Photos:John and Suzanne’s Mom. Joy Muller-McCoola’s fiber art piece “Rising,” at Lexington Art.
Textile artist Ann often digs me out of my rut to go see some fiber art and afterward have a nice lunch somewhere close by. Most recently, we went to a beautiful show at the Lexington Arts and Crafts Society in Lexington, Massachusetts.
I was drawn to the piece above because I love islands. This one is emerging from the sea in an unspoiled form. It felt hopeful. Below is one called “Sky with 7 Sheep.” It practically leapt from the wall.
After that, you can see the lovely “Light Breaking on Water,” by Ann Scott. And Sandra Mayo’s “The Way We Touch the World,” with the gloved hands, was intriguing.
What do these pieces mean to the artists? one wonders. What do they mean to me at a moment in time? And do meanings change?
That got me thinking that I never posted pictures of some works that I liked last fall at Concord Art. So I’ll add them now and wind up with my own attempt at an artsy photo. We can call it “Dawn at the Gym.”
Here is Nancy Mimno’s “Dragon.”
Sarah Bossert created “Four and Twenty Blackbirds.”
When a woman in Minneapolis died at the hands of government forces recently, I was impressed with a wise Twitter comment about how much you really have to look at something before speaking. @JeninYounesEsq began by saying, “I’m a former defense attorney and currently a civil liberties attorney with no political dog in this fight. I watched the video at least 10 times from different angles and at different speeds and waited to offer an opinion, which I still reserve the right to change if additional information changes the calculus.”
I thought about that when reading a Sarah Bahr “Times Insider” piece at the New York Times. It’s about how we all can train ourselves to notice more.
Bahr says, “When the New York Times reporters Larry Buchanan and Francesca Paris read about a Harvard art history professor who directed her students to spend three hours looking at a painting or a sculpture of their choice, they were intrigued. The assignment was designed to force students to slow down, to really focus on what is in front of them.
“So, Mr. Buchanan and Ms. Paris, who work on [the Times] Upshot desk, wondered: Could they recreate this experience virtually for Times readers?
“ ‘That is the hope of the series: Can we train you to focus? Can we help you think about these things in slightly different ways?’ said Mr. Buchanan, who has a fine arts background and whose work often explores the intersection of art and journalism.
“The first edition in the series titled ‘Test Your Focus: Can You Spend 10 Minutes With One Painting?‘ was published in July of [2024] — and readers, it turned out, were up for the challenge. One in four readers stuck with that painting, James Whistler’s 1871 ‘Nocturne in Blue and Silver,’ for the full 10 minutes — or, at least, kept it open in their browsers.
” ‘Giving readers a small but mighty reminder that you can slow down is a pretty powerful thing,’ Mr. Buchanan said of the more than 750,000 readers who spent some quality time with Whistler. ‘We were surprised how many people stayed.’ (The highest success rate of the series to date, he said, has been one of the Unicorn Tapestries from the late Middle Ages.)
“Each new installment in the series, which arrives on the first Monday of each month in the inboxes of newsletter subscribers and also appears online, draws from a mix of well-known and lesser-known work. Past challenges have included an Indian painting made in the foothills of the Himalayas in the early 1800s; Pieter Bruegel’s ‘Hunters in the Snow‘; and Vincent van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night.’ … The most recent edition features the Dutch artist Margareta Haverman’s ‘A Vase of Flowers.’
“Mr. Buchanan, Ms. Paris and Nico Chilla, a graphics multimedia editor at the Times who produces the interactive elements of the series, introduced their first abstract work in April: Lee Krasner’s ‘The Seasons.‘ A technical glitch meant that some readers initially saw a blue square for 10 minutes, but many stuck with the exercise anyway.
“After producing the series’s initial Whistler piece, Mr. Chilla, who has a background in digital design, worked with Mr. Buchanan and Ms. Paris to solicit feedback from readers about their experiences.
“ ‘The time was visible always in the first one, and people didn’t like that,’ he said of the on-screen timer, which they removed after the first challenge. ‘And we initially had a few prompts for how to look at the artwork, but a lot of people complained: “The words are getting in my way.” ‘ …
“Though the pieces offer ultraclose zoom capability, overall, they are purposefully free of distraction.
“ ‘We really want simplicity — just you and the image,’ said Mr. Buchanan, adding that the team had vetoed developing a challenge around a sculpture (for now), fearing that the 360-degree viewing experience required to fully take it in would be too distracting.
“For the team that works on the series, the project has been an enlightening experience. Mr. Buchanan said he had begun noticing subtle things in his own life, like how cracks zigzag across the sidewalk, or the way light hits the water, or the way a plant is squeezed against a rock. …
“Ms. Paris, who proudly proclaims herself the ‘art newbie’ on the team, adopted the exercise in real life, spending an hour at the Metropolitan Museum of Art with Théodore Géricault’s 1818 painting ‘Evening: Landscape with an Aqueduct.’
“ ‘It was a great hour,’ she said. ‘I like to think it’s made me linger a little longer with art and nature. It’s not life-changing, but I’ve never regretted the extra time I spent looking.’ …
“Readers’ comments have also been gratifying, Mr. Buchanan said. One man even devised his own version of the challenge: Look at a single piece of art for a total of 100 hours. He sends Mr. Buchanan periodic updates about his quest via email.
“ ‘I love that this has taken on a life of its own,’ Mr. Buchanan said.” More at the Times, here.
Would you want to try this, too? Maybe at a blog that has great art or photos. Rebecca at https://fakeflamenco.com/, for example, often does intriguing things with her camera. And Artist Meredith Fife Day has looked carefully for hours at the ficus she has painted in all its moods.
Photos: Isa Farfan/Hyperallergic. A light well at the recently reopened Studio Art Museum in Harlem.
Suzanne and Erik lived in Harlem before they moved to Rhode Island. They loved their apartment, and they loved being able to enjoy so many of the things New York City has to offer. One of the attractions of Harlem itself was the Studio Art Museum, which now has an impressive new building, after being closed from 2018 to 2025.
Isa Farfan writes at the art magazine Hyperallergic, “The Studio Museum in Harlem has a new, stunning home. The 57-year-old New York institution, dedicated to artists of African descent, [has] inaugurated its new building. …
“Founded by a group of artists and activists, the museum closed its 125th Street location in 2018 to undergo construction of a new building, the first specifically created for the arts institution. The Studio Museum originally opened at a site on Fifth Avenue before moving to its current home on 125th Street and Adam Clayton Powell Jr. Boulevard in the 1980s, the former New York Bank of Savings building. The striking 82,000-square-foot (~7,618-square-meter) new building at the same site was designed by Adjaye Associates with Cooper Robertson. …
” ‘I have truly missed having our physical space,’ Director and Chief Curator Thelma Golden told Hyperallergic. ‘In the years we’ve been closed, our visitors, friends, members, and artists have made it known how much they miss us; everywhere I go.’
“The museum is debuting a series of inaugural exhibitions, including‘Tom Lloyd,’ a one-gallery career survey of the artist-activist’s flashing light sculptures. Works from the museum’s approximately 9,000-item collection span three galleries as part of the exhibition ‘From Now: A Collection in Context,’ which will feature a rotating display.
“Though the construction was delayed in part due to the COVID-19 pandemic, Studio Museum Curator Connie Choi told Hyperallergic that the extended timeline gave the institution a chance to look deeper within itself.
” ‘It allowed us the opportunity to do a deep dive into understanding our collection holdings, to do research, conservation, and framing,’ Choi said. ‘We’ve also done a deep dive into our institutional history in a way that we haven’t been able to do before.’
” ‘We thought very hard about how to be present while closed,’ Golden added. During its seven-year closure,the institution launched several collaborations, including the traveling exhibition ‘Black Refractions: Highlights from The Studio Museum.’ …
“Choi said she’s most excited about the Lloyd survey, noting that he was the first artist to participate in the museum’s studio program.
