Snow Colors

Here's a challenge.

Look at snow - how many colors can you find?

This morning, I saw orange snow, sparkling on tree branches in the glow of sunrise. The sky behind was blue; remember the color wheel? Blue and orange are direct complements. They danced!

I also found shades of blue in the snow, as well as violet, especially in shadows.

Besides this, there were touches of rose, spots of soft lavender, glows of yellow.

Of course, the angle of the sun will make a difference; the orange was sunrise light. As the sun progressed, the colors in the snow shifted too.

As Curt Stager explained on Natural Selections the other day, light from the sun appears white, but really consists of all colors. Something like a prism will separate the colors: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. (Remember ROY G. BIV?) You could think of this spectrum as a flattened color wheel - with "blue" subdivided into indigo - a deep, dark blue.

Look closely at a single snowflake. With its six sides, it's a tiny prism.

Sunlight, snowflakes, prisms: you've got yourself a rainbow in the snow.

A Universal Delight

When my oldest son was a toddler, we took a trip and found ourselves in a small French city. It was a cloudless, late-summer afternoon, and we set out on foot to explore this new place.

Sadly, I speak no French, nor does my husband. We were delighted with the beautiful architecture, the fragrant streets, the cheerful crowds, but anything more than rudimentary communication was beyond us.

So we meandered the streets in isolation, enjoying, but aware of our limitations.

Until: we turned a corner, and as if by magic, found a small street fair. In the center, wedged between food booths and vendors' stalls, rose a gleaming, golden carousel! The horses were painted in all colors, with streaming manes, prancing hooves, and laughing eyes, rising and falling endlessly on their circular path.

My son was not even verbal in English yet - but he didn't have to be. He saw - he knew - he wanted to experience - the wonder before us.

We bought tickets, I took him in my arms, and he chose a horse. We settled together into the carved wooden saddle, and as I held him snug, we were lifted and lowered, over and over, while carillon music filled the air and the glittering world flashed by.

He was thrilled.

We bought tickets two more times, and my husband took photos of our boy's joyous, exuberant laughter. They are the best pictures from that trip.

There are few things in life as pure as the emotions of a young child. Words are needless. The carousel operator spoke no more English than I did French, but he laughed along with us and our little one. Such joy is infectious.

A carousel is a vessel of enchantment; young and old alike find it irresistible.

Sometimes, someone has a flash of inspiration so new, so exciting, that others are drawn to it like iron to a magnet. Such a miracle is occurring right here in Saranac Lake, right now: it's called the Adirondack Carousel!

A small, tireless group has spent the last decade creating a carousel featuring Adirondack animals instead of horses. It will be located in Saranac Lake's largest play park, near the train depot, and will be enclosed in a winterized pavilion.

The creatures to ride include a raccoon, a trout, a loon, a beaver, an otter, and more - even a black fly! These are all being hand-carved and hand-painted, and are on display in various locations around Saranac Lake. I proudly displayed the salamander in my shop window last winter, and am planning soon to receive the wood thrush for exhibition.

Ground-breaking is planned next spring. Soon, you will find a universal delight right here in the North Country. This carousel will fuse art, entertainment, and education in a wholly new way, and promises to be irresistible to people of all ages and nations.

Magical Lens

Snow!

Above is a photo I took while walking to work this morning. As I have said before, I am not an accomplished photographer, but I took this quick snap to try to capture the lacy, otherworldly freshness of our first significant accumulation. Despite the cold which burned my ears and addled my fingers, the walk was beautiful.

Many local artists treat snow with mastery. The color and texture vary so greatly in an image of snow, depending on innumerable variables, but primarily light.

Barry Lobdell, a member of the Adirondack Artists Guild, photographs snow with a clear eye and a sure hand. His snowscapes are deeply magical - like Odysseus, he seems able to charm Athena into halting the progress of day and night.

In Barry's snowscapes, shadows reach across a velvety expanse, dancing into new colors along the way. Sunset wraps a cloak about the darkening hills, drawing an ice-bound island into its glowing embrace. Barren trees hold their aged trunks tall and proud, while striated sunbeams lure you to plunge headlong into the pure, frozen softness. A single, questioning birch limb probes into a dusky glade.

They are so wondrous, you forget how cold winter can be, and you bask in the sorcery of an artist's eye.

Port o' Call for Art

This morning a friend reminded me of ANOTHER great place to enjoy art in the North Country: Westport!


For a tiny hamlet, it has an awful lot to see.


To start with, there is the village itself - the architecture is splendid. When you arrive in the center of town, you feel as though you've passed through a time machine. Such architecture, and in such good condition, is a rare find in the 21st century.


(Architecture, of course, is an art - I'll look at that another day!)


The natural surroundings, too, are phenomenal. Nestled between majestic Lake Champlain and the Adirondacks, the town is encircled by grace.

Then there is the creativity of its residents ...

I remember, as a kid, hearing murmurs and queries whisking around the North Country about a theater in a train station... What a strange idea! Who would have thought of such a thing-? How would it work?


What a gift to us all that someone not only thought of it, but that the community of Westport made it work: The Depot Theatre is a true North Country gem. Professional theatre is a treat in itself; the splendidly restored depot would also be worth a trip. To combine the two was a stroke of real genius.


Beside the actual production of plays, the Depot Theatre has a gallery space. Local artists' work can be seen there year-round; currently, it features a show by Adirondack Landscape Artists.


Westport is also home to the the Arts Council of the Northern Adirondacks, an agency which promotes, publicizes, and supports all kinds of art, all over the North Country. From headquarters in a refurbished church, the small staff of ACNA generates an annual directory of arts events, sponsors music and art shows, channels grant money to local artists, and more. Our whole region would be poorer without their Herculean work.


If you haven't ever been to Westport, you are missing a treat. If you have been, go again, and enjoy this North Country jewel.

