Good Luck Point

I wish all exhibits were this easy to pull together. On Monday, Richard Rosenfeld came to the studio and we looked through the paintings that were available, and framed, and a half hour later there was a selection ready for the March show. The only thing left to do is deliver them to the gallery next weekend, then decide what to wear. That wouldn't be an issue except that the artist showing in the front half of the gallery is my husband's cousin, Chuck Olson. I remember from years ago how much effort he put into his ensemble for openings. I haven't seen Chuck in ages, and that may have been a phase he passed through, but maybe not.

The painting above is called "Good Luck Point". This spot is around the point from where I go in the summer on Barnegat Bay in New Jersey.  When we started going there in the 1980's, there was a lot of this wide open marshland along the bay, but most of it has been developed, with lagoons cut into the marsh and clunky houses cheek by jowl. Too bad.

A Valentine

After I delivered the new paintings to the Sherry French gallery, I thought I could take a breather. I'd just about finished the most recent portrait for the Lost Dreams project and I wouldn't have to bring anything up to New York until the end of March. But then I got a call from Richard Rosenfeld who had an unexpected opening in his schedule. Could I be ready for a show in March?Yipes. Richard is a wonderful guy and I haven't shown at the Rosenfeld Gallery for a few years so of course, I said yes. Then Sherry French asked for another painting for the February show. Suddenly I was frantic again. But I did this little painting in two days. I might have spent more time on it, added a bit more glazing, but it's perfect for a last minute gift and it was a lot of fun to do. 

New York Blues

I drove up to New York yesterday with my good friend and fellow artist Nancy Bea Miller to deliver new paintings to the Sherry French gallery. All the way up to New York we talked about the current economic situation, and the conversation continued with Sherry. It's not a great time for artists or their dealers either. The signs of economic disaster were also very evident when we drove uptown to see the Peter Poskas III show at Hirschl & Adler Gallery. Madison Avenue was eerily quiet on a sunny afternoon.  A disconsolate looking sales girl stared out at the street from Dior. There were no groups of loud Russian tourists clutching shopping bags.   There were lots of parking spaces on Madison Avenue. It was very strange. 

The Poskas show was a real pleasure. The paintings were quite good, and it was enjoyable to see his take on places where Nancy Bea and I had also painted. One real stand out for me was the painting above, "Tomatoes and Olive Oil". Even digital reproduction seen on a good monitor doesn't do justice to the luminosity Poskas achieved in this painting. The slices of tomato shimmered in a warm saturated glow and the bread seemed lit from within and still warm from the oven. Really beautiful.

New Year, New Work

It has been a while since I posted. I get distracted, I guess. And the holidays, as enjoyable as they are, break up the work flow. I have to bring three new pieces up to the gallery on Thursday. Today I went in to the studio to varnish two of them and start framing. I had the unwelcome experience of looking at one of them and feeling I needed to repaint areas. Aaargh! So much for the varnishing. I reworked part of that painting and it will have to go up to New York "naked". I tend to paint in thin semi-transparent layers. This can give a very effective glow as the light travels through the paint layers and back to the viewer. The problem is that this technique doesn't look its best until that last completely transparent layer of varnish is added. 

I am satisfied with this painting, "Japanese Iris", which is the result of a visit to a friend's country place last June. There was so much there to paint, but I found myself concentrating on the pond and these irises in full exuberant bloom. They called out to have a haiku written about them, or at least a memory painted.