American Art – Part I of V: John Charles Terelak
In the words of one writer, “John Charles Terelak is recognized as one of America’s finest living impressionists. Born in Boston, Massachusetts, he received formal art instruction at the Vesper George School of Fine Art. Terelak’s love of paint and canvas and his thorough understanding of color theory and paint technique eventually led him to become Headmaster of the Gloucester Academy of Fine Art. As demand for his work grew, it eventually became necessary for John to devote his full energies to the creation of his own paintings. Since making that decision he has enjoyed outstanding and continuing success in his career. His professional career at the easel now spans more than three decades. In addition to his beautiful work in oil, Terelak is also a master in watercolor and pastel. He is also a past President of The New England Watercolor Society.”
“The American lives in a land of wonders, in which everything seems to be in constant flux, and every change seems to mark an advance. Hence the idea of the new is coupled in his mind with the idea of the better. Nowhere does he perceive the limits that nature may have imposed on man’s efforts. In his eyes, that which does not exist is that which has not yet been attempted.” – From “Democracy in America,” by Alexis de Tocqueville, French political thinker and historian, who was born 29 July 1805.
Some quotes from “Democracy in America”:
“It would seem that if despotism were to be established among the democratic nations of our days, it might assume a different character; it would be more extensive and more mild; it would degrade men without tormenting them.”
“Nothing is more wonderful than the art of being free, but nothing is harder to learn how to use than freedom.”
“Nothing conceivable is so petty, so insipid, so crowded with paltry interests, in one word, so anti-poetic, as the life of a man in the United States.”
“The religionists are the enemies of liberty, and the friends of liberty attack religion; the high-minded and the noble advocate bondage, and the meanest and most servile preach independence; honest and enlightened citizens are opposed to all progress, whilst men without patriotism and without principle put themselves forward as the apostles of civilization and intelligence. Has such been the fate of the centuries which have preceded our own? and has man always inhabited a world like the present, where all things are out of their natural connections, where virtue is without genius, and genius without honor; where the love of order is confounded with a taste for oppression, and the holy rites of freedom with a contempt of law; where the light thrown by conscience on human actions is dim, and where nothing seems to be any longer forbidden or allowed, honorable or shameful, false or true?”
“I do not know if the people of the United States would vote for superior men if they ran for office, but there can be no doubt that such men do not run.”
Died 29 July 1918 – Ernest William Christmas, an Australian painter.
In the words of one historian, “He was elected to the British Royal British Academy in 1909. In 1910-11, he painted mountains and lakes in Argentina and Chile. He lived in San Francisco around 1900 and again around 1915. He was an avid traveller, but spent the last two years of his life in Hawaii, where he painted landscapes including dramatic volcano scenes.”
A Poem for Today
“Dream Song 14”
By John Berryman
Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so.
After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,
we ourselves flash and yearn,
and moreover my mother told me as a boy
(repeatingly) ‘Ever to confess you’re bored
means you have no
Inner Resources.’ I conclude now I have no
inner resources, because I am heavy bored.
Peoples bore me,
literature bores me, especially great literature,
Henry bores me, with his plights & gripes
as bad as achilles,
who loves people and valiant art, which bores me.
And the tranquil hills, & gin, look like a drag
and somehow a dog
has taken itself & its tail considerably away
into mountains or sea or sky, leaving
behind: me, wag.
Reflections in Summer: Wendell Berry
“If we are looking for insurance against want and oppression, we will find it only in our neighbors’ prosperity and goodwill and, beyond that, in the good health of our worldly places, our homelands. If we were sincerely looking for a place of safety, for real security and success, then we would begin to turn to our communities – and not the communities simply of our human neighbors but also of the water, earth, and air, the plants and animals, all the creatures with whom our local life is shared.”
American Art – Part II of V: David Larson Evans
Artist Statement: “I took up oil painting seriously in 2007 as a break from my life as a struggling Printmaker (Intaglio process on zinc plates). Many years were spent sporting ink stained hands in an attempt to master that medium. Now it’s the challenge of ‘Daily Painting’ that bridles my creative drive. Making Art is an essential part of my life and my long-term goal is simple – one day paint something significant.”
Reflections in Summer: Booth Tarkington
“‘I’m not sure he’s wrong about automobiles,’ he said. ‘With all their speed forward they may be a step backward in civilization — that is, in spiritual civilization. It may be that they will not add to the beauty of the world, nor to the life of men’s souls.’”
From the Music Archives: Cass Elliot
“I would say the world’s in terrible shape, but I’m afraid the world would say, ‘Look who’s talking!'” – Cass Elliot (born Ellen Naomi Cohen), American singer and member of The Mamas & the Papas, who died 29 July 1974.
