Redtree Times

Moonlight Quartet— Part of Eye in the Sky at West End Gallery

Spirit of the midnight dream,
What is now upon thy wing ?
Earth sleeps in the moonlight beam ;
O’er that sleep what wilt thou fling ?

–Letitia Elizabeth Landon, The Spirit of Dreams, 1827

This is Moonlight Quartet, one of the paintings that directly refer in content and tone to the theme of my current show, Eye in the Sky, now hanging at the West End Gallery. The moon here casts a calm and watchful eye over the landscape, having a silent conversation with the crows who, in their own way, are eyes in the sky.

Where the moon is the eye of the ethereal, they are the eyes of that which is earthy.

One of the things that attracts me to this piece, a 24″ by 18″ canvas, is the way the tree and the path (or you might see it as a stream which is just fine) echo the rhythm and flow of the bands of color that make up the sky. It’s as though they are all originate and are built from the same pattern.

Perhaps the pattern the Eye in the Sky sees as it looks down on it all.

There’s a lot I like about this piece and the others from this show painted in this style. They instantly emit a feeling, one that you don’t have to search for within it. It’s right there. I also greatly enjoy the process of painting these particular works. It’s a very meditative process, one that has me setting down a pattern then constantly going back over it until it reaches its final state.

Like continuously following the path of labyrinth, over and over again. Each time through reveals more and more.

One hopes that this is the same for looking at it, that more is revealed with each new view.

I suppose that is the dream for any artist’s work, right?

Let’s wrap this up this morning with a rendition from Kronos Quartet of a song, Marquee Moon, from the 70’s band Television. Led by Tom Verlaine, Television was what I would call smooth punk, less raw and a little more refined in its musicality and lyricism than some of the punk bands that might come to mind. Kronos, as always, does a great job with this piece.

Maestro— Now at the West End Gallery, Corning

Go forth under the open sky, and list
To Nature’s teachings.

–William Cullen Bryant, Thanatopsis

I am often asked, especially at show openings, which of the paintings there might be my favorite. My answer is always the same, that every piece there has some reason for being there and has something in it that creates a spark within me.

Every piece is a favorite in that it is what it should be. Finding that special quality in each piece is something I wish could be applied to people in a better way.

Of course, there are paintings that always grab my eye a little quicker than others. It might be a color or contrast or a shape or form. Or the light within it. Any number of things having to do with its surface attraction.

But that attraction only lasts so long as there is something to be found beyond the surface. It’s kind of like dealing with handsome people whose beauty is sometimes only skin deep. Their attractiveness often leaves unless they have some inner beauty as well. In painting, this inner beauty might come in the form of an emotional reaction or a sense of symbolic or personal meaning. It doesn’t even have to be an identifiable quality.

Maybe I should just use my go-to phrase for those times when I struggle to describe some nebulous quality: It might just have a sense of rightness.

That’s how this new painting, Maestro, from my current West End Gallery show strikes me. From the time it was painted, it was one of those pieces with a surface beauty that immediately grabbed my eye. But I soon sensed that it had much more going on in it.

The Red Tree quickly became a conductor standing over and leading the orchestra that is the Red Roofs. Or a teacher giving a lesson before a class. Both are maestros, masters who teach and lead by example.

Maybe moral or ethical lessons. I don’t know for sure though my first response was that the Red Tree, as a symbol of Nature, was teaching the human race the many lessons to be gleaned from Nature.

How accepting we are of these lessons is up for debate.

It’s one of those paintings that attracts me and keeps me attracted. It has that sense of rightness.

Here’s a classic from Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young from 1970. It fits the subject and also has that sense of rightness. Here’s Teach Your Children.

Thunder is good, thunder is impressive; but it is lightning that does the work.

–Mark Twain, In Letter (1908)

Had a little excitement yesterday at the studio though I wasn’t present for the event that caused it all.

While we were in town doing a few errands, a storm came through with heavy rain accompanied by thunder and lightning. We got home just a few minutes after the rain had stopped. I made my way to the studio and, as I climbed the back steps, my nose caught a waft of wood smoke.

It was nothing new since we had had a number of days filled with the smoky aroma from the Canadian wildfires but this felt like something else. It would have been odd for any neighbor to have a fire burning at that time on a weekday, especially after a storm. Decided I better investigate.

Going around the back of the studio, I spotted some smoke among the tops of the stand of trees that are about 60-70 feet from the end of the studio. Drawing closer, I could hear the crackling of fire then spotted the tree. It was one of the big white pines that are abundant on the property. This one had two trunks and running down the one nearest the studio there was a slash with fire flaring out of each end and smoldering embers between.

There were large chunks of the trunk littering the ground which was evidence of a lightning strike. I had seen this a number of times before including on another white pine not far from this where, after a lightning strike, I located chunks from the tree that had been blown 50-60 feet from the tree by the explosion that occurs when the lightning superheats the sap and moisture within the tree.

