Scratchboard drawings, India ink, 1995-97

Wim Hoffman's garden, Vlissingen, Nederlands 1995?

Road Not Taken 1995 (Michael Carey sent me a woodcut by Carl Homestad)

Orchard, Forestville 1995

Celli's Cabins & Redwoods, Forestville 1995

Mucky the Cat Bathing After the Storm, 1995

Plant detail, Building an Ark, prose-poem, 1995

Mt. St. Helena, Sun & Sumi Hills 1995

Mt. St. Helena, Sun & Sumi Hills II, 1995

Oat Grasses, Forestville, 1995

Suicide Rock, Idlewild 1995

Lily (Tahquitz) Rock, Idlewild, II 1995

Russian River Basin, Ukiah Pass 1995

Pine & Russian River, Monte Rio, 1995

Driveway & Michael Celli's Italian Pine, 1995

Cypress & Field, Mayacamas Range 1996 (after a woodcut by B. Bramant)

Mark West Creek meets the Russian River I 1996?

Mt. St. Helena, Flowers 1996 (after Teresa MacLean's April Wind)

Drowned Vineyards, Wholer Bridge 1996?

Submerged Trees in the Russian River, near Monte Rio, 1996

Forestville, after a painting by Fred Meyer, 1996

Mark West Creek & Russian River II, 1996

Oak & Boulder, II, Alexander Valley School, 1996

Oak & Boulder, Alexander Valley School, 1996

Russian River Mouth, After 40 Days of Rain, 1996 (after Tony King's Estero)

Drowned vineyards

Mt. St. Helena

Redwood Reflections, Forestville, 1996

Wohler, & River Road's New Shore, Russian River, 1997

India ink scratchboard painting/drawings from 1995-1997, The first drawing was from the Netherlands, ca. 1995? when Wim Hoffman stuck a blank white scratchboard in my hands and I drew his garden. I was enchanted. The last piece was of Wohler Road during the floods of 1996-1997.

Almost all the drawings were done in situ in Sonoma and Mendocino counties, a few were drawn at Idylwild. Some were modeled after other artists' work. We had a couple of record flood winters. I was housebound and stir-crazy and couldn't get out of Forestville, marooned due to the severity of the floods. It rained for 40 days!

During that time I was also working on a long prose poem, Building an Arc (1995), that kept on growing, so some of these pieces were used to illustrate it. I later had a show at the California Museum of Art at the Luther Burbank Center for the Arts, Santa Rosa, and another show and reading at The French Quarter, in Rohnert Park, where we used lines from the long poem under the artwork.

Branching Out: Poetry & Art with Maureen Hurley & Marsha Connell

BRANCHING OUT

Branching Out, is an exhibition of recent pastels, watercolors, & collages by Marsha Connell with poems by Maureen Hurley. Connell and Hurley have collaborated in their working processes both as artists and teachers. For example, Hurley wrote a series of poems to Connell’s collage prints, Dream Vessels. Some of them appear in the catalogue/book, Dream Vessels. Working as artists in residence since 1979, through Artists in the Schools of Sonoma County (ASC) and California Poets in the Schools (CPITS), they have led students in exploring the links between the visual arts and poetry. This Body is Ask: Art and Poetry by Sonoma County Students, co-edited by Connell and Hurley is a documentation of these experiences.

Connell, who is noted for her bold watercolors and pastels of Sonoma County and California, works on location, or from drawings done on location. Connell states her aesthetic concerns, “I begin with direct personal experience and observation to create lyrical abstractions with attention to color, shape, rhythm, and mood. In my recent pastels of barns and cabins, I’ve shifted focus from the organic aspects of landscape to the human-made elements that interrupt and define the landscape’s space and scale.”

Connell has shown in over 25 solo exhibitions, and nearly 100 group exhibitions on both coasts; her most recent solo exhibits were at the Badè Museum, Pacific School of Religion, Berkeley and the Buena Vista Winery Artist in Residence Project. She holds a Master of Arts Degree in Sculpture from San Francisco State University, and a Bachelor of Science Degree in Fine Arts from Skidmore College. Connell is an instructor of art at Santa Rosa Junior College and Sonoma State University and has been artist in residence for several Northern California schools. She also conducts workshops privately and for organizations including the Mendocino Art Center, Gualala Art Center and Elder Hostel.

Both Connell and Hurley are recipients of seven California Arts Council grants. Maureen Hurley is a visual artist and photojournalist as well as a poet. Her poems and photographs have appeared in over 100 magazines and journals. Her poetry has been translated and published in Dutch, Spanish, Russian, Romanian, and Ukrainian. She has won numerous state and national awards for her poems, including two Sonoma County Community Foundation/NEA writer’s fellowships in 1990 and 1992; the 1992 award was for the Dream Vessels series. A poem was nominated for the 1993 Pushcart Poetry Prize. Other awards include an honorable mention in the National Poetry Series competition and two awards for Dream Vessels Poems #1 and 2 . She was a semi-finalist in the 1993 Kalliope/Papiér Maché poetry contest, and a finalist in the 1994 Negative Capability poetry competition.

Hurley holds a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Art Studio from Sonoma State University. She is California Poets in the Schools Area Coordinator for Sonoma County, and has led workshops in public schools, mental institutions, universities and Elderhostels in California, the Netherlands, the Bahamas, and the former USSR. Hurley initiated and developed programs in which she and Connell exchanged student poetry and art with sister city, Cherkassy, in the Ukraine.

The California Museum of Art exhibition opens April 22 and continues through May 31, 1994. Hours: Monday through Friday, 9 AM to 5 PM.

Millard Sheets: Sixty Years of Painting, 9/3/93

—a retrospective, Sept. 10 through Oct. 24

A sixty-year retrospective of Millard’s Sheets paintings from the private collection of Ralph and Lois Stone is currently on display at the California Museum of Art at the Luther Burbank Center for the Arts.

