Since my last blog post in March, I have been going through a huge (and frankly, uncomfortable) transition in my work. Earlier this year, I mounted an exhibit called “Pause, Rewind, Play,” which was a look back at the landscapes from eight or nine years ago, pairing them for the first time with the geometric abstract art that has been the focus of my practice in recent years. I didn’t know it then, but it was the beginning of being drawn back towards landscape painting again.
In June, I traveled to Virginia with my friend Leslie to attend a workshop with tonalist landscape painter Justin Worell. I have always loved tonalist paintings and thought I might pick up a few new techniques, but I did not want to change my creative direction from abstract painting. Worell’s workshop was inspiring, and I returned home with fresh perspectives. I thought I would practice some techniques I had learned to commit them to memory.
Unexpectedly, once I started, I didn’t want to stop. There is something so wonderfully familiar about revisiting the landscape and painting in oils again after the eight-year hiatus. And although I hadn’t painted in this medium for a long time, I felt I had improved in the interim. This time, though, the landscape is reaching for a more dramatic and emotive place than before. I’ve been shy about sharing these because they seem so separate from the abstract work I’ve been doing, but now you can see a selection of them at Corners Gallery, here in Ithaca, NY. The collection, “The Firmament and Other Places,” focuses on the horizon, usually at dusk and dawn at the dramatic moment when darkness meets light.
When I transitioned into working with encaustic, I abandoned landscapes for geometric abstraction and thought I’d never look back. But here I am…right back where I started. It's not a path I thought I would take, but inspiration is a funny thing. It's not about what you think you want to do but what you are, in fact, compelled to create.
