Art in the Time of Covid-19 Online Exhibit
On display in the Art Association Gallery August 4 – September 4, 2020
Gallery hours: Monday – Thursday, 10-2 or by appointment.
Click on any image for a larger view. Questions & purchase inquiries: firstname.lastname@example.org
Flat Creek, Jackson, WY | 2020
pastel on card stock
Pandemic days have helped me realize gratefulness; to be outside more often, appreciate the precious people in my life, and be able to use creative expression as a way of coping with the stress of isolation.
I now paint closer to home...the backyard, around the corner, etc., and have rediscovered the intimate inherent beauty surrounding me. My landscapes have become a more riotous celebration of color and looser lines, reflecting the joyousness of being healthy, alive, and blessed to live (in these uncertain times) in such a beautiful environment.
Corvids-19 | 2020
The pandemic has presented such a sad and difficult situation for so many that I feel guilty to have found, in this time of necessary isolation, the opportunity I have long awaited. For seventeen years of my career, I have supported learning through the arts. At long last, the pandemic allowed me the space and time to create for the pure and simple pleasure. This is the first time I have publicly exhibited my own work of art.
This image was inspired by a photo of the Covid-19 virus published in the New York Times. I thought that for all its destruction it was actually quite pretty. I knew I wanted to reinterpret the image in a collage and I kept thinking about it without getting anywhere. Then a friend made the comment, “covid, not to be confused with corvid.” the animal family in which the sometimes menacing raven is a member.
Night Moves | 2020
acrylic on panel
Although many plein air events were cancelled in 2020, I continue to paint outdoors in the shadow of the Tetons. Painting without pressure has improved my work and given me a deeper connection to our mountain home.
This owl is part of a series of bird paintings I began in March. I’m fascinated with the iconic birds of our valley and note their movements throughout the seasons. Birds bring me joy and hope for the future.
Erased 1 | 2020
oil and cold wax on panel
As an artist, I have the privilege to escape into my studio, close the door, and leave the world behind for a few hours. Painting has been my solace and my refuge. Covid-19 has claimed 142,755 lives so far, but those are just numbers, devoid of meaning and narrative. My “Erased” paintings are inspired by the New York Times series, “Those We’ve Lost” obituaries and portraits of victims of Covid from all walks of life. I spent hours gazing at the faces of the lost and reading about their rich and varied lives. Art, in the form of a great novel, a rousing symphony, or a painting of a human face, allows us to imagine other narratives, feel empathy and bear witness to the human condition. I chose these faces because they spoke to me, and I built their features with oil and cold wax. I poured solvent over the finished portraits and watched as paint dissolved, thinking of how fragile human life and society are, how quickly obliterated. Parts of the paintings survive intact, just as our memories and stories and works of art survive. It is our responsibility to remember, and to give voices and faces to the lost.
Covid Crushers | 2020
blue sold; peach sold
I was fortunate to be able to continue to create my ceramics in my little Jackson pottery studio just a few blocks from the Center for the Arts during the first wave of COVID-19. I decided to tackle learning a new art form, something very different from my typical work, something to provide a new challenge during a challenging time. I decided to teach myself to slip cast my ceramics into plaster molds and then create porcelain items from those molds. My first attempts were a disaster, didn't work, and worse, they leaked liquid plaster all over the studio, it was a huge mess. After working with my mentor and the Director of Studios at the Art Association, Sam Dowd, my molds greatly improved.
The quarantine and pandemic have been very hard on people everywhere, I really hope we have a vaccine soon. I find it can be very hard for me to go in new directions, to step back from my everyday work and really do something different. If there are positives to be had from the COVID-19 quarantine, it was that it gave me permission to explore new avenues of creativity.
These three cans were cast from a four-part plaster mold handmade from an aluminum can. The process of making the mold in parts, drying, casting, firing, and glazing took about 5 weeks. I can't wait to see where this new art form and style take me.
Virgil in the Tetons | 2020
oil and mixed media on unstretched canvas
In paint I think a lot about non-human perspectives, the buckling of space and narrative time, fractals. I also freelance as a science journalist. So viruses are the kind of thing that I think about, and the possibility of this one.
In art I try to undo the conceit that we are separate from our environment. Today this seems more obvious than ever, but culturally we seem slow to catch up. On the other hand, the ways in which people are coming together -- improvising, helping one another – are incredibly encouraging. I have really been appreciating humans, how excellent they can be.
