New Artist Spotlight: Jonathan Fuentes

by Taylor Freeman and London Wright, Bloomberg Arts Interns and Seniors at Duke Ellington School of the Arts

Jonathan Fuentes has always been drawn to the natural world. His fascination with animals easily found its way into his artwork, where the animal representations became stand-ins for people. Exaggerating these human characteristics through animal imagery gives his work a playful and insightful quality.

His journey into college as a primary medium began somewhat unexpectedly: while taking a printmaking class, he was drawn to the freedom of assembling pieces from scraps rather than following rigid techniques. His background in design also strongly influences his work. A graduate of the University of the District of Columbia, Fuentes credits the support and encouragement from the faculty played a crucial role in his development as an artist—helping develop his technique and work to find and secure opportunities.

Fuentes’ process often starts with cutting out interesting shapes from magazines and arranging them intuitively until a concept emerges. Only then does he begin gluing—letting the composition and tone evolve organically. Working primarily on a base of cardboard (canvas has always felt restrictive to him), Fuentes prefers to use common and easily obtainable materials such as gift wraps, bags, and shiny tape. Lately, he has been incorporating papier-mâché alongside cardboard to create versatile 3D sculptures. He even wore a sculptural hat he made to the opening reception of the New Artist Spotlight!

Looking ahead, his goals are clear. He wants to exhibit in more galleries, create larger work, and increase his connections with collectors. Fuentes remains committed to exploring new methods, breaking boundaries, and maintaining the playful essence that defines his work.

New Artist Spotlight: Sue Canuteson

by Taylor Freeman and London Wright, Bloomberg Arts Interns and Seniors at Duke Ellington School of the Arts

Sue Canuteson doesn’t plan her paintings. She lets them unfold naturally, using a call-and-response approach as she layers warm, earthy-toned brushstrokes with a wet-on-wet technique. Her work often utilizes the same color palette—prioritizing line and shape. Inspired by the mark-making and patterns found in African art, she is drawn to its coloration, style, and overall feeling. In her own work, she aims to obliterate all literal elements; encouraging viewers to experience the work freely. 

Canuteson has always loved art and art history, but she initially pursued a career in marketing and communications. Even then, she found herself drawn to the visual side of things; she became well-versed in typography, layouts, and the use of negative space. After a successful career—including nearly a decade as the editor of a clinical publication—she retired in 2015, giving her the opportunity to fully explore her creative side.

She started with collage, painting her own papers for mixed-media compositions. In 2016, while training to be a museum docent, Canuteson stumbled across a YouTube video of an abstract artist making bold, gestural marks on a canvas. To her surprise, she started crying—a reaction she didn’t fully understand at the time. It wasn’t until she began painting herself that she realized what had happened. Her subconscious had needed this form of expression all along.

By 2018, she took her first painting class, marking the true beginning of her artistic journey. Since then, she has refined her practice, while keeping her process deeply intuitive.

One of Canuteson’s favorite aspects of being an artist is watching visitors stop, linger, and become puzzled with her pieces. She believes that people often try too hard to analyze abstract art when, in reality, it doesn’t need to be explained. “The great thing about abstraction,” she says, “is that it doesn't need to be understood in a literal sense. It’s about feeling.” For her, art is an emotional experience rather than something that must be interpreted in a specific way.

As she moves forward, her goal is to allow more of the unknown to come through in her paintings. She wants to push past her natural inclination toward structure and embrace spontaneity, letting the work evolve organically. Canuteson’s advice to other emerging artists is to “Continue to do what resonates with you and evolve that way.”

New Artist Spotlight: Jazz Williams

Jazz Williams is a fine arts trained mixed media artist specializing in portraiture and fiber. Williams creates Afro-Fantasy paintings using dyed fabric, oil paints, and elements of collage. She creates fantastic compositions in natural settings, incorporating her own mythology to portray the many experiences of Black women and femmes navigating the world.

In the following interview she speaks about her art and process with Touchstone intern Charmaine Mapp (a senior at George Mason University).

Charmaine Mapp: You use a lot of natural elements in your work from incorporating plants and animals to using fabrics and dyes. How would you describe your relationship with nature?

Jazz Williams: As far as my relationship with nature is concerned, it’s probably not as well acquainted as some would expect. I do have a real love for nature as an aesthetic but when it comes to feeling connected to nature, I mainly use nature for a sense of place. Within my work, I use plants and animals from the East Coast, mainly the DMV, but sometimes all the way down to Florida because that’s another homebase of mine. [Nature] is something I use to feel grounded. I was really drawn to media and TV shows that use the concept of being “lost in the woods” as a premise. Coming-of-age always comes with a sense of feeling lost.

CM: What initially drew you to using fabric as your primary media?

JW: It was introduced to me through my art schooling. I’ve been in art school since middle school, so as I get older, I am getting more of a fine arts standpoint when it comes to work. I took up fibers because I wanted to try something new. I realized that I had so much experience under my belt in drawing and painting that I needed to put something else into [my art] to make it feel real. I started using fibers and dying things because MICA (Maryland Institute College of Art) has an amazing fibers program that goes in all different directions. I was really drawn to dying fabrics and it made me start thinking about the actual material I was using to dye. I figured once I started buying lightweight canvas and processing it in different ways, I could change my way of image making and make my painting process something a lot deeper. The fun actually starts when I get to dying canvases and at some point, I figure out what I want to put on top [of it]. [Using fibers] is just something I do to break up the monotony of painting. It’s a good way to let loose and not feel so controlled by my medium.

CM: Animals and women are recurring subjects in your artwork. How do you decide what animal best suits the story you are trying to tell?

JW: I’ve always had this invisible narrative within my work where its Black women or Black femmes that are lost in the wilderness, finding their way out, or figuring out ways of survival, but not in such a literal sense. I’m drawn to the idea of coming-of-age and learning a lesson within yourself. That’s a deep spiritual image to make and there are a lot of different directions you can go with that. I start by using different poses and contexts then try to figure out what animal captures that moment well.

