The end of our community event cycle has arrived, and time has come to summarize and reflect on this occasion of our artistic coming together under the auspices of the late William Segal and his template for spiritual and artistic work. All the works of participants are hanging together, gallery style, on the wall opposite of Segal’s exhibition of 18 pieces, which were the first pieces to be accessioned into our permanent collection this year; the first pieces to come into our holdings after the collection assessment freeze. The MAS Board of Directors and MAS Executive Director, Susan Welsh, made the decision to freeze acquisitions while we assessed our holdings, organized and analyzed what we have, and what those works need. I never realized how holdings could have needs; how acquisitions require work for the life of the holding of it: conservation, storage, and cleaning. Objects require consideration; where do they belong, and how can we keep them safe? It is honoring the object and doing it justice that we cast our eye on what we have here. It was without doubt that the works of William Segal belong here, in Segal’s birthplace and early years of the 20th century. His life spanned that century; he was born into it and made from it, and we have his record of it through his artwork.

The fact that a man’s life can be used as a template for study is a special thing. That a man could exemplify something to emulate; that his work and his demeanor reflected in his artistic expression could, 21 years after his death, be resurrected and used to further evolve a community of artists in this first part of the 21st century, is quite remarkable. This is exactly what we have done.

I remember sitting at my computer making notes about this idea to invite our community into a practice of meditation, painting, creating, and then hosting their efforts in a group show. I remember thinking how this felt risky and hard. I remember deciding not to do this; it seemed like it would be resisted somehow, but Covid continued to press my coworkers and me to move through that kind of fear of failure or the fear of that work done, possibly not resulting in success. I hate to waste hard work.

It may not look like a huge success; the number of participants (perfect in my eyes) was relatively small, but the outreach to disenfranchised artists who work solo, for the most part, further isolated by pandemic, made an impact. When I first started handling the works, I saw something in Segal’s practice that resonated with my own personal motivations. Those motivations are based on the premise that art is a vehicle, not unlike psychotherapy, that can be used to heal all sorts of wounds and trauma. Our experiences here in Macon during the Covid shutdown needed some kind of balm, some kind of dressing, and this seemed to be it.

Here are the dedicated participants by name: Rod Whyte, Edna Garrett, Bren Powell, Teri Brice Carter, Tara Williamson, Wendy Loren, Alex Kittel (Germany), and Sophie. Each participant came together with curiosity and dedication. We gathered out of unspoken loneliness and grief of suffering the effects, known and unknown, of the pandemic. We used art and community to connect and to feel better. We bravely shared some pretty intimate thoughts together safely via zoom. Unfinished work and works in awkward progress were generously and vulnerably shared. Thoughts were pondered. It wasn’t a pedagogical experience, one of lessons and teaching, but more of community and of connection. In pandemic times of great separation and isolation, this series of events was not only helpful but necessary.

Because it was promoted and offered via zoom, we were also able to scoop up some takers in Europe! Imagine my shock and delight that two participants joined us from the UK and one from Germany! I could feel Segal and his erudite well-traveled charm wink his good eye – he loved spending quiet time in a cathedral in France.

I have written a lot about the three genres in the past weeks through materials and art history I shared with participants, which served as a type of reference or syllabus, so I won’t go into all that again; it is academic information of interest to the participating artists. What I will do is recap the scope of events. Using meditation and spiritual work, Segal painted the three major genres: Self-Portrait/Portrait, Still Life, Landscape. We followed suit, sharing helpful meditations, studying the masters of art history in each genre, and sharing our individual favorites in our zoom meetings. Each genre received three sessions. The Art of the Landscape wrapped up the entire series, and now that it is completed, we find ourselves a small salon- like Segal and his wife would hold in Manhattan and Paris in the 1930s-50s, except ours is right here in Middle Georgia (and Germany and England). After each genre, the participants brought their work to hang in the gallery here at the Museum of Arts and Sciences. They are placed together and in conjunction with our inspirer and coconspirator, William Segal.