Reflections in Summer: Eudora Welty
“Children, like animals, use all their senses to discover the world. Then artists come along and discover it the same way…Or now and then we’ll hear from an artist who’s never lost it.”
In the words of one critic, Israeli painter Sigal Tsabari (born 1966) “has developed over the years a unique pictorial language, both technically – in her color palette and in the use of various media on one painting – and in her subject matter. Tsabari engages in a sort of pursuit after nature: she follows almost scientifically the development of plants growing in buckets on her balcony, depicting the changing hues of an eggplant and the enlarged shape of the okra fruit, which she doesn’t pick until the fruit dries off and hangs from the branch like a dead appendage. Such arrangements are often juxtaposed with images taken from her personal and family life. The growth of a plant serves as a metaphor for the growth of a person, or the growth of a child in the uterus. Themes of sexuality and motherhood comprise an important aspect of her work, as expressed in images of fertility and growth in nature.”
“The universe is a continuous web. Touch it at any point and the whole web quivers.” – Stanley Kunitz, American poet and Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress (in 1974 and again in 2000), who was born 29 July 1905.
“End of Summer”
An agitation of the air,
A perturbation of the light
Admonished me the unloved year
Would turn on its hinge that night.
I stood in the disenchanted field
Amid the stubble and the stones
Amazed, while a small worm lisped to me
The song of my marrow-bones.
Blue poured into summer blue,
A hawk broke from his cloudless tower,
The roof of the silo blazed, and I knew
That part of my life was forever over.
Reflections in Summer: Don Marquis
American Art – Part III of V: Stephen Early
Stephen Early studied at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, the Art Students League in New York City, and Studio Incamminati in Philadelphia. He won a Certificate of Excellence at the 10th Annual International Portrait Competition hosted by the Portrait Society of America.”
A Second Poem for Today
“Summer’s Almost Gone”
By William Trowbridge
The squirrels are spreading the rumor: no more monkey business.
The Dow Jones hops up, then down, then back up, trying for attention,
up against dog days.
The Capitol dome rattles like a witch doctor’s gourd. “More Republicans,”
warn the talking drums.
The networks labor underground to stockpile T, A, and blood capsules
for Sweeps Week, when all hell won’t be enough to save some.
Pedestrians slip into light coats of pollen and mold spores.
The ‘Enquirer’ reports the sighting of Satan’s image over Chicago during
the heat emergency. His words were, “For the hottest deals in town,
see Sal at Mutto’s Chevrolet on East Wacker.”
The old elms shrug: “You think this is hot: we could tell you about hot.”
Walmart and Kmart burgeon into crooked towers of back-to-school
candy. They’re heaven-bound, via the moon. Greeters offer
themselves to the lowest common denominator. There’s a Blue-
Light on moon caps.
Representatives from Tire City have announced they intend a hostile
takeover and cleansing of their former territory, now known as
Carpet City. Furniture City will not intervene.
The NFL’s negotiating for rights to the Baptist Church.
The carnies have packed up the Tilt-A-Whirl and Ferris wheel, leaving us
up to our ass in free parking.
Everyone under 30 dreams of shoplifting some Air Jordans for school.
Everyone over 30 dreams of going to prison for shoplifting.
The hypochondriacs wake up noticing little dark spots in front of their
eyes, think they could be in the middle of something serious.
“Winterize now,” say the prime-time commercials. “Spend, spend, spend!”
cry the cicadas and katydids over the scorched, moonlit lawns.
Reflections in Summer: William Shakespeare
“One may have a blazing hearth in one’s soul and yet no one ever come to sit by it. Passersby see only a wisp of smoke from the chimney and continue on the way.” – Vincent van Gogh, Dutch post-Impressionist painter and artistic genius, who died 29 July 1890,
Below – “The Night Café”; “The Red Vineyard”; “Two Peasant Women Digging in a Snow-Covered Field at Sunset”; “Courtesan” (after Eisen); “Wheatfield Under Thunderclouds”; “Self-Portrait with Straw Hat.”
A Third Poem for Today
“A Shropshire Lad: 52: Far in a western brookland”
By A. E. Housman
Far in a western brookland
That bred me long ago
The poplars stand and tremble
By pools I used to know.
There, in the windless night-time,
The wanderer, marvelling why,
Halts on the bridge to hearken
How soft the poplars sigh.
He hears: long since forgotten
In fields where I was known,
Here I lie down in London
And turn to rest alone.