CM: Do you use in-person models as reference for your portraiture?

JW: I use reference photos. I really love archives, looking at older types of media, especially photography and drawing poses from them. I am also drawn to Black photography, more so photography in pop culture, like things we see from celebrities. Images that evoke some sort of sensationalism. I’m really drawn to those sparkly, beautiful images and how provocative those images could be. I have a folder in my phone with photos spanning from the 1950s or 1960s, images of newspaper clippings or even an old picture of Destiny’s Child. I never use the faces because I don’t want that person to be associated with the actual message of the portrait. I don’t want to use people so literally. I want [my work] to be more relatable.

CM: In “Rot and Refuge (River Run-Off)” there are many visible elements of collage. Could you tell me more about this piece?

JW: I was getting experimental with that collage. When I started working in fibers, I had made my first dyed canvas piece and then I started thinking about how I could use fabric as a means of image and collage. I was looking for nontraditional ways of creating a canvas. That piece was built out of nine squares of colored cardstock that I collaged over with different sets of papers until it made some weird environment. I was really thinking about that Black coming-of-age. [In 2023] I was looking through old newspapers from 2020. It was a turbulent time, such an insincere time that came with a feeling of unrest. So, I had those images in the background for a reason. I made sure that they were something [the figure] was trying to look away from. You don’t always have to pay attention to all of the unrest in the world and think about how hard it is to survive, but rather just try to figure things out for yourself. That’s why it’s called River Run-Off, she (the figure) is running off to the river instead of having to deal with the rot and refuge of the world.

CM: Although your work is very stylistically realistic, there is a fantastical component to their compositions. Do you draw on any mythology to create your narratives?

JW: Yes, to a degree. Every animal and subculture, especially in nature, has its own stories. I was thinking about those kinds of narratives, but in terms of actual mythology, I feel like I create my own. I’m using animals that people would see on a daily basis but using whatever they symbolize as a story within the piece. I like to create my own narrative, my own kind of mythology.

CM: Is there a political element to the way you depict women in your art, perhaps making commentary on the objectification of Black women or portraying a reclamation of female sexuality as a form of empowerment?

JW: I would say a mix of yes and no. I’ve always liked provocative poses and clothing, but I was mainly focused on decentering the political element of Black portraiture. I felt like every time I made a painting it had to be a profound [statement on identity], but I wasn’t trying to do that. I just wanted to paint and make it so that we had these interesting, glamorous and over the top portraits of Black femmes. At some point [politics] became more of a conversation. I always talk about Mickalene Thomas because her work speaks volumes, painting Black femmes in a crazy, beautiful, and almost abstract light. I want [my work] to be an homage to the beauty standard and the vibe people get when they see and admire Black women versus the monolith that could be Black culture. Everything I use is a call back to what I’m seeing in the media. So that’s where my portraying of women comes from but “Whether or not it’s political?” “Yes and no.” Naturally, yes [my art] comes with that political statement but I wasn’t going for that initially.

CM: Are you interested in exploring anything new in terms of creating a different narrative?

JW: I have been driving myself more towards sisterhood and a sense of community. I usually portray a single figure. She’s in a strong pose or bonding with an animal but it seems so singular. I didn’t like the idea that being a Black woman meant being alone, though at some points [it does]. At some point I started thinking about what it means for the Black femme experience to be enjoyable, something that everyone can relate to. That sense of community, friendship, and love is something that I cherish in my life. More recently, there has been a shift in my work with joyful depictions of a Black femme or more than one.

CM: How would you define your art in a word or phrase?

JW: Fantastical. That’s what I try to go for. Something that is larger than life in more ways than one and tells a weird, folkloric story about the Black femme experience.

New Artist Spotlight: Yoshiko Ratliff

by Jasmine Hall, UMD Senior and Touchstone Intern

In Yoshiko Ratliff’s artwork, there exists both culture and beauty.

In her two styles, which she works on simultaneously, Ratliff explores themes of culture and nature. The first, centered around her experience being born and raised in Japan, is inspired by traditional Japanese textiles and figures. Frequently depicted are kimonos, armor, and floral patterns often associated with Japanese dress.

One work, entitled, Shōgun, is an incredibly detailed piece, with complex patterns and designs covering the figure from head to toe. These works are acrylic paint on wood panels, regularly accompanied by details of 24 karat gold leaf to add to the dimension of luxury within the image.

However, the beauty of this work wasn’t attained with ease. As hinted by the amount of fine lines and intricacies, the paintings from the Japan series are incredibly time consuming. Ratliff describes Shōgun as potentially the most difficult work she’s created. This challenge seems well worth it, as the detail was so convincing to viewers that audiences didn’t believe it was paint.

“They said ‘No, it’s mixed media. You’re using fabric!’” Ratliff remembers. “It was difficult—took a long time.”

The second of her two approaches acts as a break from this consuming level of detail, often consisting of natural subjects that are more abstract and out of scale. It’s this time away from complex, textile-inspired detail that enables Ratliff to have more freedom and to explore her interests.

“I have an obsession with microphotography,” Ratliff confesses. “Especially crystals, frost, ice, and snowflakes.” These unique textures found within up-close nature photography greatly inspire Ratliff’s work, finding its way into her work throughout its various layers and stages. “I often use these shapes and patterns for underpaintings,” she says. “Or as part of the final painting.” Ratliff uses her art to fondly reflect on her background, while also allowing it to act as a distraction.

During the pandemic, Ratliff’s mother tragically passed away from illness. Due to restrictions at the time, Ratliff was unable to see her in the hospital, undoubtedly adding to the difficulty of this loss. Her floral series works to commemorate her mother’s memory, bringing beauty to a painful subject. Sunflowers were her mother’s favorite. The bright, vibrant colors of the flowers she paints add joy to an otherwise dark time of lockdown.In 2021, in the midst of working on her floral series, Ratliff noticed the seemingly endless number of cicadas on the sidewalks, their transparent wings visible amongst the crowd of insect bodies.

