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Serene solitudes

In Her Mirror II, detail, Shawn Downey, oil on panel, 2018

I visited Arcadia, in Pasadena, after Shawn Downey’s solo show closed nearly half a year ago now, yet some of his work was still hanging in the rear gallery and I was able to get a close look at half a dozen paintings, which was a great treat—including this one hanging above its shipping crate, ready for its trip home to Canada. Downey’s minimalist interiors, with a single contemplative woman, with the occasional tattoo, in stripped-down, geometric spaces, were a marvel. It felt like a contemporary fusion of Vermeer’s light and Hopper’s sympathetic eavesdropping on urban solitude, but with a brighter, more serene glow. I wish I’d been there to see all of the work.

Art du Jour News June 2019

Art du Jour student art show entry. Image provided by Charity Hubbard

June 2019 Third Friday

Art du Jour Gallery, 213 E. Main Street in Medford eagerly anticipates a return of Charity Hubbard’s student art exhibit for our Third Friday reception on June 21st, 5-8 pm.  Despite an earlier announcement that our musical entertainment would be held back for this months’ event, due to popular demand we have scheduled classical guitarist Rod Petrone to perform for the evening.

Featured Guest Artist Charity Hubbard in Salon June and July

Frequently painting from life on location “en plein air” and people from life is important to Charity Hubbard.  She feels that the regular exercise of painting from life enables her to better capture life, light and a truer sense of atmosphere, even when painting from life is not possible.

Still life by Charity Hubbard.

Still life by Charity Hubbard. Image provided by the artist.

“It is a joy to find inspiration in the challenge of capturing life as it happens, attempting to be true to the mood and nature of what is in front of me.” Charity states on her website.  “Each moment is a gift and a place in time that will never happen again, it’s a privilege to persevere in portraying the spirit of a moment in visual expression to the best of my ability.”

With a background in commercial art for Pixel Productions Inc. (a commercial art and design company), she is trained in perspective and drafting, has illustrated by commission for architects and builders and rendered technical yet artistic architectural illustrations in a variety of mediums.  Her enjoyment of architectural elements is reflected in many of her paintings as well.  Current art pursuits gravitate towards fine art oil paintings of people, landscape and architecture and teaching.  She is also a member of Southern Oregon Society of Artists.

For more information on this artist go to her website at: www.charityhubbard.com

Portrait by Charity Hubbard. Image provided by the artist.

Portrait by Charity Hubbard. Image provided by the artist.

Student Art Show Featured Throughout the Gallery

This is Charity Hubbard’s 11th year of offering small classes that take a classical approach to art.  She has taught in conference workshops and currently offers classes to youth ages 10 and up, teens and adults, rotating in subjects of study.  Her classes are small, 6-10 students each, taught with the aid of an intern assistant, allowing for much individual instruction from Charity.  She also offers a more intensive program where student interns can study with her for 16-18 hours a week and earn a certificate with completion of the program.

Last years’ student art show on Third Friday was the largest turnout AdJ has ever seen, with all indications that the reception this year could be just as popular. We invite the community to stop by on June 21st for the event, or throughout the month during regular gallery hours to see what these gifted students are producing.

Calling All Rogue Valley Artists!!!

Art du Jour is still actively seeking new artists living in the Rogue Valley region who would like to join our co-operative and display their work to the Medford community. Membership includes an active role in the Art in Bloom festival in May, as well as our monthly Third Friday event. Media to be juried for membership includes pottery, sculpture, photography and jewelry.  Contact the gallery by email at [email protected], or log into our website (www.artdujourgallery.com) for full membership information.

Art du Jour Gallery
213 E. Main Street
Medford, OR 97501
(541) 770-3190
OPEN Tues – Sat., 10AM – 4PM

Southern Oregon Plein Air Kicks Off 1 Week From Today! Have You Signed Up Yet?

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southern oregon plein air june 2019

JUNE 19 – JUNE 22, 2019

$85 registration fee – Register Now!

 

Southern Oregon Plein Air (SOPA) invites artists of all levels to participate in 4 days of plein air painting!

 

Artists can customize their SOPA experience by participating in a vendor fair, attending FREE plein air presentations, joining guest artists for on-location demonstrations, entering art into a juried show, participating in a “quick draw” event, and taking advantage of social events.

 

Paintings entered into the competition will be juried for over $1000 in cash prizes for 1st, 2nd, 3rd places and four honorable mentions. This year’s juror is Cody Bustamante, Professor of Art at Southern Oregon University in Ashland, OR.

 

Check In and registration will be happening on Wed. 6/19 at Central Art during our Vendor Fair, so mark your calendars!