Better than Booze

We live in stressful times. Open the newspaper: it tells of wars, environmental degradation, energy dependence, layoffs and unemployment, financial uncertainties.

And that's not to mention personal stressors. Loneliness, fear, misunderstanding, hurt, anger - these sensations flood through us at times, leaving us exhausted and empty.

How do we deal with these? How do we ease the worry, the pain?

Well, of course, there are many ways to respond. One popular cushion against the world is alcohol. The loosening of muscles and of thoughts, the decrease in sensitivity - these experiences can blur our anxieties.

At first.

Now, I am no teetotaller - I enjoy a glass of wine as much as anyone. But, I have found that its pleasant effects are short-lived, and can be followed by very unpleasant ones: thirst, headache, rubbery limbs, foggy thought. I hate those feelings.

Ultimately, I have found, art is better than booze.

When you sit down to make something, it's as though you enter a different realm. Worries recede, troubles diminish. It is not escapism - just respite. And afterwards, rather than feeling crummy, you feel refreshed, relieved, renewed.

I wrote a while ago wondering why art is created; I guess this is one reason, and perhaps it's as good a reason as any.

Color Basics

Color. So seductive, and yet so infuriating.



I wrote about it earlier this month, and I would like to circle back briefly. For those readers who feel comfortable with color theory, you might want to skip this post. This will be a simple, basic primer aimed at those readers new to its strange alchemy.



Above is a color wheel: yellow, orange, red, purple, blue, green, and variations thereon.



Yellow, red, and blue are the "primary" colors - this means that they cannot be made by mixing other colors together. They are denoted here with a solid triangle.

Between them, indicated by the dashed-line triangle, are the "secondary" colors: orange, purple, green. These are made by mixing the primaries shown on either side - orange is made by mixing red and yellow, purple is made of red and blue, and green comprises blue and yellow.



This color wheel also shows "tertiary" colors, on either side of the secondary colors: tertiaries have more of one primary or another. Yellow-orange, blue-green, and so forth, are mixtures of a secondary color with a primary.




So, mixing two primary colors creates a secondary color; mixing a secondary color with a primary color makes a tertiary color. But wait - there's more!



If you draw a straight line across the wheel from one color to another, you will find direct complements. When placed side by side, these colors strengthen each other. For example, red right next to green will appear to vibrate.



When you mix complements together, however, they dull each other. Lovely browns can be made from yellow and purple, while blue and orange together result in shades of grey. Dark red and dark green can form a rich black.




Now, colors are also said to have "temperature". Think of fire: what colors come to mind? I think mostly of reds, oranges, and yellows; as it happens, those are the "hot" colors. When you imagine water, do certain colors seem most applicable? In the Adirondacks, water is usually cold - and the "cold" colors are blue, green, and purple.




These designations are not just poetic, however. Hot and cold colors behave differently in a composition. When juxtaposed, the cold colors will appear to recede, while the hot ones will seem more prominent.




Please bear in mind that I am writing in broad generalities. As I noted in an earlier post, red, yellow, and blue may be "primaries", but there are so many variations of reds, yellows, and blues. They all mix differently, and have different characteristics when used unmixed.




But don't be intimidated. Experiment! Most of us take years to develop comfortable fluency with color theory and its permutations; I struggle with it still. Reference books are highly recommended!

Chalk and Butter

If you have had the good fortune to see Diane Leifheit's show (described in my post "Visit 'Meadow Front'"), you have a sense of how luxuriously expressive a medium pastel can be.


But what is pastel? The word simply means paste - in this case, a paste of pigment and binder. However, you may recall: binder is the defining element of a medium. So, the binder which forms the paste determines what type of pastel you have - and not all pastels use the same binder!


Diane is a master of what we call "soft pastel". In this case, pigment powder has been mixed with chalk (or clay) and a thickening agent.

Most people have also heard of "oil pastel". Can you guess the difference? Here, the binder is a mixture of oil and oil-soluble wax.

Picture a stick of butter and stick of chalk side by side. What would happen if you tried to grease a pan with chalk? (-shudder!-) It's easier to imagine drawing a picture with butter ... but I wouldn't recommend it!

Likewise, oil pastel and soft pastel have very different working qualities.

Soft pastel offers the purest, clearest color, as the crystalline structure of the pigment powder is not dulled by any extraneous coating material. It requires a "toothy ground" (that is, a highly textured surface), and it creates a great deal of dust. The color is so concentrated that a little goes a long way, and it layers, smears, and blends on the ground very easily. It is also water soluble.

In contrast, the color produced by oil pastel is deeper but less intense, because the grains of pigment are coated in the oily binder. (Think of dry vs. buttered toast. The crumb is more visible without the butter.) This is not to say that oil pastel (or buttered toast!) is dull - far from it. Just different.


Oil pastel does not require a toothy ground - its sticky binder holds it onto a smooth surface just fine. It is oil soluble, and can be combined with oil paint mediums such as turpentine. It is not dusty, and is often therefore preferred over soft pastel by artists with respiratory concerns. This also makes it much less messy, and more suited for use by small children.

Whereas soft pastels have a virtually unlimited shelf life, oils do not; over time, they will dry and harden. Also, when exposed to heat (such as a sunny window), oil pastels melt.


Due to their divergent working properties, soft and oil pastels cannot be used together.


Recently I read somewhere that the only similarity between soft and oil pastels is the shape of the stick, and that they should be considered quite distinct media. I think this is true.

The best way to understand each is to try them both: not only will you gain experiential appreciation, but you can also decide which works better for YOU.

Plastics Proliferation

In the original version of the movie Sabrina (1954), businessman Linus Larrabee spends a fancy party showing wealthy guests the wonders of plastics - at one point bouncing up and down on what looks like a sheet of Plexiglas.