This painting is from a series where I've been working on unstretched canvases. I've been drawn to the flux of boundaries and the uncertainty of a whole. It is a kind of hunting. I like their flickering quality – like finding an icon in a piece of toast or the glimpse of an animal in a field.
Safe? | 2020
ink, pencil, and pastel on paper
Earth. Stems. Scent of Green. Birds. Flowers. Bugs. Curly tendrils reaching out. A breeze lifts my hair. Not lonely.
Water Wave Mobile | 2020
$3800 (custom orders welcome)
Pandemic, Shutdown, Lockdown, Quarantine, all words to describe a new life starting March 2020. For me, one way to counter all this dark & negative news was to create new art that is the opposite.
Playful, Fun, Colorful, Entertaining….these are words I would use to describe my glass mobiles created during the Pandemic. I started making smaller mobiles to give away to friends. My shapes kept growing and becoming more fluid and challenging.
I hope this Water Wave Mobile makes you smile and feel Lighter in Spirit!
Under a COVID Sky | 2020
ceramic bowl and sphere
Shortly after receiving news of a loved one’s illness, I sat down at the wheel pondering our collapsed world. Together, we all live under the same sky with this devastating black hole that is COVID-19 drawing us in.
I pray we can keep our eyes on the beauty of the sky.
Untouchable: Homage to FGT | 2020
inkjet digital photo on paper, rubber stamp, glass, duct tape
contact artist for permission to reproduce and present
Untouchable is about essential and treasured elements of human contact becoming forbidden and potentially fatal.
Untouchable was inspired by selected works of Felix Gonzales-Torres (1957-1996) in which he invited viewers to take a portion of the piece away with them. His act of sharing expanded the artwork beyond the gallery and invoked memory and yearning.
Portions of my digital collage are for you to take (please visit the gallery for takeaways). Even though it’s intended to be a little creepy, I hope it will also remind you that our fear is temporary. One day we will all again be touchable.
Homestead | 2020
watercolor on paper
July, 2020. Sheltering in place, staying home, staying safe. Alone together with the whole planet. I feel blessed to have a roof over my head, enough to eat. What about the homeless, the many already on the margins. The illusion of our lives can change at any time. The threads of hope that keep me together. My house sits in a town. My home resides inside my heart.
Can You See It? | 2020
acrylic on canvas board
This COVID has caused so much damage to so many people. When will it end? Nobody knows. One cannot yet see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Quarantine Crocuses | 2020
oil on panel
This pandemic has affected me by not being able to work at the library or Vertical Harvest. I wish this pandemic would blow over so that we could continue what we would normally do. This is a painting of my first crocus which I haven't seen before and during the first months of spring. This painting will bring cheers to our quarantine.
Love Cabin | 2020
$40 (multiple available
I made this print during the beginning of the pandemic. I carved and printed it on a major scary day, a collective, “Oh shit, the world is caving in” day. I was trying to convince myself through this image that everything would be ok.
View from Our Backyard | 2020
I’d always looked at embroidery pieces and loved the quirkiness and almost paint-like quality of some hoops. During this time of staying home, I decided to get into it and I found that it clicked with me in a way that painting never did. I made these pieces as freehand depictions of some views I’ve had during these last few months in the Teton Valley.
Poppies in My Yard | 2020
acrylic on canvas
When we all had to stay home in March and April, I painted on every unfinished painting. Some became finished, some were covered over with white.
In May and June, I started looking close up at flowers. These were quiet times in my backyard.
The pandemic has made my life slow down. It is quieter and not as busy. Life is simpler. My paintings are quieter, simpler, and stronger.
Do What You Can Where You Are With What You've Got | 2020
watercolor, paper, yarn, paperclips
$30 each / $40 matted / $120 all
Sheltering in place has given me time and space to try some shifts in perspective and allowed me to see some small miracles.
The astronaut, Scott Kelly, wrote that growing lettuce got him through a year on the space station. I water the roses before I paint.
Pandemic Series 4 & 5, Diptych | 2020
alcohol ink, marker, collage on Yupo paper mounted on cradled board
As an artist/introvert, I naturally spend the majority of time working alone in my studio, so the isolation of Covid-19 was not so different for me. In a way it kind of gave permission to do what I normally do without judgment.