Los Angeles born artist Millard Sheets, called the father of the California school of watercolor, lived a charmed life, winning numerous awards while still in school. Hatfield Galleries gave him the first one-man show while he was still at Chouinard School of Art in 1929; he also received a prize from the Edgar B. Davis competition in Texas. The $1750 prize allowed him to travel to New York and Paris via a banana boat through the Panama Canal; he was able to paint Central American scenes.

One painting in particular, “The Women of Cartegena,” was accepted at the prestigious International Exhibition of Paintings at the Carnegie institute in Pittsburg, and was pivotal in shaping his career; this acceptance opened east coast watercolor establishment doors to him and to other California artists.

In the ’30s, the representational style of watercolor painting was at its apex, but WWII ended that movement as American artists became influenced by the new style of abstract art in Europe. At the turn of the century, artists studied in Europe, where elaborate, carefully rendered pencil sketches were highlighted with watercolor, but California artists took an entirely different approach. They worked boldly and directly on the paper, often with little, or no preliminary sketches.

During the 1930s, their paintings became much larger. The California watercolorists’ fresh, bold regional views knocked the east coast establishment on its ear. Sheets, chief exponent of the California School of Watercolor, epitomized this bold new style.

This new California style, Synchronism, founded by Stanton McDonald Wright, utilized a highly stylized subject matter with abstract composition, and influenced Sheets and other artists. Their works were often featured on magazine covers, which made the style familiar to the general public.

Often hailed as a one-man renaissance, the internationally acclaimed artist Millard Sheets, worked in various styles. Some of his earliest works, from 1926 to 1936, including “Farm Near Lompoc,” “South Pomona Granary,” and “San Francisco Bay, Ship at Dock,” evoked the era of Social Realism, where 20th century industrial triumphs were viewed as works of art.

As I viewed the art exhibit, the experimental film “Metropolis” came to mind. When Sheets gave Eleanor Roosevelt a painting of tenements, which promptly was hung in the White House, (and is now at the Smithsonian), he was appointed as one the four directors to the Public Works of Arts which is best remembered for the huge WPA (Works Progress Administration) murals depicting regional America. This bold representational style helped to shape the imaginative eye of the public.

During the 1930s and ’40s, Sheets was one of the most recognized and influential artists who portrayed the California Scene. Though rooted in the rich color and emotional light of impressionism, Sheets often worked with a limited color palette; the more tonal modulations defined the forms in abstract shapes.

In the past few years there has been a renewed interest in the American representational art movement—especially the American regional scenes made popular during the WPA mural projects.

When he was painting “Farm Near Lompoc,” Sheets commented, “I was only just beginning to understand the subtle nuances of composition and design. The black cow was placed in a pretty important spot. I think it is a good example of the struggles that people who had not been accustomed to painting in watercolor, as we all were at the time, could try and find a composition and design in complicated rounded forms.”

Of the painting, “South Pomona Granary,” Sheets said, “I would go out to these little farms to try to learn the meaning of value—color as a related problem—to try and understand the way each color created other colors in the thing next to it.”

The painterly oil canvas, “West Los Angeles Wheatfields,” (1928), depicts a strong impressionistic influence with bold brush strokes but with a more subdued palette than, say, a Monet. Sheets' “Chino Dairy” (1935), is alive with brush strokes, the brilliant use of orange shadow befitting a hot southern light, and the ground itself writhes with heat.

In “West Los Angeles Wheatfields,” Sheets recorded a bygone era when Los Angeles was still a place of angels, “The grain fields started at Western Boulevard in Los Angeles and went right to the sea.…”

The large portrait of “Annabella,” a studio work, depicts many of Sheets’ favorite motifs and reflects back on his days in Tahiti. One can also see the influences of Gauguin in his other South Pacific landscapes.

Among my favorite pieces are his Mendocino coastlines, many done from his Barking Rocks studio in Gualala. "Fond Memories of Mendocino" with its olive green and vermilion/magenta sea and Chinese Ming style horses galloping on the bluffs avoids being a cliched riot of color notes.

Compositionally, his work is strong, with an underlying structure based upon sculptural and a liberal use of diagonal shapes that lead us to the heart of the painting. Sheets wrote of “‘Mendocino with Affection," "This painting expresses the mood of color that we get here on strange days when the sun is coming up or going down. It is everything that I like about the coast.”

Many of the pieces in the show are from another style, another era—a more careful study of light with liberal use of hard-edged shadow. When one begins to take apart elements of the pieces, one comes to the sudden realization is that they are very abstract—which comes as a surprise.

“French Alps, 1971,” along with “Evening Luau, Tahiti,” (1973), “Mendocino with Affection” (1987), and “Fish Rock Annual Fishing Contest” (1968) with their curvilinear lines and rounded abstract sculptural forms are both visually pleasing, yet challenging. These works best exemplify Sheets’ distinctive later style, reminiscent of Post-Impressionism—especially Gauguin’s South Sea scenes, and van Gogh’s South of France landscapes.

Of the simply painted “Church of Arles, France” (1970), with its muscular trees, Sheets commented, “This scene is one van Gogh knew…the trees are bare in winter and the atmosphere is very evocative. I thought about van Gogh, the man, while I was here.” A much earlier piece, “Ancient Church, Armenia” (1951), evokes a kindred connection to van Gogh’s work.

Sheets wrote of the small watercolor, “Kahili Valley” painted in 1934, “I made it during a period in my life when I was trying to figure out how to improve design elements of my work. This small painting is a bit static but I like its innocent charm…” Sheets had just returned from a visit to Central and South America; the painting strongly reflects the influence of that experience.