We are a bit richer now, in these months, having come together and shared and committed and worked. Painting is a solo gig and can be very lonely. Coupled with the isolation of the pandemic, it was a very helpful and easily executable activity that helped us stay well on all fronts. Wellness in a community relates to the health of its arts. I’ve read this before, that one can judge the health of a city or town by its health of the arts: visual, musical, theatre, museums, and city/street art.

We here in Middle Georgia are one step closer to good health. I thank my artistic peers so much for making this work, for committing to the events, and being so generous of spirit, time, and effort.

I believe we will go forward together in time, recording life in Georgia, not unlike Segal did. And who knows? Maybe one day, in a small town in Germany, a group might find our template helpful.

My best,
Kristy Edwards
Curator of Art
Museum of Arts and Sciences

 

Below are works of the participants of the Segal community events.

The Art of Self-Portrait

 

 

 

 

 

The Art of the Still Life

The Art of The Landscape

Kristina Larson lives, works, and creates in New Orleans, Louisiana. Her CV and background include interesting departures and turns from the traditional and expected studio artist route. Because of these additions to her career, she fills out her oeuvre; she has a broader understanding of art, the world, and the art world. Her accomplishments include being a practicing art appraiser- she is an associate member of Appraisers Association of America. By adding this bona fide source of work in the fine art appraisal field, she enriches her experience and handling of her craft. It is wonderful how artists find areas of interest and expertise to offer the world.

I had the pleasure of joining Kristina for an online Instagram LIVE interview/chat last Monday during her day off from Octavia Gallery, where she is director. We have 12 of her iconic pieces on display in our ninth annual Emerging National show up until May 26th. MAS Executive Director, in conjunction with our Board of Directors, has added Kristina’s “Wall Flowers” to our permanent collection here at MAS. She builds most of her sculptural ceramics by hand, glazes, and fires them in the same general way that functional pottery is fired, but her results are very unique.

Kristina’s work feels organic at the first pass. Her pieces are built upward in a sort of natural growth pattern, much like a plant. Some of them look like coral formations from underneath the sea. Some of them look like lava or molten rock. One piece, which doubles as an end table, has clear resin and green paint. The green seems to glow because it is deep in the resin, which magnifies incoming light. Another piece looks like black coral with holes here and there. What’s even more exciting is the intermittent addition of LED rope lights in some of the pieces causing them to have a futuristic vibe. Her work is something new, different, and paradoxical even; the lighting is exciting and modern- harkening to neon. There is a hint of paradox by combining the lighting and the natural amorphic shapes that would not occur together unless she had decided to put them together in this exciting way.

Kristina explained to me that the three sculptures that have rope LED lights are called “Scholar Stones.” Gongshi, as the Chinese refer to them, are the naturally occurring rocks that ancient Chinese scholars admired and kept on their desks and in their meditation space for inspiration and guidance. They could weigh one pound or several hundreds of pounds; most of them were of karstic limestone. There were four characteristics that a scholar stone might embody: openness, thinness, perforations, and/or wrinkling. They were considered beautiful by the Chinese Scholars. Kristina extrapolates this ancient tradition by adding the lighting, making them distinctly beautiful, and her own style.

Her other pieces, which do not all have LED lighting, are aesthetically pleasing in their form and arrangement. There are several sculptures that are entirely white with a glossy glaze. Upright and layered, they have a sense of fragility and complexity to them. She often leaves the edges of the form raw and fraying: cracked in the way only clay does. Kristina organizes her forms to bring them up from the base as if resonant of a tree form or a biomorphic pyramid. With the way she builds these sculptures, sometimes wheel-thrown, sometimes hand-built, often a combination of the two, she relies on gravity, chance, and that keen awareness that comes from witnessing shifting things around and seeing “THAT’S IT!!!”

The sophisticated flair of Kristina Larson’s sculpture makes her work especially well-suited for private collections and interior design. A departure from the regular 2D paintings many people collect, her 3D work fills a gap in many private art collections. Her work is held by Sloan Kettering Cancer Institute and Savannah College of Art and Design in Savannah, where she obtained her Masters in Art Administration.