From the movie The Graduate (1967), you might recall the line, "There's a great future in plastics!"

Plastics have, indeed, redefined our material lives. Look around you right now: what can you identify that isn't plastic? For me, at the moment, I am sitting at a wooden desk - but my chair, computer, clock, telephone - all are mostly plastic.

Plastics inundate the art world too.

If you look to my earlier blog entry titled "Medium, Pigment, Binder", you will recall that binder - whatever holds the pigment together - is the defining element of a medium. The binder which creates acrylic paint is "polymer resin".

In simpler terms, that means "goopy plastic". Polymer (literally, a chemical compound of repeating structures) refers to plastic, and resin is goo (like pine tree sap, only in this case, synthetically produced).

Now, I am not a chemist, but Sam Golden was. While making oil paints with his uncle Leonard Bocour in post-war New York City, Golden invented what we now call acrylic paint. At first, it was pretty uninspiring stuff - gloppy and hard to control, puddling and drying in unfortunate ways.

But over the past 60 years or so, acrylic paints have come a long way. Today they offer dazzling versatility and variety. They can imitate oil paints or watercolors, and have many unique properties of their own.

Polymer clay is another obvious example of plastic art. More commonly known by the brand names "Sculpey", "Fimo", and "Kato Poly Clay", this is a malleable product which hardens permanently when heated at a low temperature in a home oven. Like acrylic paint, its versatility astounds.

Other plastic-based art products: adhesives, varnishes, palettes, brushes, markers, rubber stamps - and on and on and on. What comes to your mind?

There is much to lament about life in the modern world - environmental degradation, dwindling resources, junk food. BUT: anything which expands our opportunities for positive self-expression can be called good. In that light, plastic is a blessing.

Visit "Meadow Front"

My parents live in an old cure cottage on a hill above Lake Flower, here in Saranac Lake; in this house I lived for 8 or 9 years growing up.

I can't rememeber how many times we would look out at the lake, comment on the seasonal changes, and say to each other, "We should take a photo out this window every month for a year!" - or something to that effect.

Needless to say, we never did.

I'll bet most of us have marveled at a familiar vista: as seasons melt from one to the next, how the landscape changes! How the colors develop and shift!

Someplace between Gabriels and Paul Smiths lies a meadow whose moods have been carefully, lovingly documented by the exceptional pastel artist Diane Leifheit. This year of work is showcased at the Adirondack Artists Guild through October 30th. One painting is reproduced here, above.

If you possibly can - GO.

The show comprises 28 paintings, each a view of some part of this meadow. There is also a digital photo frame which rotates snapshots, some of which appear to be direct reference material for the paintings.

12 small paintings (about 3.5" x 6", matted to 9"x12") follow the months chronologically, from January right through to December. These are like illuminated pages from a book of days - but better: the colors are so fresh and clear, you almost feel a breeze tickling your nose.

There are also a number of larger works, and a couple with grand dimensions.

Some of Diane's paintings are virtually impressionist - as is a stormy winter day, when solid objects are only discerned through a rippling veil of sleet or snow. Others have the brilliance of gemstones, flashing with light.

Did you imagine that snow is white? You never will again, once you have seen the shadow and sunlight of Diane's snowscapes. You will understand that snow is mauve, pink, violet, lilac, cobalt blue, cerulean blue, lemon yellow, phthalo green, and more.

This is also true of clouds.

Soft pastel is a difficult medium (see my earlier posts). Also, no matter what you do, it is messy. It's not possible to work in soft pastel sticks without getting pigment on your fingers, clothes, hair, face, work surface, dog, spouse ...

Looking at Diane's paintings, so potent and full of color, I can only suppose she and her family have endured a great deal of pigment dust. For this, and for her year of devoted attention to one North Country meadow, give thanks! For thereby is our world richer.

Values Family

A few days ago I wrote of Mark Kurtz's splendid photography, and I mentioned his use of tone, or value. The more I learn, the more I realize how crucial value is. Let's take a closer look.

When artists refer to value in this context, we do not mean the price our work will fetch. Rather, we mean how light or dark something is.

Look out a window on a sunny day. Are some areas bathed in direct sunlight? Do you see places of deep shadow? Look further: - do you see shadows of less depth than the darkest one?

Study whatever you see out the window. Identify as many gradations of shadow as possible. Chances are, you will be able to find four, or six, or maybe even more levels of shadow between dazzling brightness and utter darkness.

This is value.

When you create an image, your treatment of value will be the skeleton of your composition.

Many artists begin the painting process with a value study. This is a simple sketch of your subject in which you indicate the three or four primary gradations of darkness to lightness.

Above is a value study I made of the rascally red squirrel who thinks he owns my birdfeeders. I photographed him on a sunny morning, and used that shot as my reference.

To study the values of my photo, I indicated the deepest shadows in his fur with dark, heavy shapes. I sketched in lighter strokes the areas of lesser shadow. Finally -because this is a simple, three-level value sketch - I left clear his curve of head, fringe of tail, and other areas directly in the sun.

When I began to paint this image, I referred back to my value sketch as well as to the original photo. This helped me remember the discoveries I had made, and translate them into color.

Books have been written on this subject, and I am sure it is one to which we shall return. But for now, especially if this is new to you, spend time studying light, shadows, and the permutations between.

"Art Takes a Village" in Adirondack Life

The latest issue of Adirondack Life magazine (Dec. 2008) features a long, thoughtful article by Mary Thill titled "Art Takes a Village: A Creative Cure for Saranac Lake's Downtown".


Thill traces the lure of Saranac Lake's natural beauty and community life to the proliferation of arts related activities, events, and businesses. Despite the lack of a "central organizing force", the arts, she points out, are an increasingly significant element of this town.