“They were beautiful,” she reflects. After washing and drying these found cicada wings, Ratliff incorporated them into her artwork. “I used those wings on bees and dragonflies for my floral paintings…I have to honor their short lives.” One of her primary goals in her artistic creation is to help other people through paintings. If seeing her work is able to help someone forget their difficult situation, even for just a moment, Ratfliff would be very happy.

“I believe that art is therapy,” she states. For Ratliff, art is her way of forgetting her hardships. By allowing her to commemorate her mother and highlighting the beauty of her culture, painting gives Ratliff freedom.

New Artist Spotlight: Carolyn Marshall Wright

by Jasmine Hall, UMD Senior and Touchstone Intern

Carolyn Marshall Wright’s art is nothing if not brightly expressive. Her various styles, seen through watercolor and acrylic paint, strike the tenuous balance between realism and abstraction.

“If it’s too easy, I’m not content,” Wright states. She’s determined to challenge herself in her process, adding shapes and marks to make a piece more complex. Despite her high level of skill with realism in both still life and landscapes, Wright pushes herself to see things more geometrically. By using visible brushstrokes and angular forms, often with a highly saturated color palette, Wright transmits her emotions and unique perceptions of what she sees. In doing so, she challenges both herself and the viewer into looking at commonplace objects with a different lens.

“I love to watch the way light hits things,” Wright says. “It’s inspiring to see the difference that it makes and I like to bring that in.” Wright’s painting style relies heavily on her intuition, allowing instinct to decide when to be controlled and when to be more spontaneous with her brushwork. She believes strongly in the need for artists to create art that flows for them, finding direction from what brings them joy.

Wright recounts her experience seeing Pablo Picasso's religious paintings in Barcelona, noting how different his early works of exemplary realism felt in comparison to his famed cubism pieces. “You can tell there’s an emptiness there,” she says of Picasso’s early religious work. “Where did his real masterpieces come [from]? When he broke out of all of that.” Art has always been an important part of Wright’s identity.

As the fifth of six kids, she felt a need to find her own path instead of following in her siblings’ footsteps. Two of her older siblings were already in pursuit of artistic careers, which, in Wright’s mind, made it off limits. However, the love for creating stuck with her, finally taking root when she committed herself to making an original watercolor painting for her home. After numerous art studio classes and hours upon hours of committing to her craft, Wright secured her place as a watercolorist.

Now based in McLean, Virginia, she is a Signature Member of the Virginia Watercolor Society and a past president of Potomac Valley Watercolorists. Wright has also been teaching art for the past 15 years.

Wright maintains a balance of creating art with a clear image and pieces without a detectable subject. Her landscapes combine approaches to the abstract expressionist movement, using elements seen in works by Mark Rothko and Richard Diebenkorn. Her still lifes, more clear in their content, don’t limit themselves to the bounds of reality.“The impact of other artists is really important in terms of my inspiration,” Wright admits.

There is currently a new exhibition on the horizon for Wright. She’s in the process of preparing an entire collection of still lifes in her style of expressive, gestural abstraction. This series continues her focus on mundane objects basking in strong natural lighting.

“I’m paying a lot of attention to my own window sills, the plants on the window sills, and the way the light is.” It’s this level of attention, observation with added elements of visual intrigue, that make Wright’s paintings so captivating. Wright shares how excited she is to be a part of Touchstone Gallery, anticipating the joy of the gallery’s community and its positive impact on her art career.

New Artist Spotlight: Deb Furey

by Jasmine Hall, UMD Senior and Touchstone Intern

For Deb Furey, conversation is a requirement for the painting process.

“It’s really important that the work speaks back to me–somewhat of an interplay–back and forth–when I am working,” she states.

Furey, a mixed media painter, strikes a balance of realism and abstraction, as seen in her two concurrent styles. The first utilizes photography and collage with a combination paint media, while the second consists of large-scale, high contrast charcoal drawings of characters presenting various symbols of life and time. There is a spontaneity to Furey’s work, with many of her paintings being made in a short amount of time, without much pressure for realism. In Furey’s experience, focusing on hyperrealism often reduces the excitement and creativity for her.

“I am keenly interested in juxtaposing images, patterns–real-world and imaginary–to evoke emotions and moments in time,” she notes. “I also try very hard to listen to my own voice and not edit based on external expectations.”

Reaching this level of self-understanding in her process was not a short journey. Furey began her career as an artist at a young age. Once she displayed interest in painting and drawing, her mother put her in art lessons, enabling her to be in art shows and sell her first painting. Through many moves in high school, Furey found herself in Connecticut during her Junior year, studying under a local artist. This led to a residency that summer, which guided Furey to pursue art school for college.

After getting into prestigious art schools such as RISD and Pratt, Furey settled on Massachusetts College of Art and Design. For her two years at Mass Art, Furey studied interrelated media, which included video, sound, and other digital media tools. “Somewhere, in the midst of all that, I realized I needed to learn more about life and other educational pursuits before I had a point of view–a sense of what I wanted to say in my art,” she says.

This revelation led Furey to put her traditional artistic education on hold to develop a career in software development and animation. Furey began painting again in her late twenties, thoughdue to work and raising kids, she didn’t get involved in the gallery space until recently. Now, she’s driven to keep her art production steady.

“I paint a few days a week pretty consistently.” Furey states that sharing her artwork only adds to the enjoyment of painting. “I like to show it and I like to get people’s reaction.”

These audience reactions further contribute to the meaning of Furey’s work, with her semi-abstract characters only becoming more impactful with new interpretations placed upon them. Furey’s work incorporates cardboard, oil paint, and collage to create expressive scenes filled with dynamic figures. These bodies, often faceless and purposefully androgynous, allow for the freedom of Furey’s artistic process. It also makes much of her compositions open to interpretation, due to their lack of specificity.

“It’s a mirror in a way,” Furey states. “And if they work well, the pieces are evoking something in themselves.”