One of the most exciting pieces we have on display is called Blue Cloud. The lacy white glazed clay creates this ribbon-like form that is soothing on the eye, especially with the blue LED rope lights interred into its interiors following the movement of the form. There is something timeless yet futuristic about this sculpture. It is so easy on the eye that I believe one may never tire of it being in their space.

I often write about art, its creators, and their frame of mind and inspiration. I find it difficult to do this sometimes and now is such a time. First of all, there is absolutely no substitute for seeing art for yourself in person, so my writing always seems to fall short of that aspect. You should have your own experience with the pieces. I feel sometimes I am an interloper in that intimate process. Such time is now. Kristina’s work, while there is plenty to SAY about it, deserves less talk and more experience. Her works are tactile; they’re flush with light. Her plainer glossy white pieces are calming and mostly about gravity and form. For me to wax on about this or that seems counterintuitive. Kristina’s process as an artist is in real-time, with the real medium of clay. Her hands are the instruments, and her internal witness is her designer.

Because Kristina earned a Masters of Art in Art Administration from SCAD in Savannah, is a practicing member of the American Association of Appraisers, AND works in Octavia Gallery, she knows firsthand of the important symbiotic relationship between collectors and artists. She is on both ends of that relationship. Kristina knows what resonates with collectors, and she brings that sensibility to her work. She understands that people often want to feel something; something unique and special, something different. They want to be moved in some way that they may not even know yet. Kristina knows this and includes that in her process. We see that she takes risks in developing her own POV and adds and subtracts elements, although we sense that no element is off limits even using automotive paint in the process. Unlike many artists who work solely from their own POV and agenda or story, Kristina includes us in the process of her work, reaching out to us as though it has its own desire to be seen by us.

I feel inept to discuss that which cannot be named in Kristina’s art. I do not want to be irresponsible with describing or interpreting her work in my sincere effort to bring it to you. I don’t want to be overly wordy about something wordless. Her work doesn’t use images either, just material. The best thing I can say is that you must see for yourself.

In closing, I am grateful for her contributions to the art world; grateful she brings sophistication to objects that have a function and can easily fit into our lifestyles whether through jewelry- wearable art- or as furniture. Kristina Larson has a holistic view of art objects, and by bringing her art into your world, you can bring that sensibility of wholeness in with it.

I think it is safe to say that we can expect one thing from Kristina Larson:

THE UNEXPECTED.

My best,
Kristy Edwards
Curator of Art

Will Penny lives and creates in Savannah, Georgia. He has his BFA and MFA degrees and is a painter, a sculptor, and a 3d computer designer while also teaching at SCAD. We have his works onsite in our Emerging National IX Show. Some of his works are based on the grid design, and he concentrates on how the artist must deal with the two-dimensional limitations of creating. In order to pull off the illusion of reality in any way, they must find a way to either break that plane or work within it by employing the illusion of perspective, shadows, and other artistic devices.

Penny gave me some thoughts about his intentions, inspirations, and work when I spoke to him Live yesterday on our @masmacon Instagram TV channel. He showed us around his studio, a space he shares with other creators. It’s a “maker’s space” outfitted with tables, computer screens, and walls that have spray shadows on them. Works are hanging neatly around the space. Artists studios are among some of the most sought-after images on Pinterest. We, artists and non-artists alike, can’t get enough of these spaces.

Will Penny was born in 1984 in Canada. He was raised in an era of the very beginnings of home PCs. His whole world was becoming digitized before his very eyes, and he was watching. He created an installation of television flat-screen TVs on a dais in Georgia’s Gallery. On the screens are layers of images and shapes; deep within the layers are buried images from art history. There is a slow movement and metamorphosis that we can watch as it’s happening. It’s exciting to first encounter the installation as you enter the space; this group of TV screens on legs. It’s oddly, paradoxically meditative and calming. How something can be exciting and calming at the same time is difficult to explain, but it is. It has almost the effect of a water feature on the grounds of a museum or public building. It is an interesting, constant, and pleasant visual white noise. It has a similar effect on me that I experience when I encounter a wall of TV screens somewhere like Best Buy. It’s a shared experience with millions of others, especially from the Boomer generation, often depicted in the 1950s/60s film and shows, showing people standing on the street peering into a shop window at the furniture style TVs that are all tuned in together. It’s something those of us who know, know. His installation is called “Somewhere Else II.” TV, and their first cousins, computer screens, bring images and the world to us. There is a magical quality; these enchanted screens that we never tire of and often wrestle with; our feelings, mixed.