” ‘It’s a space of contemplation, even as the works themselves are blinking and exciting,’ Choi said. ‘We are hoping that people can slow down; they are coming off of 125th street, which is the busiest street in Harlem, into a space that allows a moment of rest and respite and contemplation of artwork.’ “
More at Hyperallergic, here. The photos of the new building really make me want to see it.
Elizabeth Catlett’s “Mother and Child” (1993) on display in “From Now: A Collection in Context” at the Studio Art Museum.
Photo: Bob Ross Inc./AP. The late Bob Ross encouraged millions of Americans to make and appreciate art through his show The Joy of Painting, which has aired on PBS stations since 1983.
I once got an art kit from public broadcasting painter Bob Ross for my older granddaughter, a big fan. She was happy with the kit, but she did admit later that Ross made everything look easier on television than it really was.
Now we know that many other people not only liked Ross’s art, but want to support the medium where it was presented.
Rachel Treisman writes at National Public Radio (NPR), “The first of 30 Bob Ross paintings — many of them created live on the PBS series that made him a household name — have been auctioned off to support public television.
“Ross, with his distinctive afro, soothing voice and sunny outlook, empowered millions of viewers to make and appreciate art through his show The Joy of Painting. More than 400 half-hour episodes aired on PBS (and eventually the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) from 1983 to 1994, the year before Ross died of cancer at age 52. …
“His show still airs on PBS and streams on platforms like Hulu and Twitch. It has surged in popularity in recent years, particularly as viewers searched for comfort during COVID-19 lockdowns. … But his artwork rarely goes up for sale — until recently.
“In October, the nonprofit syndicator American Public Television (APT) announced it would auction off 30 of Ross’ paintings to raise money for public broadcasters hit by federal funding cuts. It pledged to direct 100% of its net sales proceeds to APT and PBS stations nationwide. Auction house Bonhams is calling it the ‘largest single offering of Bob Ross original works ever brought to market.’ …
“The first three paintings sold in Los Angeles on Nov. 11. for a record-shattering $662,000. Bonhams says the works attracted hundreds of registrations, more than twice the usual number for that type of sale. …
“Said Robin Starr, the general manager of Bonhams Skinner, the auction house’s Massachusetts branch, ‘These successes provide a solid foundation as we look ahead to 2026 and prepare to present the next group of Bob Ross works.’
“The next trio of paintings will be auctioned in Massachusetts in late January. The rest will be sold throughout 2026 at Bonham’s salesrooms in Los Angeles, New York and Boston. …
“Congress voted in July to claw back $1.1 billion in previously allocated funding for the Corporation for Public Broadcasting (CPB), leaving the country’s roughly 330 PBS and 244 NPR stations in a precarious position.
“CPB began shutting down at the end of September … and several local TV and radio stations have also announced layoffs and closures.
” ‘I think he would be very disappointed’ about the CPB cuts, [Joan Kowalski, president of Bob Ross, Inc.] said of Ross. … I think this would have probably been his idea.” Kowalski, whose parents founded Bob Ross Inc. together with the painter in 1985, said Ross favored positive activism over destructive or empty rhetoric. …
“The Ross auction aims to help stations pay their licensing fees to the national TV channel Create, which in turn allows them to air popular public television programs. … Bonhams says the auction proceeds will help stations — particularly smaller and rural ones — defray the cost burden of licensing fees, making Create available to more of them. …
“The 30 paintings going up for sale span Ross’ career … include vibrant landscapes, with the serene mountains, lake views and ‘happy trees’ that became his trademark.
“Ross started painting during his 20-year career in the Air Force, much of which was spent in Alaska. That experience shaped his penchant for landscapes and ability to work quickly — and, he later said, his desire not to raise his voice once out of the service.
“Once on the airwaves, Ross’ soft-spoken guidance and gentle demeanor won over millions of viewers. His advice applied to art as well as life: Mistakes are just ‘happy accidents, talent is a ‘pursued interest,’ and it’s important to ‘take a step back and look.’ …
“In August [before any talk of a public television fundraiser] Bonhams sold two of Ross’ early 1990s mountain and lake scenes as part of an online auction of American art. They fetched $114,800 and $95,750, surpassing expectations and setting a new auction world record for Ross at the time. Kowalski says that’s when her gears started turning.
” ‘And it just got me to thinking, that’s a substantial amount of money,’ she recalled. ‘And what if, what if, what if?’ “
More at NPR, here. A few days ago funder CPB announced it was shutting down. But, by hook or by crook, public tv will carry on.
Photo: Carol M. Highsmith/Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division. “The Wealth of the Nation,” by Seymour Fogel, 1942, located in the Wilbur J. Cohen Federal Building, Washington, DC.
I’m a huge fan of the giant New Deal murals that gave brilliant artists work to do in lean times. I suppose the art has always been in danger of being covered over or removed as post offices and other public building have been remodeled. But right now the danger seems to be coming from the federal government’s current push to rewrite history.
Gray Brechin writes at the Living New Deal website that the federal government aims to sell the “Sistine Chapel” of New Deal art.
The murals of Ben Shahn, Brechin says, “in the old Social Security Administration headquarters in Washington, DC, were a problem, a docent privately told me when I toured the building in 2012.
“The building, which faces the National Mall, was by then occupied by the Voice of America. Visitors from around the world made reservations to tour the building as had I. Some of Shahn’s murals, painted when the building opened in 1940, the guide told me, suggested to visitors that poverty and racism existed in the land of the free.
“But Shahn and other artists commissioned to embellish the building also showed how Roosevelt and Frances Perkins’ Social Security programs had not only alleviated those problems, but had distributed America’s abundance so as to give everyone, rather than a few, a richer and more secure life than they had known before the New Deal.
“Shahn’s fresco series ‘The Meaning of Social Security,’ is the most prominent of the murals in the now renamed Wilbur J. Cohen Building. Other artworks also carry themes of security and American life, among them ‘The Security of the People’ and ‘Wealth of the Nation’ by Seymour Fogel, ‘Reconstruction and Well-Being of the Family,’ by Philip Guston and granite reliefs by Emma Lu Davis. Some artworks were inaccessible when I toured the building.
“With Voice of America workers abruptly evicted on March 15 of this year [2025] and the agency itself facing extinction, the public is now forbidden access to the building altogether. The current administration hopes to speedily dispose of it and three others in the vicinity by the end of the year. A buyer could demolish the building. … Planning guidelines, reviews and preservation itself matter little if at all.
“As Timothy Noah explains in the New Republic … the General Services Administration (GSA), which owns the Cohen Building has itself been gutted in the administration’s drive to, in Grover Norquist’s words, ‘drown the government in the bathtub.’
“That Shahn’s murals depict a harsh reality worried me well before the administration began editing displays and signage that cast a less than a flattering light on US history at the Smithsonian Museums, National Parks, and other federal institutions. That federal buildings could be sold wholesale also concerned me more than a decade ago when the US Postal Service began quietly disposing of historic post offices, many of them containing New Deal art.
“One of those buildings, now in private hands, is the monumental Bronx General Post Office for which Ben Shahn and his wife Bernarda Bryson painted thirteen murals in 1937 depicting laboring Americans while Walt Whitman, painted at one end of the once-stately lobby, lectures those workers on their responsibility to democracy. Closed in 2013 and sold twice since then, the future of that structure, like the old Social Security Building, remains unclear, with development plans in the works.
“Once among America’s foremost painters, Ben Shahn’s artistic stock fell with the rise of abstract and pop art after World War II. Abstraction had little room for the kind of social realism in which Shahn and Bryson were masters.
