Oil Painters of America 34th National Exhibition at Herrig Center for the Arts

"Day Tripper" by Sean Witucki (Depew, NY) 

The new Herrig Center for the Arts (formerly Art Center Manatee) is now home to the 34th National Exhibit of the Oil Painters of America (OPA). The space is filled with light and showcases the 200+ works of these master artists beautifully. OPA is an organization dedicated to the preservation of representational art. With more than 3500 members, it's no surprise that the artists whose work was selected for this exhibit achieve that mission in very different ways. Read (but mostly look) on to see a few of the works in the show. 

"Day Tripper" by Sean Witucki was one of the first works to greet us. Wow. While boat motors aren't a subject that would typically draw my attention, the realism of this work did. I felt like you could lift this motor up, secure it to a fishing boat and head out for a day on the water. And that's exactly what Witucki was going for in this painting. Growing up in the Berkshires, he developed a love for the great outdoors to which this painting pays homage (in a slightly indirect way). For more examples of Witucki's work, click here. 

"Red Lips" by McGarren Flack (St. George, Utah)

It was the hairstyle of the woman in McGarren Flack's "Red Lips" that drew me in. It's just so cute. But as I looked more closely at the painting, I began to appreciate the detail in his work. Just look at the patterning on her blouse and the thin chain with three small silver balls and the letter A hanging from it. I'm curious about the meaning behind the letter. Is this the first initial of her name or does it have some deeper significance? It's up to the viewer to decide. 

My research on Flack revealed that he's known for quite different work than the one on display here -- paintings of emergency scenes. While the topic is a bit unusual, it makes sense once you know that Flack grew up with visions of becoming a doctor. His career path swerved from medicine to art after taking a drawing class to fulfill a college course requirement. Drawn from his work as a paramedic, his emergency scenes are pretty disturbing. He noted in an interview that while those works are satisfying to create, they aren't the type of painting most people want to hang in their homes. And so he balances that work with more marketable images such as "Red Lips." To see some of Flack's emergency scenes, click here. And for his website, click here.  

"Tibetan Plateau" by Tony Luo (Levittown, New York) 

"Tibetan Plateau" by Tong (Tony) Luo is a work I could easily imagine hanging in a museum. Luo is a master of chiarascuro, or the treatment of light and shading. (Think Rembrandt or Caravaggio.) The nuance this technique enabled him to achieve in his portrait of a Tibetan woman is truly impressive. 

Luo grew up in the Henan Province of China where his father taught traditional Chinese ink and brush painting. While Luo's style is wholly different, I wasn't surprised to learn he was introduced to art at an early age. Although Luo now lives in New York, his subject matter harkens back to his home. He spends at least two months each year in Tibet to rejuvenate his artistic spirit. 

To see more of Luo's work, click here. In addition to more paintings of almost regal Tibetan women. there are some works that are a bit titillating. I'd love to know more about this dichotomy.  

"Got Your Back" by Robin Cheers (Austin, Texas)

I'll leave you with "Got Your Back" by Robin Cheers. It's one of several works in the show that had a red dot on it indicating that it had been sold. Congrats, Robin! 

"Got Your Back" was one of the more impressionistic paintings in the exhibit. The work captures the feeling of controlled chaos in a commerical kitchen. So much movement! 

Cheers paints in alla prima style, meaning that she creates each painting in a single session. This style of painting requires the artist to paint "wet-on-wet," a special skill. It's a technique championed by Monet, whose work was ridiculed as creating a mere impression of a scene. This sense of immediacy is exactly what Cheers is going for in her work. Color me impressed. For Cheers' website, click here.

The Oil Painters of America 34th National Exhibition runs through June 27th, so time is short to see the show in person. It's well worth the trek to Bradenton. If you can't make it, you can click here to see the exhibit. Congrats to the Herrig Center for introducing people to the new space with such a special show. 

"My Friends" by Fredrik Backman

Fredrik Backman's "My Friends" is the best book I've read in ages. It's a story that's simultaneously heartbreaking and life affirming, devastating and beautiful. Sometimes it's even funny. It's Backman at the top of his craft. 