The article is illustrated with layered, refracted photo collages by Aaron Hobson - gem-like art works in their own right.


There is also a list, titled "Affairs of the Art", of venues and events. Did you know that 7444 Gallery is hosting art from Clarkson University in early November? I didn't!

Did you realize that the ACNA's Cover Art show will be at the Cantwell Room next month? I didn't know that either!


If you can get your hands on a copy, read it. It's exciting.

Broadway Hit

If you are looking for a great place to enjoy art in Saranac Lake, don't miss Mark Kurtz Photography, a gallery on Broadway right near the river. Although his hours aren't quite as regular as a shopkeeper's, Mark is usually there futzing on his computer or puttering in his darkroom.

-Yes, you read that right: this is a photographer who still uses a darkroom! Now, I love the instant gratification of digital cameras, and Mark uses them in his commercial work, but he still keeps to the old-fashioned, hands-on darkroom for his fine art.

His work is ethereal. Whether it's a view of the Adirondack High Peaks, or the Brooklyn Bridge, or a cobble stoned walkway in Europe, he leads us beyond this world. The Greek word kairos perfectly expresses Mark's landscapes: he brings you to a time outside of time.

He also works in tone, or value, rather than color. Value forms the underlying structure of most works in color - but Mark clears the color away to reveal inherent compositional elegance.

(I will write more about value in future posts - those of us drawn to color often overlook it, to our peril.)

Besides all this, Mark is a great conversationalist! If you ask, he'll tell you about the times, places, and methods of his work. He has a fascinating collection of antique cameras, he knows how to use them, and he'll gladly explain. Further, he is plugged into the community and the arts world more than most three citizens you'll ever meet.

So stop by - next to the oldest bridge in town, on Broadway, in Saranac Lake. You'll be glad you did.

Thought Required

A few posts ago I wrote about art that has a message.

(Okay, you could say that ALL art has a message - I wouldn't disagree!)

What I mean, though, is art created as commentary - Picasso's Guernica, for example, which expresses horror at a specific atrocity: the 1937 bombing of a Spanish town.

To tell the truth (and this is horrible too), we live in a world so full of atrocity and suffering that I might never have remembered the story of Guernica were it not for that unforgettable art work.

I think that was Picasso's intention.

So - who creates art to chronicle today's outrages?

One artist whose work speaks to me is Valerie Patterson. She lives in the North Country and paints watercolor in a style both luminous and crisp. Her realistic imagery jolts the mind in a way that requires thought.

Take a look - see what YOU think.

More Places to See (and Buy!) Art

A reader called "adkart" left this helpful comment about art in Lake Placid:

Hi Susan...so glad you are pointing out some wonderful places for folks to view original art in the area...when in Lake Placid, you might want to stop in the Lake Placid Public Library and go downstairs to view regional artists' work in the Guy Brewster Hughes art gallery...it is off the Computer room and is handicapped accessible by elevator as well. The Downtown Diner on Main St. has ever changing work for sale by members of the Adirondack Artists' Guild and out on Sentinel Rd. is an art gallery called "Point of View" which features a variety of artists working in various media.

I have been in the lovely little library of Lake Placid (say that 3 times fast!), but I had not realized they have a gallery space there ... I was likewise unaware of the other venues.

Also, in Saranac Lake, I totally neglected to mention several other great places to look at & buy art.

Two Horse Trade Company is on Broadway in the heart of town. Carla, the owner, is an artist who creates gorgeous works in all sorts of media: leather, gemstones, beads, deer antlers, bird feathers, as well as pencil and paint. I often shop there for gifts of jewelry. She also sells things made by others - including both real and pretend swords and knives. (My 14-yr-old son's latest acquisition is a wooden Claymore...) Further, Carla sells beads, wires, leather, and lots of fun stuff to use in creating your own treasures. If you're in Saranac Lake & you love creativity, don't miss it.

Another excellent place to buy jewelry and crafts is the Twin Crystal Rock Shop, owned & operated by lapidary artists Kean and Kasey Reilly (and yes, they are twins). Besides their own pieces, they carry work by other area artists. Their store is across the street from Two Horse Trade.

What have I forgotten? Write a comment & share YOUR favorite art spots!

I Plight Thee My ... Lucre

When I was a kid, the only radio I ever heard was public radio ... not that I paid much attention. But when I was older, I started listening to it, and became addicted.

Except: for a week in the fall and in the spring, I would snort in disgust and snap the reciever off when I heard - oh no! they're fundraising again!

I missed it during those weeks.

One year - I forget exactly when - I didn't turn it off. I guess I was curious. I started listening to the fund raiser, and - I had to admit, they were right. I couldn't manage without public radio.

Whenever I bought a newspaper, I paid for it - magazines, too. How was this different? Besides that it was better?

But you know what? I still didn't pledge! I kept telling myself - other people will send them money. I don't really need to. (Can you believe it-??? I shame myself...)

Finally, I just couldn't stand it anymore. I don't remember what year it was when I picked up the phone, dialed the number, and made a pledge for the first time.

I DO remember how GREAT it felt!!!

I was astonished - I did this because I had admitted, grudgingly, that it was my duty. But it felt like I had finally scratched a mosquito bite which I had been trying to ignore.

WOW!!! What a great feeling!!!

Since then, well - not only am I addicted to North Country Public Radio itself, but I am addicted to helping to support it in any way I can.

And incidentally, although I grew up in the North Country, I have lived lots of other places over the years. I have been dismayed by the quality of most other public radio stations. I am spoiled: NCPR is so much more of a community than any other NPR station. I know these people, and I need them.

Do you?

Scratch that itch. Pledge.

The Eye of the Beholder ...

As I mentioned, The Adirondack Artists Guild is my favorite art space in Saranac Lake.

Just about every month, they hold a reception to open a new show. These receptions are great fun - lots of interesting people, lots of fine artwork, and lots of good food...