The fire department was called and they came promptly and doused the poor old tree. Unfortunately, the firefighters provided some excitement of their own when their larger truck hit the silty side of my studio driveway, sliding off and settling at an uncomfortable angle with one of its rear wheels off the ground. This also blocked the driveway completely, trapping the several fire vehicles already there until a large tractor trailer tow truck came to extract it. Thankfully, there were no other emergency calls in our area while the firefighters were held captive at the studio.

Finally, with the tanker freed and satisfied that the struck tree was no longer a threat to the trees or forest canopy surrounding it–which was my concern since we are surrounded by forest– the fire team left. Many thanks to the prompt reaction of the Town & Country Fire Department. Good guys and gals.

The tree now has a deep charred hollow running up it. It will have come down in the coming days since the portion above it, which is at least 40-50 feet, is weighted in a way which could send it in a couple of different directions, toward the studio or power lines, if it were to snap and fall. And with the damage to the lower trunk that is more of a when than an if.

It’s powerful stuff, that lightning. It is like a sonic reminder that nature is big and you are small. Our neighbors said that the lightning strike had made them nearly jump from their seats and if you’ve ever been near a lightning strike, you know that sound. Here’s a song from 50+ years ago that I haven’t heard in quite some time. Seems to fit. This is Chi Coltrane with Thunder and Lightning.

A Song For the Eye— At West End Gallery

The melancholy river bears us on. When the moon comes through the trailing willow boughs, I see your face, I hear your voice and the bird singing as we pass the osier bed. What are you whispering? Sorrow, sorrow. Joy, joy. Woven together, like reeds in moonlight.

–Virginia Woolf, The String Quartet (1921)

When I finished this small painting (8″ by 8″ on canvas) for my current West End Gallery show the title that came to mind was A Song For the Eye. The eye, symbolized by the sun/moon, is the theme and included in the title of the show, Eye in the Sky, and the violinist seems to be serenading the moon here. The ribbons of the night sky provide a visual backing rhythm.

But I also thought the painting’s title also referred to this painting and others, as silent visual representations of music. I believe that paintings that reach out to people do so in much the same way as music, having rhythm, flow, and tone.

I think its title works in both ways and I like that.

Here’s piece from violinist Joshua Bell that I think fits well with this painting and has a similar title. It’s Song to the Moon from the 1901 opera, Rusalka, from Antonin Dvorak. It’s a good way to kick off the week.

Jubilee Waltz– At the West End Gallery

She was ready to deny the existence of space and time rather than admit that love might not be eternal.

—Simone de Beauvoir, The Mandarins (1954)

While I wanted to share another painting from my current West End Gallery show I couldn’t end this week without taking notice that Tony Bennett had died this week at the age of 96.

He was the ultimate interpreter of the Great American songbook. There’s a lot to be said about him and his music, most of which has been said in the last few days. I very much enjoyed his music, which was enhanced by his constant smile and evident geniality. Never read or heard a word from anyone that spoke ill of the man in any way.

The world will miss Tony Bennett.

For this week’s Sunday Morning Music, I am featuring one of my favorite renditions, among many, from Mr. Bennett was from his 1993 album, Steppin’ Out. It was a tribute album to the songs performed by Fred Astaire in his films and the song selected, He Loves and She Loves, was from his 1957 film with Audrey Hepburn, Funny Face. The film was an adaptation of a George Gershwin stage musical that Astaire, along with his sister, Adele, had starred in when it premiered in 1927. The film and the play are not alike in any way, having completely different plotlines. They do, however share four songs, one of which is He Loves and She Loves.

It’s probably not a song you’ve heard a lot and I’m sure it wasn’t one that was played to mark Mr. Bennett’s death, but it remains one of my favorites by him. Plus, it seems to work well with the painting from the West End show shown here, Jubilee Waltz, one of my Baucis & Philemon pieces.

Give a listen and see for yourself.

Waiting For the Light– At the West End Gallery

Reality cannot be found except in One single source, because of the interconnection of all things with one another.

–Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (1646-1716)

Excellent opening last at the West End Gallery. Many thanks to all who came out and special thanks to Jesse and Linda Gardner at the gallery for the hard work put forth in making it come out so well.

It was a busy night with a very good crowd with faces toward the work, which is my barometer for how well the work is engaging with the attendees. If people are standing in the inward facing circles and not looking at the walls, then I haven’t done my job well enough. It was great to see many old friends, some who I had not seen in several years, as well as a sizable number of new folks including some who had been collecting my work for a while. Had a number of good conversations, though they were much more abbreviated than I would like due to the lack of time and the number of folks that I needed to speak with.

It was, overall, just a fine evening. Hey, I was even gifted with some great dill pickles! How can you beat that?