The collective body of Millard Sheets' paintings hang on the walls of some 45 museums in the US including the Smithsonian Gallery, Chicago Art Institute, the New York Museum of Modern Art, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Whitney Museum of American Art, and the Los Angeles County Museum. The California Museum of Art show from the private collection of Ralph and Lois Stone, brings together the varied themes of many of his works under one roof. Not to be missed.

SIDEBAR (some text is missing)

Born in 1907, Sheets died at the age of 82. His life included many events which influenced his work. Sheets was a war artist for the government and for Life magazine. He lived in Hawaii, Tahiti, and took artist all over the world to hone their craft. He received numerous honorary doctorates. He was Director of Art Scripps College, he was an instructor at Otis Art Institute, and Chouinard Art Institute where he influenced innumerable artists during his 40 years of teaching.

Sheets was also a renowned sculptor, and architectural designer, with over 100 buildings, murals and mosaics to his credit including public buildings, civic centers, universities, airports, hotels, malls, and hospitals. He designed over 40 Home Savings and Loan banks, and the Scottish Rite Temples in Los Angeles and San Francisco. 

Many of us may recall the bold tile mural at Waikiki’s Honolulu Hilton, and the murals at the Great Western Savings Bank, but few may know that the late Millard Sheets was the artist who designed them. In 1988, a year before his death, he received the coveted Dolphin Award from the American Watercolor Society.

© Maureen Hurley photos


California Museum of Art at the Luther Burbank Center, 50 Mark West Springs Road, 527-0297. There will be a gallery talk with David Stary-Sheets, son of Millard Sheets on Thurs. Sept 16 at 7 p.m.

The Western Sonoma County Paper, 9/3/93

(Alas, this is a facsimile of the original article as I don't have printed copy or tear sheet. This was from a damaged file and some text was lost. I am hoping a hard copy will resurface someday. Most of my clippings were lost during the Russian River floods of 1996.)

Making Things: Artist Raymond Barnhart 10/5/91

 Assemblages by Sebastopol Artist Raymond Barnhart

THE SUM OF ITS PARTS— Barnhart outside his Sebastopol work space with one of his "relief constructions," Consummation. "I want to please the work. I want it to please itself."
  

We asked the captain what course of action to take toward a beast so large, terrifying, and unpredictable. He hesitated to answer, and then said judiciously: "I think I shall praise it."   —Robert Hass, Praise

BY MAUREEN HURLEY

I recalled the twist on reality and an unexpected visit from poet Bob Hass' poem, Praise while viewing Sebastopol artist Raymond Barnhardt's latest exhibit, "Recent Constructions" at the California Museum of Art in Santa Rosa, California.

Because everyone's response to my queries about Raymond Barnhart and his work was the inevitable raised eyebrow, followed by an incredulous: "You mean you don't KNOW about Raymond Barnhart's illustrious career?" I gulped, and found that the best recourse was to praise it. Taking the beast by the horns—by asking Barnhart niggling details about his second career as an assemblage artist (painting was his first career) seemed sacreligiously inane and so unintelligent. Excuse me, your slip is showing...

And so, at a recent artist's lecture at the California Museum of Art (CMA), when the venerable artist himself was introduced by museum director Duane Jones as "Someone who needs no introduction," I thought, aww feck, the Chilean poet Pablo Neruda was right: "You can only ask questions and die." Luckily, the lecture was a quorum of questions ranging from "How do you name your art?" to "What kind of power tools do you use?" The questions were all answered by Barnhart, age 88, with such thoughtfulness, verve and wit, I was in love with love itself.

Artists know firsthand that one of the challenges in art and poetry is to create something that is profound, but with a sense of humor. One who can accomplish both—without lessening the impact of the statement—is a Master. Barnhart's elegant, formal masterful assemblages are intentionally playful, they delight the eye, they make you want to laugh. 

Conceptual artists make us look at ordinary things in a new way, they redefine our limited perameters of "definition." It comes down to rearranging concrete nouns into metaphor—Plato's nemesis. The metaphor of Picasso's bicycle seat and handlebars as a bull's skull. Man Ray's steam iron with nails, and Christo's running fence—all share that spirited kinship to challenge the senses and reality. How we see the world.

Face to Face Art Auction 9/16/91

Using art to help celebrate life




COMPASSION—A work by wood sculptor Bruce Johnson to be auctioned at Face to Face's annual Art For Life benefit Sept. 21 at The Friedman Center.


BY MAUREEN HURLEY

In 1988, stained-glass artist Laurence Evangelinos contacted Face to Face Sonoma County AIDS Network, the local agency dedicated to providing care and support for people with AIDS and ARC. "It is time to do something. I want to help," the Occidental artist told Face to Face Development Director Rick Dean. "The only thing I have to give is my art."

But she had an idea that she wasn't alone in the artist community, and Art For Life, one of the most successful art auction fundraisers in California, was born.

Over the last four years, the Sonoma County artists have responded in force to the Face to Face request for donations. Last year's auction exceeded projections of $25,000 and raised $37,000. This year more than 200 works of art valued at over $100,000 have been donated to the auction which will be held September 21 at The Friedman Center in Santa Rosa. One piece alone, donated by Timber Cove sculptor Bruce Johnson, is valued at $8000.

Among the contributors, visual artist and SRJC art instructor Marsha Connell of Santa Rosa sees the project as a natural endeavor for the community. "AIDS and the artist community overlap—and there are fewer resources available to us. We need to help our own community."

Guerneville printmaker Inge Laskowski says, "I feel it's a really important event for artists who can give something other than money. It's a gift of ourselves to contribute to the cause. The community takes an interest in that art, and with that interest, donates money to Face to Face. I can see the direct results of the benefit auction right here in my own community."

One complaint often made by artists about benefit auctions—that sponsors think little of asking artists for a donation as if somehow creating fine art was less of a livelihood than, say, plumbing—is curiously absent when discussing Art For Life.

