Confessions of a Florentine Pet Sitter


Expressions West 2015, Coos Art Museum
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Orbetello Dalmatian by Win Jolley

I am tooting my horn today for the acceptance of my painting into a biennial exhibit at the Coos Bay Art Museum called Expressions West 2015. It’s a fairly big show on the central Oregon coast. This is the first time my work has been accepted since I’ve been in Oregon. And I think it’s all because I served my painting of the bridge structure upside down!

One other local artist, Win Jolley, also got his work accepted. Needless to say, we are both pretty pleased. An elite crowd of two! I am including my image called “Up-Ended” (below) and Win’s image, called “Orbetello Dalmatian” (above) in this blog.

The two are far apart in subject and style and colors, which may be indicative of the juror’s flavor for the show. Win’s is a realistic watercolor rendition of a beautiful Dalmatian dog set in an Italian village, maybe Orbetello? It is crisp, clear, warm colors and superbly designed with excellent draftsmanship.  The color and collage of the repetitive motif on the left, the spots on the dog, and the geometric patterns of bricks together provide a unity of textures and colors.

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Up-Ended by Susan Canavarro

My painting of the local Siuslaw River Bridge structure is abstract based on a flipped version of reality.  The  dark values and rusty colors of the structure set off the blues of nature’s sky; the sky with its soft morning light near the horizon and it’s cool cobalt at its zenith, in turn, acts as a foil or backdrop for the human-made structure. But I was looking for something more abstract, something that didn’t say “bridge,” but said Hey what? It becomes a simple relationship between positive/negative shapes, between natural and human-made, and between what’s up and what’s down. Doing one tiny thing like turning a painting upside down can change it from being a realistic rendition to an abstract design.

The official Press Release is below:

Two local Florence artists, Win Jolley and SusanCanavarro, have had their work juried into the Expressions West 2015 painting competition at the Coos Art Museum. Win’s watercolor “Orbetello Dalmatian” and Susan’s acrylic painting “Up-Ended” were two of sixty-one paintings selected.

The public is invited to attend the opening reception for Expressions West 2015  on April 24 from 5 to 7 pm. Many participating artists will be in attendance. An awards ceremony begins at 6 PM and Juror Brian Hoover will present the prize awards for the competition.​

The Expressions West 2015 painting exhibit runs from April 24 to June 27, 2015. Artists from thirteen western states were invited to compete in this biennial event. Juror Brian Hoover selected sixty-one paintings by forty-four artists residing in California, Colorado, Hawaii, Idaho, New Mexico, Montana, Oregon, and Washington.



Bridge Bones (1)

The act of imagination is the opening of the system so that it shows new connections. Every act of imagination is the discovery of likenesses between two things which were thought unlike. (Jacob Bronowski)

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Bridge Bones, Acrylic on Canvas, 30×40

I like the above quote and believe it applies to much of my work. I look for connections, not while I am painting, but after, when I am sitting and looking and wondering what it’s all about. Why is this painting important to me? Why did I want to paint it? And should it matter to the viewer, or just to me?

Okay, I have to admit it. Man-made constructions set against a natural environments fascinate me. In my mind, what we build isn’t always ugly, and it isn’t necessarily unnatural, for after all we humans are a part of a natural system. We are alive. We live the natural world all around us.

I enjoy juxtaposing the natural with the man-made in my paintings. I find the contrast exciting, even though I don’t always like what we do to our landscape and not all buildings are beautiful, not all changes, natural or man-made, in our landscape are beautiful, but the two things work in conjunction with each other, creating a foil for composition and concept. The contrast of man-made and natural environments provides a built-in subtext to my landscape painting—it is more than just a landscape.  I admit, this is a subjective view.

Bridge Bones is a painting of a small part of the Siuslaw River Bridge overhead structure (in Florence, Oregon). It is a span from one arch to the other of crisscrossed beams that create triangle and parallelogram shapes, allowing the sky to fall through. Structure is important because it holds the bridge up, and in that sense this painting reminds me of a spine, the part that gives it strength to survive since its completion in 1936. Seventy-eight years and more to come, most likely. More than I will ever see. Born ten years later than the completion date for this bridge, I am now sixty-eight years old, and though my spine has crumpled and hunched a bit, I am still held upright by it. It gives me the strength to move around on my feet, to bend over and pick up items that I’ve dropped on the floor in my new-found clumsiness since my chemo treatments. Items like spoons, forks, paint brushes, pots and pans and really big sharp knives just seem to fly out of my hands these days. Considering all that danger of sharp things flying around, not of my purposeful volition, the bridge will certainly outlive me!