The way we interact with others has changed. Everything has become distant and virtual - exhibits, galleries, museums, residencies, conversations, touching. It’s easier to live in the present because the future is unknown and looking forward to anything is so uncertain.
It still has been a very productive time for me. In addition to my regular practice, I produced a series of “Corona Virus/Pandemic” pieces.
I experimented with some new materials and imagery in these pieces and went darker and deeper. The flow of the inks and intensity of the colors lends itself to a different way of painting. The addition of words, use of markers and the plasticity of the paper adds a contrast and cartoon-like feel to the work. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with them. I am sure they are an expression of visual shouting that needed to come out.
Untitled | 2020
terra cotta clay, wood
In this piece I have charred wood pieces and stacked them between terra-cotta plates. This is an ongoing investigation with wood, clay, fire, and object repetition. Layering and stacking of similar objects that can be rearranged is a common thread throughout my practice.
Natural Color | 2020
watercolor on paper
even the weather.
I needed to do something
C O L O R F U L
H A P P Y.
Tide In, Tide Out | 2020
Having found myself in a somewhat unfamiliar environment during the pandemic lockdown but accompanied with art materials, I began an exploratory experimentation of non-objective work.
My husband’s health issues and subsequent medical advice to seek a lower elevation from that of Teton County, Wyoming found us snow-birding in Sarasota Florida during the winter of 2020 and the initial lock down of the Covid-19 pandemic. Driving two cars to and from Florida from our home in Moran, Wyoming was a necessity. Art materials take up a lot of space!
Daily walks on the beach allowed my mind to wander and to ponder. Meditating on life’s blessings while absorbing the sensations of waves, sea air, sand, birds, and landless horizons allowed me to feel contentment, offsetting some of the unease of a world pandemic. The resultant art is prayerful, meditative, nonobjective work. Inside the frame is a shell, discovered on a beach walk. It is to be held while viewing the art and meditating, perhaps in gratitude, knowing that some hopes will not be realized, nor will the fears.
The prayer boxes are priced below my gallery work in order to share, more affordably, the peace of connectedness.
Wishing you happiness, health, virtue, peace, and longevity.
Scale of Life | 2020
When we decided to really address the Pandemic it was still winter with sullen skies and a snow-covered landscape, so I created colorful things, did some decoration work, reorganized my immediate world. The Pandemic made me think of a brutal snowstorm in the mountains. It was a time of introspection. Then I thought: What would my artistic response be to the horrendous situation. I thought of History and how pandemics have affected us throughout the millennia in various places of the world, so I created:
-A mask inspired by Japanese Samurai warriors who fought fiercely with elaborate armors that were meant to scare as much as to protect.
-An abstract and philosophical idea: The Scale of Life that weighs out how we react together to problems, in this case the Coronavirus. Do we work together, care for each other and face the foe united? In which case the scale tips toward a thriving community, or do we act individually, resentful and rebellious? In which case the coronavirus keeps thriving. The ancient symbol of life rests against the scale.
Covid I (History) | 2020
newspaper, acrylic, mixed media on canvas
Art has always been my passion and a great way to escape from the world and be in another place without leaving. During this hard time, I felt like painting more to get away from all of the news and depressing times. This is history; I felt like capturing pieces from the Jackson Hole Daily of all of the current events and how the world was dealing with this situation. Each piece has hidden messages and events of the daily newspaper cut out and put into a collage.
Covid II (Self-Worth) | 2020
newspaper, acrylic, mixed media on canvas
The symbol in Covid II (Self-Worth) is the Universal Symbol for the Intrinsic Human Value and Self Worth.
Meaning of the symbol: To promote the true nature of human beings we have created the symbol for the idea of intrinsic human value and self-worth. In this symbol, the upper space is the constructed reality, the grand illusion. In this space, people have roles, different statuses, and similarly, their extrinsic value is different. In this upper space, we differ a lot and according to our characteristics, we have different functions and perform differently. This is the modern human game that each of us plays on a day-to-day basis. It can be fun and it helps us to evolve. The problem is that most people don’t see it as a game or a storyline. For them, it is the only reality they know. That is why they are not playing, but fighting, discriminating, killing, stealing – it is the mainstream philosophy of life, actions and reactions, a vicious cycle with self-destructing tendencies.