A practical issue Connell raises is that "though a piece of art may be worth thousands of dollars, the artist is not allowed to take a tax credit for the charitable donation of a piece. The IRS allows artists to deduct only the cost of the materials." Since most artists have already deducted materials in their yearly tax returns, they usually receive no tax-break whatsoever. "However, if a business person or a gallery owner donates a piece of art, they can claim full value," explained Connell.

So when artists give their art for charitable causes, they usually receive no compensation. True philanthropy.

Though artists contributing to Art For Life are entitled to receive up to 2O percent of the sale price for their donated piece (which helps to recoup materials costs), framing a watercolor can run upwards of $400, a considerable out-of-pocket cost for the artist to absorb—most artists who donate work to the auction do not claim their 20 percent. According to Dean, less than a quarter of the artists ask for the payment.

Of course, artists also donate their work because ita lso gives them exposure. According to ceramicist Jeff Zigulis, "This auction is one of the premier art events in the Bay Area."

Zigulis, who is on the board of directors for the Sebastopol Center for the Arts, feels it's a feather in his cap to be asked to be involved in the auction. "Face to Face is a timely issue, it helps local people in the community. The ir auction is head and shoulders above the rest. It's number one."

Forestville wood sculptor Michael Costantini began as a volunteer at the first auction four years ago and helped organize the system with "flow-function logistics." Costantini explains, "The art auction is a very labor-intensive way for an organization to make money. The amount of energy expended for the return of profit is considered to be on the low end of the totem pole. And the auction is so successful, it's one of the biggest money-makers for Face to Face." The other major fundraiser, the Human Race, is held in May. Monthly pledge programs and state and county grants, make up the bulk of the organization's annual budget.

Costantini, who works primarily on commissioned pieces privately negotiated through Gump's, sees the donation of his art as a promotional venue as well as a philanthropic gesture. He says it's like having a new instant client.

"The auction gives exposure to worthwhile artists, and because it's invitational, it has prestige," says Laskowski. "It's important that all of us think about AIDS-most of us can't help out on a day-to-day basis. The auction is an outrageous success. A real social event, a who's who of the [local] art world."

After the art auction Dean will fly to Vancouver, B.C., to take the model to other AIDS agencies. One reason he thinks the auction is so successful is the extraordinary number of artists, restaurants, and wineries in Sonoma County. Several chefs, caterers, and wineries also contribute services and products to the event. "Sonoma," Dean says, "is a mecca."

Face to Face began as a grass-roots movement in 1984 with community members taking care of friends by providing home care, emotional support, and hospice services. Development Director Dean began at Face To Face four years ago as a volunteer. He had quit his job at retail sales, decided to volunteer, and loved working for the organization. When he began, the budget was $100,000. Today it exceeds $600,000 and requires a professional staff of 16 full- and half-time nurses, social workers, therapists, and educators. The volunteer base has swelled to 150.

The extra services are, unfortunately, tied to increased need. Recent statistics from the Sonoma County Public Health Department show 552 known AIDS cases since 1982,389 deaths, and an estimated 3,000 HIV-positive people. Seventy-eight new cases were reported during the first half of the year alone.

But county statistics don't accurately reflect the numbers of AIDS cases in the county, Dean says, because many people are diagnosed in San Francisco and other Bay Area communities, and then relocate to Sonoma County. "We have done miracles to still be in existence. We're one of the few agencies that does not have a waiting Iist. And the patients are not just men—women, children and whole families are on the roster," explains Dean.

"We now serve 400 patients a year, the highest caseload ever," notes Dean. "It's been a steady climb from just 35 people from four years ago."

Evangelinos continues to donate to the auction, this year a fused-glass sculpture. "Donating art has both political and social rarnifications—if you don't act on what you believe needs to be changed, or helped, you are guilty of leaving the status quo intact, she says. "Just standing on the sidelines isn't enough."

Works to be auctioned at Art for Life can be previewed in over a dozen community showcases, including the Quicksilver Mine Co. in Guerneville, Q Gallery and Sawyer's in Santa Rosa, Copperfield's in Sebastopol, and Hand Goods in Occidental. The auction itself will be held at the Friedman Center, 4676 Mayette Avenue, Santa Rosa, on Sept. 21. A silent auction will begin at 3.30 p.m. and a live auction will follow at 5. Tickets ($10) are available at the door. For more information, call Face to Face at 887-1581.

The West Sonoma County Paper, 9/16/91

Crafts for Craft's Sake 8/15/91

EXHIBIT CURATOR JEFF ZIGULIS at the kiln of his workshop in Sebastopol: 'The popularity and recognition of American Crafts has exploded."

BY MAUREEN HURLEY


The early '70s was the heyday of the current American crafts movement. But changing lifestyles and values, and a plethora of mediocre crafts, nearly killed it. We've all done time at numerous street fairs and crafts shows—and they keep coming back to haunt us: vintage resurrections are alive and well at the flea market, and village shops along the isolated North Coast in summer can be like a bad déja vu. I mean, who still has Aunt Em's beaded macrame frying-pan wall-hanging? How many ceramic Hobbit toothbruses weed potholders can one person admit to having owned?

Now the emphasis is on high-quality collectibles—objets d' art. This is the focus of the "Fine American Crafts by Sonoma County Artists" exhibit currently on display at the California Museum of Art (CMA) in Santa Rosa. The handicraft of 29 Sonoma County artists (the majority from West County) ranges from traditional wood crafts, clay, blown glass, textiles, dolls, and knives to jewelry and metal sculptures.

According to some artists and collectors, American crafts have made a real comeback, and have been transformed and elevated to the status of fine art. In the post-Darwinian fashion of the '80s, many craftspeople molted—got a haircut and a "real" job, while others tenaciously stuck it out, honing their survival skills by developing their craft into a fine-arts format.