Besides holding us up and giving us physical strength, the spine is also a metaphor for emotional and mental strength. I learned during my cancer experience that I am emotionally strong. And I had a great support structure of friends which gave me more strength. They had my back the whole time. I had spine.

I also like that once I am crossing a bridge, I see more. I see more of the beauty I may not see behind the roadside trees and mountainsides, and behind the buildings. A new world opens up, like when you are traveling by train or boat, suddenly great vistas are open to you. Riverbanks reveal pastures,  farm lands spotted with sheep, cattle, horses, barns and fences, and urban interiors. Mountains divide and open up their deep canyons and rivers. Mountains you’ve never seen, appear before your eyes. Have you ever walked or driven across a bridge and expressed awe at the sight of a magnificent view suddenly opened up? First there is light, then the sea and crashing waves on one side, then steep gullies and canyons, reaching deep to the river beds. I’ve seen it. And there’s no better experience that brings a reverence for our natural world than crossing that bridge, being one with that bridge, and feeling as if there are no boundaries between me and the rest of the world.

Looking through the railings, posts and beams of a bridge defines humankind and nature in a whole new perspective. We are not opposed. We are nature, and in that sense, we are beaver builders, bees building beehives and spiders spinning webs. What we build is just as much a part of nature as that which the wild creatures build. (Maybe that’s why spiders, shiver, haunt me so often!)

The simplicity of it for me is that I enjoy the geometric designs and patterns of bridge structures. Set against the backdrop of a clear dome of blue sky, or shroud of dense fog, or floating cumulus clouds high above, or distant muted rocky mountainsides, or crashing ocean waves, the bridge bones make my experience more intense. It’s the bridge juxtaposed with the natural. You can’t have one without the other.



Roadtrees

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© Roadtrees, Acrylic on Canvas 36×36,  Susan Canavarro

Road trees I saw out of the corner of my eye one afternoon as I was driving north on 101 from Coos Bay. I wanted the focus to be on the trees, and not have a definite background subject for this painting. Road trees are those trees left along the road by the clear-cutters. I understand it was an environmental conciliatory effort on the part of the logging company – trees left standing to hide the devastation. It doesn’t work. The devastation remains evident.

I do enjoy the dark and light juxtaposition of the dark shore pines against the light alders, and the background light. Small marks in the background give the feeling of logging detritus afloat in the slight wind created by cars and trucks zipping past the road trees…dust, twigs, leaves jumping with afterglow of the setting sun.



After the Storm, Before the Next
September 25, 2010, 5:17 PM
Filed under: art, Paintings -Inspiration | Tags: , , , , , ,

After the Storm

 

In the morning, I woke up to a vision of gulls and terns swarming over the beach, hundreds choreographed by instinct to move en mass like a gaggle of geese flying to Southern shores. Up and down the length of the waterfront they flew, looking for tiny crabs, clams and other sea delectables washed up by the night’s storm. Simon and I stood together. Mesmerized, we couldn’t stop looking. Simon loved to catch a sunrise with me.    

As the early morning sun rose, lighting up the tree tops in a pink glow, the bird’s wings turned into glitter, as if some unknown force had picked up a handful and threw it into the sky. Dazzling. Unreal. It hovered there, defying gravity. An illusion, but no, it was real. It was the physical phenomenon of sunlight bouncing off their wings as they glided along in their faceted oval ring, some flying south, others, north.    

The sun floated up into the dome, glittering wings disappeared, tree tops turned green again, and a new day was here. But it was a new day with another storm hovering on the horizon, setting the backdrop for this sparkly theater of nature. Even darker and more dramatic, I knew the morning after would surely reveal a monumental feast for the seagulls. A feast for Simon’s and mine eyes. But the new storm passed right by us. Never made land.    

This painting, a large square acrylic canvas, is my attempt to capture all that glitter. All that sparkle. I caught the feeling of birds flying, but not the magic. Magic is fleeting and elusive.    

Using the device of dark brown horizontal bars across the top and bottom serves to create a picture plane within the plane of the canvas itself, creating a greater illusion of deep space. A few of the gulls are flying right out of the picture plane at the viewer. I want to duck my head as I walk by it.    

 © 2007 Susan Canavarro ~ After the Storm, Before the Next Painting.
© 2010 Susan Canavarro  “Confessions” All Rights Reserved. No copying or use of text or images without written permission from the author, Susan Canavarro.




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