The other works we have in the show, 2D paintings and relief fractal mirrors, are equally interesting. Here is “Static Pose I” and “Static Pose II.”

After the hanging of the works, we found out they are painted in phosphorescent paint. When the lights go out, they glow. Will Penny tucked this surprise in for us. The works stand well even without this fun effect, as works should. He has a bit of a joyful spirit in these surprises; in two of the TV monitors in the installation “Somewhere Else I,” he inserts a rolling giant smiley face that makes its appearance at surprising intervals rolling in and around the screens. You have to be in the right place to catch it, so it feels like a wink from the artist directly to us. The way that Penny slightly abstracted the mythical figures in the pair of grided paintings, “Static Pose I” and “Static Pose II,” was important. By doing this, it gives the visitor a chance to enter into the work without frustration; they can see something, guess at it almost like a Rorschach test, and they can project their immediate sights onto them. We are not fed the answers to what it is we are seeing. Many visitors say they see an elephant; many say a winged angel; some have said monkeys while others have said trees. The figures are actually representatives of images for a 3D printing model of two archetypal game pieces for the types of games that are interactive role-playing games. One is based on the Succubus, the female fantasy entity that beckons and seduces the males, and the other is based on a goddess of the marshes. Some have said they see – as in a Hindu god or goddess- a multi-armed goddess carrying lanterns; a ‘light-bringer.’ From a distance, the viewer can see that these figures seem to be trapped in a net but are in the process of bursting forth towards us. Our visitors gravitate to them immediately.

Another area of Will Penny’s work on display in the Burgess gallery that visitors gravitate towards are the three fractal mirror pieces: Gamut Mirrors, XLIV, and two LIs. In these works, he takes the rectangular 2D substrate and divides it up into mathematical/geometric fractals- triangles of all sorts, and layers the surface with an acrylic mirror with this clean black edge to them. It appears the mirrors are slightly smoked, not too shiny, and silvered, so there is a non-jarring effect on the viewer. The triangles are not flat but instead are physically angled off the plane in space in a sort of geometric bas relief, causing them to pick up the things around them. One triangle picks up something above it, and another picks up something beside it, and so forth. The end effect is all this broken mixed-up perception; all of it is reality, but none of it is as we normally perceive. This makes us wonder; what is it about perception and static perception that creates our reality, and when we break that static reflection of the 2D plane, is it any less real? Not to get too heavy into that area, as brilliant work allows for; the works are just cool. They are fun. They are interesting. Simple everyday words. Human words. These words describe the accessibility of Will Penny’s work.

As a curator of art in the center of the State of Georgia, at an institution that, for 65 years, has held space for fine art, I am very pleased when we show works that serve as a bridge for the average viewer. Due to the lack of art in the public school system on the elementary level, it is up to places like the MAS to help educate children and the adults that did not gain the experience of looking at art through this system. It is artists like Will Penny who makes the bridge through his accessibility. By making his works relatable, interesting, and direct, he brings all sorts of people into art. His work, make no mistake, is very complex, occupies the space where math meets art, holds the thread of art history weaved through technology, and extrapolates to the future. His work is a pivot point between what has been done and what will be done.