“A recent exhibition at New York City’s Jewish Museum spanning Shahn’s career was testimony to Shahn’s lifelong concern for social justice and the issues addressed by the New Deal.
“Dr. Stephen Brown, a Jewish Museum curator, says that ‘Ben Shahn is one of the great American artists of the twentieth century who believed in the value of dissent and the essential function of art of a democratic society.’
“Himself an immigrant from Lithuania, Shahn’s two great mural cycles depicting his hopes for his adopted country are closed and off limits to the very public which paid for and ostensibly owns them. Gracing buildings that the present administration values only for the real estate beneath them, Shahn’s art and that of others … now face an uncertain future.”
Brechin adds that if anyone wants to help save the Wilbur J. Cohen Building, they may “sign and share the petition.” More at Living New Deal, here.
I have previously written about reviving hidden or forgotten New Deal murals — as in one post about Harlem, here.
Photo: Fahad Shah. In Srinagar, India, Syed Maqbool Rizvi paints intricate floral patterns on a decorative box made of papier-mâché.The ancient craft is dying out.
In reading about traditional crafts in danger of dying out as its elderly practitioners die, I keep thinking about recent posts on young artists taking crafts in new directions. (Consider the Navajo weaver, here, and the bojagi artist, here.) I wonder if such an evolution can emerge in a politically turbulent place like Kashmir. Ancient decorations now cover more than boxes, but who will take it to the next level? The current popularity belies the unsustainable bottom line for the workers themselves.
Reporting from India for the Christian Science Monitor, Fahad Shah writes, “Papier-mâché dates back hundreds of years in Kashmir. Local folklore credits the 14th century Sufi saint Mir Sayyid Ali Hamadani with bringing the craft to this Himalayan region from Iran, and it flourished under a series of sultans, quickly becoming a symbol of Kashmir’s cultural identity.
“But for a long time, the art form was limited to decorative boxes and other items molded from paper pulp. … These days, the iconic designs popularized by traditional papier-mâché items can be found on bags, leather jackets, and home decor. Artisans apply their intricate designs on unconventional materials like steel, glass, and porcelain, using industrial paints for durability.
“This creative evolution has expanded papier-mâché’s market appeal, with a new generation of clientele emerging – a group that includes interior designers, a local urban bourgeoisie, and international buyers. …
“It’s a relief – of sorts – to the Kashmiri artisans who have watched similar local crafts die out in recent years. To be sure, papier-mâché artisans continue to struggle with low wages and a lack of new talent entering the craft. Yet Hakim Sameer Hamdani, an architectural historian and design director for the Kashmir section of the Indian National Trust for Art and Cultural Heritage, says the industry itself is performing better now compared with 20 or 30 years ago. …
“He says, ‘The internet’s role, especially social media and WhatsApp, in design inspiration and market expansion has further driven demand, allowing artisans to reach global buyers directly and removing middlemen.’
“In Srinagar city, Jammu and Kashmir’s summer capital, papier-mâché art adorns the walls and ceilings of everything from Sufi shrines and mosques to homes and hotels. It can also be spotted in the windows of boutiques, where tourists and locals alike browse ornate bags or leather jackets. Mohammad Ismail, a retired educationist in Srinagar who collects papier-mâché art, says artists are always innovating.
“In papier-mâché, ‘the main focus is the design,’ he says, as he leaves a shop with a newly purchased bag. ‘It is the color and the pattern, whether it is on a glass or paper, that is authentic.’
“Around the world, demand for classic papier-mâché designs – applied to modern products – is growing, says Rahul Dhar, founder of e-commerce platform Treasures of Kashmir. He’s been selling Kashmiri handicrafts since 2020, and in the last few years, interest in papier-mâché jewelry has surged on his platform. …
“For artists, customer enthusiasm doesn’t always translate into prosperity. From his home in a historic neighborhood of Srinagar, Syed Maqbool Rizvi paints intricate floral patterns on a decorative box. His day started at 9 a.m. and will end at midnight. Despite having a loyal customer base that he communicates with via WhatsApp, he only earns the equivalent of about $5 for an entire day’s labor.
“The award-winning, seventh-generation papier-mâché artisan will be the last in his family to master the craft. His children – a son and a daughter – have chosen different paths.
“ ‘There were many families known for this craft, but their children have moved on,’ Mr. Rizvi says. ‘Everyone looks for private jobs these days – who can afford to sit from morning till night for this kind of work?’
“Government loans during the pandemic helped, he says, but it’s become almost impossible to make ends meet through papier-mâché alone.
“Historian Bashir Ahmad Maliyar, whose doctoral thesis examined the evolution of Kashmir’s Mughal-era arts, crafts, and trade, says it will take more aggressive interventions to reverse the decline in active artisans.
“Without policies that ensure fair wages, incentivize arts education, and promote the region’s crafts, ‘papier-mâché will vanish within 10 to 20 years,’ he says. ‘People may still practice it in isolated ways, but once the art dies, reviving it will be difficult.’ ”
Photo: Peter Ellzey. DY Begay in her weaving studio in Santa Fe, New Mexico, in 2022.
Traditions often gain strength and durability when the spirit behind them is reinterpreted through a new generation’s sensibilities. A case in point: the way the weaving and dyeing of Diné artist DY Begay has enriched a traditional Navajo craft.
They write, “For over four decades, artist DY Begay expanded the expressive range of Diné (Navajo) weaving, transforming the form into a language that is entirely her own. She is a Diné Asdzą́ą́ (Navajo woman), born to the Tótsohnii (Big Water) clan and born for the Táchii’nii (Red Running into Water/Earth) clan. Her maternal grandfather is of the Tsénjíkiní (Cliff Dweller) clan and her paternal grandfather is of the Áshįįhí (Salt People) clan.
“Begay is a fifth-generation weaver who was raised in Tsélání (Cottonwood) on the Navajo Nation, where her family’s sheep flock still resides. Rooted in Diné Bikéyah (Navajo homelands) — from the cliffs of Tsélání to the horizon of the Lukachukai Mountains — her work reflects the blended hues of sunsets, mesas, and mountain ranges, while her use of wool from her family’s flock and natural dyes binds her practice to the land she seeks to honor and protect.
“After graduating from Arizona State University in 1979, Begay moved to New Jersey and immersed herself in the fiber art world of New York City. She studied historic Diné textiles at the Museum of the American Indian, whose collections later became part of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian (NMAI). Most of these pieces were created by Diné weavers whose names were not recorded, likely women. She also took inspiration from the work of artists such as Anni Albers, Sheila Hicks, and Lenore Tawney — all of whom trained in modern Western traditions yet studied Indigenous weaving practices. …
“When she returned to Tsélání in 1989, her grandmother, Desbáh Yazzie Nez (1908–2003), saw her weavings and urged her to develop her own compositional sensibility. Begay quickly gained recognition at the Heard Museum Guild Indian Fair and Market as well as the Santa Fe Indian Market, yet she felt restless in her practice. By 1994, that questioning crystallized into a breakthrough: She began developing color hatching, a method of creating subtle gradations and nuanced color interactions that transformed the solid, banded designs of conventional Diné weaving. …
“In August, Begay spoke with us over Zoom from her home in Santa Fe. The interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
Sháńdíín Brown and Zach Feuer “In Sublime Light: Tapestry Art of DY Begay, the first book dedicated to you and your recent retrospective at the NMAI, you write about watching your mother and grandmother weave in the hogan. …
DY Begay “I don’t remember the very first time I picked up weaving tools and set a loom on my own. I was very young. I do remember standing behind my mother’s loom, watching her pull colored yarns over and around the warps. Her fingers moved swiftly in and out, pressing the wefts into place. Within minutes, geometric shapes stacked and formed into the outline of a Ganado-style weaving. At that age — maybe four or five — I could not quite comprehend how those shapes came together. I was always perplexed and in awe. Everything happened so fast in front of me as her hands composed lines and rows of colored yarn.