 

Thank you for your interest in SOPA 2019 – we hope that you enjoy your experience!

 

*You can PRE-REGISTER NOW by calling 541-773-1444, or by stopping in-store at Central Art and signing up. Payment is required at time of registration to secure a spot. For full event details, click below to visit Central Art’s Official Blog!

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Earth Paint Summer Deals + Eco Artist Interview

summernewsletter

This season’s HOT DEALS!

20off Big

Wait, there’s more!
Stock Up For Summer with FREE SHIPPING!
Coupon Code: shipart19

Expires June 20th

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Can you say “Let’s Paint!” in Italian? ….”Dipingiamo!”

Week2 Italy Small

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Josh Tiessen Painting large

Fascinating interview with Natural Artist & Prodigy, Josh Tiessen.
Read more here.

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Something’s new in our store…

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Have a fantastic start to your summer season!

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Exhibits at Rogue Gallery for Third Friday June 21, 2019

Third Friday Downtown Medford Art Walk

Friday, June 21, 5:30 – 8:00 pm

www.roguegallery.org 40 South Bartlett Street Medford Oregon 97501 541-772-8118 

 

 

 

 

 

Community Gallery

Inspired by the East: Annual Art Movement Tribute

June 7 – July 12, 2019

 

Tom                Glassman Mural Detail Tashi Choling

Tom Glassman, Mural Detail of Tashi Choling, Photograph

 Rogue Gallery artists created work with the inspiration of the art of the East. Artists used themes and styles from China, Japan, India, and other countries of the East. The exhibit includes oil, acrylics, watercolor, pen and ink, Chinese brush painting, pastels, fiber art, photography, and mixed media.

Participating artists include Bruce Allen, Lynn Anderson, Susan Austin, Rachel Barrett, Linda Boutacoff, Hortense J. Bullock, John E. Bullock, Dawna Curler, Phyllis Earls, Cynthia Flowers, Tom Glassman, Jay Gordon, John Hawkins, Kim Hearon, Mary Hills, Zelpha Hutton, Jennifer Ivey, Sheryl Leblanc, Charles Lockridge, Susan Murphey, Janice Rosenberg, Barbara Schack, Pam Shay, Darlene Southworth, Daniel Verner, Walter Wirfs, & Charlotte L. Wirfs.

 

Main Gallery

Surface and Structures: Paintings by Cammy Davis and Sculpture by Nadine Gay

May 10 – June 21, 2019

The last day to view this very popular exhibit is June 21.

 

Cammy Davis Give Me One Reason

Cammy Davis, Give Me One Reason, Acrylic

The Surface and Structures exhibit features abstract artist Cammy Davis and sculptor Nadine Gay. Cammy Davis paints bold large abstract acrylic paintings. Nadine Gay is a multi-media artist who creates whimsical and contemplative ceramic figurative sculptures. The exhibit is a juxtaposition of large, textured, color enriched canvases with sculpture that is figurative, spiritual, and at times delicate. Each artists’ work is beautifully complemented by the other.

 

Cammy Davis is a Jacksonville artist who has been featured at fine art galleries between Seattle and Palm Springs. She has developed art tutorial videos and music art videos. Cammy studied fine art at the University of Idaho and has a degree in Interior Design from Bellevue College in Washington. Cammy has been deeply influenced by her childhood experiences of growing up in the woods. She spent her youth making sword fern teepees and treehouses from material of the land. The lifestyle was simple and creative. Her youth instilled in her a resourceful and creative spirit that is present in her abstract paintings. She resides in Jacksonville.

 

Nadine Gay was born and raised in France and came to the United States in the 1970’s. She holds a Bachelors of Fine Art from the Pratt Institute. Nadine has taught art in various programs from kindergarten to college, prisons to psychiatric hospitals, and classes for adults. In 2016, she retired from teaching art and moved to the Rogue Valley to concentrate on her art. She describes her work as a playful conversation between her dreams, images and the materials she uses to create. Her work is often process oriented, as Nadine explains, “Stories emerge, the child in me delights in what comes to life. My work connects me with a fantasy world, a waking dream-space.” She has exhibited in France and throughout the US.

Refreshments from Harry & David will be served at the reception.

Take A Peek At Featured Guest Artists Appearing At SOPA 2019!

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$85 REGISTRATION FEE, SIGN UP NOW!

PRE-REGISTER BY CALLING 541-773-1444

OR SIGN UP IN-STORE AT CENTRAL ART.

*Complete details on our Official Blog, printed schedule available in-store.