When I remember Guild receptions, I often chuckle at one in particular, some years ago now. It was a dark winter evening at the end of a full day when I told my 7-year-old son Evan that we were stopping by the Guild for an opening. He was less than enthusiastic, but I dragged him along anyhow.

We squeezed our way through a crush of cheerful people, and I soon fell into conversation with friends. Evan slumped into a corner chair.

Some while later, my son wriggled his way through the crowd and turned a shining, eager face up at me.

Breathless with excitement, he said, "Are these for sale?" My heart swelled with pride and joy: my little boy, the art lover!

"Why, yes they are, sweetheart!" I burbled. Wanting to nurture his enthusiasm, I crouched down next to him and looked up at a wall of paintings. "Which one do you like best?"

"Can I have that?" he asked, pointing in another direction. I looked down his finger - to a plate heaped high with brownies!

To HIM, it was the most beautiful sight in the room!

Where? Saranac Lake

Of all the hot spots for North Country art, Saranac Lake is the hottest. At least, I know more about the Saranac Lake art scene than any other. I will enumerate the places of which I am aware - again, please correct my omissions with your comments.

Bluseed Studios is a dynamic cultural center - an abandoned warehouse, rescued from its slow decay by Carol Vossler and re-imagined as a beacon of creativity.

Another former industrial site now houses the 7444 Gallery, right next to the train depot. Artist and owner Todd Smith rotates shows featuring works of local artists.

If you are near the depot, stroll down the street past the playground and you will see Greens & Beans, an eatery which offers yummy, healthy foods along with locally made artwork. In the same vein, the Blue Moon Cafe on Main St. fills its wallspace with the works of local artists to enhance your dining experience (which will be fabulous anyway!).

Never miss a chance to visit the Saranac Lake Free Library, near Berkley Green. Not only will you find yourself in an oasis of tranquility, but if you go downstairs you will find another gallery space, this one called the Cantwell Room. And, if your taste runs this way, a collection of taxidermy is just across the hall.

A wealth of art defines Main Street. Tim Fortune has a tiny but magnificant storefront, The Small Fortune Studio. I love to walk in and smell the paints, the papers, the very air of creation. And Tim has long been amongst my favorite artists anywhere.

A few doors down from Tim's place, Georgeanne Gaffney also has a small storefront studio. Her paintings are luminous and varied, featuring landscapes and figures bathed in light.

On the other side of the village parking lot, further down Main Street, is my own favorite spot - The Adirondack Artists' Guild. This Guild (co-founded by Tim Fortune 20 years ago) is a co-operative of 14 artist members, each of whom helps pay expenses. They take turns minding the shop, so on any given day, you don't know who will be there.

This place is practically a museum - but better, in a way, because the artists are people you can meet, and their work is available for purchase! In it, you will find a broad range of media on display. There are oil paintings, watercolors, and acrylic paintings -- but wait! There's more!

You will find works in silver and gemstones alongside fine pottery. One of the member artists works in fiber which she shears, combs, spins, naturally dyes, and weaves from her own flock of sheep.

Several of the members use cameras to produce images of all sorts. From near-abstract polaroid transfers, to sweeping Adirondack vistas, to close-ups that make familiar objects seem alien, the photographer members push the boundaries of their medium.

Do yourself a favor the next time you are in Saranac Lake: visit some - or all - of these venues, and revel in the riches of North Country art!

Where? Tupper Lake, Lake Placid

As I mentioned in an earlier post, our North Country is fanatastically rich in artistic expression. Want art? Go to some of these places...

In Tupper Lake, The Brick Oven Cafe hosts displays of work by local artists. On Oct. 25th, they will be opening a new show of work by Beth Johnson. Now, I haven't been there myself, but I've been told that the food could be called artwork as well!

Also in Tupper Lake is the Casagrain Gallery. Again, I have not been there - but I have seen some of Gary Casagrain's oil paintings displayed elsewhere, and I imagine his gallery would be well worth visiting.

Lake Placid boasts the Lake Placid Center for the Arts, a delightful multi-media treasure trove. They have two galleries, each with rotating shows of local work.

Lake Placid has recently opened a branch of a New York City art center, called 511Gallery. I've heard good things about it.

If you happen to be driving through the Olympic Village, keep your eyes open for large, modern sculptural structures hither and yon. Those were comissioned for the 1980 Olympics, and yet stand.

I am sure I have missed important places in which to see and enjoy the arts in Tupper Lake and Lake Placid ... Dear Reader, educate me by leaving a comment!

Why?

Have you ever looked at a piece of art and wondered, "Now, why did the artist make this?"

As far as I can figure, there are two main reasons we create.

1. Because we want/need to

2. Because someone pays us to

Now, these two motivators can certainly overlap - and happy for us when they do! Most of the time, though, for most artists I know, the more common reason is the first: we simply want or NEED to do this.

One artist friend of mine recently said, "All I know is, I'm supposed to make things." For many of us, it's that simple, and that powerful.

So then, how does a particular piece of art come to be?

It seems to me that, again, it boils down to two factors:

1. We wish to create something which has personal resonance for us

2. We have a message or an idea to communicate

I think these motivators overlap more often that the first two I mentioned!

Above on the right is a pastel painting I made of my dog ... I love my dog, and this image gives me happiness. At the most basic level, that is why I made the painting.

But not all images are happy. Sometimes, the message which must be communicated is ugly, frightening, disgusting. And sometimes this is the most powerful art of all.

The first time I saw Picasso's Guernica, above left, I was puzzled as to why the artist would create such an unattractive piece. Then I learned - and I looked more carefully - and I was horrified. I wept. Such can be the power of art.

Fascist and dictatorial regimes censor art and persecute disobedient artists, because they understand its power.