It is possible to escape this narrow mindset. It can be done by understanding and accepting the true human nature. Look at the lower part of the symbol. We are all humans. We are all equal. Maybe our functions differ in the human game but that has nothing to do with who we really are. (source: https://radicalcourse.org/other/self-worth-symbol/)
Tetons from Gros Ventre Junction | 2020
watercolor on paper
In good times and frightening times, the places where I am privileged to live and play are my inspiration and solace. Whenever I drive north of town, my eyes are drawn to the Teton Range, even when they are cloudy. The Snake River and Flat Creek at South Park (in addition to an elk feedground, a designated important bird area) bring beauty and peace as the water flows beside willows, wetlands, cottonwood stands, and fields. Just thinking about these places helps me relax and remember how lucky I am.
Love Bird | 2020
With time stretching out into an uncertain future, a vast ocean with an obscure horizon line, cleaning the studio seemed the proper starting point for gaining art making momentum.
Clear the space, clear the mind….
Taking this time to sort through my stuff was an archeological dig, a rediscovery of art materials, unfinished projects, books and saved imagery that sparked my creativity towards a commitment to explore mixed media more purposefully, but with restrictions: Use only materials at hand, must be done quickly and intuitively, no monkey-mind fussiness, keep them small in size but large in heart, ultimate goal of 100 images, create them for pleasure and the meditation of process, be in the moment of the making, strive for one a week, with the common thread being birds.
Why birds? Why noth birds?! Whose arrivals and departures I eagerly anticipate as markers of the seasons and passage of time, their resolute habits and single-minded pursuit of procreation so awe-inspiring, a joy to watch, reliable creatures in an uncertain world.
So, no fancy framing here, just a shared glimpse of the raw, visceral results of my art in the time of Covid-19. May they spark the same joy in you as I had when creating them!
We'll See Our Friends Soon | 2020
acrylic on canvas
Usually I do ink illustrations, but during this pandemic I got into watercolor and acrylic painting. Social distancing spurred on painting more people and groups in each work, as well as specific memories of mine in the backcountry with friends. These paintings are looking forward to when the pandemic is a memory itself.
fiat biohazard | 2.27.2020
Back in late January/ early February I was getting more and more concerned about Covid-19 and the fast spread around the world. I was also concerned about the potential financial impacts it could have to the US economy- also because there seemed to be some irrational exuberance and bubbles forming that could potentially result in a sharp decline from something such as Covid-19. I was also having some concerns about certain divisions that seemed to be increasing as it related to politics/perspectives in the country. All of these concerns led to the creation of fiat biohazard.
Virus /#1 | 4-3-2020
galvanized nails, acrylic paint, softball
I have produced a lot of work over the winter and spring of 2019-2020, paintings from my Shadow series, a new body of wheel-thrown clay work, and a commissioned painting from my Pedestrian series.
During the middle part of March, I realized that we were living and experiencing a watershed moment. I had a sense that the entire planet, having essentially been locked down with stay-at-home orders in nearly every nation and continent, was taking a much-needed deep breath. Our tiny blue marble seemed quiet, pensive, waiting.
For me, I wondered how to respond creatively to this unprecedented modern event. I wanted something that could be easily made with materials on hand in the studio.
“Viruses,” I said to myself. “I should make viruses.”
With a studio full of art, non-art, and building supplies, I started simply, with a softball, ring-shanked nails and acrylic paint. Mostly spherical in nature, the first sculptures were made from nails, softballs, wood, aluminum foil, yarn, Q-Tips™, matches, and sand. Continuing, I wanted to push the base form beyond just the sphere, adding viruses made from a marshmallow, a peanut, a wine cork, and a hydrostone casting of a large acorn sculpture I had made in 2013. The spines of these later pieces were made from rusted nails, toothpicks,and straight pins.
Like viruses in nature, this series continues to mutate with its own form of antigenic drift.
Brighten My Day | 2020
watercolor on paper
The Covid crisis and the subsequent sequestering gave me an opportunity to really concentrate on my art, and during the early phases, I produced well over 100 paintings. The Brighten My Day flower painting is one of many “loose” paintings I did after attending a workshop with Eric Weingardt. The painting Wishin’ I Was Fishin’ tells it all. Dreaming of being able to participate in my favorite activity…I am wishing that these paintings bring some joy to others as we work through this time.