I made it to page three before marking a passage I particularly enjoyed. The scene is an old church turned art gallery where a painting is being auctioned off. A teenage girl stands in the midst of the potential bidders. She looks around, contemplating the crowd and listening in on their conversations. A coiffed woman comes back from the bathroom, horrified that there is graffiti on the walls. "But," someone ventures, "Do you think the graffiti is part of the exhibition? Do you think it's....art?" The women rush to their husbands to get their opinions. "Is there a price tag?" one asks. The women breathe a sigh of relief. Without a price tag, it's clearly not art. Crisis of taste averted.  

The collectors are there to bid on "The One of the Sea." It's blue and expensive. Louisa, our young art lover, is the only one who's noticed that in the midst of all that blue there's a pier on which three kids are sitting and dangling their feet over the water. In fact, it's that detail that captivated her when she saw a postcard of the painting years earlier. With just a few brushstrokes, the artist somehow managed to capture the deep friendship those teenagers shared. Louisa has carried that postcard around with her ever since, looking at it when she needs to have faith in the world (which is quite often). As the tale progresses, we learn the stories of those young friends (including the now dying artist) and of Louisa and her own best friend who died way too young. I was torn between speeding through the book and savoring every page. 

The story behind "The One of The Sea" was a throughline in the novel. It would take way too much space to explain how the artist (who's almost always called that) came into possession of his own painting after the auction and bequeathed it to Louisa. While the two had just met, the artist could immediately tell that she was one of them. She resisted accepting the gift. Its value was one consideration, but the more important reason was that she didn't feel worthy of owning it. Ted, one of the four friends, wanted to explain to her that the artist "didn't give her the painting because it was his inheritance; he gave it to her because he realized she was the inheritance. Art is what we leave of ourselves in other people. But he doesn't quite know how to say that." 

Fredrik Backman

And now it's time for a quick foray into the characters' backstories. Ted, the artist and their two friends came from families with little means and, except for Ted, families for whom raising children was not what I'd call their strong point. Louisa and her friend met in a foster care home where they laid awake at night in their makeshift beds with knives to protect themselves. It was the marks these similar upbringings left on the artist and Louisa that he immediately recognized in her. They weren't broken, exactly, but the world had done its best to do so. 

What moved me most about the story was the way the friends always supported one another. When Ted or the artist or their buddies Ali or Joar faced a difficult situation, one of them always said, "I love you and I believe in you." It sounds like a strange thing for one teenager to say to another. But when you've found your people and one of them needs you, what words could better express that you're there for them and have faith in them no matter what? Friends, as they say, are the family you choose. Fast forward to the present, when Louisa and Ted have been thrown together to figure out what to do with the painting. Suffice it to say that a road trip for the ages ensues. While they kind of drive each other crazy, it doesn't take them long to choose each other to be part of their own families. 

I loved "My Friends" from the first to the last sentence. Read it. And if you haven't read Backman's "Beartown" trilogy, I recommend that as well. Don't be put off by the fact that it might be characterized as "hockey literature." It's a life story. And if you want to cheat a little bit, the first book in the trilogy is streaming on HBO Max. 

Happy reading! 

"Vice & Virtue" at Art Center Sarasota

"The Flying Pig" by Marcos Caraval 

The theme of this year's Annual Juried Regional Show at Art Center Sarasota is "Vice & Virtue." The program states: "By definition, vice represents behaviors deemed morally wrong by society, while virtue embodies excellence and integrity. But in today's world, where do we draw the line?...Artists were challenged to explore the shifting boundaries of morality, shaped by cultural norms, religious beliefs and political landscapes. What defines good and evil? And perhaps more intriguingly, does a gray area exist between them?" It was interesting to see how the participating artists interpreted this theme. 

Marcos Caraval's "The Flying Pig" of course made me think of the expression "when pigs fly." Of course, Caraval's intention is much deeper. The genesis of the work is the fact that different cultures treat the lowly pig in dissimilar ways. In the Old Testament, the Israelites were forbidden to eat pigs because they were deemed unclean and, therefore, were associated with vices like greed and dirtiness. In other cultures, pigs are highly regarded. If you are Chinese and born in a Year of the Pig, you are considered likely to have luck and good fortune. Koreans associate pigs with happiness and hope. And the reflecting pool? To me, it's a symbol of the fact that the way we look at things is a reflection of our culture, history and traditions. I like it.  