Curator for this crafts show is nationally recognized ceramicist, Jeff Zigulis of Sebastopol. In his Artists' Statement, Zigulis tosses out a provocative idea: that with the growing popularity and recognition of American Craft over the last 15 years, the line between Art and Craft has blurred significantly." Zigulis, a former college instructor, juror, and "seasoned exhibitor" for the American Crafts Council, states that "the show will display how American crafts have evolved into a movement that merits acknowledgement by admirers and collectors alike." Certainly the show challenges set notions, as there is a wide variety of objects and styles ranging from pure craft to pure art to choose from.

Public response to the show has been varied. Some who come to the exhibit expecting to find bargains are surprised to find this isn't another crafts fair. Unfortunately, the term "arts and crafts" conjures up images of lace doilies, shell animals and trees and dried-bean picture frames. As Zigulis states, "People have a cheapened view of crafts."

He is very quick to point out the distinction between a crafts fair and a show. "The emphasis here is on the word 'fine' crafts. Many of these artists who became craftspeople are from a fine-arts background. These people are professionals making a living at their craft." A successful craftsperson, with the right marketing skills, exposure, and a little luck, can make up to $100,000 to $200,000 a year, according to Zigulis. Not exactly flea market wages.

Form follows function? During my salad-bowl days at College of Marin, I recall my pottery teacher, a corpulent Greek named Thano Johnson, wildly waving his arms in the air like a stuffed owl, booming the adage: "Form must follow function." He emphasized that "because every substance had integrity, one must both respect and honor the physical and aesthetic properties of the medium and the object." During raku (Japanese wood kiln) firings, he demonstrated the Art of Tea.

Form and function echoed through my mind like "Good and Plenty" commercials on TV. And so, as I viewed the exhibit, I found myself automatically muttering form follows function. This idea is attached to another, less defined idea, the blurred borderline between art and craft.

'Form follows function. Yeah, but there is no longer any function in pure form," Zigulis explains, citing an example of a teapot with a sealed lid used as a theme or a starting point which leaves us begging the question: Is it a teapot or a sculpture? "It's no longer functional. A kitchen knife transforms into a piece of sculpture. The lines are blurred. The definitions are blurred."

From this progression of ideas, the artist has the opportunity to grow and evolve. Ultimately, aesthetic judgement is in the eyes of the beholder, a more personal definition is needed. "You just kind of slide into that gray area," says Zigulis. laughing.

The dictionary doesn't shed much more light on the subject: a craftsperson (craft is an Anglo-Saxon word) is defined as someone who is cunning or skilled at a manual or mechanical trade-, an artificer, an artisan; also, sometimes called an anist.

On the other hand, a fine artist (art is a Latinate derivative) practices an art in which imagination and taste reside over the execution of the making of things for their own sake without relation to the utility of the objects produced.

In other words, art is for art's sake. Though the origins of craft are utilitarian, it approaches the realm of art on a more personal level.

Interestingly enough, the influential Bauhaus movement of the '20s and '30s. which played a vital role in the shaping of American and European crafts and industrial design, ventured away from pure function into streamlined form. Artisans designed experimental models that became industrial products.

However, in some cases, they got so carried away with form that it no longer followed function—as anyone who's sat too long in an uncomfortable Bauhaus chair can attest to. The Bauhaus movement, founded in Germany, had an enclave right here in West County: American Bauhaus West, so to speak.

The Bauhaus director, architect Walter Gropius, designed the Hexagon House in Guerneville as a studio space for artists and art students. One artist was internationally recognized potter Marguerite Wildenhain of Frog Pond Farm in Austin Park, who influenced several generations of potters including my former partner.

Meeting of the physical and the aesthetic, Sebastopol potter and teacher John Chambers' salt-fire glazed ceramic vessels with closed tops present an oxymoron: they're no longer practical as pots, and transgress into the realm of sculpture. At what point does a craftsman become an artist? When he calls his vessel a "Helmet Pot."

In contrast to Chambers' academic and understated ceramics, Bodega sculptor Michelle Morehouse's porcelain candelabras positively resonate and challenge the senses. "Candelabra for Kuwait" and" 100 Hours," with their powerful primary colors and motifs-barbed wire, dead doves, skulls, missiles, and candies stuck on cactus—are reminiscent of Mexican papier-maché altar pieces for El Día de los Muertos.

Patsy Chamberlain of Occidental incorporates yarn-bound twig pinches into her bird shrines, and I like the honest evidence of slab construction—textured clay. However, with the exception of the exquisite center shrine (which sold immediately), I wish she'd experimented more with other types of glazes and techniques to enhance the shrines—perhaps raku.

Gerald Hong's raku vessels, especially "Arch with Arrows," are exemplary models of form and function, demonstrating both physical and aesthetic integrity. As is Zigulis's vessel from his "Dancing Man Series." The surface of these vessels becomes a rich canvas for an idea. Both artists use underglazes, pencils, and stencils to work the surfaces. Technique doesn't interfere with overall aesthetic design. Zigulis often saggar-fires his pieces two or three times to achieve the results he desires.

Forestville artist Carla Bernstein's peeled willow chairs don't differ much from the age-old craft, other than burned and painted pictographs judiciously placed here and there. However, they're quite comfortable to sit in. Nice copper nails, too. She is new to the field; perhaps, with time, her work will evolve more.

Though we couldn't handle Karl Schroen's knives at the exhibit, it's reported that their balance is superb, they bless the hand. I lusted after sun-ripened Roma tomatoes and basil, just to whet the thirst of the blade. (Tomatoes, as any good chef knows, are the ultimate challenge to the quality and sharpness of a blade. However, I think Carl's blades are more carnivorously oriented.)