A Bluebird is a Sign of Joy and Happiness | 2020
oil on canvas panel
During the pandemic, I went out to the back side of the elk refuge (past the hospital) to photograph wildlife and paint plein air in my SUV. While painting in the pull outs, I had great wildlife sightings. I witnessed the elk migrating up the mountain in the snow single file, which seemed magical. I also had my car surrounded by bighorn sheep and was able to get some great photos of them. The multitudes of elk in the valley was truly magnificent, and I enjoyed hearing them call to each other.
While painting out of the car in April, I saw some bluebirds flying through meadow. I started taking photos of them from afar. When I went back to my painting, a beautiful bright bluebird landed on a rock close to me. I was able to photograph him from inside the car, not disturbing him. When I got home, I looked up on the internet the meaning of a bluebird sighting. It said that seeing a bluebird was the sign of joy and happiness, hence the name of my painting.
Around the same time, I went to the front side of the elk refuge and walked to the pond by the visitor’s center. There were many swans, and I was able to get some good photos of them. I called my swan painting “Romance” because they were swimming side by side, looking into each other’s eyes.
Erased | 2020
oil on linen
I am a landscape painter and long standing member of the Teton Plein Air Painters. My paintings are currently being exhibited at the Soul River Gallery in Silver City, New Mexico, and have been shown at the Blue Dome Gallery in Silver City, the JH Center for the Arts, and other venues in Jackson Hole and New York City.
I have been asked by acquaintances how things are going for me during the pandemic. When I explain that I haven’t really left my house for weeks, they all say how wonderful it must be that I can take advantage of the down time and paint away.
I have been asked by my painting friends how things are going. When I respond that I somehow can’t get myself to paint, can’t get my head into it, can’t get near the “zone,” they all say I know!!! Me too!!!
I can’t explain what’s going on, but I am comforted by the fact that I am not the only one struggling to paint. I tried to paint a moonlit sky the other day and ended up taking my largest brush and slashing it diagonally across the piece. I called it “Erased.” That’s how I feel.
Snow Capped Nesting Bowls | 2020
As a local Jackson Hole potter, my one-of-a-kind ceramic pieces are inspired by nature and the beauty of handmade objects. Making pottery is a deliberate attempt at slowing down, connecting to something deeper, and taking time to appreciate the pleasure of labor. The need for beautiful domestic objects and the instinctual drive to create handmade pieces are tremendous dance partners that create functional yet sculptural pottery that supports and represents our intimate rituals of nourishment and celebration in our home life.
My organic nesting bowls were conceived during the Covid 19 pandemic when life slowed down and allowed me to explore notions of beauty and function and cultivate a sense of order in an unordered world. Creating their natural and irregular forms was meditative and brought me back to the basics, accentuating the fluidity and grace of hand-formed wares. No two pieces are the same and are food and dishwasher safe. These multifunctional pieces can go from simple kitchen prep bowls to a beautiful cheese tray or even displayed on their own.
My life as a potter is a gift. I am determined to use that gift to keep “handmade” an essential part of the contemporary home in an otherwise throwaway culture.
White Wolf Howling | 2020
oil on canvas
Carlyn is an artist living and working in Wyoming for the last 10 years (my grandmother is buried in the Eliot cemetery in Wilson and my mother has been here 45 years!). She paints regularly with the Teton Plein Air Painters, and has a studio in her home where she works in the winter. Oil is her main medium and in the past she had one man shows in both London and San Francisco of her oil paintings, botanical watercolor paintings and ceramics and recently took up monotype printing at the Art Association in Jackson.
Painting voraciously all through Covid and lockdown. Inspired by the peace afforded by this quiet time to reflect. Centered and accepting even if I can’t be near all my family. WhatsApp video and zoom webinars have been a most wonderful connection to the outside world.
Jennifer L. Hoffman
Leaving History in Its Wake | 2020
oil, wax, metal leaf, collage on paper
2020 has set off a cascade of unprecedented events, both publicly and privately. Though life in many ways has slowed down, I have struggled to find my artistic voice during the pandemic. It became so quiet, I wasn’t sure it was still there. My attempts to paint felt rudderless and meaningless. The muse is infected, I thought.
But I decided to try something different. Because my normal approach felt so hollow, I tried to shake things up with a very different medium (or combination of media) and a starting place of emotion rather than imagery. The result is a visual representation of my internal landscape - an excavation of fear, anxiety, pain, loneliness, and hope on my journey through an unprecedented territory, trying to find the path to physical and mental health, to anticipation, and to eventual healing.
