In all probability, the lives of these three women never intersected. However, in only a few weeks they will be linked together in a work of art that will transcend their individual identities. I happen to know that the one on the far right was christened Catherine Elizabeth and there’s no mistaking the name of the accordion player. The woman in the middle posed for this picture in a Brooklyn, New York studio, but her name remains a mystery. I collect vintage photographs, picking them up at flea markets and antique shops wherever I travel. Sorting through boxes of daguerreotypes, portrait postcards or mid-century snapshots, I choose images of anonymous people who speak to me with an interesting expression or unusual pose. I’m especially drawn to women in beautiful period clothing. As a rule, I only select sharply focused photographs with a dominant light source to use as a reference in creating my artwork.
Back in my studio I examine each portrait thoroughly and muse about what kind of personality that individual had. A curious face nestled in a large group invites me to speculate what relationship they had to the others. I’m not interested in learning who these people actually were, but invent my own fantasies about them and sometimes even assign them names. After scanning an image, I enlarge it on my laptop using Photoshop Elements and scrutinize every pixel to discover details often missed with the naked eye. Jewelry, books and furniture used as props, and even physical anomalies like a missing finger or scar add to my story. I never forget a face in my portrait collection and all the information gleaned from studying these images subconsciously percolates while I go about my daily tasks. In time, connections are made within my realm of personal experience and surreal images bubble up into my conscious mind. If an idea is powerful enough, it becomes the impetus for a new painting.
One hot summer night shortly after I brought Sharyn the accordion player home from an antique mall in the midwest, I cursed that late afternoon cup of coffee when I had trouble sleeping. I tossed and turned in what I like to call “blue sleep.” That’s when my mind gets stranded between dreaming and awareness and goes on autopilot continuing to work. It can be annoying if I’m hoping for complete rest, but the interesting images and solutions to creative problems that come to me during the night often pay off. I also experience a similar state conducive to creative thought just upon awaking in the early morning. That night I imagined Sharyn in a forest playing her accordion to the birds. Accordion players for the most part stand and sway as they play, so an image of a tree playing the accordion swaying in the wind came into my mind. The idea became so intriguing that I gave up on trying to get some sleep and went into my studio to make this sketch:
Needless to say, I yawned a lot and didn’t get much work done the next day, but it was important for me to document the idea for a possible painting while it remained vivid in my mind.
Along with Sharyn, I also brought back several old family snapshots that a friend in Chicago graciously offered me. A double exposure of two women at the door of a stone building and a ghostly bicyclist piqued my interest. Maybe I've watched too many "Dr. Who" episodes, but the concept of time dimensions fascinates me and this photographic illusion suggested the coexistence of two worlds. The structure reminded me of a mausoleum, the kind with a heavy metal gate that offers a peek at shadowy marble vaults and a rich stained glass window on the back wall.
People close to me are familiar with my passion for old cemeteries. When my kids were little, if we drove by one on a country road they would groan because they knew I would have to stop and read a few epitaphs. I’ve studied the 17th and 18th century funerary motifs found carved on slate and brown stone markers all over New England and am especially fond of the early winged skulls. I often photograph gothic and neoclassical cemetery sculptures for reference in my work and enjoy the poignant verses on these monuments. The interesting names and facts on the stone markers reveal relationships among those buried together and easily generate my own version of a Spoon River Anthology. In these beautiful places where the tangible meets the ethereal, I sometimes entertain the romantic notion that resident spirits communicate with each other in a surreal community undetected by living visitors.
As August wore on, the secret life of cemeteries and accordion playing trees simmered on a back burner in my mind as I went about my normal tasks. After bringing my son back to college in Vermont, I stopped in Montpelier at an antique shop and bought a couple of vintage photos before winding my way home to Rhode Island. Taking back roads and stopping for an occasional photograph, I happened upon a quaint old iron gated cemetery in a small Massachusetts town.
It was late in the afternoon when I walked down a hill into the heart of the picturesque cemetery and waited until the last rays of sunlight pushed through a gap in the clouds so I could capture the exaggerated shadows the stones would make upon the grass. Looking up toward the road I photographed a small grove of trees with a white New England church in the background and immediately knew that this would be the setting for “the painting.”
By now I was pretty invested in bringing my "trees making music" idea to life. Working with the cemetery photos on my laptop, I began to fool around in Photoshop making a rough photo collage using clippings of musicians and scanned vintage images. The accordion player worked in my drawing, but she didn’t seem right for the sturdy trees in the grove.
My husband and I enjoy any kind of live music, especially Americana/Roots. I'm always acquiring shots of musicians for my picture files and sunny outdoor concerts provide wonderful opportunities to photograph performers. The July 23rd Swamp Stomp IV here in Rhode Island was no exception when one of our favorite bands, Joe Fletcher and The Wrong Reasons, put on a terrific show like they always do. That day along with lots of great shots I seemed to get a large concentration of arms and hands playing instruments.
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| Joe Fletcher and The Wrong Reasons |
Using clips from that recent musical photo shoot, Joe became the central guitar playing tree. After trial and error experimenting with other instruments, I settled on this trio. The original middle of the night sketch included a woman and I decided that this surreal band should be serenading more than the birds in the cemetery.
Enter the woman from Brooklyn. I liked her dress, but the pedestal didn’t make sense. I also wanted a woman with a more intriguing expression.
I tried Catherine's head on her body and liked the effect. Then I constructed a gravestone for her to lean on. In order to make the figure more prominent I decided to simplify the composition. Cropping out the bass playing tree did the trick. Now the finished concept is ready to put on canvas. A story has developed along with the image, and this morning I woke up with a plot to think about while I paint. Did I mention that I also write fiction? The only thing I will share right now is that the woman listening to the music is called "Zadie."