“I grew up surrounded by weavers: my maternal grandmother, my mother, and my aunts. Someone was always at the loom, often positioned in a very central place inside the hogan. And we lived in the hogan when I was growing up, and everybody else did too.
“I watched my mother create stepped patterns with hand-dyed yarns, moving with precision and grace. Teaching came through showing. It was a physical action. The word that I always remember, and is still used today, is kót’é — ‘like this.’ My mother said ‘kót’é, kót’é.’ …
SB & ZF “Do you remember the moment when you first began weaving yourself — whether your family set up a loom for you or you started working on theirs?
DB “I was very curious. I tried to hold my mother’s tools, but they were too big for my hands. … Eventually, she allowed me to sit with her once in a while and said ‘kót’é, kót’é.’ I began to get used to the natural action of tapping with the combs. I was about eight years old when I had my own loom. I don’t remember its size. My mother prepared the warp and I used leftover yarn from her bin. I do remember finishing my first weaving, maybe two colors. It was pretty decent for a first attempt. It was a good learning situation because my mother was there. She would sometimes unweave certain parts and we would go on. …
“Most finished weavings, maybe two by three or three by three feet, and some saddle blankets, were taken by my father and my grandfather to the local trading posts to exchange for food, fabric, or whatever was needed. My mother never went to the trading post herself — we didn’t have a vehicle then, so transportation was by wagon or horses. They would roll up the weavings, pack them, and take them to the trading post. …
“In weaving ‘Pollen Path,’ I wanted to share a cultural belief. Among the Diné, we sprinkle corn pollen to honor a new day, to seek blessings, and to bring balance into our lives. Corn itself is a sacred plant. The pollen is collected in late summer, when the tassels of the corn begin to pollinate. We gather it in the early morning, just before the sun rises. For me, ‘Pollen Path’ reflects peace, beauty, and gratitude for life.
“The project began in the summer of 2007, a very good year for growing plants that I use in dyeing my wool. My sister, Berdina Y. Charley, planted local corn seeds she received from our Táchii’nii (Red Running into Water/Earth) relatives. I believe these were heirloom seeds from our Táchii’nii family. …
SB & ZF “How do you translate the experience of walking in beauty, through the landscapes of Diné Bikéyah (Navajo Country) and more specifically your home of Tsélani (Cottonwood), into the two-dimensional form of weaving?
DB “Not only do I have my Tsélani landscape embedded in my mind, but I frequently photograph the surrounding textures at various times of the day to capture different lighting as it reflects on the terrain. …
SB & ZF “Can you tell us about your color palette and the process of dyeing the wool? Is it essential for you to use and make dyes that are from the earth?
DB “I have been practicing and experimenting with natural dyes for quite a while, and I love using local plants to create my color palette. It is both essential and traditional in my culture to use what the earth provides to create dyes for our yarn.
“My palette comes from many sources. I work with common plants such as cota (Navajo tea), chamisa, rabbitbrush, and sage. I also use non-native materials like insects, fungi, foods, and flowers. Each has its own season, and I collect plants according to the time of year.
“The process itself is an experiment every time. I’ve studied many dyeing methods and learned to be attentive to formulas that help obtain and preserve the colors. For me, making dyes from the earth is not only practical but also deeply connected to tradition and creativity.”
More at Hyperallergic, here. No paywall. Subscriptions encouraged.
Photo: Charlie Rubin/Kasmin, New York. An example of sculpture by Alma Allen, ‘Not Yet Titled‘ (2024). He is the artist chosen by a conservative art group to represent the US in the 61st VeniceBiennale.
With all the sinister goings-on in the world, you might think that something strange in the art world would be the least of our worries. But this creepy story really got under my skin, and I’m wondering what the artists among you have to say about it.
Ben Davis reports at Artnet that the administration “has picked its artist for the 61st Venice Biennale. After months of speculation and much confusion, the artist to represent the U.S. will be Mexico-based sculptor Alma Allen, in a pavilion organized by curator Jeffrey Uslip. The sponsor is the American Arts Conservancy (AAC).
“But what is this organization, now vaulted front and center of the international art conversation, which no one I know has ever heard of? I was perplexed. So I took a spin around the internet to get a sense of what its chops were. Here are some observations.
“If no one has heard of the Tampa-based AAC, this is because it was founded only in July of this year. The press release is so poorly edited that it repeats the same quote by executive director Jenni Parido twice.
“The fact that this gaffe stands, four months later, as AAC takes on the most high-profile job in the arts, might put into question their professionalism in organizing a major international art exhibition. …
“Parido is an enigma on the art scene. According to her LinkedIn, her primary work experience is as the founder of Feed Pet Purveyor, a Tampa vendor specializing in natural foods for pets, which she ran from 2014 to 2023. …
“Frank Bardonaro was named president of the AAC board of directors in late August; he’s the CEO of the Houston-based Brock Group, a conglomerate that provides scaffolding, insulation, and the like for industrial and commercial customers. John Mocker, who serves as board secretary, is head of a pipe distributor, LB Industries.
“Mocker distinguishes himself as arty in this company because his biography identifies him as a collector of ‘American and international art.’ I’m interested! All I was able to find out, though, was that he also had a bit part in the unknown 2024 Abigail Breslin feature Chapter 51 directed by photographer Tyler Shields. …
“Ryan Coyne joined the AAC board as treasurer in September. He is best-known for running Starboard, a digital marketing, media, and government relations business. Among other things, it owns BizPac Review, which promises ‘breaking news and analysis unfiltered by the liberal bias that has eroded the media’s credibility.’ Starboard is probably best known for purchasing Parler, the right-wing Twitter clone, in 2023. Coyne also runs We the People Wine, ‘America’s Favorite Patriotic Wine.’
“Finally, AAC vice president Janet Steinger is a socialite married to superstar Palm Beach personal-injury lawyer Michael Steinger. …
“ ‘The Conservancy brings together a national network of curators, scholars, educators, artists, and patrons who believe in the transformative power of the arts,’ AAC boasted when it launched. Let’s take a look at what that means. The advisory board includes: curator Jeffrey Uslip, who is helming the Alma Allen pavilion in Venice, socialite Mackenzie Brumberg, socialite Nicola Verses … Nicole McGraw, a Palm Beach art dealer and former CEO of Jupiter NFT Group [now] ambassador to Croatia … artist Brendan Murphy, who made a diamond-encrusted spaceman sculpture for a Four Seasons in Riyadh … photographer, artist, and Web3 entrepreneur Brandon Ralph. …
“One name on the advisory board list, Madison Wright, remains an unknown, as the AAC site does not identify or provide links for its advisory board, just names. ‘Mathew Taylor’ and ‘Michelle Taylor’ are also listed. ‘Mathew’ seems to be a misspelling of ‘Matthew.’ It probably refers to a filmmaker who goes by both M.A. Taylor and Matthew Taylor, depending on whether he is directing films about conservative politics or art. He has directed both Marcel Duchamp: The Art of the Possible (2019), about the famed father of conceptual art, and Government Gangsters (2024) [about] Kash Patel‘s book about a deep state conspiracy. …
“The other big initiative AAC is pushing is the ‘Passport to Patriotism: America 250’ exhibition, which it says will happen next year. ‘Children ages 5–15 are invited to submit original works that express what patriotism means to them,’ for possible inclusion. …
“The ‘children’s art’ used to illustrate the contest has the hallmarks of very bland A.I., including [one] where Lady Liberty has six fingers, and the stripes on the flag inexplicably flip colors. …
“A bare-bones official website for the U.S. pavilion now exists. On Instagram and Facebook, AAC posted a short statement about the vision of the show.”