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News and Call to Artists ~ Art Presence Art Center

Art Presence Art Center News

Excerpts:

Author Reading

Art Presence Art Center invites you to join Susan Wrona as she reads from her book of poetry, “Radiant Cup”.  This is on June 14th at 5:00 in the classroom at Art Presence Art Center at 206 North 5th Street in Jacksonville.  Refreshments will be served.  Call 541-941-7057 for more information.

The post Author Reading appeared first on Art Presence Art Center.

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ART PRESENCE 2019 CALL TO ARTISTS

Art Presence Art Center’s 2019 call to artists for October Imaginarium show is on! This year’s theme is Mischief & Magic.  Both 2D and 3D artwork welcome for the main gallery show and artisan pieces in the same theme for the Galleria. Application fee is $30, and the deadline is Thursday, August 1, 2019. This […]

The post ART PRESENCE 2019 CALL TO ARTISTS appeared first on Art Presence Art Center.

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Our mailing address is:

Art Presence Art Center

206 North 5th Street
P.O. Box 185

JacksonvilleOR 97530

Fractured literacy

Ben Tankard’s kids posing with some of his book cover paintings.

It always cheers me when Ben Tankard posts something new on Instagram. The Australian painter works in several modes, one being his surreal landscapes where ordinary people confront things they can’t quite comprehend—if we’re honest with ourselves, we are those people, all the time, aren’t we?—and in another series he does Monopoly board images that have been slightly modified, as well as classic Penguin paperback covers. It’s all done with an ebullient wit. My favorites are his simple, uniformly produced fractures of Penguin covers, where everything has been slightly scrambled, as if the books are slowly becoming illegible as a result of macular degeneration. For me, the fragmentation of vision is cultural and his Pop version of those paperbacks speaks to our fragmented literacy in an age of inane social media telegraphy and knee-jerk rants. It’s refreshing to see a painter posing his two youngsters in front of images he’s completed of Robert Louis Stevenson’s and Hunter S. Thompson’s work. Just putting those books side by side feels tolerant, appreciative, and encouraging. Just painting the covers of great books, period, is a nice, humble way to class up the joint. 

Making Small Pictures of Seashells

Making Small Pictures: Espresso Cup With Broken Seashells

Making pictures, as in to form, shape, bring about or create a picture. 

Small Studies.

It’s the season of “smalls” – that is drawing small studies on a regular basis.

MakingSmall Studies: Broken Seashell With Napkin

Though, truthfully, I am working on a medium size watercolor painting in my “Three Minute Egg” series.  However it is taking a while.  And, when it is drying between layers, I work on other things.

Back to the small studies.  I can get so much enjoyment out of doing the small studies.  Plus, although it may not look it, I do feel as though I’m getting somewhere.  Put a different way, I am making progress on my drawing skills and how I like to compose and think about my art.

Making Small Pictures: Broken Seashells in Ink

And, you might notice, I am using different media: ink on paper; colored pencil on toned paper; and Procreate App with my iPadPro.

The Beauty Of Making Something.

I was recently reminded that when you ask four year olds see things differently.  To explain, when you ask them what they’re doing when they are drawing or painting, more than likely they’ll say they are making something.

And, a child making a picture will probably not be worrying about whether or not their painting will get into a juried show, or sell, or be in a museum, or the myriad of other things grown up artists worry about.

Making Small Studies: Two Broken Seashells and a Box

Making Or Creating.

I think the distinction between “making something” and “creating art” is interesting and revealing.  Think about it.  Sometimes it is just nice to make a picture rather than worry about painting a piece of art.  “Art”, at least to me, is loaded with expectations of creativity, skill and meaning.  Oddly enough, it can be an onerous challenge.

Just making a picture of a broken seashell is more liberating.  I can investigate, play and stop when I want to.  It can come out good or terrible; who cares?  The time spent making the picture is a worthwhile and enjoyable endeavor.

Making Small Studies of broken seashells with ink

Patience And Practice.

Recently, I also remembered that getting good at making something takes practice and patience.  So, these small studies are my way of learning and practicing my craft.

In any case, I hope you enjoy my broken seashells.

Making Small Pictures: Espresso Cup with Broken Seashells

The post Making Small Pictures of Seashells appeared first on Margaret Stermer-Cox.