Healdsburg weaver Molly Hart, best known as a textile artist, successfully takes her soft craft of yarns to the hard realm of metal sculpture/ painting in "Genetic Memory." Her "found art" jewelry is composed of circuit breakers, screens, and switches.

Collaborative artists Robert and Joanne Herzog's stacking wooden jewelry boxes are more like shrines. Every square centimeter is carefully polished, decorated, or carved. Even the bottoms! "Analog" is supported on river stones of carved redwood. One loses a sense of scale with these pieces.

Chuck McLaughlin approaches the wood for his bowls the same way a sculptor unlocks secrets from a raw slab of marble by studying the possibilities it has to offer, and paying tribute to it. Among the results are a handsome big-leaf maple bowl, replete with original knothole, and a redwood burl bowl with lacy natural edges.

Brenda Rainson's coiled linen baskets are amazingly well executcd. "Transformation Journey," with lavender and green trees and dreamlike figures, conjures up images from our aboriginal past. Marilyn Radzat's large dolls have great costumes (the layered look), but I instantly recoiled at their too-beautiful faces, as it seems she can't bear to give them character or life.

Master craftsman Fred Cresswell of Cazadero's handblown glass pieces, with heavy Venetian cane designs and fumed glass, though technically beautiful, fluid, and well crafted, lack that distinction to challenge the cutting edge of glass art, while French-born Occidental artist Laurence Evangelinos's kiln slumped glass pieces are more arresting as wall pieces that just happen to double as platters—especially her untitled piece of blue glass with threaded black glass cane and blue squares.

Avant-garde. According to Zigulis, American crafts are in the forefront of the international crafts scene, with France, Australia, and Japan as close contenders. The American works are more avant garde—"pushing the inside of the envelope out," muses Zigulis. When asked what future trends might develop 15 years from now, the burly artist laughs and says, "I don't know. If I did, I'd be out there doing it, and not this exhibit!"

Though Zigulis is the curator, this thoughtful and well displayed show (there are over 100 pieces) is the brainchild of Duane Jones, CMA director. "I wanted to do a crafts show for a long time," says Jones. "We have many fine artists and craftspeople who have no venue to show their work in Sonoma County.

Last spring both Jones, who also lives in Sebastopol, and Zigulis were setting up for the Sebastopol Center for the Arts auction when Duane collared him late one night "with the help of a good bottle of cabernet," —well, the rest is history. No matter what your take on arts and crafts is, you'll find something at this show to stimulate your synapses. As Jones says: "We want people to argue about it."

"Fine American Crafts by Sonoma County Artists" is at the The California Museum of Art at the Luther Burbank Center in Santa Rosa through September 15. Exhibit hours are 11 a.m. to 4 p.m., Wednesday through Sunday. A free lecture by Jeff Zigulis will be on Thursday, Aug. 22. at 7 p.m. For more information, call the museum at 527-0297.

THE WEST SONOMA COUNTY PAPER - AUGUST I5- SEPTEMBER 4.1991 page 19

Duane Jones: Arts Activist/Sculptor

DUANE JONES, ARTS ACTIVIST/SCULPTOR

BY MAUREEN HURLEY

Duane Jones is a behind the scenes sort of guy when it comes to the viewing of art at myriad Bay Area benefit auctions and events, including the San Francisco Art Institute masterʼs Show, Sonoma Countyʼs annual Face to Face, Sebastopol Center for the Arts, etc.

Not only is he the one who made and installed all the panels and pedestals the art is displayed on, heʼs often an organizational sponsor, promoting and showcasing Sonoma County art on numerous platforms. In fact, the successful two-year-old Sebastopol Center for the Arts is his Athena—his brainchild.

Jones is also the director of the California Museum of Art at the Luther Burbank Center, and is responsible for securing eight major shows a year, and purchasing art for the museumʼs permanent collection (the 40-odd 1pieces are on display at the CMA until June 21).

But few know of Jones the sculptor. Jones who works primarily in paper pulp, cardboard, and found objects recently finished with an extensive shield project series. A long time ago, he sculpted in the lost wax bronze casting process. “The direction Iʼm going now is temples and habitats.”

Somewhat of a maverick, the 59-year-old Jones never attended arts school, nor received formal art training, but heʼs always considered himself a visual artist. He says his work is influenced by mentors and friends Raymond Barnhart and the late Paul Beattie; he gives some credit to the work of the masters Rodin and Giacometti.

Though Jones says he has not made a concerted effort to show his sculptures, his work may be viewed at the Bay Arts Gallery in San Francisco, and the Lawrence Gallery in Yountville. Some of his pieces were included at the Sonoma Arts Guild Shrine Show last month. He continues to donate major pieces to Face to Face, The Sebastopol Arts Center, and to local PBS station KRCB art auctions, and has been on the Art Trails open studio tour since its inception.

Born in East L.A., by the age of 17, Jones was a young father supporting a family, and working the swing shift at an aircraft carrier plant while attending school— studying photography. He dropped out of school, went into electronic sales, auto racing—(sports cars and formula cars at the Times Grand Prix, and the Riverside International Raceway against the likes of Phil Hill and Johnny Parsons), started a few successful businesses, but continued to sculpt on the side for pleasure.

In the ʻ60s, Jones worked with desktop size western bronzes in the style of Remington; “You know, that cowboy and Indian stuff. I tried not to make it trite; it was tongue-in-cheek, I didnʼt realize it was so popular. All I wanted was to work with the human gesture, and here I was using a magnifying glass with a loup to get the smile lines on the cowboyʼs faces just right. I needed to loosen up, and finally threw in the towel.”

