New From Megan Aline 08 | Oct

These little treasures are still awaiting their titles...

tags: Megan Aline

Behind thier PROCESS 30 | Sep

"Your Services Are No Longer Required", oil on panel, 26 x 22 in. from Patrick Kramer

In Rembrandt's "Self-Portrait with Two Circles" the Dutch master stands confidently before the viewer, brushes and palette in hand, the suggestion of two half circles in the background. No explanation is agreed upon as to the circles' meaning, but it is commonly believed they symbolize the artist's skill, a perfect circle being a demonstration of the painter's expertise.

Despite Rembrandt's prodigious talent and fame, he struggled financially throughout his life. He died in poverty, his virtuosity insufficiently profitable.

During difficult times, the occupation of artist seems silly, a self-indulgent luxury that is the first to go in a depressed economy. I’ve certainly felt frustration in realizing my skill set is of little benefit to society, my job truly “unessential”.

And yet, for thousands of years, artists have persisted. From Palaeolithic cave paintings to the Sistine Chapel, artists continue to create. In good times and bad, as impractical as it may seem, the creative impulse survives. The arts endure because they are not only worthwhile, but important.

Mia Bergeron – “Outlook” 24" x 34" oil on aluminum

Of all of the things that have changed in my life since March, my perspective has undertaken the most radical of shifts; a pandemic that rips people apart, politics that take precedence to health, long-standing racial inequality finally coming to the surface and boiling.

In attempting to begin to process any of these gigantic world events, one of the biggest mental shifts in my work has occurred during this pandemic time- I am seeing space in a completely new way. Things are not as I thought, and my perspective is challenged. Whereas much of my work in the past has had a somewhat straightforward viewpoint, now space (like time) seems to bend to me. In this piece, I walked away from the literal space where I was painting- the window now warps and bends towards the viewer, bowls are seen from multiple height vantage points all in one image. Skulls bend towards the viewer, disintegrating into windows, fields and fruit.

I want the viewer to feel that this space is both private and warped, creating a bit of a sea-sick feeling mixed with joyous colors and familiar objects. Because so far, that's what it's felt like to be inside and isolated from everyone. There are days when my thoughts will warp the external world and will make it seem so confusing that I'm not sure what's even real. And there are days I've delighted in all the privacy, all the time to work on the things I've put off for too long, all the social pressures lifted. It's a constant shift, sometimes minute to minute between these two polarized feelings. The visual paradox is both unsettling and calming to me, depending on where I am emotionally when I look at this painting.

Nadine Robbins – “His Life Mattered” 24" x 24" oil on linen

While reading the news about the death of George Floyd, I noticed on social media that all the profile photos were changing to the black fist, a logo generally associated with Black nationalism, defiance, and solidarity. As unbelievable as it sounds, when I looked down from my monitor, there lay a black glove, worn, wrinkled, and lifeless. At that exact moment, I decided to paint this glove in honor of Mr. Floyd.

As a nurse's wife during the COVID epidemic, I isolated myself much longer. Consequently, it made it harder for me to protest on the streets. So painting this glove live on Instagram became my way to participate in the Black Lives Matter movement.

This painting of a black glove molded into a fist is a visual reminder for future generations of the murder of a man, a father, and how his death forced us to reexamine our racist history and our roles in it.

While the protests' outcome is still not clear, George Floyd's death mattered a great deal, and it opened a wound that I hope can finally heal. In the words of his daughter, Gianna, "Daddy changed the world."

Robert Lange – Some One - 36” x 36” oil on panel

Of all the events that have taken place during this crazy year, it was the Black Lives Matter movement that transformed my perspective the most. In the aftermath of George Floyd’s death I found myself sick to my stomach with a sense of injustice. I have always had empathy and compassion when it came to matters of race, but never before did I realize I was part of the problem. I never spoke up, I never used my platform to demand change and therefore I was not participating in any change.

I had a desperate desire to listen. I approached the BLM movement with the idea that I actually knew nothing about the challenges an entire race has been facing for far too long. I decided that I would make a painting about this earnest desire to listen. I went back through the thousands of portraits I have taken over the years and set out to make the most time consuming and intricate portrait of my life focusing in on a stranger whose story I did not know. I found an image of a young woman from San Francisco I had taken 2 years ago at the pride parade. Her gaze was direct and vulnerable, powerful and confident. Her hair, her eyes, her shirt all demanded an excessive amount of time to render and all the while I would listen. I listened to her unknown pains and joys through her eyes, her story and character through her hair, her collar, her clothing. With each brushstroke and passing hour I felt more connected to this “someone” I did not know.

