Winter is not my favorite season. The cold, the early dark–make me want to pull the covers over my head and stay in bed until Spring. But that way lies madness–right? So get up and paint, I tell myself. Remember the warmth and color of the sun. It’s still out there, even though it’s doing its best to hide from us right now. So I reminded myself of the Caribbean–the lush islands, the beach, the sea. And I got out my paints, squeezed out a pile of yellow, grabbed a brush, and started smearing paint on a couple of canvases. And guess what? Today, after a couple of weeks of intense cold, the sun did come out and the earth warmed up a bit. So I guess my ploy worked, for today, at least.
First, I did a little vignette.
Sand and Sea, acrylic, 12 x 12
Next, encouraged, I branched out into something a bit more substantial, focusing on the light, the sun filling the sky. So that’s how this landscape came by its name.
The Red Star Line Museum resides in an old red brick building at the docks in Antwerp. It was in this building that millions of emigrants spent their last days in Europe before setting sail on one of the Red Star Line ships for America. My grandmother, father and uncle were three of those people, about whose journey I wrote in Riva’s Journey: a Memoir (Amazon.com, paperback and Kindle editions). Last Tuesday, I had the opportunity to visit the museum for myself.
It was incredible for me to stand inside the same building where my family stood over 100 years ago, ready to leave behind everything they’d ever known to try to build a future in a new land. The museum itself has exhibits detailing the stories of many of the emigrants who passed through there, and is fascinating to visit. Directly across from it are the docks that are still busy and active today, where my husband and I walked past cranes poised to load new ships on new journeys.
The museum is set up to allow visitors to search their databases for ship’s manifests, etc., but there are no records available from 1920, as many were destroyed during World War II. I tried anyway, but no luck. Oh, well–fortunately Ellis Island has many of the same records in their data bases, which is how I know my family sailed on the SS Lapland. So amazing to have been able to visit this site!
From earliest times, people have used pictures to tell a story. Following in this narrative tradition, I have created, over a period of years, a body of work that tells the stories of some of my earliest memories. Many of these paintings are hanging in our family room at this moment. Looking at them recently, I realized that I need to take the exhibit a step further.
Pictures are great, but to really tell a complete story, you need words. At least, I do. So I decided to add a ‘narrative’ to my ‘history paintings,’ so that subsequent generations will understand what I had in mind when I painted them.
I grew up in Chicago in the 1950’s and 60’s. My family was close, both in physical proximity and emotionally. My aunt and uncle, and my grandparents were always in each other’s apartments, celebrating holidays and family events, as well as taking many outings together within the city. They’re all gone now, but my memories of them are still vivid and alive.
Times change, and the lifestyle we enjoyed then is no longer possible, with families spread out all over the world. We don’t live in each other’s pockets anymore. So stories will have to take the place of experiences, and maybe my paintings can make my stories more vivid and real.
For example, Passover on 19th Street, shows a family at a Passover Seder. My father, grandfather, and uncle are reading from the Hagaddah, while my Grandma and aunt are working in the kitchen. My mom is next to my dad, putting a bowl of chicken soup with matzo balls on the table. The table is set with the traditional seder plate, wine and matzo, and the children are all at the table with the family. On the left side of the painting, a goat, (a kid-from the traditional song in the Hagaddah Chad Gadya – about one kid that father sold for two zuzim) peeks over the front door, and on the right side, there are the apartment houses that we lived in on Chicago’s West Side. There are a few extra guests at the Seder, which would have been normal. And the dining room isn’t what my grandma’s dining room looked like. But none of that is the point. What I hope viewers get from this painting is the sense of closeness and family celebrating a beloved holiday in a traditional way. I loved painting it.
I just spent 2 very happy Saturdays at the Scottsdale Artists’ School Portrait Open Studio. It’s been 7 years since I was a regular there, every Saturday morning, and it was fantastic to be back again. And…I learned a new technique. New to me, anyway.
I hadn’t brought any paints with me, only drawing materials, but I noticed that most of the others were doing “value paintings” using an oil palette of white, burnt sienna, and viridian. I’ve done plenty of value paintings, but never with viridian, so I couldn’t wait to get back to my own studio, break out the oil paints, and try it for myself. Today was the day!
I haven’t used oils in a while, but using them again today reminded me of why I love them and used them for so many years. They are so easy to play with, and they stay workable for hours, so there’s no rush. I can relax, take my time and enjoy the process. For my first effort at the new technique, I decided to copy one of the drawings I’d done at the Open Studio. I’m pretty happy with it, though still not sure if I like the viridian or not. I’ll work on it some more tomorrow, but here’s the ‘first draft.’
Monica, 12 x 9, oil and Monica, charcoal on paper, 14 x 11
The Butterfly Carpet Murders, the latest addition to my Bella Sarver Mystery series, is now available on Amazon.com.