Maybe I read too many murder mysteries, but the thin online presence of these entities sure do suggest the shell companies I’m currently reading about in a novel by Richard Osman.
Photo: John and Suzanne’s Mom. Chunghie Lee‘s bojagi style “No-Name Women Paper DuRuMaGill”: photo images silk-screen-printed on Korean mulberry paper dyed with ground oriental ink stick. At Lexington Arts in Massachusetts.
My friend Ann, the textile artist, put me on to a new/ancient type of quilting and fabric art. It’s from Korea and it’s called bojagi.
According to the websit for Beyond Above Publications, “Bojagi (Bo-Jah-ki), or wrapping cloth, is the ancient Korean folk tradition of making pieced textiles for both everyday and ceremonial use. Originally made by anonymous housewives to fulfill a practical need along with an artistic impulse, Bojagi and its techniques have recently gained attention outside of Korea due to the increasing interest in the value of handmade items, as well the use of recycled materials and the politics of sustainability in textiles and contemporary art.”
I would never know about this type of thing, but Ann is on every email list imaginable for textile art in Greater Boston and beyond. So one day I headed over to Lexington Arts and Crafts to see contemporary bojagi by artist Chunghie Lee.
Apart from appreciating Lee’s skillful needlework, I was struck by her use of sustainable materials: previously used fabrics, mulberry paper, and ground-up ink sticks for red and black dyes. Especially moving was her focus on “no-name women,” the anonymous people behind this technique to make scraps of cloth go far. Women unknown and unappreciated.
You have to look closely to see them. Lee brings them into her work with silk screens of old-time photos, barely visible. Which is why for this piece I am showing you only a close-up.
Close-up of silk bojagi “no-name women” piecework by Chunghie Lee.
Here is more detail from the publishing company Lee founded with Jiyoung Chung, a visual artist inspired by the Joomchi papermaking tradition.
“From traditional women’s work to contemporary sustainable textiles, bojagi works include delicately pieced and hand-stitched traditional bojagi, reinterpreted bojagi, wearable pieces, installations, and wall hangings.
This uniquely Korean art form made by anonymous ancestors has evolved from functional works into a contemporary art form that is embraced worldwide.
“Since the late 14th century, every household, from the royal palace to the thatched-roof hut in a mountain village, has found these wrapping cloths indispensable. The tradition of making and using bojagi was established during the Josun Dynasty (1392 – 1910), when women were restricted from leaving their households. To spend the long, tedious hours of the day, girls were taught to sew at age ten, and needlework became a big part of their lives as they moved into adulthood. This folk art tradition was the only escape from the sequestered lifestyle of Korean women, and provided them with an artistic outlet for creative expression.”
Chunghie Lee adds, “I see this patchwork as a metaphor for human life. We may feel ourselves to be as random pieces of fabric, alone and without meaning, but God’s hand places us together in a beautiful composition, which has great harmony and meaning. As artists of all nationalities, generations and heritages, we discover we are all alike, and have been saving and making beautiful things with discarded fabric and other materials. In the eyes of artists, fabric scraps can be transformed and repurposed to fulfill the design and vision of the creator.”
More on bojagi at the website for publishing company Beyond Above, here. Follow Lee on Facebook, here.
Below, ChunghieLee’s contemporary version of Korean piecework, followed by her careful stitching for “No-name Woman with Head Covering.”
Photo: Robles Casas & Campos. The painting by Italian artist Giuseppe Ghislandi in a living room in Mar del Plata. The 18th-century painting ‘Portrait of a Lady’ (Contessa Colleoni) was stolen by an SS officer and rediscovered this year in Argentina.
Guilty secrets don’t stay hidden forever. It may take a long time, as in today’s story about Nazi loot, but more often than not, truth eventually surfaces.
Facundo Iglesia and Jon Henley write at the Guardian, “There was nothing very remarkable about the middle-aged couple who lived in the low, stone-clad villa on calle Padre Cardiel, a quiet residential street in the leafy Parque Luro district of Argentina’s best-known seaside town, Mar del Plata.
“Patricia Kadgien, 59, was born in Buenos Aires, five hours to the north. Her social media described her as a yoga teacher and practitioner of biodecoding, an obscure alternative therapy that claims to cure illness by resolving past traumas.
“Her husband, Juan Carlos Cortegoso, 61, built and raced go-karts. Like many in this neighborhood, the couple were comfortably off, and discreet. …
“Then, last month, they put their house up for sale. A photographer from a local estate agent, Robles Casas y Campos, came round to shoot the spacious, elegantly furnished interiors. The pictures went up. And their quiet existence came crashing down.
“The fifth photograph on the agency’s listing showed a general view of the villa’s living room. Hanging on the wall, above a buttoned sofa in plush green velvet and next to a polished antique commode, was a highly distinctive oil painting of a woman.
“More than [6,000 miles] away, the Dutch news outlet AD had, for several years, been quietly investigating the fate of old master paintings looted by the Nazis and still listed by the Dutch culture ministry as ‘unreturned‘ after the second world war.
“Journalists had made several attempts to speak to Patricia Kadgien, the owner of the property, and to her elder sister, Alicia, the daughters of a high-ranking Nazi official Friedrich Kadgien, who was known to have settled in Argentina after the war.
“Their calls and messages had consistently gone unanswered, or been rebuffed. But then a Dutch reporter based in Buenos Aires, Peter Schouten, went knocking on the door of the villa – and spotted a ‘for sale’ sign.
“What followed, after Schouten and his colleagues in Rotterdam clicked on the link to the property and instantly recognized the work, made headlines around the world as the story unfolded of the unlikely recovery of an 18th-century portrait missing for 80 years. …
“After the media reports of the work’s likely location, and before a police search, the couple had tried to obstruct the investigation, the prosecutor argued, by taking down the online property listing and for sale sign and replacing the portrait with a tapestry.
“Despite knowing they were under investigation, it was alleged that the defendants had also attempted a civil action claiming the painting was rightfully theirs, turning it over only after they were placed under house arrest and facing further police raids.
“Through their lawyer, Kadgien and Cortegoso have denied concealment, saying they had always been willing to hand over the painting, and obstruction, arguing that their civil action was aimed at establishing ownership and not at hiding the artwork. …
” ‘Portrait of a Lady’ belonged to Jacques Goudstikker, a Jewish-Dutch art dealer who fled Amsterdam in mid-May 1940 to escape the Nazis, but died after falling through an open hatch into the hold of the SS Bodegraven, the ship carrying him to the UK.
“Goudstikker carried with him a notebook detailing his collection of more than 1,100 artworks, including pieces by Rubens, Giotto, Titian, Rembrandt and Van Gogh, all of which were snapped up for a fraction of their value by Nazi officials.
“Some were later recovered and displayed as part of the Dutch national collection in the Rijksmuseum, before 202 works were restored to the dealer’s sole heir, his daughter-in-law, Marei von Saher, in 2006. ‘Portrait of a Lady’ was not among them. …
“Born in 1907, Kadgien joined the Nazi party in 1932 and the SS in 1935. By 1938, he was a special representative working for Göring on the four-year economic plan drawn up by Adolf Hitler to rearm Germany and prepare it for self-sufficiency by 1940. …
“Kadgien ‘confiscated a large amount of property from Jewish merchants, including jewelry and diamonds in Amsterdam, and oversaw the sale of expropriated shares and securities through banks and front companies in Switzerland’ [federal prosecutor Carlos Martínez] said.