Now that the painting is finished, I have decided I am going to find her, this stranger, whose story is just as valid and important as every other human’s story. I am confident with the help of social media we will find her, and after telling her how grateful I am for her part in this personal experience, I will ask her where she would like me to donate 100% of the funds from the sale of the painting.

Hopefully, this connection between two complete strangers will fund a small bit of change in the world.

Skip Rhode – “Portland 2020” 45" x 45" oil on canvas

I was in high school when soldiers killed four and wounded nine student protesters at Kent State in 1970. After graduating from college, I spent 22 years as a military officer, defending my country from threats overseas. But now, our nightly news is filled with images of armed American troops in combat uniforms fighting other Americans on our own streets. It was horrifying at Kent State and it’s horrifying now.

Reynier Llanes - "Hidden Treasure” oil on canvas, 78" x 56"

The year 2020 has been a year of changes and adapting to a new world. We are experiencing a time unlike any other. We have seen ourselves amidst a life-threatening global pandemic. However, this event has allowed us more time for introspection as a society and much positive has resulted from this. It has welcomed new methods of communication and creativity, it has afforded us more time to connect with loved ones, whether in person or from afar. It has also made us feel more connected to nature and it has reawakened a new sensitivity to the outdoors, giving us a new sense of balance. In a world that is so technologically consumed, and consumerist driven this “break” from our routine is making us reconsider what is truly important.

“Hidden Treasure”, oil on canvas, speaks about nature, an appreciation for the treasures that often lie right before our eyes. In these times of covid19 we have become closer and more observant of mother nature. We have become more appreciative of the importance of nature in our lives and how we are affected by it as much as we are affecting it. This piece focuses on a landscape, a human figure, and parallel worlds. It demonstrates a yearning and a desire for a deeper connection with nature, with ourselves, and with each other. I utilized an expressionistic painting style which allowed me freedom in my brush strokes to create a sense of movement amongst the landscape and figure. I used layers of colors to create contrast in lighting, offering a sense of drama and chiaroscuro.

Art holds a mirror up to society, reflecting its interests and concerns while at the same time challenging its ideologies and preconceptions. As an artist I feel it is my responsibility to express myself and to record the human experience for future generations. It is our duty to capture the human condition and express that which sometimes becomes almost inexpressible. Art is a vehicle for communication, awareness, and appreciation.

Alexandra Becker-Black – “Freedom’s Siren” 24" x 38" sumi-e ink on paper

"While many, sadly, still argue over which humans deserve rights, Sentience is the morally principle component of consciousness. This country calls for a paradigm shift in the practice of human rights. I support dismantling a culture of violence and racism and I will harness my responsibility as an artist to glorify all the colors of humanity."

Diane Craig – “Golden Retriever” 24" x 24" oil on panel

The pandemic is something that feels like a slow motion bad dream. Every time I think the handling of this serious issue in America couldn’t be worse well…

This painting was done during the pandemic. I made use of the many cardboard boxes that are arriving everyday with everything from paper towels to tools to try to make homemade biscuits. My favorite thing about the painting is the shadow of the dog and flowers. To me I don’t see a dog sitting still like us in the house now but running free in a convertible on Sunset Blvd under the palm trees.

Kerry Simmons – “Ghost in the Garden” 8" x 10" colored pencil and oil on paper

When it became clear early this year that change and threat were bearing down on us rapidly, I faced feelings of intense anxiety. My world shrunk, but it also filled up with an uncomfortable restlessness. My antidote was to walk, a lot, outside. Nature preserves became my refuge and therapy. The spaciousness, beauty, and fresh air calmed my nerves and allowed me to feel safe. Then state parks in Illinois were closed. The largest stretches of open, empty public lands were closed. It made no sense and I felt devastated. So many things were gone and now these places, that afforded so much comfort and peace, not to mention very large spaces for people to spread out in, had a “closed due to Covid” sign on it.

This piece reflects my frustration with the senselessness of choices that were made in regard to public lands and the lack of recognition for the hidden costs of social isolation, the depression and sadness that occurs when one can no longer take nature’s medicine.

