and Chicago, but the true excitement can be right in one's own back yard.

On the way to the gallery in the morning, I stopped in Lansing, Iowa which is a small town, relatively untouched by tourism and located on the Mississippi River. I had coffee with an artist friend from Cedar Rapids who has a place there. Fred Easker and I had communicated previously by email and this get together was a chance to become better acquainted. After the art tour and the time in Spring Grove, I drove the several miles to Decorah, Iowa where I delivered an etching to Agora Arts, which is a gallery that has represented me for a number of years. If you have read my February 20th blog entry, you will know about my previous trip to Decorah. The Phelps Park drawing that I had drawn onto the plate in the cold of February was compositionally not sitting well with me. I had come to accept the fact that it was necessary to redraw the composition onto the copper plate. As I pulled into the park, I could hear thunder in the distance. Being near the end of the day, it was also getting dark out. I knew that I had to make the most of my time there. I was able to get the new drawing onto the plate, once again drawing directly onto the copper using a sharpie. In a half hour, large drops of rain began to fall. The water prevented my marker from working on the metal. The time spent since February deliberating over the composition was well worth it, however. The results this time were better. I darted through the pouring rain back to my van. I drove the 2.5 hours back to Wisconsin, tired but invigorated by the day of meeting people and hard work. I do my best to make sure that my artist's life is never dull.

Washington, DC April 14-21

2009-04-28T18:41:00.000-07:00

I planned a spring getaway to visit my daughter in Washington DC. She works for the Human Rights Campaign. She found a new apartment and was preparing to move. I made sure that I timed my visit so that I could help her. My instincts told me to book a flight, get to Washington, rent a uhaul, make the move, enjoy a day or two with my daughter in the city and fly back. I resisted these instincts and took the train. The Capitol Line left Chicago early on Tuesday evening (April 14th). I sat in the sightseer lounge, facing the large windows, watching the city gradually dissolve into countryside. The same was true of Toledo, Cleveland and Pittsburgh. Country became city and city became country. This is not like traveling on the interstate. There are no fast food joints or hotel chains, no manicuring, no sanitizing. It is simply the countryside and glimpses into the world of others. It is remarkable to pass through a town, getting very quick glimpses into peoples lives. Stories are told quickly, and associations are made. Emotions are felt. At night, there is a kind of warmth in the islands of illumination. Yet, the emotions felt were not warm, fuzzy or Rockwellian. The trip took seventeen hours...it went too fast. There are others who share my enthusiasm for traveling in this way.

In addition to my suitcase, I brought a small black presentation box of my work...small etchings which can be shown easily. I had hopes of capitalizing on my show at the Butler Institute in Youngstown, with the intent of showing my etchings to possible contacts in Washington. None of them worked out, however. It was disappointing. I also called a gallery in Chicago that I have been interested in for a few years. I determined that, on the return trip the following Tuesday, I could walk to their gallery from the train station (a little over a mile) and upon returning to union station later in the day, could catch a bus back to Wisconsin. Sid at Printworks Gallery initially declined my offer to visit, but instructed me to send them a disc with images. By the time the conversation was over, however, I had an appointment to show my work on Tuesday morning (the 21st) at 11:15 AM. With all the activity of moving my daughter in DC, I had forgotten that I was going to call Printworks on Saturday to confirm my visit. Remembering it on Sunday, I called and left a telephone message confirming my Tuesday morning visit. On Monday (my return train did not depart until later in the afternoon), I was complete concentration, madly drawing the view out the back window of my daughter, Claire's new building...it was the backside of the adjoining neighborhood. I had noticed it immediately when we were in the process of moving, and this was my opportunity to put it down on paper. My phone began to vibrate in my pocket. Standing and fumbling my sketch book, I answered. It was Bob the co owner of the Chicago gallery. He and Sid have been best friends for 40 years. He told me that they would not be able to meet with me, telling me that Sid, who is 85, had fallen and cracked some ribs. I hope that Sid is okay, but I guess sometimes things are simply not meant to be. I was hoping to use the influence of the Butler show to make some good contacts...perhaps another time.

When I arrived in DC on Wednesday afternoon, Claire, my daughter, was at work. She walked to her apartment so I could drop off my things. She directed me to Kramer's Books, which is not far away. Nearing the store, I saw a sign for the Phillips Collection. I went there instead. It was wonderful. The afternoon went quickly.