One of the things that I have missed during the pandemic years was the interaction with viewers of my work and the feedback they give. Their views on the work often provide new perspectives which, in turn, can sometime change how I see a piece. It’s as though they can sometimes see the work clearer than I.

And that is exciting for me.

I had such a moment last night. I was approached by a lovely woman named Angelique who told me she was visiting Corning with her sister. They had spent the day going up and down Market Street, in and out of the museums and shops. She told me she had been drawn into the gallery by my work in the window during one of her trips and found herself entranced by the Red Tree. She told herself she had to come back during the opening to ask more about the Red Tree, even though she came without her sister who was worn out from their busy day.

She approached and asked me what the meaning was behind the Red Tree. I explained how it had come about and the several things it had come to symbolize for myself and others who shared their views on it.

She asked if I wanted to hear her thoughts on it. I said that I would love that.

She said simply, “It’s the Root.”

It stunned me a bit because the word set off all sorts of connections in my mind, as though it was catalyst for organizing frayed bits and pieces into a coherent concept. It made sense instantly.

I told her I liked that very much then she asked if wanted to know why she thought it was the Root. I said that nothing could please me more.

She explained that the Red Tree was almost always on a mound (she’s correct in this) which to her was like a root mound where you see only the plant above ground but below the earth its roots run deep and wide, creating and feeding everything– the houses, fields, etc.– that surrounds it.

It was the Root of all our connections to this world.

As I said, I was stunned. Angelique (don’t know if the spelling is right) had never saw my work nor read my blog but in a short time had cut through everything to see what was at the core– or root– of the work. I had never thought of the Red Tree’s roots being the unifying agent in this work and it made me look at every piece a bit differently. Maybe with even a bit more appreciation, if that is possible.

It made a good night even better. Thank you so  much, Angelique. Glad you stumbled upon the West End Gallery yesterday.

And again, many thanks to all who came out to the West End Gallery last night. It was more than appreciated.

Eye of Silence— Now at West End Gallery

Silence is the element in which great things fashion themselves.

–Maurice Maeterlinck, The Treasure of the Humble (1896)

The exhibit Eye in the Sky opens today at the West End Gallery in Corning, NY. It is my 22nd solo show at the gallery that gave me my start as a painter and probably my 63rd or 64th solo show altogether, counting other gallery shows. I’ve lost count and it doesn’t really matter.

Every show has its constants, the familiar aspects that come from an artist’s singular voice. My shows certainly have the Red Trees and Red Roofs, the rolling landscapes, the linework, and the deep colors and textures that are part and parcel of my artistic voice.

My little world of silence.

This show is very much about that silence and the constant witness that the sun/moon bears on it as well as the wisdom that is often imparted from that silence.

That sounds like it could be a very dry show. However, I believe it is actually a joyful show, one that celebrates the unity of all things. A union that exists without spoken language, that transmits its message and emotion within the silence.

But that’s just me. You make up your own mind about it. Your decision.

The show opens officially today at the West End Gallery with an Opening Reception that runs from 5-7 PM. I will be in attendance to answer questions or just say hello. Or we could stand there in silence looking at one another, just to maintain the theme of the show.

Again, your decision. In this situation, I would prefer to chat with you though you are not required to talk with me. You can examine the show and all the other marvelous work in the gallery, have a wonderful treat from the Old World Cafe, and take in some great music from harpist Meredith Kohn Bocek in the Upstairs Gallery.

Hope you can make it in.

You can preview the show on the West End Gallery website by clicking here.

Eye in the Sky– Coming to the West End Gallery

In the Eye– Now at West End Gallery

The spring without a leaf to toss, bare and bright like a virgin fierce in her chastity, scornful in her purity, was laid out on fields wide-eyed and watchful and entirely careless of what was done or thought by the beholders.

–Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse

I always have a problem in choosing which pieces to highlight here in the days right before an opening. I want them to strongly emit the theme that particular show. Since the exhibit opening tomorrow at the West End Gallery is titled Eye in the Sky, this new smaller painting made my decision this morning much easier.

It is titled In the Eye.

The title is partly taken from the saying beauty is in the eye of the beholder, something which is hard to argue with. That’s the basis for all of art. But, given the show’s title with its emphasis on the sun/moon serving as an ever vigilant and silent witness as well as a source of cryptic wisdom, I saw the crows here as being in the eye of the beholding moon.

But it also referred to the eyes of the crows, who in much the same way as the sun/moon, serve as witness to the natural world and humans around which they reside.

There are a number of things in this piece that stand out for me. The color of the sky around the moon has the feel of the dream from which I derived the show’s title. It gives the moon that effect of it being an eye looking through a hatch which is the break it creates in the dense cloud bank before it. The clouds themself have a slate grayness that I seldom employ. But here it serves as a wonderful contrast to the the light around the beholding Eye as well as the vivid orange of the field in the foreground and the icy blue from fields in the mid-ground.