Windows onto the world

Selkie, collograph monoprint, Elizabeth King Durant

The current group show at Oxford Gallery, “Metamorphosis,” is one of the strongest James Hall has put together. Maybe because the theme signifies the essence of art itself. Art is alchemy, taking common human experience and transforming it into the idiosyncratic terms of an individual artist’s ornery insistence on his or her skewed way of seeing things. It’s a transformation of what could easily be a generic glimpse of something familiar into the odd, particular demands of one person’s heart. The greatest art goes a step further and somehow magically uses the unique weirdness of human individuality to open a window on the universal. A fleeting depiction of something partial and provisional offers a glimpse into what’s essential and enduring. Metaphor is metamorphosis. Yet, as Stephen Wright joked, “You can’t have everything. Where would you put it?” You can’t squeeze the whole world into a frame. But you can offer a door into it. In art, the part becomes the whole.

The best work in this show opens that door into the world as a whole. The pieces I keep going back to are the work from Debra Stewart, Elizabeth King Durant, Amy Mclaren, Barbara Fox, Phyllis Bryce Ely, Alexandra Latypova and, yes, even a few male artists, like Tom Insalaco and Daniel Mosner. (Has anyone else observed that the art women make right now often seems more vital and interesting than the work of their male cohort?)

Of all the work in Metamorphosis, my favorite has to be Durant’s Selkie, a perfectly executed and easily overlooked collograph monoprint visualizing the Celtic myth. Think Splash in more ancient terms, the shape-shifting of seal into woman and back again. There’s a perfect marriage of technique and subject in the print, with bravura, gestural lines seeming to articulate the shapes of seal and human in a sort of Taoist swirl of opposites. Her lines appear to be the edges of a three-dimensional surface, as if she had pulled the print from dried spackle applied with a knife—the wave that gives birth to both woman and seal also has the quality of a rock face, water transforming into stone. And yet another gentle polarity obtains in the tension between earth and heaven suggested in the extremely subtle shift between the emptiness of the grayish ultramarine sky above the slightly greener but almost metallic aqua of the sea under a mountain shoreline that quarantines those two regions. Her technique is spare and restrained and simple, yet the image looks timeless and primordial, an entire myth worthy of Joseph Campbell in a glance.

In a felicity that may be entirely unintentional, Alexandra Latypova’s misty landscape looks almost apocalyptic in the way she has suppressed the color of anything touched by the fog creeping toward the viewer from the horizon. The golden tones of what appears to be a foreground vineyard recede to a line where, at the edge of the fog and deeper into the haze, everything is sapped of hue. In Fog from The Bay, the ominous shapes of trees and shrubbery are faded to browns and grays, and somehow they seem to be in motion, becoming the fog that envelopes them, both collapsing and billowing up from the ground. The image reminds me of the live television feed from 911, the fall of the World Trade Center, where structures looming on the Manhattan skyline disappeared into dust. What may have started as a placid, idyllic morning on a lake’s shoreline has turned in a disquieting but eerily lovely reminder of the world’s end.

Amy Mclaren’s offering for this Oxford show, Retired, acrylic on canvas, upstages nearly all of her previous work in the gallery’s shows. Here she reminds me, surprisingly, of Norman Rockwell, his ease at suggesting deep emotional warmth through the depiction of facial expression and body language—in this case the stance and look in the eyes of an old dog. A single greyhound, a retired racer, waits patiently at attention, wearing his worn racing color—it’s more of a visualized memory than an actual uniform here, dissolving into his flank. He poses against a nearly monotone but luminous blue background. The image has an iconic Pop simplicity, and the brushwork, as well as the way in which Mclaren positions the dog, boxing it in with the edges of the picture, flattening out the form, echoes Jim Dine’s robes. The very loosely applied globs of white to designate the greyhound’s paws are wonderfully accurate even though they almost look splattered onto the surface from the end of a brush fat with paint. The tension in the legs, the heartbreaking eagerness of the posture—please someone anyone give me another spin around the track—and the magnificently human look in that visible eye, the way it sadly studies whatever is happening in our faces as we loiter around this ex-champion indifferently, makes this image a wonderful, beautiful salute to all forms of guileless excellence and passion, especially when they have fewer and fewer chances to make their mark in the world. They also serve who only stand and wait . . .

I had a similar response to Debra Stewart’s small, intricate oil on panel, Sea Change, with its title from Shakespeare that has come to be almost the generic term for alchemy and metamorphosis. This lapidary dreamscape reminds me simultaneously of Botticelli and Disney, with a dash of Piero Di Cosimo’s strangeness. Like Mclaren’s greyhound, this little girl riding on the hips of a reclining mermaid strikes me as the most perfectly realized image out of all Stewart’s work I’ve seen. It uses symmetry to simplify a wealth of sedulously rendered detail: glistening highlights that appear to be laid on with gold leaf, but might simply be expertly handled oil.  The way she presents the pink, vital face of the central girl in contrast to the murkier tones  in the faces of her supernatural friends reminds me of the subtle distinctions in skin tone in Piero della Francesca’s Virgin Enthroned with Four Angels. The sense of depth, the way the bright ocean falls away behind the more shadowy figures, the transparency of the mermaid’s tail and the ghostly flying dolphins swimming through the girl’s arms, and the way the entire scene emanates from the figure of the central girl—Stewart’s self-portrait as a child?—give the image an undeniable quality of psychological truth despite its fantastic content.