The time in Washington was spent renting a uhaul, moving my daughter, helping her to get settled, and enjoying the city with her as my guide. It was good for a former city dweller to once again be in the thick of it.

Last chance to see it!

2009-04-10T09:22:00.000-07:00

In case you are in the Youngstown, Ohio area, you can catch an exhibit of my etchings at The Butler Institute of American Art. This show contains about forty of my etchings. It is an honor for me to have an exhibit of my work here. The Butler is the oldest art museum in the United States that features the work of American artists. Not often would I guarantee your satisfaction, but in this instance, I would. The galleries contain work by the famous (and not so famous) American artists from all eras.

It was necessary for me to frame all of the etchings that were included in the exhibit...a somewhat daunting task when you consider the amount of presentation work that I need to do in order to simply keep my art business going. Anna King was then working as my apprentice. She was simply amazing. She did all of the framing for this exhibit. During the months that she worked in my studio she became, in a sense, and extension of my brain. My studio is more organized now, and because of that, I am undoubtedly a better person!

In mid January, I delivered the framed work to the Butler. Denis Conley, who owns the Denis Conley Gallery in nearby Akron, allowed me to stay at his home. We went to the Diamond Grille (which is an institution in Akron). Denis is passionate about Italy and things Italian. In 2003, he organized an exhibit of my work at Galleria Ferrari in the city of Ferrara. He did all of the work. I simply had to show up for the opening. He sings opera. He has training as a singer. He stood up spontaneously by the bar at the Diamond Grille and sang an excerpt from an Italian opera's aria. It was memorable.

Having delivered the work to the Butler, I made the return trip, driving back to Wisconsin. On January 25th there was an opening of my exhibit in the Butler's Mesaros Gallery. This time, I traveled by air, flying into the Akron airport and once again staying with Denis Conley, and indulging in his kind hospitality. Throngs of people were at the Butler on the 25th. There was a regional art competition that was opening on that day. Lou Zona, the director invited me to this exhibit, where I invited the attendees to "come down and see my etchings". The Mesaros Gallery, by the way, is on the lower level of the museum.

My exhibit was scheduled to close on March 1st. The dates were extended. It will be hanging in the museum until April 19th. If you have not been to the Butler before, now is your chance.

Preparing for the Mount Horeb Spring Art Tour

2009-03-19T15:43:00.000-07:00

Hopefully, it will become part of my subconscious to post messages. My professional life is never dull. Each day seems to be packed with things to do. Last night there was a spot on "All things considered" about musicians who were taking things into their own hands and circumventing the standard channels of recording, producing and distributing their music. "Wait a minute", I thought. "That is how it always has been for me!" Of course, I hold with the highest regard the many people who have truly helped me and my career as an artist. There are, of course, the art galleries, who, knowing that there is not a ton of money to be made by selling my mostly small etchings, have featured my work in exhibits time and again. But, basically, it boils down to much time being spent just keeping on top of the professional side of things. There is more to it than meets the eye. These are the kinds of things that no one ever tells you about when you are a student. We learn as we go. I always am giving myself talks, encouraging myself, with the end result being a sort of unusual happiness with the uncertainty of things...a life on the edge where that which for many comes as a paycheck at the end of every two weeks, is for me is only a maybe. It is exciting. Honest.

One event that is coming up in my schedule is the Third Annual Mount Horeb Spring Art Tour (http://www.mhaaa.org/). It will be held on June 12, 13, and 14. This will be my second year as a participant. Last year was, to say the least, interesting. The road to Blue Mounds was torn up and under construction. There were also torrential rains on that weekend. I was amazed and completely surprised when, in spite of the conditions, very engaged and interested people actually appeared at my studio door! I am eager to participate again. So eager am I, that I canceled my participation in the Old Town Art Fair in Chicago. I have been an exhibitor in that event pretty much continuously since 1981. It is one of those art fairs that are truly an institution. Narrow 19th century streets make it logistically quite difficult to set up booths, etc. I love and will truly miss all of the energy that is there. Back to the spring art tour. There will be events leading up to it...not sure of what they will be, but there will be a preview exhibit at the Overture Center in Madison, which should be fun. ALSO....tomorrow evening there will be a pot luck get together of the participating artists and spouses. It will be held at my studio. Oh, oh...guess I better clean this place up. Jesi, who has been working twice a week as an intern at my studio, will come early and help with set up. If I have some presence of mind, I will grab my camera and take a shot or two of the attendees!