There is a power to this lack of gender in her figures. It’s an intentional disregard for binaries of gender, as well as binaries of time. These characters are dressed in clothing of a different historical period, many of them wearing crowns, ruffle collars, and holding scepters. There are no labels or boundaries to her figures, which adds to Furey’s artistic exploration. “I’m really interested in humans as humans and not girls and boys.”

Both of Furey’s styles, despite their differences, remain tied together in their spontaneous approach and how they act as a study of humanity. Furey only continues to expand on her existing work, aiming to create bigger and better visual experiences and depictions of her unusual ideas. It’s this spontaneity in life and in her practice that enables Furey to create the evocative artwork that engages her viewers.

New Artist Spotlight: Brittany Mona'

Brittany Moná is a DC-born and Maryland-based abstract mixed media artist.  They draw inspiration from familial experiences, African ancestry, and graffiti artists. Moná incorporates traditional African motifs and objects unique to African American culture into their art to create representation for the Black community.

In the following interview she speaks about her art and process with Touchstone intern Charmaine Mapp (a senior at George Mason University).

Charmaine Mapp: As a self-taught artist, what drew you toward pursuing art? How did you develop your style?

Brittany Mona: I’ve always been interested in the arts. My first love was and is theater and poetry. During the pandemic, my friend was cleaning out their house and offered me some art supplies which I took out of curiosity and started using it as an outlet. I was never interested in pursuing art as a career, I was just playing with abstract styles. My inspiration has always been traditional African art and graffiti. One of my youth mentors had expressed interest in my art and through her, my work was included in an exhibit. It was more like art found me. A lot of Black women and community uplifted me and encouraged me; they saw me when I didn’t see myself, and I held onto that.

CM: You have spent years working closely with children teaching them about art and experiencing first-hand the power of unrestricted imagination. What aspects of your art are inspired by what kids have taught you about yourself?

BM: I taught during the pandemic and stopped teaching in 2022 when I decided to pursue art. I was a Pre-K 3 teacher for about eight or nine years, and it was a great time. I learned a lot from them about just being myself. [Kids] are very much open to learning things which I appreciate. The openness they have to learn and receive, to challenge and question was probably my greatest lesson working with them.

CM: On your website, you have a quote, “Art doesn’t have to look a specific way; it just has to be created.” Is this philosophy part of the reason you were drawn to abstraction?

BM: When I first started there was a little bit of imposter syndrome. I just needed a reminder that starting somewhere is better than not starting at all. Although I was terrified of being vulnerable, I just needed to create because [my art] won’t transform, it won’t expand, it won’t change, it won’t grow if I don’t do it at all.

CM: Multiplicity of meaning and visual abstraction are key characteristics of African art that are reflected in your work. Are there symbols in your art that you would like audiences to notice and understand?

BM: There’s a lot of repetitive lines in my work. I use them for two reasons. Majority of the time, my work is also connected to African spirituality, so if there are lines, it usually represents the past, present, and future. For me it’s very important to acknowledge where I’m at, my ancestors who allow me to be where I am now, and make sure that I continue to create and make space for those who will come after me. I also just think it’s visually cool to put accents on different areas that I think are beautiful. I love big lips; big noses; I love very rich, deep skin. To me those things are beautiful.

I also use a lot of dots in my work which symbolize connection. We are all connected even though our stance in Blackness is very different. That is always a reminder to make sure that I work towards incorporating folks who I may not have incorporated in my work before, and make sure that everyone within the diaspora can be seen.

CM: “Made by Black” directly addresses a word included in your art. Could you tell me more about your signature? What is your intention when signing art with the name “Black” and what is the lasting impact you hope it has on your viewers?

BM: I got the [Black] tag inspiration from graffiti artists. Because my art fluctuates a lot in style, I wanted folks to recognize my work. I like the idea of the word Black being very bold (sometimes it’s subtle) and in-your-face on a piece especially if it doesn’t need to be. I’m creating so people can live as loud, open, and free as possible. Stamping Black all over my pieces kind of represents that. I also didn’t want my more abstract work to be watered down in any way. Sometimes a piece looks great without [the tag] but I still add it. I always get the question “Why?” And my question is “Why not?”

CM: The Black experience is impossible to describe in definitive terms. Considering the multifaceted nature of what it means to be Black, can you explain how you choose to represent this dimensionality as a creative?

BM: I represent what feels like home to me and parts of my home that are underrepresented. I grew up in a low-income neighborhood and there are a lot of things that are stigmatized about growing up in an urban community. There are so many things I love about how I grew up and how I understood community. I do my best to make sure that folks can see themselves in my art from my community and beyond.

CM: Artworks like “Ends Meet” and “Guidance” showcase your talent of juxtaposing compelling images using shape, color, and texture. What is your process of creating multimedia art?

BM: I like to include spiritual practices and beliefs into my pieces and practice because I don’t feel like I am creating by myself or based solely on my experience. Before I create, I ask my ancestors for guidance. Then, I look at what I have. I try not to buy [materials] unless I absolutely need [them]. Ends Meet was inspired by those who are living paycheck to paycheck and being resourceful. With that piece all I had was scraps and I just used what I had.

CM: If you had to define your art with a single word or phrase, what would it be?

BM: Black. That’s what it is. It’s Black, it will always be Black and never diverge from being Black. And I hope that when Black folks see my work, they feel a sense of home.

New Artist Spotlight: Maryam Rassapour

Maryam Rassapour is an Iranian American graphic designer, art teacher, and motion designer. She started her career as a teacher helping high school students prepare their college portfolios while working freelance. Rassapour brings awareness to issues of feminism using a variety of media and creates visually engaging art by drawing inspiration from her childhood and cultural influences.

In the following interview she speaks about her art and process with Touchstone intern Charmaine Mapp (a senior at George Mason University).

Charmaine Mapp: As a teacher and advocate of continuous education, what methods do you use to continue learning about yourself and the world? How do you implement these findings into your work?

Maryam Rassapour: I continue learning about myself through research and engagement with others. I study the history of other countries on feminism and social issues. Growing up in Iran under war conditions, I have had many good and bad experiences which I reflect in my art. I go to shows to learn more about other artists and look at the work of my students. I also look back at my older work to see what I can improve on. Ongoing discoveries keeps my art evolving and makes it more powerful and meaningful.