He found that working with paper and cardboard was less constricting and offered the possibility to work in a larger format, which allowed him to “get caught up in the process, not the end product.” In 1976, the sculptor moved to Sebastopol, and became a builder, constructing houses for friends. Always the entrepreneur, he had a machine shop on the side—working on those foreign cars.

In 1980, tired of dirty fingernails, and wondering what to be when he grew up, he quit the business world for good, deciding it was all nonsense. He saw that the county “was pregnant ready to pop, and become a full-fledged arts scene. There was not much happening in the arts locally, yet I knew there were many good artists living here. Some knew how to market their work elsewhere but most didnʼt.”

Jones had a vision to promote local art, he founded the Bookstore Gallery which displayed museum quality one-man shows in Rohnert Park, and volunteered to help the Sebastopol Library to upgrade their annual arts shows. He also volunteered his time at the CMA, eventually creating a paid staff position as director of the fledgeling museum.

Besides displaying the work of nearly 250 artists last year, the community museum served an estimated 14,000 people. A lot of foot traffic for an out-of-the-way museum that barely saw 2,500 souls (artists included) when Jones came aboard in ʼ86.

In 1991, the CMA featured internationally renown local artists Morri Camhi, Frank Schueler, Judy North, Bill Morehouse, Raymond Barnhart, Charles Churchill, and others. The Sonoma Fine Crafts exhibit featured 22 artists, The Celebrate Sonoma permanent collection represented 20 artists, and at the California Small Works show Jones displayed 229 works from 189 artists (out of 679 entries from across the state).

Jones persevered even when the museumʼs future looked pretty bleak.“Sometimes it was just me fighting for the arts, why? Because I decided I was going to devote my life to the arts. Itʼs a magic county we live in, in that there are a lot of fine artists here who are not recognized in their own back yard. Iʼm a salesman. I know about merchandising, organizing, and marketing from working in the business world. Itʼs easy to show art, I said to the disbelievers letʼs just do it, and make it look professional.” His proof of success? The long list of thriving art galleries (40+) in Sonoma County,

and the steady stream of collectors who come to arts events and galleries to purchase local art. Jones says the county has become more sophistocated. He uses the museum exhibits to educate people—to expose them to the arts, and to give local artists high calibre opportunities to show their work.

Jones also attributes the museumʼs success to the broad-based community support. He is an advocate for accessible, not elitist, or academic art: “A museum is a community, not just for artists, but for the general public to enjoy. California contemporary art is exciting, itʼs accessable; thereʼs a history that needs to be recorded.”

Speaking of history, Jones would be happier of some of his earliest attempts at sculpture would just quietly rest in pieces. Jones whoʼd rather be remembered by his biodegradable paper pieces, disparagingly quips as if the cowboys and Indians were gaining on him: “There are still a lot of my bronzes of mine out there. A beginning artist probably shouldn't make bronzes because they last forever.”

He doesn't quite know what to make of aesthetics of the thief who stole two of his western  pieces from the Christopher Queen Gallery display window one night. . . “You know, itʼs ironic, I hate horses. Give me a motorcycle any day; it doesnʼt bite or need to be rubbed down. You can ride it hard, put it away wet, and itʼs OK. ”

ca 1991, 1992—when?  May?

Teaching Stones to Speak 5/10/91

"The Stone Series"

Paintings of William Morehouse

William Morehouse in his Bodega studio. On the left is "Broadgar Energy," one of the works in "The Stone Series" on view at the California Museum of Art.

BY MAUREEN HURLEY

RECENTLY A BULGARIAN POET handed me a conundrum: a hollow river stone with a smaller stone trapped inside—a talking stone. This reminded me of my Irish grandmother, who told me stones could speak even on this side of the world. Steeped in the Celtic mysteries, she relied on the megalithic limestone outcropping at the crest of a nearby hill to note the solstices. I was encouraged to spend time listening to the rock, and to measure the speed of shadows, but I gathered inconclusive evidence as to the shape of time, and the translation of the mute attestation of stones.

I was faced with a similar conundrum upon viewing William Morehouse's "The Stone Series" at the California Museum of Art at the Luther Burbank Center. I found myself seeking a decoding process to solve the riddle, but what was the mystery?

A resident of Bodega, Morehouse is a mature, established artist with an impressive track record; his works are represented in over 20 public and private collections, including the Whitney Museum of Art in New York, the Smithsonian Institution 'in Washington, and the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.

His artistic career spans 42 years and hundreds of exhibitions. The 62-year-old San Francisco native studied at the California School of Fine Arts, the California College of Arts and Crafts, and the San Francisco Art Institute; he received his master's degree from San Francisco State University. He taught at the San Francisco Art Institute from 1958 to 1967, and since 1967, he's been at Sonoma State University, where he is a full professor.

The CMA exhibit—25 painted ceramic sculptures, oil paintings, and pastels—were thematically inspired by "the mystery of Celtic monuments" Morehouse visited during a 1985 trip to over 80 megalithic sites of Wales, northern Scotland, the Hebrides and the Orkney Isands, Morehouse says his journey to the megalithic stones began in Soho, New York, one hot August night in 1985 when the loft where he was staying was too hot to sleep and so, within 24 hours, he was headed for the London fog to cool his heels.

Morehouse made the obligatory pilgrimage to Stonehenge, but the thundering hordes and the fence surrounding the ancient monument were discouraging; the magic was gone. He stumbled upon more sites in Wales and Scotland, which he describes as a "delicious adventure" enhanced by "two bottles of single-malt whiskey in the boot of the car," and these burial cairns, cromlechs and dolmens seemed to speak more succinctly to Morehouse than did the incarcerated Stonehenge.

Morehouse says his "Stone Series" pieces, executed after returning to New York and California, are not based on precise visual presences of the stones as much as they are recollections of those experiences, both visual and sentient. He describes the central theme of the series as "the mysterious and unknown nature of these monuments . . . meditations on, and subjective responses to, the kind of energy, spirit, and evocative qualities I experienced while visiting the sites."