It’s been a long two years and the pandemic isn’t over yet, but it’s finally under control, thanks to vaccines, masks, and treatment options. Bella Sarver and her husband, Art Halperin, are thrilled to be able to travel once more. They’ve been so looking forward to visiting the UK, particularly, the Scottish Highlands, home to so much beauty and fascinating history. True to expectations, the Highlands are indeed beautiful, but they’re also filled with ghosts from the past, ghosts that insist on intruding into the present. When one of their fellow tourists meets with an accident, Bella wonders – was it an accident? Or something more sinister? Could it really be the curse of the butterfly carpet?
Though Art is leery of his wife getting involved with the case, Bella can’t help herself. She just has to figure out ‘who dunnit?’ Doesn’t she?
Bella Sarver is back! My husband and I visited Scotland last year and were fascinated by its beauty and especially, its long and complex history. Wouldn’t this make a wonderful setting for a new Bella Sarver mystery, I asked myself. The answer was ‘Yes, absolutely, ‘ so I got to work, and the result is The Butterfly Carpet Murders, to be released on December 14th, when it will be available on Amazon.com. Watch for the announcement!
It’s been a long two years and the pandemic isn’t over yet, but it’s finally under control, thanks to vaccines, masks, and treatment options. Bella Sarver and her husband, Art Halperin, are thrilled to be able to travel once more. They’ve been so looking forward to visiting the UK, particularly, the Scottish Highlands, home to so much beauty and fascinating history. True to expectations, the Highlands are indeed beautiful, but they’re also filled with ghosts from the past, ghosts that insist on intruding into the present. When one of their fellow tourists meets with an accident, Bella wonders – was it an accident? Or something more sinister? Could it really be the curse of the butterfly carpet?
Though Art is leery of his wife getting involved with the case, Bella can’t help herself. She just has to figure out ‘who dunnit?’ Doesn’t she?
The pandemic affected all of us–young, old and in-between–in various ways, but I don’t think anyone was left unharmed. The most painful effect I experienced (besides contracting Covid. Twice.) was being deprived of my accustomed, almost daily, contact with fellow artists and writers. I always knew I valued those relationships, but I hadn’t realized how important they were to me until I wasn’t free to experience them anymore. One of the things that kept me sane (?) was watching episodes of Death in Paradise, not so much for the characters and plots but for the gorgeous, inspiring scenery. The beautiful, if fictional, Caribbean island of Ste. Marie reminded me that there was still life out there, and I’d get to see it again someday. So what better title for my recently completed paintings than “Paradise Found” and “Paradise Afternoon?” I hope you enjoy them.
As you know, our grandson, Dillon Jennings, passed away last November. He left behind a legacy of photos and poetry, which I have compiled into a nice hard-cover book and published for him, in his memory. If you’d like a copy, it’s available now on Amazon.com. Any proceeds from sales will go towards a memorial bench for Dillon in his favorite forest preserve, where he spent a lot of time and composed his work.
My beloved grandson, Dillon, died almost three weeks ago. He was only 28 years old and should have had a long and happy life ahead of him. Instead, he somehow lost his way and couldn’t find his path back. Unbeknown to anyone, he seems to have spent much of the last year of his life roaming through the forest preserve near his home, taking wonderful pictures, and writing brief poems about them. To be honest, many of those poems don’t make a lot of sense to me, yet I can see a certain beauty in them, in his choice of words and images, in his rhythms and rhymes. Many of the others, though, are quite moving. Dillon thought a lot about the nature of the universe, about time, about God.
The photos, too, are well-composed and artistic. They aren’t merely snapshots, but carefully designed images. Dillon posted all his photos and poems on Instagram, where they were apparently seen by almost nobody. Not until after he was gone.
I have spent a lot of the time since he left us downloading all of the images and poems, and I am compiling them into a book, which I will publish when it’s ready. I’ve given it a title, based on one of the poems. In a Mirror—Reflections in Pictures and Poems. It’s all we have left of Dillon now. And our memories, of course. We—his family who loved him so much—will always keep his memory alive in our hearts.
Sometimes people ask me how I come up with my titles. Well, I enjoy naming my pieces almost as much as I do creating them in the first place. I try to invent names that give the viewer a hint of what I was thinking while I was painting, but at the same time, something that leaves a bit of mystery, a little question in their minds. I’m calling this piece Gothic Bazaar. Why? Well, the pointed arch is a bit of Gothic architecture, isn’t it? And the colors remind me of the time I visited the bazaar in Istanbul, full of golds and secret passageways and hidden corners. Touristy? Sure, but all the same exotic and fun. Everything about this–the design, the colors, and yes – even the title, says Whimsy. A bit of whimsy to brighten up a cold winter day.
Lipkin Gallery 