"Strait Jacket/Evening Gown" by Bellamy Sorba

I was quite taken with Bellamy Sorba's "Strait Jacket/Evening Gown." Most obviously, Bellamy's work provides a commentary on the extent to which a woman will wear a dress that cannot possibly be comfortable or easy to move in in order to be seen as desirable. When I spoke with Bellamy, she noted that women can build their own cages by dressing in the way society dictates. But that's just the tip of the iceberg of the intention behind her work. 

The medium -- which is difficult to appreciate in the picture -- is shopping bags, most of which came from Target. What??!!! In yet another example of the way artists' brains work differently than mine, Bellamy realized that if she tears the bags into strips, she could make them into the equivalent of yarn. Not surprisingly, it's a time-consuming process. It takes approximately three hours to convert 50 plastic bags into a ball of yarn. At this rate, she would have spent 20+ hours just turning the 1200 bags that comprise this work into usable material. That's commitment. Then she knitted the yarn into small panels and wove them together to create the final piece. It's a bit of alchemy for sure. 

You might expect Bellamy's message behind the use of this unusual material to be highlighting environmental issues. And while that's one of her points, it's not her primary concern. Instead, the former retail worker's focus is on consumption. How much do we need? How frequently do we use the things we've purchased and for how long? Do consumers, like the woman who would wear a dress like this, end up being consumed by their desires? Lots to think about. For more of Bellamy's work (including purses available for purchase), click here. 

"Peels So Good (Circa 1944)" by Alexia Benavent-Rivera

I'll leave you with "Peels So Good (Circa 1944), one of three banana-related works by Alexia Benavent-Rivera in the show. What can I say? Ever since Marizio's Cattelan's "Comedian" made its debut at Art Basel, bananas in art catch my eye. The works were created as part of Benavent-Rivera's MFA thesis project at FSU. Happily, I don't have to guess what she was thinking about when working on this series. Instead, I'll quote to you from her description. 

"Identity and cultural background are huge driving forces in my art practice. I am Puerto Rican, Panamanian and Ukrainian, and the diasporas endured by these groups have strong histories that I refer to in my work. Recently I have been focusing on the Banana Wars in Central and South America, a time of brutal greed and American imperialism that too often gets brushed under the rug. The effects of these times are still felt today by millions of people in Central and South America, so I work to create awareness of the issue and hold a space for those affected.

The rotten banana exterior lampoons how this bright and sweet fruit forged the backbone of a dozen corrupt regimes propped up by imperialist corporations. The animating force comes not from the long since sold off banana flesh but from an inner layer of frogs, representing the people of these nations. The poses are emblematic of Chiquita Banana company ads, which played up the exoticism of Latin American women to sell their products." 

Benavent-Rivera's other works -- one a photograph and the other a sculpture -- are of partially peeled bananas. They are quite provocative, especially the ceramic piece that includes a garter belt. I get the message behind that one and will never look at a banana quite the same way again. For more on Benavent-Rivera and her work, click here. 

"Vice & Virtue" continues at Art Center Sarasota through August 2nd. It's an interesting and thought-provoking show. 

Visiting McLeod Plantation: A Lesson on Slavery

The Big House at McLeod Plantation

Charleston is a beautiful place with great food and great art. But there's no doubt that the city will first and foremost be associated in my mind with our country's history of slavery. Our tour of the McLeod Plantation, led by the former director of the Old Slave Mart Museum, was beyond sobering. We later learned that tours at McLeod are told more from the slaves' perspective than at other plantations in the area. This makes particular sense because McLeod is an International Site of Conscience, a coalition of organizations committed to "Preserving Memory, Promoting Truth, Pursuing Justice." 

The McLeod Big House has an interesting history, having been occupied by Confederate forces during much of the Civil War and by Union forces after the War ended. The Union forces included two regiments of African American soldiers who served in the U.S. Colored Troops. Somewhat ironically, following the War's conclusion, the Big House served as the home of the Freedmen's Bureau for the James Island District of Charleston. The former slave quarters were used as homes for freedmen and their families.  

Each 300 square foot structure was home to between 8-20 people.  

The house was much more modest at the time. It wasn't until the 1920s that the Greek Revival style entrance with its inviting porch and stately columns was built. The modification was made in part so the house would look more like the romanticized image of a plantation home, making it easier for the McLeods to capitalize on plantation tourism. 