Mary Engel - Vera 18" x 34" x 16" mixed media sculpture

The past few months have felt devastating. No other word captures what is happening to communities, animals and to our planet. During these moments of darkness, our family has endured several life threatening accidents and illness. I have found solace in our land, which is full of beauty, excitement, peace and joy. We plant flowers, herbs, vegetables, fruit trees and bushes for honey bees, hummingbirds, a prolific family of blue birds, goldfinch, butterflies and many other beings including ourselves. I am honored by all the creatures who visit us and enjoy the bounty. A recurring companion and the inspiration for this piece is an owl named Vera. We met early one morning in March when she swooped down, 2 feet over my head, and then landed in a nearby oak tree. Her wingspan was immense, her presence humbling. Under the light of dawn, and under her gaze I felt that each and all of the myths that have followed owls over the millenia could be true. For cultures around the world an owl's arrival feels significant. Depending on what century you lived in, what continent you inhabited, and which cultural group you belong to, an owl sighting could signal birth, death, the presence of an ancestor, bad omen, good fortune, magical powers, a guests arrival, the feminine, fertility or renewal. I chose to create this piece to honor the owl's fierce intelligence, beauty and power believing she signifies magic, wisdom and renewal.

June Stratton – Transcendence 40" x 30" oil and fresco and secco gold leaf on linen

Just as shutdown was unfolding in March, in a courtyard in Savannah I took hundreds of photos of model Alice Harbeson. She moved about the courtyard veiled and unveiled and I tried to capture images that best represented the very wide range of emotions I was feeling at the time. I somehow knew that I wanted blend sorrow and hope in the same painting. The hopeful transcendent part came together when I brought out an orb prop I have used unsuccessfully before in other photoshoots, but it clicked this time, a glass Japanese fishing float. I had Alice hold it up into the most perfect sunlight and then I saw the image I was looking for instantly.

Throughout this painting I have placed gilded cast symbols gathered from inside and outside my home. I used family heirlooms, jewelry, a bronze foo dog and casts I made from an 1850’s flowered portrait frame of one of my ancestors. Outside my home I cast tall grasses - Gamma grass, wildflowers – Bear paw, a tortoise shell and oak leaves. There are over thirty-five fresco-secco (plaster) casts in this painting. These all mean something to me personally.

Inside the orb I positioned an imagined space with a galaxy, planet and stars. This is a nod to science. My moonlit backdrop is an homage to a woodblock print by Hiroshi Yoshida, also a family heirloom. As such, a nod to family.

My painting is really a tiny dot in galactic time. Transcendence means to me rising above the most appalling of times. I say this with love and hope.

Adam Hall “Carry Your Burden” 36" x 32" oil on panel

This painting carries several meanings for me. Mostly, it is tribute to all the incredible women who positively shaped my life through their steadfastness. Those who’ve come out on the other side of a heavy season and use it as fuel to become more compassionate and empathetic. When you witness that it changes you and shapes you. That bravery can’t help but to bleed over into your own life and create new perspectives.

Sandra Flood - “Surrender Nothing” 18" x 18" oil on linen

This reflects the sorrow with all that is bleak around us. But do not give in or give up. Do not surrender.

Adam Vinson - “Pilgrim” 12" x 12" oil on panel

“Pilgrim” is the portrait of a man I’ve never met. He passed through a few incarnations during the painting process (a dandy, a pirate, a lumberjack...) before settling as the person we see in the frame. “Settling” is an appropriate word here, with a little explanation. The initial reference for the idea was a photograph of a Victorian Englishman. I painted it during the global wave of protests against the use of excessive force by police officers following the death of George Floyd, which also happened to be the first large-scale noncompliance of the pandemic quarantine. Only in hindsight did I realize the unlikely connection of those three details and how they helped to inform the work:

- As to the history of The United States, The Pilgrims were English settlers who braved crossing a menacing ocean to embrace religious freedom on a foreign shore while fleeing religious persecution on their native one.

- The protests challenging the use of excessive force by police, namely against black Americans, are a sober reminder of just how strained and pervasive race relations remain in our society. Relations that began during the Colonial Period with the forced importation and enslavement of people from the Caribbean and Africa, and continued through the founding of our country. Eighty-five years after that founding, the country was so fundementaly divided on the issue that it took a civil war and 620,000 lives to end the reprehensible practice.

-The pandemic has altered how we interact in public, but we’ve maintained a sense of control by personalizing the standoffish tone of the mask by personalizing it through color, pattern, and design. In this way, the mask becomes a reluctant fashion statement, bringing attention to the face in protest of its application to conceal it.

My process relies heavily upon intuition to “feel” when the painting is finished. The incarnation that staked his claim, the portrait that we see, was born of my imagination but informed by layers of impressions of the portraits that came before him, beginning with the photo of the Englishman. To me, our man feels as if he fits the very definition of a pilgrim - traveling a far journey to find sanctified ground.