Will and I discussed his studies as a painter and his fascination with “Dutch Vanitas” (life is fleeting) and Still Life. The opulence of 17th Century Dutch Still Life captivated his attention. “HOW DO THEY PAINT LIKE THAT” is the burning question of any young painter setting out to create and looking at art history for help. In dealing with those questions, Will created two enigmatic pieces called “After de Heem.” In these two pieces of art, Will pays homage to the mastery of the Dutch painter, Jan VanHeem, through his abstracted carving shapes, borrowed from VanHeem’s paintings, in foam. They are all black. They don’t vie for attention but are quiet works. You might even overlook them as you move towards bigger and louder pieces. I can almost liken them to an artistic black hole absorbing light. If not for the highly reflective glass, there is no light or color; a void. I wondered as I peered into the works on the wall and only saw my image reflected on the outer glass frame, like a mirror. Is this what he means to tell us? As philosopher Jesuit Priest, Pierre Teillhard de Chardin, says :

“The being who is the object of his own reflection, in consequence of That very doubling back upon himself, becomes in a flash able to raise himself into a new sphere. In reality, another world is born. Abstraction, logic, reasoned choice and inventions, mathematics, art, calculation of space and time, anxieties and dreams of love–all these activities of inner life are nothing else than the effervescence of the newly-formed centre as it explodes onto itself.” (“The Phenomenon of Man,” 1955, p. 165)

Is this glass glare reflection a hindrance to us viewing art? Our own Vanitas in our face? Being so distracted and disconcerted by my own image, I had to work to look through it to see the art beyond. I could hardly photograph them for it.

While I doubt Will had these intentions for the de Heem pieces, I nevertheless projected my experience onto them, which I thought might be an interesting layer. It is through the generosity of the artist that we indulge in the privilege of projection. It is the artist who does not spoon-feed us our experience but leaves room for us to do ‘our thing’ with their work, to whom I am most grateful. Thank you.

I’ve said this many times; art has to stand by itself, alone. It does not need curating. You are free to ponder it and project, but having some sort of guide, as in a curator or an interpreter, makes art even more meaningful. It is then you uncover the depth and complexity of art as you connect with the intentions and thought of its creator, you truly can be transfixed and transformed.

Please come see Will Penny’s work. All of the pieces serve as a sort of installation in that you are invited by him to engage. I’m not sure all paintings do that- but his do.

My best,
Kristy. Edwards
Curator of Art
MAS Macon, GA
478-477-3232 kedwards@masmacon.com

When I curated the Segal “Seeing and Being” exhibition that coincided with the accession of 17 important works by the late William Segal, I felt a pull towards creating some kind of relevant community invitation. Segal, Macon born, was a publishing magnate, spiritual seeker and practitioner, and general all-around aesthete extraordinaire. I wanted to take the model that Segal practiced under (using stillness and mediations; a means to help him pay attention to the beautiful world that surrounds us) and then connecting that external reality to the reality of our interior space. I wanted to reach out to the artists out “there” in our community and beyond; I wanted to use his example in real-time with real people.

The first of these events was intense Self Introspection (as Segal himself practiced), and the event, which is over now, was called “The Art of the Self Portrait.” Several artists saw the promotions and signed up via masmacon.org. The offering came through zoom, and I served as host. I would not TEACH but rather guide and offer support, creating a small, close-knit community. We would investigate these practices of Segal’s together. The fruits of the labor, the self-portraits of the participants, would be offered to a larger audience via the walls of the Elam Alexander Gallery and our social media.

I have waited to report on the event’s success until it was completed. We are now most of the way through the second event, The Art of Still Life, and those works will soon join the Self-Portraits hanging in the museum. In the deep spring, we will have the last of the three events- The Landscape. All three of these genres are offered in the Seeing and Being exhibition, which were painted by Segal. This community was created alongside a man who has long since been dead (Segal passed in 2000), who would be 117 years old. Consider this: his influence is alive and well 21 years after his death, all because of his lifelong valuable example of making art by creating paintings and consistently using spiritual guidance and introspection as his template. I feel sure the spirit of Mr. Segal floats happily and most satisfied through our whole event cycle.

The community at large is invited to come to see this unique show, both Segal’s work and the amazing works of art done by the participants. The self-portraits are up now and are featured in this blog below.