CM: You include writing in a lot of your artworks. For viewers who cannot read Persian, what do you hope they take away from your art despite potential language barriers and cultural differences?

MR: Persian calligraphy is more than writing; its symbols, its painting. Each word has its own curves and movement. I keep a translation on hand [for viewers], but I always use calligraphy as a texture in my art. Because I’m familiar with the words and sentence structure, I kind of play with it and change it.

CM: Are there any materials or art forms that you are curious about?

MR: I do sculpture with wire, but I would really like to learn more about molding and work with other sculptural materials.

CM: What prompts a new series and how do you know when that series is complete?

MR: I’m usually drawn to a subject or idea which creates a new series, or I watch something that sparks an idea. Because I am a mixed media artist, I experiment with materials to see what media works best for a new series. Finishing is hard. I might have decided that [a series is] finished, but the next day I come back to it and realize that something is missing. You feel it when it’s finished. When you look at it and see that you have conveyed the feeling to the viewer or it has a very strong composition, then you know. It’s a very challenging process.

CM: If you were to characterize the message of your art in a single word or sentence, what would it be?

MR: My last series [Unseen] was telling a story of the struggles, strength and survival of women, so resilience.

An Interview with Andrew Chalfen

Ash Newton, UMD Journalism student and Touchstone intern, interviewed Andrew Chalfen about his piece in the 2024 Iteration Reiteration exhibition.

Andrew Chalfen’s The Structure of Smoke is both an interpretation and subversion of patterns and repetition, the central theme of iteration reiteration. The intricate ink transfers create a complex array, but never repeat, while the painted wooden structure disrupts the rhythm of the piece by bursting out into three dimensions. The geometric shapes suggest algorithms or architecture, but their colors dazzle. When explaining the delicate balance of pattern and chaos in the piece, Chalfen says, “I rely on a mix of intentionality combined with a certain amount of randomization.” 

Ash Newton: What is your intent in creating this artwork?

Andrew Chalfen: Several answers, I suppose: I make art because that is what I do. Indeed, I feel compelled to do it and get antsy when I don't (same goes for creating music). I'm also following paths to see where my various aesthetic interests lead. "The Structure of Smoke" is the latest iteration of my exploration of certain forms (painted sticks, drawings used as ink transfers) and ways of using those forms in various arrangements/compositions. This path-following is a primary driver in what I do, asking the question "What if I do this?' and seeing how the work responds to that. I want to make work that coheres, makes aesthetic sense, is pleasing to the viewer. My pieces seem to suggest things, such as architecture, data, play, urban densities, etc without actually being those things. It not only involves a lot of puzzle solving and hopefully a few a-ha moments, but also a trust in the processes I've gradually developed over the years. I rely on a mix of intentionality combined with a certain amount of randomization. I make each stick and drawing not knowing exactly in what position it'll wind up in a work, or even in which work it'll end up. Thus, once I settle on a compositional strategy, I know generally in advance how a piece will turn out, but not specifically.

AN: I really like the way your work handled the exhibition's theme. Was the backing pattern predetermined?

AC: The general overall look of the backing pattern is something I have in mind in advance. However, there's a lot of randomization and chance involved at various points. The background is composed of many individual ink drawings, which tend to come into being in a pseudo-fractal manner as I make them. For the ink transfers, I used to use the original drawings, destroying them in the process, which after a while kind of bummed me out. Here I've spent all this work on a drawing only to have it used once and get destroyed. So I started scanning my drawings and printing them out and using the printouts to make the ink transfers. So I've got a growing library of scans of drawings I can pull from to create these complex assemblages. Plus the images are reversed due to the transfer process, adding another layer of unpredictability. The black and white of the drawings is a nice contrast to the colorful sticks. It's my current iteration for a background. In the past I've used solid gold fields, dark purple fields, various pale cloudscapes, just trying out different ideas.

AN: How was the wood structure constructed?

AC: I've developed a kind of factory line for stick creation. I take square dowels of various thicknesses, prime them, saw them into a variety of lengths, paint them on all sides, using painter's tape to get as clean a line as I can get, then varnish them. I want each stick to make aesthetic sense on its own, almost as a stand-alone piece of art. I figure if they look good individually, they'll look good massed. This has more or less worked out. I like to have a lot of painted sticks on hand when I begin to assemble a structure so I can hone in on what sticks go with what's already been constructed in terms of look and size. More puzzles to solve. After the background is completed and varnished, only then do I start gluing sticks to the panel and to each other. Once I've glued a stick down, I've committed. There's no undo. I have to be able to live with all my previous decisions. I kind of like that limitation (I kind of like having a lot of limitations. There are plenty of decisions to be made without the possibility of infinite options.) After I add each stick, I take a look at the overall composition to see where I feel the next stick needs to go and what color and shape it should be. At some point adding an additional piece feels like it would detract from the composition. That's how I know I'm done.

AN: Does putting art up for sale change its function? 

AC: I don't think so. I suppose this gets into what the purpose of art is in society and for the individual.  Plus artists have to eat. I guess I could just give away my art and music, but I feel an artist should be compensated for the work they do, just like anyone else.

AN: Do you care what the owner does with it?

AC: Hopefully they'll hang it on their wall and appreciate it! A lot of my pieces have no "up" - they can be hung in any 90 degree orientation. In fact, I wire a lot of my work with two wires so that the possessor of a piece can occasionally change up their viewing perspective. For me, I want people to enjoy my work, have things about it revealed slowly over time by observation. I'd rather have my art be in people's homes or, knock wood, a museum or two, than to have my home fill up with my works until I move along to the next astral plane. Maybe it's the performer in me, but I want others to enjoy/experience my work. Nice for someone to see art with a fresh set of eyes other than mine.

An Interview with Joy Nutt

Touchstone intern Talia Desai, a University of Pennsylvania student, interviewed Joy Nutt about her piece in the 2024 Iteration Reiteration juried exhibition.

