Spring Art Tour

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

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...

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

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!

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.