The following works are offered for your enjoyment with permission given from the artists: Edna Garrett, Teri Brice Carter, Wendy Loren, Tara Williamson, Rod Whyte, and Bren Powell.

 

Edna Garrett, Perry, Georgia

 

“This portrait class challenged us to look deeply into ourselves in order to paint a sensitive self portrait as inspired by the works of William Segal. We were encouraged to use meditation, music or other means of self reflection to look past our exterior image to portray our inner selves.” (Edna Garrett, Perry, Georgia)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edna Garrett, Perry, Georgia

 

 

“Our perception of ourselves is different than what others see. And, when we look in the mirror, we see only our exterior, and that in reverse. The truth lies somewhere in-between.” (Edna Garrett, Perry, Georgia)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Terri Brice Carter, Macon, Georgia

 

“I’m drawn to color and how it relates to value. For my self-portrait, I wanted to create a recognizable representation of me without leaning on realism so I chose to look at values instead of color matching and work from that angle. I worked mostly from a mirror which is not the norm for me so, when I finished, I realized that my portrait is actually a mirror image of me- my artistic reflection!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wendy Loren, Hendersonville, North Carolina

 

“Capturing the feeling of confinement during the first 6 months of the Covid-19 pandemic. The feeling was heightened by the necessity to move into a tiny apartment for a period of time before we could move into our new home in October.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tara Williamson, Kathleen, Georgia

 

“In creating this self-portrait I aimed to show a compassionate expression. With sickness, hurt, and loneliness at the forefront of every human’s mind in this time, I feel compassion is so important for all. While I was creating the portrait I pushed the color of my blue eyes to be more saturated than in real life. I paired that color with the color of my shirt and it resonated with me. I realized that what I also wanted were bright blue skies instead of clouds. I wanted to have hope. Hope for the future and hope for happiness.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rod Whyte, Macon, Georgia

 

“A professional artist and retired art educator, I found digital painting in the early days of its inception. Being a long time painter who loves color, I learned to use the iPad and computer software to create color texture and patterns in my work. This self portrait shows my feeling of contemplating loss and isolation during Pandemic. Art has been a way to keep me in touch with my spirit and express love of the world around me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bren Powell, Macon, Georgia

 

“Working in encaustic- creating art by heating and melting colored waxes to give design, texture, depth to the painting, this technique presents challenges in getting details and controlling lines. By carving back the layers, the artist is able to get unique unreproducible results working in the present moment to create the piece. The layers makes it difficult to control lines so you can see some carving back which also reveals melting of the tree resin and beeswax. It is an organic medium with which both physicality and a bit of courage play equal parts. I love working in encaustic because of these unique properties.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bren Powell, Macon, Georgia

 

“Although a self-portrait, I painted this to demonstrate the versatility of the medium showing texture with honey dripping from the top and appreciation to the honey bee.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have formed quite a bond with these amazing individuals who joined our event and created these beautiful, thoughtful pieces. These are our people, take a look at them and know them. They are indicative of what’s possible when we join together for art, as a community, with deep introspection and care.

I look forward to bringing you the finished pieces of the Art of the Still Life Event, which will finish on March 29th. The works will join these above in the Museum of Arts and Sciences Elam Alexander Gallery, awaiting those yet to be painted in the Art of the Landscape event which happens in April.

Please come see us- so many valuable things to see and experience at the Museum of Arts and Sciences.

My best,

Kristy Edwards

Curator of Art

kedwards@masmacon.com

478-477-3232

Though paintings hang all day long at galleries and museums all alone on the wall, with no one to explain them, and they do just fine all by themselves telling the viewer whatever it wants or the viewer projecting what they want, I still believe art is so much more deeply understood when something of the artist’s technique and ideology is known and can be added to the interpretation. This understanding is often offered by someone like a curator or an art historian. I find that this belief holds true with the work of Whitney Wood Bailey hanging in the Burgess Gallery until May 29th as a part of the annual Emerging Artists IX show.