ONE OF THE MORE interesting elements of the CMA exhibit is to see Morehouse's stone theme executed in three difterent mediums: ceramic, oil, and pastel. At first glance, many of the raw, opaque paintings have an inaccessible quality similar to that of the megalithic stones they represent, while the three pastels retain a lyrical depth and quality that enhance the sense of mystery.

"Spirit and Sentinels—Caallanish" contains a wonderful spiraling energy. And the green ropes of "Spirit Dance and Stone" float in a darker mystery. The "Witches' Stone, Callanish: Study for Paintings" is phallic, but that shouldn't come as a surprise because that's what the stone represents to begin with." The diminutive megalithic sculptures in the center of the room are strangely comforting.

One of the largest paintings in the exhibit, the spermetic "Dark Cairn Metamorphosis," retains some of the fertile mystery of the pastel pieces. "Callanish: Isle of Lewis, Hebrides" has a nice juxtaposition of organic line and shape, as does. "Cairn—Wales: Spirals in the Burial Chamber." The contemporary painted red line becomes a rich punctuation mark against the magic ancient calligraphic spirals.

Another marking, or "thought gesture," most notably on "Energy Form Gesture II," looks almost Sanskrit in origin—recalling our Indo-European origins. However, the unsettling green palette of "Stenness" and the orange flame of "High Ambition" literally drove me from the room to seek escape from this two-dimensional reality of pyrotechnics. I cautiously reentered, shielding my eyes from these Plutonic wonders in order to spend some quality time with the more contemplative pieces.

My first reaction to the "Stone Series" was that Morehouse, while apparently trying to get closer to the mystery, had made it more opaque. This is a painter who is capable of throwing light into the meeting of mountains, but can he clear the stone place for a rough magic to form? Magic is a finicky muse. By naming it, one can destroy it. Since first impressions come too easy, after much deliberation, I came back to my primary conclusion: these paintings are filled with a mysterious raw kinetic energy—more Plutonic than Celtic.

But they feel new and unfinished; the composition is good, but for the most part, the palette is unsettling. Morehouse's thoughts rush toward full-blown combustion; there is little for the viewer to absorb and contemplate. I wish his works contained more of the sublime magic of the megalithic stones. Morehouse's paintings are filled with thought, perhaps too much so. And I think the art itself suffers for it, because the paintings, though bright, don't necessarily shed light.

A child's first marking—which may represent the beginnings of thought processes—are akin to Morehouse's symbolism, but a child's markings are transparent and tenative, there's the feel of paper (or the wall) beneath the mark, while Moorehouse's remain shrouded. Ironically, Morehouse says that in the "Stone Series" he was seeking a more lyrical, spiritual quality, moving towards less deliberate image-making, less control. He was seeking a sense of energy, calling his works essays of the spiritual language, subliminal thoughts, forms intuitively arrived at, symbols of power in a land steeped in legend.

During an artist's lecture at CMA, Morehouse presented slides of the paintings juxtaposed against the megalithic sites he documented, which was a real visual treat. Some of the pieces not in the show made more sense than the selected canvasses. Perhaps the show should have been expanded to include more paintings and pastels.

TECHNICALLY, THE DRYNESS of the painted surfaces in the "Stone Series"—akin to the creechy feeling of fingernails on chalkboard—had my skin crawling. Morehouse is an excellent draftsman and painter, and by comparison, his plein air paintings recently on view at the J. Noblett Gallery in Boyes Hot Springs, were juicy and luscious. (That exhibit, "Open Air Paintings," features, in addition to the recent work of Morehouse, and four other West County painters—Tony King, Wilder Bentley, William Wheeler, and John Stuppin—the "must see" exhibit recently moved to Dominican College in San Rafael.)

During my visit to the J. Noblett Gallery, two Morehouse paintings in particular stood out: "West from Poff Ranch" with its post-impressionistic cypress writhing in the wind, and his fluidly juicy "North from Armstrong Woods," an edible landscape redolent wiih succulent color. My faith in Morehouse's painterly ability restored, I was again faced with the dilemma of making sense of his "Stone Series."

Morehouse's palette makes sense out-of-doors. In this context. I thought fleetingly of Mark Rothhko's work, and wished the room, the paintings, or both, were much, much larger. As it turns out, Clyfford Still, Mark Rothko and abstract expressionism generally have had a major influence on Morehouse's work, but Rothko's paintings are sophisticated 20th century civilized interiors, sheets of colors that float above the surface of the canvas, while Morehouse has taken on the primitive pagan landscape. He's tried to contain it, and caged it like Stonehenge itself.

The Scottish "Stone Series" can be seen at the California Museum of Art at Luther Burbank Center through May 26. Regular museum hours are Wednesday through Sunday a.m. to 4 p.m. Admission is free. For more information, caII 527-0297.
Concurrent with the Morehouse exhibit, the CMA is featuring another show, "Guardians of Myths and Legends," comprised of 29 raku-fired ceramic helmets, shields and breastplates by Torrance artist Max Fuller. A great double barrel treat.

The Western Sonoma County Paper, ca. 5/10/1991

William Paul Morehouse
1929 - 1993

Note Bene: Bill Morehouse was one of my painting teachers at Sonoma State University, but at that time (late 1970s) there was no art department, not like today. The entire art department was crammed in the basement of Darwin Hall. We were literally below ground level. Our transom windows framed the ankles of passers-by. I had a ceramics class and a painting class in Darwin Hall—with no facilities, no potter's wheels, no kilns, no place to paint, no storage lockers—nothing. It was strictly whatever you could carry on your back. Needless to say, we got very little art done that year. It was a real bummer all the way around.

Mark West Student Art Show at the California Museum of Art