“He fled to Zurich early in 1945, then to nearby Baden, where in 1948 he set up a successful finance and trading firm, Imhauka. With pressure growing after questioning by Swiss and US investigators, Kadgien left for South America in 1949. …
“Kadgien resurfaced in Rio de Janeiro in 1951, settling in the Santa Teresa district and establishing a Brazilian branch of Imhauka. … Imhauka secured valuable contracts with Juan Perón’s government, including acting as an intermediary for major German engineering firms such as Siemens. …
“The fate of ‘Portrait of a Lady,’ which will be registered with Argentina’s supreme court, is now uncertain. Prosecutors have requested it be held, but not displayed, at the Holocaust Museum in Buenos Aires while its ultimate ownership is determined. This week von Saher, Goudstikker’s heir, lodged a legal claim to the work with the FBI in New York.”
Photo: Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Descendants of potter David Drake, seen at the Museum of Fine Arts with one of the artist’s works.
If we are in a hurry for the many evils we see to be defeated, we’re likely be disappointed. But in time, even a foundering ship can right itself. The growth of initiatives to return artifacts stolen in the past is an example.
Jori Finkel writes atCNN that in a “likely precedent-setting agreement, the Museum of Fine Arts (MFA) Boston has agreed to return two works from 1857 by the Black potter David Drake, who made his ambitious jars while enslaved, to his present-day descendants.
“By the terms of the contract, one of those vessels will remain on loan to the museum for at least two years, according to the lawyer George Fatheree, who is representing Drake’s descendants. The other vessel — a masterpiece known as the ‘Poem Jar’ — has been purchased back by the museum from the heirs for an undisclosed sum. Now the work comes with ‘a certificate of ethical ownership.’
“ ‘In achieving this resolution, the MFA recognizes that Drake was deprived of his creations involuntarily and without compensation,’ a museum spokesperson said in a statement. ‘This marks the first time that the museum has resolved an ownership claim for works of art that were wrongfully taken under the conditions of slavery in the 19th-century US.’ …
‘Ethan Lasser, chair of the art of Americas at the MFA, said the museum has learned from its work restituting Nazi-looted art. ‘We’ve become very expert in Holocaust restitution. We’re dealing with (repatriation) issues in our African collections and Native American collections,’ he said over the phone. …
“He considers Drake’s work an example of ‘stolen property,’ too, ‘since the artist is always the first owner of his work and he never got to make the call about where it went or what he was paid for it.’
“Born enslaved around 1800 in Edgefield, South Carolina, a region known for its rich clay, Drake (who was also known as Dave the Potter) was one of relatively few African American potters to sign his work. He also dared — despite punitive anti-literacy laws for enslaved people in the state — to etch short sayings or poems on the jars, making them powerful acts of resistance. Some inscriptions boast of the jar’s intended contents or enormous capacity; others remark more poignantly on his own life or working conditions.
“The ‘Poem Jar,’ which the MFA originally bought in 1997 from a dealer in South Carolina, features a couplet that hints at Drake’s financial exploitation. The inscription reads: ‘I made this Jar = for cash/Though its called Lucre trash.’ Currently in a gallery for self-taught and outsider art at the museum, it will assume a more prominent spot at the entrance of the Art of Americas wing once renovated in June 2026. …
“Another jar made the same year, 1857, has a particularly wrenching inscription in light of Drake’s forced separation from a woman believed to be his wife and her two sons. That vessel, at the Greenville County Museum of Art in South Carolina, reads: ‘I wonder where is all my relation.’
“One of Drake’s great-great-great-great grandsons, the children’s book author and producer Yaba Baker, said he feels the restitution process offers one answer to that question. ‘It’s been exciting, overwhelming and feels full circle,’ he said in a video call. He praised the MFA for ‘showing integrity and leadership’ in ‘allowing us to connect to Dave’s legacy,’ noting that ‘to go from being slaves to having a family of engineers and doctors and people in executive positions is a testament to Dave’s legacy in a different way.’
‘These descendants began talking about getting involved in Drake’s legacy in 2022, upon the opening of ‘Hear Me Now: The Black Potters of Old Edgefield, South Carolina,’ an exhibition jointly organized by the MFA and the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. The family soon hired Fatheree, fresh from his win in the Bruce’s Beach land reparation case. Earlier this year they established the David Drake Legacy Trust, governed by five of the oldest heirs.
“So far there are about 15 family members involved, according to Fatheree, but they have created a website so that other descendants of Drake can be identified and join the efforts — what Fatheree calls ‘a big tent approach.’ …
“There are thought to be around 250 pots by Drake still in existence, and over the past five years the market for his work has exploded, driven mainly by American museums competing for pieces in the hopes of telling a more complex story about the history of slavery in the US. Several have paid six figures for his work, and in 2021 the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Arkansas paid a record-setting $1.56 million for a 25-gallon stoneware jar at auction.
“Other museums that own Drake’s work include the Met, the Philadelphia Art Museum, the De Young Museum in San Francisco, the Art Institute of Chicago, Harvard Art Museums, the St Louis Art Museum and the Smithsonian American Art Museum in Washington, DC, as well as smaller venues in the American South.
“Fatheree confirmed he has begun to reach out to some of these other art institutions on behalf of the family. ‘Our approach has been one of collaboration and invitation. I am not a litigator; we did not go to the museum and file a lawsuit (or) threaten to sue them. But our hope and frankly our expectation is that other institutions’ — and private collectors of Drake’s work, he added — ‘will follow the Boston museum’s lead here.’ ”
Photo: FoxyDonuts. Seattle is making a game of loving rats.
Gotta love the kooky things people come up with. Today’s story is about people in the state of Washington who’ve decided there is a patron saint of rats. They call him St. Rat.
Nathalie Graham writes at the Stranger, “Heat waves shimmer along Pine Street. A rancid, somehow warm fishy smell wafts from Momiji’s dumpster, which is baking in the hot sun on 12th Avenue. The crumb rubber in Bobby Morris Playfield’s astroturf emits its own corona of heat, absorbing the sun’s rays. …
“Nearby, genderqueer youths balance on the concrete lip of the Cal Anderson Gatehouse scrubbing Hot Rat Summer, a pseudo-famous, pseudo-religious guerrilla mosaic of a rat with a halo. …
“Hot Rat Summer features St. Rat, a kind of patron saint for those at the bottom of the societal heap. … They leave offerings of doodles, flowers, and snacks at St. Rat’s feet. They protect the art and the saint within it.
“Last month, City Hall decided to protect Hot Rat Summer from bureaucracy, but that has not kept it safe from taggers, who’ve consistently spraypainted it. Ten days ago, it was a wash of black. …
“The taggers may not see the value of St. Rat, but the art and theology professors at Seattle University who spoke to the Stranger certainly did. They gave a few hot takes on this venerable rat.
“Ken Allen, an associate professor of Art History at Seattle University, strolled over to Hot Rat Summer to analyze it in person. For the scholar of West Coast art in the mid-20th century, the rat’s saintly halo evoked the Beatnik era and artist Joan Brown, part of a loose, bohemian artist collective in the mid-50s called the Rat Bastard Protective Association.
“These bastards ‘often used urban detritus in their assemblage and collage work,’ Allan wrote in an email. Brown, herself, often featured animals, including rats, ‘in a similarly dignified if not quite saintly way as in the Rat Summer piece.’ Take her various portraits of weird cats or The Bride, a painting of a beautiful cat in a wedding dress with a leashed pet rat (the groom?). Or the less sanctified Fur Rat, a rat sculpture made with chicken-wire and a raccoon fur coat.
“ ‘They would have admired the underground spirit of the anonymous artist of Rat Summer, no doubt,’ he continued.
“As would Beatnik writers like Jack Kerouac, who ‘idealized the poor and oppressed.’ …
“Dr. Kristin Doll, adjunct professor in Seattle University’s Department of Theology and Religious Studies, meditated quite a bit on the ‘Saint Rat’ figure central to Hot Rat Summer.
“Doll wrote in an email that she couldn’t attribute any intentional religious metaphors to the artist(s) because she did not know them, but says the work is full of symbols with a clear religious history that make for a ‘clever twist on tradition.’ She loved it.