The changes also relate to the family's adherence to the Lost Cause narrative; i.e., that the Civil War was about states' rights rather than slavery. Conveniently, if you entered through this new and improved side of the home, you could avoid seeing those unsightly reminders of slavery like the slave quarters and the former cotton gin house. The family also planted trees on the grounds behind the house to further shield their view. For more on this aspect of the McLeod Plantation, click here. 

Interior of a "dependency," as many still call the slave quarters

We learned some details about the lives of two of the dozens of slaves who lived and worked at McLeod Plantation. The first was Isabelle Pinckney. Isabelle was given by the Pinckneys to the McLeods to serve first as a wet nurse and then a nanny to their daughter Annie. The fact that she was mulatto was a factor in her selection for this role. The lighter the skin, the more acceptable it was for you to interact with the family and guests. 

You might have noticed that Isabelle's last name was the same as that of her enslavers. This was common practice by plantation owners as both a means of noting their ownership of the individual and erasing his or her past identity and origin.

Isabelle lived in the attic of the Big House so she could be close to her ward. It is believed that she was sexually assaulted there by one of the McLeods. None of her people would have been around to help or even hear her if she cried out. Her son Daniel was born at McLeod and was able to "pass" for Caucasian. 

Brick in outbuilding with fingerprint of child estimated to be 6-10
 years old. Charleston was also home to brickmaking plantations. 

Then there's the story of Leah, the youngest of the enslaved people at McLeod. Leah was marched with her parents more than 50 miles to Charleston from their former home. For the journey, her father's wrist or leg would have been shackled with chains to another man's appendage while Leah and her mom would have been similarly manacled to another female with a rope. Once in Charleston, they were sold to separate purchasers at Ryan's Slavemart. (Note: It is believed that her family was reunited after the end of the war.)

Leah was bought by the McLeods to serve as a companion for their children. She would have slept on the floor of their bedroom or in the attic with Isabelle. Without Isabelle, her isolation would have been complete. 

Ginning mill in Charleston

We also learned about the daily lives of the slaves at McLeod who didn't serve the family directly. The McLeods made their money growing Sea Island cotton. Planting, tending to and harvesting the crop was grueling work. Then the cotton had to be "ginned" before it could be sold. (This is when you separate the cotton fibers from the seeds, stems, etc.) The ginning process for converting raw cotton into Sea Island cotton was more labor intensive than ginning it into upland cotton. The end result was cotton with a silkier feel that could be sold for four times the price of upland cotton. With a ready source of labor, the choice was an easy one for the McLeods.

The men, women and children enslaved by the McLeods would have worked from "can't see until can't see" in the fields; i.e., from before dawn until after dusk. Every worker was expected to pick 100 pounds of cotton each day. The crop required tending almost year-round. Even during rainy season the slaves would be out in the fields making sure the cotton didn't wash away. As our guide told us, they "ate, drank, gave birth and died in the fields." 

It is estimated that there were close to 4 million enslaved people in the United States in 1860, almost ten percent of the population. I left the McLeod Plantation with a clearer picture of the lives of those poor souls. Hearing these stories where they took place was much more impactful than reading about them in a book or watching them on a screen. It wasn't a happy outing, but I'm glad we made learning more about this part of our country's history a part of our trip. 

Touring Charleston by Carriage

I know, I know -- it sounds very touristy to do a tour of Charleston on a horsedrawn carriage. And it was. But there's a reason these tours have become a tradition for people visiting the city. It's a fun (if a bit malodorous) way to learn a bit about the city's history. And so Andrea and I started our girlfriend getaway with a tour given by the Old South Carriage Company. Here are some tidbits I learned along the way.

--While the horses aren't "unionized" (as our guide told us), they are treated well. They are fed 40,000 calories of hay and whatever else horses eat (carrots?) a day. They are given plenty of water and -- here's a surprise -- two pints of Guinness. (The Guinness helps the animals sweat, which cools their bodies down.) They get at least 180 days/year off and spend their free time on a 65 acre farm where they have regularly scheduled dental appointments and massages. Sure, the horses are still working, but it's an easier life than their daily routines were on the Amish farms where they previously lived. 