In upcoming posts, I will highlight local artists whose work tells us of uncomfortable things - as well as, of course, those whose work makes us happy.

Both types of art are important, and valid, and both need to be recognized.

To Boldly Go ...

Recently, someone gave me a magazine (with a CD-ROM) by Corel Painter X. I was initially puzzled, but soon realized that this represents a WHOLE new frontier: computer art!

I grew up in the waning decades of our last century; I don't think I ever so much as touched a computer until my senior year in college. I know that this does not disqualify me from achieving computer fluency, but so far, I haven't.

Actually, my friend Meg Bernstein is an accomplished computer artist, and I think she's my age (roughly). So the real truth is, I've been oblivious.

But now I'm intrigued. Meg uses Corel, and said she'll show me it sometime - because honestly, I couldn't make head or tail of the sample disc. (I felt a little better about this when Meg told me that it doesn't work well with a mouse. There's a stylus doo-hickey you need.)

I was even interested enough to research prices. Between the program and the stylus, it comes to a pretty penny.

From reading the magazine, however, I am curious. Apparently, you can imitate the effects of all kinds of media, from paints to charcoal to pastels and more. You can use photographs you've taken, or scan in your own artwork, or compose directly with the stylus.

Thinking about it kind of makes my head spin!

Is anyone reading this who has used such devices? Any comments?

Unsung Photographer

One medium at which I have never felt quite adept is photography. Sure, I can snap a shot, and some of my shots are pretty good, but as a vehicle for self expression - well, I've never quite made it that far.

I once read that a photographer uses the camera as a painter uses a brush - but I have never had a brush with f-stop controls, light meters, apertures... I greatly admire those who master this medium.

Many fine photographers live and work in the Adirondacks, and many have deservedly won renown. But not all...

Phil Gallos is one photographer who deserves more acclaim. He has lived in Saranac Lake for years, and in the 70s worked as a photojournalist for our local paper, the Adirondack Daily Enterprise. I first knew Phil as a suave, very patient bookstore clerk when I was a gangly, graceless (and no doubt irritating) teenager.

I had not realized that for decades, Phil has turned his keen intellect and sharp eye to an examination of Saranac Lake's history -both human and natural. His knowledge is encyclopedic.

Phil was a founder of Historic Saranac Lake, and served several terms on their board of directors. His book, Cure Cottages of Saranac Lake: Architecture and History of a Pioneer Health Resort, should be required reading for anyone who wants to gain insight into our unique architectural and cultural heritage.

He has also written extensively on Adirondack venturing. He penned large chunks of Discover the Northern Adirondacks and Discover the Adirondack High Peaks as part of Barbara McMartin's series. Sadly, his earlier book, By Foot in the Adirondacks, is now out of print.

It is so easy to take for granted that which we have always known - places and people alike.

When I visited his website the first time, I was blown away. He photographs the North Country with nuanced, radiant lucidity. Who knew? The photo above is one of my favorites, titled "The Oldest Bridge in Town".

I believe that great art can enable us to see the familiar in new ways. Phil's work is consummate art.

A Comment on Comments

Over the past days, a few people have gotten in touch with me and said they couldn't figure out how to leave a comment on this blog. That's a problem: this process needs to be interactive.

I think I know how to leave a comment - from time to time, I comment on Brian Mann's excellent election-related blog, "The Ballot Box" (if you haven't read it yet, I urge you to do so - you will learn).

So this is how I do it.

At the bottom of a post, there is a link that says "0 Comments" (or 1, or however many have been made). Click on this. You will be on a page with a box in which to type your thoughts.

Enter your comments into this box, and then scroll down. Next you will see a series of squiggly, meaningless letters, which you need to type into the space given. (This is some sort of fraud protection).

The last bit seems to trip people up. It says, "Choose your Identity", and it LOOKS as though you must be a Google member in order to submit your comment. However, scroll down a bit more, and you will see options for "Open ID", "Name/URL", or "anonymous". When I post to Brian's blog, I click the circle next to "Name/URL", and then type in my name. If you wish, you can enter a pseudonym or a nomme de plum (or a nomme de guerre? I hope not!).

After that, click "Publish Your Comment". It then gets routed to my e-mail, I read & approve it, and I click somewhere for it to be added to the post.

I hope that this works for everyone. If it doesn't, I would suggest you e-mail the NCPR web-meister, Dale, as follows: dale@ncpr.org. HE understands all this stuff!

I hope that all who read this will feel free to add thoughts, ideas, experiences - and I hope the system works!

You Can Do It!

SO: you may ask, Why has Susan been spending all this blog-time writing about art material technicalities?

Three reasons.

First, so that when you have the chance to look at someone else's art, you may better understand it.

Second, so that when I write about someone else's art, you may better understand me.

Third - and MOST IMPORTANTLY - so that YOU may feel empowered to create your OWN art!

Perhaps, dear reader, you already feel comfortable in expressing yourself through the arts. In that case, disregard what follows.

If, dear reader, you are among the legions I've met who say in mournful tones, "I'm not creative", or, "I have no talent", or, "I'm bad at art" - then I write this for you.

Of course you are creative. That's part of being human. Creativity can take any number of forms - whether you cook, garden, arrange furniture, explain things to a child - all of these are forms of creativity. That which we label "art" is but another form. And if you have wished to engage in art, to explore your capacity for it, but have not because you think you can't - I say - YES YOU CAN!!

"Talent" is highly overrated. Any artist in any medium will tell you that technique and practice are the keys to success. It is like learning a foreign language. To gain fluency, you study grammar, vocabulary, and then you practice. Guess what? It's the same with art!