“ ‘The creators of Hot Rat Summer are certainly creative, humorous, and they have injected a serious topic (protection of trans people and their rights) with tongue-in-cheek versions of traditional religious themes,’ she wrote. …
“Mosaics are common in religious art, Doll wrote, especially in the Eastern Orthodox tradition and in the Byzantine empire, which popularized the style. …
“St. Rat is not a saint. Cannonization is a lengthy, posthumous process analyzing a saint’s life for piety and holiness, plus a series of documented miracles. We don’t know if St. Rat is based on a real rat, if that real rat is dead or living. … This makes analyzing holiness hard.
“And, Doll points out, the Vatican formalized the process in the 12th century to prevent situations exactly like Saint Rat, or, as she explained, ‘the rise of a popular cult based on a figure that may not meet the Church’s standards of holiness.’ Worshippers of Saint Guinefort, a greyhound who became a folk saint in 13th century France, know what she’s talking about.
“Anyone who has been to Cal Anderson has seen the dog worshippers. Rats are not so well loved. We’re quicker to associate rats with garbage, plague, and excellent French cooking than we are to associate them with holiness. ‘A rat is a subversive image that challenges traditional notions of sanctity,’ Doll wrote.”
More at the Stranger,here, and on Instagram. Fun pictures at both sites.
Photo: Shimabuku. Unlike animals that spend their days eating, sleeping or mating, octopuses “have time to wander — time for hobbies,” says Shimabuku, who makes art for sea creatures to enjoy.
There’s an artist in Japan who makes art for marine animals just to see how they react. The responses of octopuses seem to be the most gratifying to him. The whole time I was reading this story, I was wondering why I had never heard the naturalist Sy Montgomery, author of The Soul of an Octopus, talk about this on Boston Public Radio in one of her her weekly visits. I must have missed that day.
“When the Japanese artist Shimabuku was 31 years old,” writes Francesca Perry at CNN, “he took an octopus on a tour of Tokyo. After catching it from the sea with the help of a local fisherman in Akashi, a coastal city over 3 hours away from the Japanese capital by train, he transported the live creature in a temperature-controlled tank of seawater to show it the sights of Tokyo before returning it safely to its home the same day.
“ ‘I thought it would be nice,’ the artist, now 56, said about the experience, over a video call from his home in Naha, Japan. …
‘I wanted to take an octopus on a trip, but not to be eaten.’
“Documenting it on video, Shimabuku took the octopus to see the Tokyo Tower, before visiting the Tsukiji fish market, where the animal ‘reacted very strongly’ to seeing other octopuses on sale, the artist said. …
“The interspecies day trip, resulting in the 2000 video work ‘Then, I Decided to Give a Tour of Tokyo to the Octopus from Akashi,’ kickstarted a series of projects Shimabuku has undertaken over the decades that engage with octopuses in playful, inquisitive ways. A portion of this work is currently on show in the UK, in two exhibitions that explore humanity’s relationship with nature and animal life: ‘More than Human‘ at the Design Museum in London (through October 5) and ‘Sea Inside‘ at the Sainsbury Centre in Norwich (through October 26).
“Fascinated by what the sea creatures might think, feel, or like, Shimabuku has documented their reactions to various experiences, from the city tour of Tokyo to being given specially crafted artworks. ‘They have a curiosity,’ he said. …
“When he lived in the Japanese city of Kobe, Shimabuku would go on fishing trips with local fisherman, taking the opportunity to learn about octopuses. ‘Traditionally we catch octopuses in empty ceramic pots — that’s my hometown custom,’ he said. Fishermen would throw hundreds of pots into the sea, wait two days, then retrieve them — finding octopuses inside. ‘Octopuses like narrow spaces so they just come into it,’ explained Shimabuku.
“When he saw the animals within the pots, he discovered they were ‘carrying things’: shells, stones, even bits of broken beer bottles. He began to save the small objects the octopuses had gathered. …
“Shimabuku started to think, ‘maybe I can make sculptures for them.’ … In his 2010 work ‘Sculpture for Octopuses: Exploring for Their Favorite Colors,’ Shimabuku crafted a selection of small glass balls and vessels, in various colors. At first, he went out in a fishing boat and threw the sculptures in the sea, ‘like a present to the octopuses.’ But then he wanted to see how the animals were reacting to the objects.
“Collaborating with the now-closed Suma Aqualife Park in Kobe, he repeated the effort in a large water tank, where he could film the reaction of octopuses.
“ ‘They played with them, and sometimes they carried them,’ said Shimabuku. … ‘They keep touching, touching.’ The resulting film, and photographs, show the octopuses wrapping their tentacles around some of the glass objects, grabbing and rolling them across the sand, and even holding them in their suckers as they move across the side of the tank.
“In 2024, Shimabuku had a landmark solo show at Centro Botín in Santander, Spain. Specially for the exhibition, he collected an assortment of glass and ceramic pots to offer to local octopuses. Some of the vessels were made by the artist and others were from ‘second-hand shops and eBay.’ …
“Although octopuses are colorblind, Shimabuku wanted to see through these projects whether they were attracted to objects of certain colors. ‘What I heard from fishermen is that octopuses like red,’ he said. ‘Long ago in Kobe, I found an octopus in a red pot, so I believe they like red.’ Perhaps more so than the hue, Shimabuku is convinced that octopuses are drawn to very ‘smooth, shiny’ glass objects. He doesn’t have evidence to back this up, [he’s just] a man entranced by eight-legged mollusks is dedicating his time to engaging with them through art.”
Photo: Navy Yard Garden & Art, Inc. Gillie and Marc’s “The Wild Table of Love,” part of their “Wildlife Wonders” collection.
There’s a new outdoor art exhibit in Boston that seems like it might be worth a special trip. It entails impressive bronze sculptures of animals from rhinos to octopuses. In its way, it conveys messages about conservation and human coexistence.
Solon Kelleher reports at WBUR, “There’s a new 36-foot-long octopus on display in Boston as of this week. It’s made of bronze and weighs nearly 8 tons.
“You’ll find the massive octopus on Dry Dock 2 at the Charlestown Naval Shipyard, as if it climbed out of the water by the USS Constitution Museum to meet a few land animal friends. A different wild animal sits on each of its hefty tentacles. … The piece is called ‘The Arms of Friendship.’
“It’s one of three fantastical wildlife sculptures installed in Charlestown, on view for the next two years. The name of the collection is ‘Wildlife Wonders’ by activists and artists Gillie and Marc, a duo known for public art displays of animals around the globe. This particular installation is organized by the Boston nonprofit Navy Yard Garden & Art, Inc.
“ ‘The term that we gave is a “Bridge of Joy” to connect Charlestown — which is divided by the Tobin Bridge,’ said Robin DiGiammarino, president of Navy Yard Garden & Art. …
“There’s another statue a short walk down 5th Street underneath the Tobin Bridge. That one is called ‘The Wild Table of Love,’ and it features about a dozen wild animals sitting at a table together as if to share a meal. Two empty chairs function as an invitation for passersby to pose with the sculptures. The third is located closer to the water in the Charlestown Naval Shipyard Park. It portrays a figure with the head of a rabbit and the body of a human attempting to get a hippo to try something new. That work is aptly named ‘The Hippo Was Hungry to Try New Things with Rabbitwoman.’