--Given the number of carriage companies in Charleston, you might think pedestrians crossing the street would have to watch carefully where they step. But the City has thought about that issue; hence, the Equine Sanitation Department. Carriage drivers send a text with a GPS marker of each spot where the horse has done its business. Then Doody Calls, the city's contractor, comes out and collects the waste and/or hoses down the area. This was a great technological advancement over the previous system of dropping half a rubber ball with a little flag poking out and calling in the location to the lucky folks responsible for clean-up. 

Old Slave Mart Museum 

--Remnants of slavery are ever present in Charleston. Take, for instance, the Old Slave Mart Museum. The building was formerly the home of a slave auction site. It was part of a complex that included a barracoon (an enclosure in which slaves could be held), a slave jail proper, a kitchen and a "dead house" where bodies were stored. It is estimated that more than 10,000 slaves were auctioned off as chattel at this site. While this is a mindboggling number, it's no surprise given that 40% of all enslaved Africans arrived through the port on Charleston Harbor. The International African American Museum is located at the site of the former arrival point. 

Slave badge

--Slavery in Charleston was task-based. Under this "progressive" form of slavery, slaves were given a list of tasks each day that they were required to complete. Once those jobs were done, slaves not deemed a flight risk were allowed to spend time with friends and family or to go to the market to purchase goods or sell items they had made. It appears that the enslaved were typically allowed to keep the money they earned in this manner. 

--Many slaveowners hired out their slaves to other plantation and business owners. Each worker was required by the City of Charleston to wear a badge specifying that the individual lived in Charleston, his or her occupation, the badge number and the year issued (with annual renewals required). This practice was not only an identifier; it was also a revenue source for the city. And if a slave fled, the information on the badge was included in ads seeking his or her return. For more information on this practice, click here. 

Church and Union 

--The term "hushpuppy" has several possible origin stories, but they all refer to cornbread circles carried in pockets to be fed to dogs as a means of distraction. In our guide's version, slaves fed the food to dogs so they wouldn't jump on them and muddy their clothing. Other stories refer to runaway slaves feeding the treat to dogs so they wouldn't bark and give away their location. Ditto for Confederate soldiers hiding from nearby Union soldiers. "Hush, puppies," you can imagine them saying. 

--Charleston is known as the Holy City because it boasts 187 churches of various denominations. (This number includes one synogogue and a Hindu temple.) It seems a bit ironic for the city to have been known as a beacon of religious tolerance while simultaneously enslaving people, but the world was and continues to be a complicated place. Surprisingly (not), Andrea and I didn't grace the interior of any churches in use as such, but we did dine at Church and Union. It was delicious if a bit rushed. (Seriously, our food was out approximately three minutes after we ordered it.) 

The interior of the restaurant is very cool, with all 12,035 words of "The Art of War" written across its vaulted ceiling by artist Jon Norris. Much of the text is difficult to read due to its placement, but the phrase "There Is Only We" is fairly prominent. I take it as a message of hope. 

Our carriage tour was a great way to get an overview of Charleston's history. As a bonus, you pick up the carriages right by Charleston City Market, a four block long covered market with all kinds of goodies to take home as souvenirs. For the record, neither of us brought home a basket, but we did our bit to help the local economy.  

Next up: Our visit to McLeod Plantation 

"Kimono: The Triumph of Japanese Dress" at the St. Pete MFA

Furisade Set and Obi (1927)

The St. Petersburg Museum of Fine Arts is now home to an exhibit showcasing more than 100 kimonos from the late Edo period (1603-1867) through the Showa era (1926-1989). The word "kimono" translates into "something to wear." While the phrase makes me think of an old pair of jeans and a tshirt, the kimonos on display are about the furthest thing you can imagine from my go-to clothing choice. Each kimono is not only a work of art; it also provides a window into cultural traditions very different from my own. 

Take, for instance, this furisade set and obi from Fuji Musume (which translates into "Wisteria Maiden.") Fuji Musume is a dance that evolved from the Kabuki tradition. You probably know that Kabuki has been performed almost exclusively by men since it originated nearly four centuries ago. But did you know that this tradition stemmed from the fear that female dancers would be too provocative for male audience members? Insert your own thoughts about that concept here. But I digress.