Joy Nutt’s An Alternate Route is a vivid exploration of colors and patterns. The title comes from the initial vision for the piece changing overtime. Nutt painted this piece by placing large sections of color on the canvas and then later painting patterns on top. However, as she painted, she found herself repainting these sections. The artist embraced this evolution and idea that sometimes you have to take “an Alternate Route” in life.

When speaking about the inspiration for the piece, Nutt says, “This particular painting draws inspiration from the crazy quilt tradition in which scraps of leftover fabric are pieced together with simple or embroidery applique techniques. I think of each area of the painting as an opportunity to create a small piece of fabric, so kind of working in reverse of what a quilter would do.”

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Talia Desai: In what order did you paint the patterned sections and borders? Did the borders come first or the sections?

Joy Nutt: I started this painting with large areas of color only. The areas of color determine the sections of patterns. I decide what kind of pattern would look best against the background color and use found objects or traditional painting techniques to create the patterns. The black outline is the last step.

TD: Do the shapes of the borders reference anything in particular?

JN: No. It’s organically determined by the shape of the background colors.

TD: How long did it take to paint this piece? Did your vision of the end product change overtime?

JN: A painting of this size takes anywhere from 3-5 days if I’m working on it periodically. I never know what the end product will be when I start. I let the colors and patterns lead the way. The end product was different from how it started which answers the next question.

TD: How did you come up with the title?

JN: I was not satisfied with how the painting was going. I felt like I was trying to force patterns and colors together and it wasn’t looking cohesive. I painted over most of the canvas and only left a small portion of the original painting. I started over from the beginning of the process by adding areas of colors next to each other and then adding patterns on top. The title comes from the idea that you may start out going in one direction but end up having to take “An Alternate Route” along the way.

TD: Did you have a specific route/place in mind when creating this piece?

JN: No. It’s not based on a real or imaginary place. I was thinking more of how the colors and patterns interact with each other.

TD: How do you feel about being showcased in an exhibition with multiple quilts when you draw inspiration from quilts?

JN: I love it! I think of quilts as a form of fine art. I like how they can be geometric or organic. This particular painting draws inspiration from the crazy quilt tradition in which scraps of leftover fabric are pieced together with simple or embroidery applique techniques. I think of each area of the painting as an opportunity to create a small piece of fabric, so kind of working in reverse of what a quilter would do.

TD: How does the use of repetitive patterns impact your work?

JN: Patterns are essential to the work that I create. I like the challenge of coming up with as many pattern combinations as I can in one painting

An Interview with Anne Stine

Touchstone intern and GW Art History Grad Student Thea Polsky interviewed Anne Stine about her piece in the 2024 Iteration Reiteration juried exhibition.

Love is Heavy and Light, a title from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, captures the duality and complexity of love. The heavy rock formation imagery of the composition symbolizes the weight and intensity of affection, while the light colors and ethereal quality represent the work’s uplifting and delicate aspects. These rock formations build off each other, creating a kind of community where each member lovingly supports one another.

The use of encaustic painting captures the vibrant colors, fluidity, and textures of nature like no other medium. Using handmade beeswax paint, multiple translucent layers are created and invite viewers to explore the hidden depths of the surface. This encaustic process of layering and fusing with a blowtorch over and over embodies the show’s theme of repetition and refinement.

It’s the unpredictable nature of the piece’s medium that is truly inspiring and in its finished state has an overall balance of form, shapes, value, edge, and color.

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Thea Polsky: What led you to choose encaustic as the primary medium for your work?

Anne Stine: Encaustic painting lets me capture the vibrant colors, fluidity, and textures of nature like no other medium. In my abstract landscapes, I love to showcase vivid colors, dramatic textures, and a luminous quality. Using my handmade beeswax paint, I create multiple translucent layers that invite viewers to explore the hidden depths of the surface. The sculptural quality of the wax allows me to build textures that bring my work to life in a tactile way.

With a blowtorch in hand, I fused each layer onto a wood panel. I then gouge, scrape, and drip the wax to form impressionistic and abstract images of landscapes, waterways, and other natural scenes. It’s the unpredictable nature of the encaustic process that truly inspires me to push the boundaries of the medium and my imagination.

TP: How does the title relate to the artwork? 

AS: I chose the title, Love is Heavy and Light, from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet because it captures the duality and complexity of love. The heavy rock formation imagery in the composition symbolize the weight and intensity of love, while the light colors and ethereal quality represent its uplifting and delicate aspects. This juxtaposition within the painting reflects the idea that love can be both a burden and a source of joy, much like the verse suggests. I also see rock formations as representing a “community” of individuals where each member lovingly supports one another.

TP: Tell me more about the abstract elements of your artwork.

AS: It’s much like a dance when I create an abstract landscape. I first start with a base painting where the composition is loosely etched in with mixed media mark making to capture the overall flow and connection of forms in the painting. Here, I allow myself the freedom to express whatever comes to mind knowing there will be an opportunity to edit the base at a later stage.

Next, I apply clear encaustic medium to protect the base and decide on the palette that I’ll choose depending on the message of the artwork. In this painting, I chose a soft cool palette of greys and blues with subtle warm notes of creams and browns to reflect the soft feeling of being in love.

I continue adding encaustic paint to create the larger forms progressing each step to smaller and smaller shapes as a way of adding interest and detail.  Lastly, I go back and add expressive marks or scrape a variety of lines for a feeling of movement and whimsy. I feel that the painting is finished when there is a balance to form, shapes, value, edge, and color.   

 TP: How does Love is Heavy and Light exemplify the theme of Iteration Reiteration?

AS: The artistic process itself of creating multiple translucent layers of beeswax paint is a direct form of iteration. Each layer builds upon the previous one, adding depth and complexity to the artwork. This process of layering and fusing with a blowtorch over and over embodies the theme of repetition and refinement. The repeated use of rectangular and square shapes in the artwork mirrors the natural patterns found in rock formations.