Reflections in Summer: Hunter S. Thompson
Polish artist Anna Masiul-Gozdecka graduated from the Warsaw Academy of Arts in 2000. In the words of one critic, “She paints realistic and abstract paintings with the technique of acrylic paints and collages. Her works are in collections around the world: Poland, United Kingdom, Kanada, Australia, Taiwan, Luxemburg, Switzerland, and Singapore.”
A Fourth Poem for Today
“Towards The End Of Summer”
By Al Zolynas
Late at night I look out the window
at the geese sleeping in the grass,
their heads thrust deep into their wing-pits.
They ask nothing of me.
They lie washed by rain
dreaming of tall grass and wide marshes,
the migrations of dim ancestors.
Reflections in Summer: Ray Bradbury
From the American History Archives – Part I of II: Olympic National Park
American Art – Part IV of V: Dean Fisher
Dean Fisher studied at the American Academy of Art in Chicago and engaged in independent study at the Prado Museum in Madrid, The Louvre Museum in Paris, and the National Gallery of Art in London.
Artist Statement: “While normally being inspired to paint or draw just about any form which is bathed in light, I am particularly interested when challenged to arrange a grouping of forms within the format of my canvas or paper to suit my aesthetic needs.
The physical, ‘real’ world is visually fascinating to me; I strive to represent solid forms with fidelity; figure, tree, cup, etc. with a sense of breathable air around them combined with a tactile quality of surface which can bring the viewer closer to the painting and the made by hand process which was employed to make it.
My preference is for suggested color as opposed to saturated color.
I seek an interrelationship and fluidity between the forms represented.
The feeling which is most often repeated in my work is that of equilibrium and balance and occasionally a gentle lyricism.
Most importantly, I purposely try to avoid over explaining my art with the hope that the viewer comes away with her or his own impressions, interpretation or narrative of the work, when that happens naturally I feel the work is serving it’s purpose.”
Reflections in Summer: Elyne Mitchell
From the American History Archives – Part II of II: Ken Burns
“It is the great arrogance of the present to forget the intelligence of the past” – Ken Burns, American director, documentary film producer, and the creative genius behind both “The Civil War” and “Baseball,” who was born 29 July 1953.
“The Civil War” is a masterpiece, depicting with consummate artistry the tragic complexities of a conflict that in some ways is the American equivalent of “The Iliad.”
Reflections in Summer: Wendell Berry
“The river and the garden have been the foundations of my economy here. Of the two I have liked the river best. It is wonderful to have the duty of being on the river the first and last thing every day. I have loved it even in the rain. Sometimes I have loved it most in the rain.”
Back from the Territory – Art: Aggiaq Petalaussie
Aggiaq Petalaussie is an Inuit sculptor.
Back from the Territory, I share this with you, before I light out again.
Reflections in Summer: Hindu proverb
“There are hundreds of paths up the mountain, all leading to the same place, so it doesn’t matter which path you take. The only person wasting time is the one who runs around the mountain, telling everyone that his or her path is wrong.”
A Fifth Poem for Today
“Buckroe, After the Season, 1942”
By Virginia Hamilton Adair
Past the fourth cloverleaf, by dwindling roads
At last we came into the unleashed wind;
The Chesapeake rose to meet us at a dead end
Beyond the carnival wheels and gingerbread.
Forsaken by summer, the wharf. The oil-green waves
Flung yellow foam and sucked at disheveled sand.
Small fish stank in the sun, and nervous droves
Of cloud hastened their shadows over bay and land.
Beyond the NO DUMPING sign in its surf of cans
And the rotting boat with nettles to the rails,
The horse dung garlanded with jeweling flies
And papers blown like a fleet of shipless sails,
We pushed into an overworld of wind and light
Where sky unfettered ran wild from earth to noon,
And the tethered heart broke loose and rose like a kite
From sands that borrowed diamonds from the sun.
Reflections in Summer: Tom Robbins
American Art – Part V of V: William Ternes
In the words of one writer, “William E. Ternes was educated at the University of Wisconsin and Columbia University where he received a B.S. degree in Art Education and an MBA respectively. He has studied at both the School of the Museum of Fine Arts and Massachusetts College of Art.Ternes’ paintings have been included in various exhibitions sponsored by the American Watercolor Society, Allied Artists, Audobon Artists, National Arts Club, and Salmagundi Club. He is a member of The Guild of Boston Artists, the Copley Society, the New England Watercolor Society and in 2007 was voted into the American Watercolor Society. His work is represented in a number of fine art galleries and has been collected internationally, including the Governor and Mrs. Peter Penfold of Tortola, British Virgin Islands where his paintings are on display at the Governor’s official residence. Corporate collections include Bank of America, John Hancock and Transco Corporation.”