In this particular play, a man is walking down a tree-lined street and comes upon a painting of a "wisteria maiden." She embodies the romance and beauty associated with the wisteria plant, represented by the white flowers in the kimono. While the man stands admiring the work, the maiden becomes infatuated with him and steps out of the painting so they can be together. Sadly, it's a story of unrequited love, and the woman eventually returns to her place in the work of art. Interestingly, paintings of the wisteria maiden were often sold as good luck charms for newly-married couples. I think there's a bit of a disconnect there. 

 

Boy's Miyamairi Kimono (first half of 20th c.)

The style of this kimono also has significance. "Furisade" translates into "swinging sleeves." This type of kimono is still worn by young, unmarried women on formal occasions, including on their "coming of age" day (typically when they turn 20). The sleeves range from 33" to 45"; the longer the sleeves, the greater the chance of love and happiness. This is because the wearer can use those swinging sleeves to catch good luck and prosperity. There's a lot packed into this one piece of clothing. 

Children, too, traditionally wore kimonos and still do for special occasions. I particularly liked this miyamairi with its smiling dragon. The word "miyamairi" means "shrine visit," which is a traditional Shinto rite of passage for infants. A month or so following a child's birth, the family takes the baby to a shrine of the local guardian deity to give thanks for a safe delivery and to pray for a healthy life for the child. Historically, only the child's father and fraternal grandparents participated in this ceremony because the mother was presumed to be overwrought with post-partum grief. Hmm. You might wonder, as I did, how a kimono like this would fit an infant. The answer is that the baby is swaddled in the kimono as if it were a blanket.  

Man's juban (first half of 20th century) 

The owner of the kimono shown here might be a bit embarrassed to have it displayed for all to see. It is a male juban intended to be worn under a man's more formal kimono. Think of it as a type of underwear. 

Jubans are typically made of silk or a lightweight cotton that would be comfortable against your skin. The juban worn by men were often more decorative than the kimonos worn over them. 

This juban depicts Futabayama Sadaji, a sumo wrestler who won 69 consecutive bouts. Although his reign ended in 1939, it's a record that still stands today. The art of sumo (essentially wrestling) began in Japan as a Shinto ritual to entertain the gods, who are believed to live in the dohyo or ring. Each dohyo represents purity and consecration, and a new one is made from clay for each tournament. Before a bout, the surface of the dohyo is covered with sand and the wrestlers throw salt on it. It's another part of the purification process. For more on the rituals of sumo wrestling, click here.  

Before I sign off, I would be remiss not to mention that all of the kimonos in the exhibit are on loan from private collections in the Tampa Bay area. What a surprise -- and treat -- it would be to walk into a home and find some of these gorgeous articles of clothing on display. Thanks to the generosity of these collectors for sharing their passion with their community.

"Kimono: The Triumph of Japanese Dress" runs through June 8 and is well worth a visit. There are still a couple of events relating to the exhibit coming up. The talk on June 7th with one of the collectors looks particularly interesting. Click here for more information. Perhaps I'll see you there. 

Touring the Kotler-Coville Glass Pavilion with Curator Marissa Hershon

"Rose Dress" by Karen LaMonte (2002)

The Kotler Coville Pavilion at Ringling Museum opened to the public in 2018. And when I say "to the public," I mean it. Admission to the Pavilion is free, providing an opportunity for a discrete art outing for Asolo Rep theatergoers and art lovers a bit short on time. Be warned, though. You're going to want to linger.   

I recently had the opportunity to tour the Pavilion with Marissa Hershon, curator of the Museum's glass collection. Hershon also serves as the curator of Ca d'Zan and Decorative Arts. Ca d'Zan is of course the Ringlings' former home, and Hershon's job of maintaining the property got bigger after last year's hurricane season. Repairs are still ongoing. The Museum's Decorative Arts collection contains more than 6,000 objects, many of which are displayed in the 36,000 square foot Ca d'Zan. I'd love to dig into that collection with her sometime. But the topic at hand was the art glass on display in the Pavilion. It is stunning. 

The Museum's glass collection includes more than 400 pieces. While a number of the works were donated by the Kotlers and the Covilles, the Museum has added to the original collection and continues to do so. Approximately 60 works are on display at any given time, with at least 10% being rotated each year. The next rotation will happen in June, and Hershon promised the changes will be noticeable.

"Yellow Amulet" by Laura Donefer (2012)

Curating an exhibit involves more than just thinking about a theme or what works complement each other. Hershon also considers the identity of the artists whose work is being displayed. The goal is to feature artists across the spectrum -- young and old, established and new to the scene, men and women. For today, I'll focus on work by some of the female artists in the collection. 