New Artist Spotlight: Susanne Tabet

Susanne Tabet’s abstract portraits are deeply intriguing, evoking a sense of mystical feminine power. Susanne began her career working as an abstract artist and has stuck with it ever since – she was drawn to the idea of “supplying questions, not answers” in her paintings, an element of the influence she draws from the Abstract Expressionist movement.

Her paintings do indeed supply just as many questions as answers: she seeks to create vaguely recognizable figures, yet constantly shifting in perspective. Susanne’s choice of subject is particularly relevant in creating this sense of familiarity yet mystique. When selecting her portrait, she is drawn by a particular energy: that of autonomy, strength, and tenacity. However, that doesn’t mean she seeks to depict a perfect, idealized woman. Rather, Susanne is drawn by the strength a woman carries in their everyday life. The women she paints could be a loose acquaintance, a close friend, or just someone she catches a glimpse of on the street: anyone with a strong, self-actualized agenda. She traces some of this inspiration back to her teen years, exploring “glossy, high-fashion magazines” and the women they portrayed. Their allure and sense of power is certainly mirrored in Susanne’s portraits, with their jagged angles and piercing gazes.

Susanne’s approach is highly intuitive, part of her process in which she avoids pre-planning any specific “prescriptive meaning.” The very nature of her process – avoiding any selection of color palette, formal composition, etc. in advance – results in a very “tactile” final piece, where certain elements seem to “interlock” at completion. Similarly, Susanne prefers to work on multiple pieces at any given moment, allowing her the time and space to revisit projects at will with a fresh eye. In returning to ongoing works, she finds that is exactly the moment where the final touch comes to her, whether that be her distinctive tones of blue and indigo, a certain highlight, or another geometric shape. Regardless of where the process leads her, Susanne’s talent shines through in her paintings, just as the sense of female empowerment shines through. 

New Artist Spotlight: Lesley Clarke

Lesley’s work in encaustic wax is rich, distinctive, and vivacious – she seeks to “evoke memories of our landscape” and our relationships with the physical world. Despite the skill and intricacy of her pieces, she hasn’t always worked with encaustic; she worked as an acrylic painter for most of her career and only began to incorporate encaustic over the past ten years. Today, she splits her time and space between the two endeavors, a separation that allows her to give her works time to “grow into their own” and to consider characteristics that one brings out in the other. She is one of several Touchstone artists who work out of the Torpedo Factory in Alexandria, and has accredited both institutions as being vibrant communities of artists.

Above all else, Lesley gives great attention to the process and intricate techniques that are required when working with encaustic wax. It is truly an ancient tradition, one that began with Egyptians using the process to create funeral portraits, artifacts that, remarkably, remain intact today. Today, much of the process remains the same as it did thousands of years ago: Lesley begins with creating the base mixture consisting of beeswax and resin, colored with dried pigments. She then uses a torch to create the rich texture that characterizes her work: this separates and splits the wax into lines and shapes that form the composition of the work. Her intuitive approach – she states she “works with however the wax speaks to her –  allows for her scenes to truly come to life, forming flowing lines and deep textural patterns. 

What makes Lesley’s work truly remarkable is her ability to create recognizable settings and themes that make the scene truly come alive. Whether she is depicting her native home of Scotland or modern ecological themes, Lesley seeks to address environmental issues. This concern first came to the forefront of her mind on a trip to Iceland: she was shocked by the shrinkage of glaciers happening “before her eyes” and found that it was disconcertingly similar to other ecological changes she observed in Scotland, such as seeing various maritime creatures being “strangled by pollution.” These themes emerge in her encaustic work, depicting issues such as shrinking of glaciers (Glacier Melt) and wildfires (Hope After Fire) in order to bring awareness to these changes happening in the environment around us. Despite the heaviness of these topics, her work is enlivened by a sense of hope: much of her work also centers upon ideas of growth and regeneration. She reminds us that in spite of the damage humans are causing to the environment, nature, above all else, remains resilient: there is a chance for the course to be reversed and the clock to be turned back.

New Artist Spotlight: Veronica Barker-Barzel

Veronica Barker-Barzel has “always been a painter in some sense,” an identity that clearly comes across in her printmaking. She got her start in printmaking twelve years ago, and quite early on she sought to synthesize the two mediums of printmaking and painting. Veronica states that she first “fell in love with the process” itself, and then learned to express her ideas and emotions through her subjects.

Her recent works expand into mixed-media sculpture—she is currently working on a collage piece that synthesizes items like memorabilia, cigarette cases, and old boxes that serve as an homage to the memory of an historical building. Today, Veronica’s prints center around the mythological, in particular creatures and themes that she has encountered through her extensive travels throughout Europe and Asia. 

Veronica’s journey through printmaking as a medium is defined by rich patterns, cultivating joy, and creating a sense of wonder. Whether working on a woodblock poster for a local arts festival or building on her recurring theme of the jackalope, her goal remains the same: to bring a healing factor to her audience. She likes to play in the abstract— the idea of playfulness certainly comes through in her whirling patterns, whimsical subjects, and bold colors.

Veronica was put off by the “cleanness” and sterility of life in the United States, she feels that the rich and mystical traditions of countries such as Spain, Italy, and Japan bridge gaps through time to bring “spirit beings” into modern life. Thus, this idea of a healing factor in her art is one that connects people through time and within this feeling of joy and wonder. 

Going forward, Veronica plans to continue to build upon these themes. She is driven by her own intuition, as she simply does “what the paper tells me to do.” In terms of her practical process, Veronica hopes to continue to push herself out of her comfort zone by working with a larger variety of colors, in particular moving from her current use of blues into more reds, oranges, yellows. Overall, she wants to keep growing and to keep challenging herself—whether she continues to work with the motif of jackalope or continues to include other mystical creatures, her work will certainly inspire, in her own words, “dancing in the festival of life.”

