Winter 2009

Long Time Friends, Oil Painting

Many evolutionary scientists believe that, without the presence of trees and the great dexterity and hand-eye coordination that was necessary in arboreal life, our ancestor apes wouldn’t have been smart enough to evolve into modern day man. Even if this is not true it isn’t difficult to understand our reverence for trees. They are the largest and oldest living things on earth.

When autumn leaves with their high voltage colors fall victim to the frost of winter, trees stand cloaked only in the armor of their bark and the forest becomes a veritable studio class for the study of tree anatomy. Just as a figurative painter studies human anatomy, the painter of nature must understand the underlying purpose of a tree’s shape in order to faithfully capture its essence. For example: to hold leaves aloft requires enormous strength and to support a horizontal branch a tree must reinforce the point of its connection. Therefore, the branch becomes more oval shaped rather than round where it meets the trunk.

Trees, in every stage of seasonal dress or undress, are the first images to greet me when I wake each morning. Oak and beech trees line my driveway and stand like giant parentheses around my pool. My new seasonal ritual is the harvesting of specimens from my garden, most of which are tree-related.

Unlike the artist Andy Goldsworthy, I have never been a nature purist with my creations. I am an inveterate tweeker. My dolls were the first victims of this propensity, each one sporting a radical change in her original appearance. No hair style, wardrobe or face was exempt from my beautifying hands.

Leaves in a Box, Oil Painting with Collage

Trees Series #2, Oil Painting with Encaustic

Autumn Doodles, Oil Painting under Fusion Glass

As a result, I paint my leaves, dip them in cement and cover them with resin and encaustic while playing my own version of Mother Nature. Aside from being the material for my assemblages (Leaves in a Box) and the models for my paintings (Trees Series #2) the flowers and leaves are often scattered over a painting and then pressed under a layer of my fusion glass (Autumn Doodles).

Growing up in southern California, the trees of my childhood were very different from those on the east coast. One of my earliest tree memories involves a grove of eucalyptus I passed everyday on my walk to and from school. Even now, when I smell their menthol-tinged fragrance, I am transported back to that earlier time and place as if they were Proust’s famous madeleines. For me, eucalyptus trees always conjure up a bittersweet nostalgia for youth and the conflicting emotions of being a teenager.

Wood Elf Dress, Mannequin with Bark and Leaves

When gathering garden treasures timeliness is important. The bark I used on Wood Elf Dress was wrapped around the mannequin while still fresh, otherwise it would have become too brittle.

Branch, Natural Branch with Fusion Glass and Resin

In winter one finds subtle items that are lost amid the lushness of summer and spring. Last December a large branch that had been unnoticed for months at the edge of our woods caught my eye. As the sun came up and cast its sinuous purple shadow on the surrounding snow, I discovered this natural piece of sculpture. Today that branch graces my entryway. Covered in paint, resin and fusion glass, it is another victim of my inevitable tweeking.

Cambodian Temple

Recently I traveled in Cambodia and was astounded by the giant trees among the temples that are both destroying and supporting the ancient structures. Reflecting on man's special relationship with trees in which we are more often the destroyer, I remembered a quote from the poet Saint John Perse saying that "a book is the death of a tree." The creation of my art employs the use of paper, pencils and panels. If that work is worth, I believe it can be a reincarnation for the tree.

Jack's Gazebo, Oil Painting with Fusion Glass Frame

Last summer I painted several paintings for a friend. On the day I delivered my work one of the trees I had painted crashed to the ground, a victim of root-rot. Now Jack’s Gazebo serves as a memorial to a dear friend, an 80 year old weeping maple.

In closing I would like to invite you all to my exhibition, Trees: Branches, Flowers & Leaves, at New Century Artists in New York City from March 17-28, 2009. There will be an opening reception on Thursday, March 19 from 5-8 PM. The gallery is located at 530 West 25th Street, please come!