As always, that’s my read on it. You do what you will with it. You are the beholder here.

I have included a Brandi Carlile song from several years back below, mainly for the title but also because it’s just a lovely tune. It’s called The Eye.  Not the same eye mentioned here, instead referring to the eye of a hurricane. Doesn’t matter to me though. Give a listen, if you’re so inclined.

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Eye in the Sky, my 22nd annual solo show at the West End Gallery is now hanging and is available for previews. The show opens tomorrow, Friday, July 21, with an Opening Reception from 5-7 PM. I will be there for questions, comments, or insults, if that’s what you really want to do. Hope to see you there!

Humility– At West End Gallery

“He that has been a servant
Knows more than priests and kings,
But he that has been an ill servant,
He knows all earthly things.

“Pride flings frail palaces at the sky,
As a man flings up sand,
But the firm feet of humility
Take hold of heavy land.

“Pride juggles with her toppling towers,
They strike the sun and cease,
But the firm feet of humility
They grip the ground like trees.”

-G.K. Chesterton, The Ballad of the White Horse

This is a new painting from my Eye in the Sky exhibit now hanging at the West End Gallery in Corning. Called Humility, it’s an 11″ by 23″ painting on paper, matted and framed in a 16″ by 28″ hand-built frame.

This painting is in line with the theme of the show but is also an anomaly, with its gray and muted tones and very simple composition. Much of the show features stronger colors and textures as well as more elaborate design. This piece almost feels like a palate cleanser.

I struggled for a bit with its title as I wasn’t sure what I was reading in it even though it seemed to be speaking directly to me. The scale of the tree and the house made the central figure here seem small by comparison and that was what caught my imagination. It was this idea of our smallness before the largeness of nature (the tree), history (the house), and the universe (the watchful eye of the sun.)

The figure making its way through this immensity is humbled in the comparison yet is grounded in the knowledge that it has a path to follow, a part to play.

It is what it is, no more and no less. And that is good enough.

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Eye in the Sky, my 22nd annual solo show at the West End Gallery is now hanging and is available for previews. The show opens on Friday, July 21, with an Opening Reception from 5-7 PM.

The Elevating Eye— Now at West End Gallery

What we truly and earnestly aspire to be, that in some sense we are. The mere aspiration, by changing the frame of the mind, for the moment realizes itself.

–Anna Brownell Jameson, A Commonplace Book of Thoughts (1854)

This bit of wisdom from 19th century British author Anna Brownell Jameson might be the first mention of the visualization techniques of modern self-help gurus. I am not sure and I don’t have the time to look it up this morning but let’s just say its idea of envisioning yourself as the person you wish to be is bedrock advice in any time and place.

And it is sort of the same idea that I see in this new painting, The Elevating Eye, which is part of my West End Gallery exhibit, that opens Friday. I see the Red Tree here as aspiring for more, to move beyond the sameness and worldliness that surrounds it. It desires higher ground for itself, where its sense of uniqueness and purpose can find clear air and wider views in which to function. 

Where it can be what is sees itself being.

Where its true being is exposed to the all-seeing Eye in the Sky.

Which begs the question: How close do we ever come to being that which we envision ourselves being? Do we view ourselves realistically, fully recognizing all our deficiencies? And if so, are we truly willing to change and grow in order to become what we think we are? 

It raises lots of questions that can’t be answered by anyone but each of us within ourselves. That’s something that could be said of all effective art. It creates reactions and emotions, raises questions without easy answers. It becomes a mirror showing dual images of who we are and who we wish to be. Artists can never say that their work is that mirror for anyone but themselves.

So, I leave it at that. It is what it is and what you want it to be.

Here’s song that sums up the thought and fills out the triad for today. It’s a 2005 song, Changes, from the ethereal Tracy Chapman. She has been in the news lately as her iconic song Fast Car became a #1 country hit for Luke Combs. He did it well and with great respect for the song but for my ears, the original is unmatched. It did, however, bring her work to a group of people who might not have ever heard it and that is a good thing. Here is her Changes:

The Elevating Eye is a 20″ by 30″ canvas which is included in Eye in the Sky, my annual solo exhibit at the West End Gallery in Corning, NY. The show is now hanging in the gallery and available for previews. The exhibit opens Friday, July 21, with an Opening Reception from 5-7 PM. I will be in attendance to field questions or just say hello and chat for a few minutes. Or maybe you can answer my questions– I have a lot. Whatever makes you comfortable.

Also, we will be having an in-person Gallery Talk at the gallery on Saturday, August 19 beginning at 11 AM. It should be fun, with the usual (or should I say, unusual) giveaways and drawings. We are asking that if you plan to attend you reserve a seat since space is limited. Here is a link to the contact form at the West End Gallery where you can let them know if you are interested.