Laura Donefer's "Yellow Amulet" is an example of a work of art that is both beautiful and holds a powerful story. Let's start with the name of the work. An amulet is an ornament intended to bring protection against evil or danger. Okay. Then there's the color yellow that references the yellow Star of David-shaped badge that Jewish people were required to wear in Nazi Germany. Yes, this work has a Holocaust theme embedded in it. 

The Holocaust was more than just a history lesson for both Donefer and Margot Triest-Coville. Donefer had relatives who were held captive in concentration camps and eventually murdered there. Coville lost her own parents to Auschwitz. Determined to save other families from suffering a similar tragedy, Coville led ten Jewish children across the border from France into the safety of Switzerland. She was a mere 13 years old at the time. These stories, as well as the stories of all Holocaust victims and survivors, are embedded in "Yellow Amulet." Wow. 

Not all of Donefer's work is so heavy. While a tiny bit off point, I can't resist mentioning that Donefer has curated the Murano Glass Society Fashion Show multiple times. This isn't your run-of-the-mill fashion show with models strutting down a catwalk. Instead, imagine a parade of gondolas ferrying people wearing imaginative costumes made of glass down Venice's canals. How cool is that? To see some pictures from the 2018 Festival, click here. And for a bit more on Donefer, click here. I would love to meet her. 

"Bridesmaid Returns to the Shore
of Her Full Moon" By Amber Cowan (2019)

"Bridesmaid Returns to the Shore of Her Full Moon" by Amber Cowan is a work Hershon brought into the collection. She calls it a "masterpiece." While we know that size doesn't matter, at 32' tall, 22' wide and 9-1/2' deep, it's one of the larger works in the collection. The depth of the work is particularly striking and is dictated by Cowan's process.   

Cowan is known for using salvaged glass in her work. In this case, the glass came from Fenton Art Glass Co. of West Virginia. The company was in the glass-making business for more than 100 years and was known for the innovative colors of its wares. The striking Periwinkle Blue caught both Cowan's and Hershon's eyes. 

To create this work, Cowan used a flameworking torch to melt the glass and shape it into flowers, leaves, feathers and, a bit mysteriously, marbles. Hershon noted that while made in the 21st century, "Bridesmaid" has a distinctly Rococo feel. (As I'm sure you recall, "Rococo" works of art and architecture were known for their dramatic, ornamental and, dare I say, busy style.) In the midst of the garden stands a girl looking at a full moon. She is the bridesmaid for which the piece is titled and was also made by Fenton Art Glass. If you look closely you'll see that a hummingbird is pecking at the moon. What it's trying to achieve is up to you to decide. For a better image of this work, click here. And for more on Cowan, click here. 

"Enrico's Walls" by Judi Elliott (2018) 

I'll leave you with a look at "Enrico's Walls" by Judi Elliott. As the first work that Hershon acquired for the collection, it has a special place in her heart. Hershon acknowledged that the piece looks somewhat simple on its face. But as we know, appearances can be deceiving. 

Elliott is an Australian artist whose work is inspired by architecture. More specifically, her art pays homage to the buildings designed by architect Enrico Taglietti. And why not? Elliott lived in an "Enrico House" for many years. She likened the experience to living in a work of art. 

While we can't see it here, "Enrico's Walls" has a different composition on the back with darker hues. It's a metaphor for a house with an exterior and an interior. Or, if we want to go deeper, it's like each of us with the face we show to the world and our inner selves. Elliott's work is also inspired by Jungian psychology which, according to AI, "emphasizes the importance of the unconscious mind and its role in personal growth and psychological wholeness." I'll leave that for you to consider, but I like the fact that this work, like others in the Ringling's collection, can be appreciated on different levels. As the saying goes, it's more than just a pretty face. For more of Elliott's Taglietti-inspired work, click here. 

Thanks to Hershon for sharing some of her favorite works in the collection with me. Our time together was both informative and fun, and I hope I get the chance to do it again after the June rotation. For my previous blogs about the Kotler-Coville Pavilion itself and Karen LaMonte (whose "Rose Dress" opens this post), click here and here. And while the works are of course best to see in person, you can click here for images of what's currently on display. Happy viewing!