Even without a word from my mouth, Bailey’s paintings speak through her voice, and the paintings by their own voice. The size helps them have a BIG voice; the intricacies and the sheer number of marks pump up the volume. One cannot walk into the gallery of 7 paintings (all 5-7’ in dimension) and not hear them. Somehow, Bailey has managed to envelop you in them, which is due to the way that MAS Executive Director, Susan Welsh, curated the walls with them. They are alike enough to feel cohesive, yet each one is totally unique from the others. The room of her paintings becomes an installation of sorts, meaning that you experience them instead of merely seeing them; you actually feel them. They envelop you creating an ‘otherworld’ feeling. Yet that ‘otherworld’ is obviously familiar- either as a Hubble-esque image of space, deep ocean, or landforms. You do not feel separate from them or that they are all that foreign. Her work hits a deep note in its viewer; a note of resonance.

 

 

I had the pleasure of speaking with Whitney regarding her process, her thoughts, and philosophy on our Instagram TV. Her artist statement is available to be read here or listened to read by me here on our Instagram. She is definitely driven as one can see by the sheer complexity of work, the numbers of them, and sizes of them.

 

Whitney developed her own technique; she discovered it by accident when a carbonated diet drink spilled on a piece of Arches Cotton Watercolor Paper, soaking and drying into a pattern so beautiful she stopped in her tracks when she found it. Being conscious enough to pick that accident up and develop it into a working technique is how we have the work we see now at MAS. Another interesting facet of Bailey’s technique is the intentional brushwork of her “ticking,” as she refers to it; a small flat brush triple loaded (three colors on it at once) is used to lay strokes over the dried abstracted surface. In some paintings, they are in shapes, and others as a whole mesh-like surface, creating a gauze we must look through. This ”ticking” was something inspired by her visit to the early cave paintings in France, where she saw the evidence of this type of patterning. The cave paintings are some of the earliest markings of art made by humans.

 

 

The paintings are a combination- an interplay- between organic happenings as byproducts of the laws of physics (i.e., drips and runs) that the mediums of acrylic perform and her detail-oriented trained eye. With watchful intelligence, she steps in to guide the chaotic creations that are amorphic and alive on the canvas. Once she is satisfied by what she sees and the process is dry, she comes back with another layer of work; intentional strokes guided by her intelligence and sensibility. That intelligence and sensibility are unique to her yet very familiar to all of us outside of her, which is exactly why the work is so successful. We recognize the finished product as something akin to the great formations of space, ocean, and mountains. I even saw a resemblance between sections of Joy Fields and the Mandelbrot Set, which is a mathematical equation that makes a visual and can be seen here on this video. There is an elegance in creation that is somewhat accidental and somewhat planned. Bailey’s paintings are this way as well.

A deeply faithful and prayerful person, Bailey integrates her faith, letting go and trusting what happens with her artistic reason, using her logic and her skill to step in and control and interact with that trusted happenstance and accidental swirls and drips and puddles. While one often hears that “there are no accidents,” it is true that there are uncontrolled aspects to both life and Bailey’s paintings. By weaving in these occurrences intelligently into the whole of the finished product, she creates on a small scale what Divine Intelligence creates on an immeasurable scale.

Aside from all of this, the works by themselves are whole works worthy of the same wonder that a great sunset or mountain range elicits. By tapping into that wonder, Bailey gives us the unspeakable, ineffable beauty that exists all around us in nature.

She and I have come together in a shared belief, through her suffering with Mast Cell Disease and with the care of my handicapped son, who was born with a genetic bone disease, we both agree that the making of art can alleviate suffering. Its medicine soothes, its neural grooves form places of mediation in the brain. Making art is good for what ‘ails ya’ as we say here in the south. It not only helps the human who makes the art, but the art they make helps what ‘ails’ our whole world.

Come see the wonderful works of Whitney Wood Bailey in the Emerging National IX Exhibition in the Burgess Gallery.
All works are available for purchase; information is available upon request.

My best,

Kristy Edwards
Curator of Art
Museum of Arts and Sciences
kedwards@masmacon.com
478-477-3232