Barbara Fox, as with many of her fellow exhibitors, contributed one of her most realized pieces, a composition as simple and iconic as a Gottlieb burst painting. Entitled Fly Me to the Moon, it offers a leaf of sheet music, folded like origami, under a full moon. The theme is the polarity, and unity, of art and the world it represents—a song about a moon launch inscribed on an earthbound sheet of paper folded into a bird-like form. It both can and can’t transport you to that destination only inches away in the charcoal and pastel drawing, suggesting bittersweet ironies held in perfect balance. Look again and the folded sheet music could be an opening hand tossing the moon into the sky.

In Becoming Ice, what seems to be another painting inspired by photographs her father took of the Arctic, Phyllis Bryce Ely keeps finding fascinating ways to turn so much whiteness into beguiling imagery. Here it seems frozen flotsam,  breaking away from icebergs, swirls around itself in the ocean forming what looks almost like a huge lens, an eye of water, gazing up at the cold heavens. At first, the viewer takes pleasure in the sensuous quality of the paint, the way it has been so loosely and vigorously applied with confident gestures. The sky is chunky, a chock-a-block assembly of warm and cool lights and darks, with her bright orange undercoat peeking through here and there—in a way that looks both unnatural and yet real. Yet for all that rocky solidity in the clouds, it all looks like a brilliant sample of the sky from Western New York, over Lake Ontario or one of the Finger Lakes. The way the surface of the water works in this painting is equally mystifying: it looks shiny and reflective without any symmetry between the shapes in its surface and the clouds above. It almost seems a visualization of Emerson’s most awkward metaphor, the transparent eyeball, signifying the unity of subject and object, observer and observed.

The rest of the work in this show is just as interesting: Tom Insalaco’s magisterial, Baroque depiction of time and eternity, Daniel Mosner’s sumptuously rendered, alien-looking vegetables sitting on an abstract table in an expanse of negative space, and Helen Santelli’s two ceramic paeans to the magic of insect metaphorphosis—a recurring theme in the work of several artists.  What I especially liked was the inclusion of a cicada in Santelli’s constructions—an insect that was almost a talisman of my childhood, an enduring emblem for me of spiritual freedom emerging from the confinements of life. There are instances of wry humor in the show—cheerful laughter being a quality in short supply throughout much of the art world—in Doug Whitfield’s middle-aged, slightly gone-to-seed Superman revealing his inner superhero without a phone booth to conceal his metamorphosis in the age of smartphones. Bill Santelli’s Mindstream #3, a prismacolor drawing quite different from his usual swaying stalks of field grass. Striking and bold, it looks deceptively like a lithograph. Jean Stephens, again with a touch of humor, depicts one of her southwestern monoliths or wind-carved dolmens, with an enormous paper bag, bringing out the visual kinship between brown paper and sandstone, large and small, natural and human. Ryan Schroeder continues down the path he appears to be on, limiting his pallet to depict fields of light, condensing into objects, focusing on how to convey a kind of timeless illumination in a carefully rendered, but entirely blurred interior full of poetry, seemingly a memory from half a century ago, before he was born. Amy Chen’s work, just inside the gallery’s entry, is marvelous—a study in deliquescent, meandering washes of ink and watercolor on rice paper, working with traditional Asian materials and media and yet letting the round image evolve into something almost entirely abstract and ethereal, reminding me of how Bill Santelli works with acrylic in his other modes. Chris Baker offers a beautiful single-object still life, if you don’t count the objects almost lost in the shadows behind the simple glass jar with flowers. And with Bunker, Jacquie Germanow depicts an almost cinematic and unearthly scene that held my attention as long as any other painting on view. A shaft of light connects sky and sea, like those alien beams for transporting people in the X Files, if it’s actually the Earth and one of its oceans we’re viewing rather than a landscape from a lost Dante canto. Water seems to flow down over a long tunnel, a bunker, that glows like a furnace and has a barred entrance adorned with a ram’s horns. It’s all ominous and beautiful in a way that makes it impossible to pin down why all of this beckons to you, but it is mysteriously, disturbingly inviting.