Almost Blue | 2020
acrylic on canvas
The times in my life where I feel confined and least in control, I lean heavily into the controlled chaos of jazz and the predictable unpredictability of plastic (paints). It has always provided me with a safe internal space where I must lean into the quiet faith that the only way out is through.
Inadvertent Art - Industrial No. 1 | 2020
oil on canvas
A pandemic effect 7.20.20
More available time due to the elimination of quite a few unnecessary activities.
AEROSOL | 2020
spray paint and paint marker on stained wood
My mother-in-law died towards the end of February. My parents came for the funeral. They wound up staying four months because things got bad. At night after dinner they watched British TV in our living room and I messed around with music in the basement, while my wife and daughter slept. When they left there was little time for art with a four year old. My wife, a teacher on sudden summer break, watched our daughter while I worked my same job from home. On the weekends or after work it didn’t seem fair to abandon them for art.
My studio neglected, I finally stole some time while they napped. My favored supplies were low and it seemed a hassle, dangerous, daunting to re-up. The previous summer, in another multiverse we had stained our deck and front porch. We bought more than we needed and I had stained a few pieces of wood that I never had a use for. I typically work with layers of plexi- glass; now it’s used to catch aerosol droplets between cashiers and customers. I used what I had.
Portrait of a Man | 2020
charcoal on paper
This time has pushed me to sketch frequently and continue exploration of the charcoal medium. My artwork primarily embodies figurative pieces and portraits as subjects, both of which I have always been drawn to for their beauty and relativeness. Generally, I work from random photographs as reference material in the studio. Likeness of portrait subjects often eludes me, but the expressive qualities I’m seeking are starting to evolve and demonstrate potential for a greater body of work.
The Phoenix | 2020
charcoal on paper
These specific pieces are an attempt to connect with humanity and recognize how the situation is impacting us all in similar yet different ways. To note, The Phoenix wasn’t a planned piece. The work was already titled differently when I noticed a Phoenix Bird in the charcoal splatter and realized how perfect it was for the piece and the show; how poetic, like a breath of wisdom blowing from her elderly mouth. The symbolic nature of the piece becomes a reminder that we will rise from the ashes to be reborn again…like the Phoenix.
Peace | 2020
watercolor on paper
I was first inspired to paint watercolors on a journaling and cooking trip to France with an artist friend. During our first lesson sketching and painting an old stone building, I asked, “How do you make gray for the rocks?” She said, “Where do you see gray? Look again.” The way I see nature has never been the same since.
The beauty of having watercolors as a hobby, especially during this strange time in our lives, is that you can paint inside and outside anywhere away from crowds, and like yoga, painting reduces stress because hours can pass by without my thinking about anything except painting.
Noah’s Cart | 2020
clay, wood, metal
Making art is a rather solo endeavor and a blessing during this pandemic. On a personal note, I miss the freedom to board a plane and see my other grandchildren who live in Maine. I am grateful for family that want me to be careful and safe. I wish that for them too. I wish that for everyone.
Jade Skull I & II | 2020
clay, cone 6 glaze, horsehair
Creating art in this time of the pandemic has been rough. I must admit, that I haven't been very directed, and I've needed to force myself to get into the studio. I'm not sure why, but producing items on the potter's wheel has been pretty easy. But decorating them has been like having writer's block. Perhaps my sense of humor has been affected. I still desire to make light of things but darker elements are definitely worming their way into my psyche. Take these two skulls for example. These consist of two pinch pots blended together, then eye holes pushed in and nose and mouth carved in. They are simple, and with a tea candle inside, would look pretty eerie. I’d hate to admit, I can probably make dozens of these, but does that make me morbid? Would that be healthy? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Perhaps a grand piece like that can help heal the soul. Time will tell.
How to Make Lemonade | 2020
porcelain, underglaze, glaze
My first reaction to the pandemic was a short-lived, “I can do this! I’m going to get caught up in the studio!” Quickly this turned into the crushing, “Why bother?” This was new, I’ve absolutely never ever doubted making art and being creative. I didn’t know how to fix that feeling, but thought that drawing some eager-to-assist yet awkward tools could help.
This pitcher had been sitting in my studio for a long time; it has a tiny crack in the handle and I planned to use it for a glaze test. I really don’t like that phrase about making lemonade, although I concede that that could really make sense here. But honestly, I just wanted to share the best way to make lemonade.