Michelle Jader - "For an Indefinite Period" 20" x 16" charcoal drawings

Shelter in Place came early to San Francisco. On March 16th, the streets fell silent as the city I loved came to a complete halt. Everything from beaches to businesses shut down and the 900,000 residents, jam-packed into 7 square miles, stayed home.

I stayed home. Alone with my thoughts. Single and isolated, I grew more and more introspective. Little by little, day by day, I felt that the life I loved, the life I built, the connections I had made, were floating away. Leaving me.

As the ambiguity of the situation continued and the ground beneath my feet felt like it was constantly shifting, I became untethered. I wanted nothing more than to escape from the place that now felt like a cage, to reconnect with the things that matter most, and to rediscover the strong and creative woman I had been.

For An Indefinite Period is the beginning of a series of drawings that reflects the early stages of this period of flux; the loss and the reemergence of the self and the beauty that can come from surrendering to possibilities.

Brett Scheifflee - "Survivor" 18" x 22" oil on panel

This oil painting is a solidified and varnished version of what was previously just one of those conjured mental images we create to anchor us in chaos. This particular chaos unfolded after the woman I love heard the words, "you have breast cancer". Once the weight of that has hit you hard enough, there are a lot of unknown terrible scenarios that enter your mind and an equal number of doctor appointments and tests to follow. It is a long and challenging road to say the least and the patient needs all the love and support they can get. As a caregiver and significant other, I needed to believe that things would be okay again. That this was all going to work out for her and that the pain from needles and surgery and the sickness and fatigue from chemo and radiation would eventually put one back where they most want to be, with the scourge exorcised by modern medicine. I pictured this, her back on top of one of New York's Adirondack peaks, feeling strong enough again to have made the climb and to take in the view, knowing damn well that she earned it more than anyone knew. I'm happy to report that she has since climbed two peaks and many more will follow.

P.S. Although we climbed peaks together, this is still an invented image from a variety of sources. The departing pink clouds in the sky are the color paired with breast cancer, the mountain peaks cut a line across the chest and the five stars in the sky represent the five year mark many cancer survivors of all types hope to get to with no problems post treatment.

Sara Scribner - “A New Beginning” 17" x 12" oil on aluminum

The thing about this pandemic and all the other craziness we have all been living through for the past six months is that it really gives you time to reflect on what is important to you. The first three months of it Shane, our daughter Elise, and I were, like most, stuck inside of our home. A beautiful loft WITHOUT a backyard in a city center. In June we moved to a small mountain town in Colorado. The transition was wonderful. Not only did we finally have an outdoor space for Elise to explore but the fresh mountain air seemed to melt away the anxiety and stress I had been living in for the last three months.

One day, when my mom was visiting, she and Elise were out foraging along the river that runs behind our house. They came home and made a beautiful sculpture using the bark of a tree and all the things that they had collected during their long walk. My eyes filled with happy tears seeing her play like that. I immediately knew I had to paint that moment. I decided to add in all the animals that come to visit our back patio everyday. A chipmunk who broke into our plastic bin and ate almost an entire bag of bird seed after we accidentally closed the lid and trapped him inside (he was ok and very chubby when we opened the lid), a Chickadee who has zero fear of us and who has even landed on my coffee mug, a hummingbird that is constantly eating the nectar from our flowers, a sparrow who always keeps a safe distance, and the beautiful butterflies that are ever present.

Watching my daughter play outdoors fills my heart with such peace and happiness. It dawned on me how important it is for our family to be in nature, to put down our phones and be present in the moment, because as we all now know, things can change very quickly. I am happy to be able to step outside and watch my daughter play and ignore the news of the world even if just for a little bit.

Larisa Brechun - “Drifting” 24" x 20" oil on panel

For me personally, this painting is about isolation and fear of the unknown. As someone with a compromised immune system, I've often found myself fearful of the outside world. That fear was intensified when 2020 brought with it Covid-19. Because of my high-risk status, I was afraid to leave the house, and my loved ones were also afraid of putting my health at risk by visiting. I often found myself feeling totally alone and lost, like someone floating in dark, unfamiliar water.

In many ways completing this painting was very therapeutic. It allowed me to explore my negative feelings and channel them into something positive. Lately, I've found myself feeling more hopeful for the future and less afraid of things that are outside of my control.

Missing This 12 | Sep

No wonder I’ve been feeling like I want to paint faces lately, it’s been two years! Here is my new work-in-progress about halfway in. I’ve missed this and I’m enjoying it so much!

Jessica