When I teach art workshops, I never allow anyone to say "bad" or any synonym thereof. A piece of art which you create might not please you - it might actually disappoint you or even frustrate you. But this is good! For, in examining why it is so, you learn! Then, when you try again, you learn more. And so on - each time you try, you learn. The great Renaissance master Michelangelo famously said, near the end of his life, "I am still learning". We all are! This is one of the joys of being human: however old you are, whatever your previous life experience, you can still learn!

All it takes is courage and patience.

Pastel Teeth

Okay - now let's look at my new favorite medium: soft pastel.

As I've mentioned before, soft pastel sticks are made of pigment and binder. The best pastels - the richest in color - have the highest proportion of pigment to binder. The binder is usually a form of chalk or clay, and there's not a whole lot of it - so the pastel sticks are soft.

They are dry, and resemble regular chalk or crayons, but their softness makes them very different in application.

Remember that texture is one of the two main concerns in watercolor grounds? It's a HUGE issue with pastels. I'd say it's the single biggest issue. Paper weight, size, color - all these are secondary, even tertiary considerations. (By the way, another word for paper texture is "tooth".)

A highly textured ("toothy") ground will grip and hold those soft grains of pigment. If you draw a pastel stick across smooth paper, the pigment will slip off and fall away - which is a terrible waste, not to mention a frustration!

This textured ground can be made or purchased. There are several types of acrylic gels which produce texture, and can be spread on a firm surface to make a pastel ground. Some people use smooth acrylic gel and mix in granular material such as sand. I've heard of people using actual sandpaper, too.

Remember cold pressed and rough watercolor paper? They work for pastels, too. And of course, several manufacturers produce papers and boards specifically for pastels. Of these, textures vary.

My personal favorite ground for pastel is called Wallis paper: invented, manufactured, and sold by a pastel artist, Kitty Wallis. It has a deep, powerful tooth that grips as many layers of pigment as you could think to apply.

But really, as with watercolor papers, the best way to decide what works for YOU is to try several different grounds - play with them - and feel what you like best.

Grounds for Watercolor

So, back to grounds.

If you are working in watercolor paints or related media, you want to work on paper. (There is a product called watercolor canvas, but it is considered a bit exotic. I have never tried it.)

However, not all papers are created equal, and your choice of paper will make a world of difference in your work. Your two primary variables are weight and texture. (There are others, but let's keep things simple for now; these two are the most basic.)

"Weight" refers to - well - how heavy paper is. Specifically, if you stack 144 full sized sheets of this paper, what will that stack weigh? This weight is then used to identify individual sheets of any size. Thus, we refer to "50 lb paper" or "70 lb paper", and this gives an idea of what it will feel like, how it will perform.

Watercolor paper should be heavy so that when it gets wet, it won't fall apart or do strange things. Generally, the lightest will be 90 lb paper; 300 lb paper is cream of the crop. The basic standard is between these, at 140 lb.

Your other concern, texture, isn't as confusing as it may sound. Watercolor paper is usually classified as "hot pressed", "cold pressed", or "rough". All this means is, "smooth", "medium", or - you guessed it - "rough".

Hot pressed paper has a very smooth texture. Cold pressed paper is pretty bumpy. Rough paper is extremely bumpy.

Most watercolorists I know use cold pressed paper. They find the moderately coarse texture beneficial for holding the paint, and not so bumpy as to obscure subtlety of expression. However, artists who are rendering very detailed or intricate paintings - botanical illustrations, say - will often prefer the hot pressed, very smooth paper.

I always encourage people to physically touch different kinds of paper, when possible, before deciding what to try. Better still is to sit down and play with a few different types to see what suits your style.

What do YOU know?

Please, as you read this, bear in mind the limitations of this author. I am glad - thrilled, even - to share what I know, but my knowledge reflects my own experience, plus what other artists have told me, and things I've read.

In my last post, I didn't say much about grounds for oil because I don't KNOW much. I have used oil paint - and enjoyed it greatly - but only a few times, and only on canvas.

Are there any oil painters out there who can illuminate the subject?

Not Coffee Grounds

Okay, so you've got your medium of choice, with the proportion of pigment to binder that you like - now what?

You put it on something.

Whatever that "something" is, you can call it your "ground", as if you were scratching pictures in the dirt with a stick. As with media themselves, your choice of grounds is virtually endless, and often confusing.

For best results, match your ground to your medium.

Remember how I mentioned that the specific binder differentiates media? Those binders respond to different grounds in distinct ways - and no matter the quality of your medium, the wrong ground can drain it of all vibrancy, wasting resources and leaving you frustrated and discouraged.

Let us look, first, at grounds for acrylic and oil paints.

With these media, the most traditional ground is stretched, primed canvas - that is, heavy cotton cloth pulled taut over a wooden frame, fixed there, and slathered with at least three coats of a primer called gesso (say, "JESS-oh").

Another option for oil or acrylic paints is called canvas board: the cloth has been glued to a heavy cardboard backing, tucked in around the edges, and then primed. This choice is significantly less expensive than pre-stretched canvas.

Oil paint has historically been applied to wood, too - again, primer is helpful.

Acrylic paint, being a versatile medium, tends to work well on almost any firm surface: wood and composite materials, polymer and air hardened clays, stone. Most papers are suitable grounds for acrylic paints. Acrylics can even be used successfully on soft fabrics, metal, plastic, glass, ceramics, and tiles. (The paint may require specific additives or special treatments for the best results with these grounds.)

In my next post, I will look at grounds for watercolor - mostly paper, but with lots of choices.

Medium, Pigment, Binder

Before I write any more about art, or artists, I'd like to pause and clarify my language. Not all readers will understand my terminology without a few definitions.

First, let's look at the word "medium". In this context, it does NOT refer to a T-shirt size! In art, the word usually means that which you are using to express yourself. The plural is "media".