“DiGiammarino said the group collaborated with the Charlestown Coalition and several of its partner organizations — including Turn it Around, Charlestown Trauma Team, Institute of Health Professions, Harvard-Kent Elementary School and the National Parks Service — to review proposals of four different art installations. “’The one that had the most votes was Gillie and Marc,’ said DiGiammarino. …
“Although the scenes are out of this world, DiGiammarino imagines the ways visitors can see themselves in these statues. ‘ There are different animals sitting at the table with all different food in front of them, and those animals in the wild would not get along,’ she said. ‘But here they are having a meal together.’ …
“Navy Yard Garden & Art plans to announce events and curated offerings around these statues, including an augmented reality workshop with local tech company Hoverlay and a photo contest with a grand prize of a Gillie and Marc mini octopus statue.” More at WBUR, here.
Other amazing photos are here. And the artists’ website, here, has additional pictures and background information.
It reads in part, “British and Australian artists, Gillie and Marc … are redefining what public art should be, spreading messages of love, equality, and conservation around the world. …
“The artists are best known for their beloved characters, Rabbitwoman and Dogman, who tell the autobiographical tale of two opposites coming together to become best friends and soul mates. As unlikely animal kingdom companions, the Rabbit and the Dog stand for diversity and acceptance through love. Gillie and Marc believe art is a powerful platform for change. Their art is multi-disciplinary, paying homage to the importance of togetherness, as well as the magnificence of the natural world, and the necessity of preserving it. …
“Gillie grew up in Zambia and realized her love for art by sketching all the wonderful wildlife that surrounded her, falling in love with the captivating creatures with each drawing she created. Tragically, she saw an elephant brutally shot one day. This had a profound impact on her as a young child and from then on she vowed to dedicate her life and work to protecting Earth’s innocent animals. While in his twenties, Marc fell in love with conservation on a trip to Tanzania to see the chimpanzees. …
“Finding an extra special place within the hearts of the artists are rhinos. This love affair began during a project memorializing a black rhino and her calf who mysteriously died in a Zoo in Australia. The artists were heartbroken by this tragedy and wanted to create an artwork that would not only remember the rhinos but also raise awareness about conservation. This sparked a fire that led to the duo learning all they could about rhinos, trying to find a way to give a voice to the voiceless, and help people to understand the urgency for the conservation of these beautiful animals. …
“Their unique approach to contemporary conservation has generated unprecedented awareness and funds to protect some of the world’s most endangered animals. Most recently they unveiled ‘A Wild Life for Wildlife’ in NYC, featuring the world’s longest interactive wildlife tandem bicycle; ‘Love the Last March’ at Gardens by the Bay in Singapore, showcasing a 200-meter wildlife-saving sculpture; and ‘A Wild Life for Wildlife’ in London, featuring nine magnificent interactive sculptures displayed along the Thames in the heart of the city.”
Photo: Pat Greenhouse/Globe Staff. Dutch artist Hendrick Avercamp’s winter scene, stolen in 1978, arrived in May at the Worcester Art Museum in Massachusetts.
As an inveterate reader of mystery novels, I do love a yarn about art thieves, especially if there’s a clever sleuth who figures out what happened. It’s best if the perps end up in jail, but you can’t have it all. These things take time.
At the Boston Globe, Malcolm Gay has a good story about Clifford Schorer, a former president of the Worcester Art Museum’s board as well as “an international art dealer and sleuth who spends his days (and many nights) hunting ‘sleepers’ — lost masterpieces whose true identities have been obscured through the ages.
“Schorer had flown from Brussels [on a day last May] with the painting he now carried in his hands, a winter scene by the acclaimed Dutch Golden Age artist Hendrick Avercamp.
“The artwork was stolen nearly half a century earlier in a sensational 1978 heist from the baronial estate of Helen and Robert Stoddard, a Worcester industrialist. The Avercamp picture, along with numerous other paintings and other valuables taken from the home that night, had not been seen since. Local officials were stumped. So was the FBI. …
“[Schorer] and a conservator carefully unwrapped the package, revealing the aged but unscathed picture of Dutch figures skating in winter.
“ ‘It was nirvana,’ Warner Fletcher, a nephew of the Stoddards, said of the moment. …
“The Avercamp originally disappeared the night of June 22, 1978, when thieves broke into the 36-acre Stoddard estate, hacking open sofa cushions to cart away valuable works by Camille Pissarro, J.M.W. Turner, and Pierre-Auguste Renoir, among others. …
“That night, with Helen undergoing cancer treatment at a Boston hospital, Robert turned in just before midnight. [He] was sound asleep when thieves broke in through the sun porch.
“The burglars ransacked the home, rifling through drawers and closets. They drank the couple’s liquor and ate food from the fridge, according to later news reports. They made their way through each room, snatching paintings from the walls and pocketing collectibles including miniature carvings, silver tea sets, watches, and valuable music boxes.
“When Stoddard awoke the next morning, he realized the house had been robbed when he found his glasses on the floor. …
” ‘We never had a suspect,’ Ralph E. Doyle, a retired detective sergeant with the Worcester Police Department, told the Telegram & Gazette in 2000.
That‘s not to say there haven‘t been breakthroughs.
“The most valuable work in the Stoddard’s collection, Pissarro’s 1902 oil on canvas, ‘Bassins Duquesne et Berrigny à Dieppe, temps gris,’ surfaced at a Cleveland auction house in 1998. …
“The discovery of the Pissarro prompted authorities to look closely at a Springfield-area art dealer named Robert Cornell and his ex-wife, Jennifer Abella-Cornell, who had brought the painting to Ohio. But the estranged couple gave wildly conflicting accounts. [An FBI] spokesperson later told the Telegram & Gazette that reconciling their stories was ‘like beating a dead horse.’ …
“The trail of the Avercamp and other missing works then went cold. Frustrated by the lack of progress and still hoping they might be retrieved, Fletcher, the Stoddards’ nephew, finally turned to Schorer in 2021. He put information about the missing artworks in a manila envelope and sent it to the sleuth.
“Schorer was only vaguely aware of the Stoddard theft at the time, but as he looked through the envelope’s contents, he began to concentrate on the works he found most interesting: the Avercamp, the Turner, and an oil painting by 19th-century Dutch painter Johan Jongkind. …
“His search came up empty. But from his years of experience tracking down stolen art, Schorer knew that disreputable dealers will sometimes misrepresent works to evade detection.
“ ‘Finally, I said, “All right, if I had that painting, who would I fence it as?” ‘ Schorer recalled thinking.
“He knew that Avercamp, a mute painter who specialized in outdoor winter scenes, had a nephew, Barent Avercamp, who mimicked the style of his more gifted relative. Schorer turned again to his computer, this time searching for winter scenes by the famed painter’s nephew.
Bingo: Fifteen minutes later, he came across a throw pillow that was selling for $18.40 with a portion of the missing Avercamp scene — including a distinctive arch — printed on its case. …
“Schorer had made a breakthrough. The only known images of the Avercamp were grainy black and white photos from the ’70s. But this image was in color. It could mean only one thing: The photo was taken after the theft.
“ ‘I clicked on that, and it took me to a page trying to sell me a pillow,’ Schorer recalled. There, just above the asking price, he also found the logo of the image licensing company that held the source file.
“Schorer navigated to the site and paid $39 to download the photo. As he parsed its metadata, he discovered the copyright on the image: L.S.F.A.L., an acronym for Lawrence Steigrad Fine Arts Ltd., a dealer he’d known for years.
“Steigrad told Schorer he’d taken a photo of the painting for Newhouse Galleries, which had offered the artwork at a fine arts fair in the Netherlands in the mid-90s.
“Working another angle, Schorer discovered the name of the person who’d originally sold the work to Newhouse: Sheldon Fish. Fish told Schorer he’d purchased the painting at the Brimfield Antique Flea Market, a short drive from Worcester.”
Brimfield, Holy Cow! It’s a really famous flea market in our area, where Suzanne found most of the antique lockets she sold. I followed her around as she shopped one rainy weekend before Covid.
I love reading this stuff. The rest of the story is at the Globe, here.
Suzanne's Mom's Blog 