One year ago...

2009-02-26T15:06:00.000-08:00

Most exhibits of my work are in galleries that represent me. Sometimes, however, it is good to have an exhibit someplace where it is just for fun. Venues such as this often do not lead to sales of artwork, but have a certain allure simply because they are different.

Looking at my calendar, I realize that it was one year ago that I had an exhibit in the office of Wisconsin Lieutenant Governor Barbara Lawton. In case you are wondering, I don't have a special connection to the governor's office (even though I want to mention that we are on the same page politically). It was January 2008 when I got a call from Mikel Kelley who is an artist friend. He had finished having an exhibit of his ceramic work in Lawton's office. The artist who was scheduled to follow him with a photography exhibit canceled at the last minute. "Was I available or interested?" asked Mikel's voicemail. "If so, contact them now!"

A week or two later, there I was hanging the show with John Ribble, another artist friend. John is an art educator who has a wonderful aesthetic and sensibility with regards to not only creating his own artwork, but also to hanging the artwork of others. He also made me feel as though I was making the decisions. I saw through that, however. We hung the work in the staff and public room leading to and also in Lawton's office. It was after hours, and we went to have fish (a Wisconsin, Friday night phenomenon) at the Laurel Tavern in Madison.

The opening was on February 21, 2008. It was at the end of the work day...5:30 to 6:30 and was catered. Ms. Lawton was a kind host for the exhibit and said flattering things about my work to the assembled guests. I learned that we have some things in common. She is from a family of Norwegian immigrants as well. Her brother(s) also studied at Luther College in Decorah, Iowa. She described herself, however, as being the black sheep in her family, deciding to attended Gustavus Adolphus College ( and finally graduating from Lawrence University).

My trip to Iowa

2009-02-20T20:41:00.000-08:00

Bluff Country Artists Gallery from Spring Grove, Minnesota sent me an email a couple of weeks ago. They are interested in representing my etchings in their gallery. It is a stone's throw from northeastern Iowa. This part of Iowa is a special place for me. I went to college there and it is where I got my start as an artist. Living and having my studio in southern Wisconsin, it is not a major trip to travel to this area. I had been thinking about traveling to Decorah (the town in northeastern Iowa) and working on an etching idea that had been on my mind. I had arranged to be at the gallery in Spring Grove at 4PM. Arriving in Decorah shortly before noon, I went to the place where I would begin my new etching. It was cold...temperatures in the single digits. Making the appointment with the gallery, I did not realize that it would be like this. I had dressed in layers in an attempt to stay warm..longies and the whole nine yards...even three layers on my hands. I took my copper plate to the bridge that I had first seen as a wide eyed eighteen year old. It is still beautiful. I found a place to perch and taking out my black markers, began laying out the preliminary composition directly onto the plate. I love working like this. There seems to be an honesty to drawing directly from nature and directly onto the plate. This is not a typical way to start an etching. Usually the ground goes on first followed by drawing with an etching needle. Sometimes, however, it is good to be able to see exactly how the shapes will lay out on the plate. Black markers are no nonsense. When you make a mark, it is really there. I will look analytically at what I drew in Iowa yesterday...maybe over the course of a month or two. The place had been sitting in my minds eye for quite some time. Now it is important to keep it there and not forget about it. If I decide that I like what I drew in black, I will begin to scratch away at the plate with traditional (and some not so traditional) tools and techniques. I delivered work to the gallery in Spring Grove as scheduled. It is nice to be greeted by people who are eager to see you. I drove back to Wisconsin taking an alternate route...a scenic one. I drove along the Mississippi River on the Iowa side. Large Iowa bluffs were on my right, the mostly frozen river was on my left, with the Wisconsin bluffs looming in the distance. I crossed the river at a bridge in Lansing, Iowa. It was an old, narrow bridge (I love bridges in case you couldn't tell) made of steel girders. Trucks were instructed to maintain a 300 foot interval. Looking out my van window, I could see the lights of Lansing and the bluffs reflected in the sometimes open water. It was almost dark and it was beautiful. The trip was an adventure if only to me. I hope to share future (and maybe some past) adventures with you.