Yesterday we glanced at pastel: that is one medium. (Oil pastel and soft pastel are distinct media - we'll get to that another time.) Paint, charcoal, clay, stone - these are all different media: different tools, if you will, for self-expression. With creativity, you can use just about anything as a medium. A work which uses more than one medium is refered to as "multi-media" - for example, a watercolor wash over a graphite drawing.

(Just to be confusing, the word "medium" also has other meanings in art - but we'll worry about that another day.)

"Pigment", as I said yesterday, is color - except it's a more precise word. Pigment is actually the substance which creates a single, particular color. Many pigments are derived from natural materials, such as cobalt (a metallic chemical element), or cinnabar (a mineral). Many others are synthetic, invented in a laboratory. An example of this is anthraquinone (a derivative of anthracene), which creates a luscious blue.

Incidentally, when an art product gives the name of a color followed by the word "hue", this means that a pigment traditionally derived from a natural substance has been replaced by a synthetic version, as in "cadmium yellow hue", or "cobalt blue hue". Instead of using actual cadmium or cobalt, the manufacturer has substituted synthetic forms of those elements. Most artists find "hue" pigments functionally identical to their organic counterparts - at a significantly lower price. The pigment is the most expensive factor in creating a colored medium.

Yesterday I mentioned "binder". This refers to whatever substance is used to hold the pigment together - as flour does a roux. This is the fundamental difference between pigmented media. Cobalt blue may be the pigment, but whether it is held together by a polymer resin to make acrylic paint, or precipitated chalk to make a soft pastel, determines how the artist will use it.

The higher the proportion of pigment to binder, the higher the quality of the product. This is why different products in the same medium will vary wildly in price. A "student grade" product has less pigment and more binder, while a "professional grade" version of the same product has more pigment and less binder. The highest quality products contain the most pigment chemically possible, and produce the richest color with the least quantity of medium. In other words, a little goes a long way.

Now: once you have your preferred medium of a chosen pigment held by a certain binder, to what is it applied? That would be the "ground" - which I'll examine in my next post!

More on Color

Over the weekend I was musing on color - the subtlety, the variety, even within single color families. Herein lies part of my own impetus as an artist. I find color seductive. Even when I plant my flower boxes in the spring, the blooms I prefer are those of the deepest, most intense colors.

I have dabbled in many media through the years, and enjoy most of them. In the past I have worked primarily in acrylic paints, which delight me for their versatility. Of late, however, I have become intrigued by pastels.

A few days ago I urged anyone who reads this to visit the Adirondack Artists Guild to see the current show of Diane Leifheit's pastel paintings. I reiterate - especially if you love color - SEE IT.

The name of the medium, "pastel", is misleading, conjuring as it does a vision of soft pinks, pale yellows, and baby blues. However, it is merely pigment - i.e., color - with a small amount of binder to hold it together. (Think of "binder" as the flour mixed with melted butter that thickens a sauce.)

Because they contain a high proportion of pigment to binder, quality pastels produce intensely rich color. I have been studying Diane's work, and peppering her (or pestering, perhaps!) with questions whenever possible, to try to learn how to use and manipulate this medium.

It seems simple at first - you hold the stick of color and draw it across your surface - but that apparent simplicity is misleading. I will share my gleanings on technique in future posts. For now, if you find color compelling - or if you just love exqusite artwork, regardless of the medium - do yourself a favor and look at Diane's paintings.

If you can't make it to Saranac Lake, the link on Diane's name above will take you to a fine sampling.

Color

Yesterday morning I drove south-west across the Adirondacks, deep into Hamilton County. The sky changed from overcast, to clear, to cloudy again as I wound up and down the roads, causing sunlight to burst forth or vanish as I progressed.

As I rode, I marveled at the variety of colors unfolding before me on the mountains. Many artists know that the "primary" colors of red, yellow, and blue cannot be mixed from other colors - and yet, such a variety of reds, yellows, and blues there are!

Red, for example. In the changing foliage, I saw everything from cadmium red medium - which is virtually orange - to alizarin crimson, which treads the border of purple, and every rich gradation between. Do you know the red of a perfectly-ready-to-eat MacIntosh apple? I don't know what to call it, but many trees display it.

Why is it that we humans are able to perceive so many subtle variations in color? I am not a biologist, but I understand that my dogs, for example, do not see as many colors: their eyes lack the same color-sensitive structures as we have.

We are fortunate indeed. And as artists, what a challenge it is, to translate perception into expression.

Magnificent Opening

Tonight the Adirondack Artist' Guild is hosting an opening for their newest show, "Meadow Front", featuring pastel paintings by Diane Leifheit. The reception is from 5 - 7 (and these folks KNOW how to host a reception!).

If you possibly can, SEE IT. I've had a sneak preview, and the works are breath-catching. Diane is a master of pastel - a complex medium - and these works showcase her mastery through a multi-season study of one Adirondack meadow and forest area. When you see these pieces, you will gain a new vision of color, light, and form.

The show exhibits through November 1st, so if you can't swing by tonight, you have some time. The Adirondack Artists' Guild is on Main St. in Saranac Lake, next to the big village parking lot. It is open Tues - Sat 10 am - 5 pm, and Sun 12 - 3. (518) 891-2615
www.adirondackartistsguild.com

Welcome to Art Throb!

As most of you know, the North Country is fantastically rich in art of all kinds. Despite our low population density (look at a nighttime satellite map of New York), many obscure country roads and tiny side streets boast artists' studios, galleries, or various displays of unique vision. It can be quite startling if you don't expect it.

I have lived in, traveled through, and observed the North Country for thirty-odd years, and it thrills me to witness this wealth of expression - it wasn't always so.

Art Throb is a new forum for all of us who cherish the arts of our region to share our reflections, under the aegis of North Country Public Radio. I will offer my perspective from the heart of the Adirondacks, and I hope many others will chime in with comments regarding their own discoveries.