House of Cards | 2020
digital illustration on velvet rag
We see what we want to see. How does style and projection change the reality we’re living in? Stylistically these images are drawn as if for children, but they are commentary on the challenges facing our world -- infections and deaths from COVID-19 as well as the weaknesses in our systems and institutions. "House of Cards" was drawn to accompany a story for 89.1 KHOL on how the pandemic is affecting housing security here in Jackson. "The Count" was drawn in the early days of the pandemic when we were watching the numbers of infections closely, something it feels we've since become numb to.
Is the dissonance between our collective behavior and science naivete? Or denial? Or maybe it’s just how we cope with a complicated reality.
Waiting to Bloom | 2020
watercolor and india ink on paper
The pandemic has changed everything for all of us. My art definitely took a turn. Having lived in Jackson, Wyoming for 40 years nature has always been an influence in my art. Watercolor is my preferred medium for painting. While in the corona virus lock down this past spring I found that the paintings that I had been doing just did not feel right any more. I started working on some doodling and then one thing led to another and I became involved in shapes, patterns and designs. I spent hours on each painting “doodling.” Then the paintings evolved to larger and larger sized paper. My inspiration still comes from nature; there are patterns out there just waiting to be discovered.
The COVID Owl | 2020
watercolor on paper
The COVID-19 of 2020 has affected the world and everyone in it. For me, it has sent me home from Arizona with a tiger on my tail and palpitations in my chest, along with the dread of the unknown. Settled down in my studio, I felt an emotional charge creep over me which ended up from hand to brush to palette. I had an inner need to express astonishment that this virus is actually a worldwide pandemic which turned our lives to being limited and fragile and possibly ending. I found the eyes of my owl looking out with an incredulous wide stare, saying, “This can’t be really happening.” I found my barn speaking of being lonely, empty, and reminding me of better times in previous years. These feelings popped out in my subject matter and found me trying to say with my brush what everyone is experiencing.
Double Diamond v.2 | 2020
stainless steel, dichroic glass, copper, light
I left my long-time career as a software engineer to learn about art and become an artist myself in June of 2019. After working on a few wonderful projects with my friends, I obtained a grant for my first piece, Double Diamond, an 8 foot tall interactive kinetic and light sculpture.
When I returned to Wilson after displaying Double Diamond on the beach in Miami at the beginning of March, COVID-19 had begun wreaking havoc. As my planned engagements were canceled one by one, I started to realize that large art was going to dry up in the way I had been thinking about it for an unknown amount of time.
In response to this, I began working on projects and processes at a smaller scale including metal casting, glass casting, digital 3d design, 3d printing, and of course all of my previous mediums (fire, metal, light, motion) but on a smaller scale. This was the birth of both Double Diamond v.2 as well as the collection "Digital Tectonics" from my studio Winterworks. I hope you enjoy my new format as much as I have enjoyed learning and practicing it! In the future, you may want to keep an eye out for my works of metal and cast glass which I have developed a passion for.
Petit Grand v.10 | 2020
metal 3d print, patina, dichroic acrylic, wood, light
The Earth is Screaming | 2020
oil on canvas board
The Covid 19 pandemic is a most unsettling and frightening event. For me, spending time in isolation has been an opportunity to reflect, imagine a better world, and try to express my feelings by painting with oils or acrylics on canvas. Two of my paintings seem to best reflect these uncertain times - The Earth is Screaming, a plein air work in oil, depicts an environment that is suffering and is about to explode. The other, acrylic on canvas, was inspired by a site outside my home, of two aspens in an intertwined position - Aspens in Love which seems to depict a caring, loving and more hopeful environment, seemingly looking forward to a better future.
Although l was always passionate about Art, both appreciation and collecting, and experienced rigorous art teaching throughout my early schooling in Italy, I did not delve fully into painting until my husband and I retired from our professions as educators, and discovered Swan Valley, Idaho. I was immediately taken by the beauty of the environment, the dynamic, ever-changing clouds casting interesting shapes on the mountains and fields below, and the dramatic colors found everywhere in the flowering fields, the distant hills and the skies. I was compelled to begin creating my own versions of this beauty, using oils or acrylics on canvas. We now spend 4-5 months of the year in our home in Swan Valley, where I happily paint as often as I can.