New Artist Spotlight: Anice Hoachlander

Anice Hoachlander has been working as an architectural photographer for the past thirty years, or as she puts it, “all I have ever done in my life has been a photographer.” Anice works as both a commercial photographer of architecture and a fine art photographer, though her interest in fine art is  recently revived after taking a backseat to focus on her commissions. Despite her wealth of experience and background as an architectural photographer, she states that she still “felt like an emerging artist” as she began to explore her fine art more. This feeling is exactly what drew Anice to Touchstone: to her, the community has been a guiding force. As she seeks to apply her foundations and line of thinking to this new pursuit, she found that the collective of artists at Touchstone have helped her to articulate that transition.

Even as a commercial photographer, Anice found that it was important to her to photograph buildings in a dynamic, living way. This idea lent itself very well to her fine art portfolios, the titles of which being “Mushroom Symphonics”, “Geometric Expressionism” (inspired by the Precisionist Movement), “The Structural Landscape” (the subject being Live Oak trees), and “Elemental Details” (depicting miniature natural details in sharp view). These portfolios are all united by her inspiration she takes from the repetition, order, and structure of architecture and applying that concept to organic materials. She views these elements of nature as being building material in their own way, their patterns forming solid, 3-D shapes. Anice is particularly interested in the way light brings fresh energy and life to these structures. In fact, she states that “everywhere I see structure, and I see its light.” This is particularly evident in her “Mushroom Symphonics” collection - the ripples of the mushrooms, enlarged in great detail yet retaining excellent sharpness is brought to life by light falling into the crevasses of the organic material and bouncing off of the smooth walls with a sense of lyricism.

In fact, her ability to retain eloquent articulation of these organic details of the structures in such a micro-view is remarkable. Anice accomplishes this by taking multiple images, racking the focus differently on separate parts of the subject, and then stacking them together to form a sharply articulated photo. While the final product is as detailed as the view one would see with their eye, the process produces a sort of “softness” in the lines that introduce an element of abstraction. The harsh lines of the structural patterns are diffused out by the softness of the light that Anice brights out through this process.

One of Anice’s goals is ensuring that her portfolios all “look like they’ve come from the same photographer,” despite having greatly varied subject matters. This goal has certainly been achieved: her four fine art portfolios are unified by attention to bringing a source of dynamism to structure. Anice believes that “everything is patterns and repetition.” In viewing Anice’s work, this vision of structure quite clearly comes across. Her photography creates a worldview that is driven by the rhythm of these organic melodies flowing from the world around us. 

See Anice’s work in New Artists Spotlight exhibition and in ongoing Touchstone group shows.

French Connections: Part III

The third and last article in the French Connections series on Touchstone artists and their links to France. Intern Emma Cunningham-Bradshaw spoke with McCain McMurray about his experience at an artist residency on the southeast coast of France. McCain was inspired by the environment there more than he usually is, and painted many pieces named after particular towns along the Côte d’Azur. He painted with lighter colors, reflective of the luminous colors around him, while retaining his signature architectural style. You can also read the other articles in the French Connections series (Part I and Part II)

This past April, McCain McMurray traveled to France for a five week long artist residency. The program is called Artists in Residence (AIR) in Vallauris, a town on the southeast coast of France, not too far from Italy. For centuries, Vallauris has been famed for pottery, and had a boost in notoriety when Pablo Picasso moved there in the 1950s. For the last 15 years, McCain has traveled to France with his husband who works for the French Embassy. McCain’s familiarity with France along with the many artists he’s fond of with connections to the country, such as Nicolas de Staël, propelled his desire to do a program there. He was looking for a small residency on the coast and found AIR which typically has only five artists in residence. They live in a building owned by the program on Place Lisnard and around the corner is the studio where they work. “We were essentially all free to do whatever we wanted. We foraged for ourselves, we had a kitchen and a living room and we were all in the studio basically every day.” 

A view of the square and chapel on Place Lisnard, Vallauris

McCain had expected to be inspired by the light and colors of the French Riviera. “I’ve done a lot of stuff that’s related to water, particularly blue ocean water, as opposed to lake or inland waters.” While in Vallauris, he frequented stops on a train that runs from Marseille all the way up to Ventimiglia, Italy, cities such as Cannes, Antibes, Nice, Monaco, Roquebrune-Cap-Martin, and Menton. He also frequented Golfe-Juan, a coastal village between Cannes and Antibes. “I love that place because it’s not fancy. I’d ride the bus down there for lunch.” More than is usual for him, McCain’s work while at AIR was inspired by the cities he visited. One story he tells is illustrative of how the environment affected him. “I went to Cannes to change money, and I walked down the croisette and was so struck by how white all the buildings were. It just really blew me away.” Prior to this, he was painting with darker colors, somber blues and reds. In Vallauris, he started painting with lighter colors. “That white, the silvery color, and the lighter blues were very appealing to me. The sky is such an intense blue down there, and I would typically make that very light. So most of my colors were in the blues and the whites and I’m a big fan of silver so I use a lot of that.” One might notice this silver in the rocks along the water. “The Mediterranean is not really beachy, in terms of sand beach, it’s very rocky.” Further revealing how the cities inspired him, most of his pieces from this period are titled the names of cities along the Côte d’Azur. 

Vallauris 05

McCain was an architect for decades before fully taking on painting. He calls his work ‘geometric abstraction;’ it is strongly rectilinear. In France, he was less harsh with the rectilinear rigor in his art. “I became a little looser in terms of the way I applied the colors, the colors I used, the way I manipulated them. I didn’t overwork the pieces like I sometimes do.” McCain brought six 8 by 8 cradle panels and 12 pieces of canvas with him for the residency. He serendipitously had a squeegee (which is his preferred tool for painting) that was the same width as his rectangular panels. “I would put different colors on the canvas and then pull the squeegee through. Happenstance and coincidence would create whatever color or texture the pulling might create. Within that is not one color, it could be a variety of colors as those colors mix together. I really enjoy the spontaneity of what might come up, but within that fairly distinct medium.” His interest in water and blues has been a throughline in his work. I ask him how flowy water fits into his rectilinear style. His answer: he doesn’t see water as flowing. “In terms of geometry, the color variation of the water is very appealing to me. Water is of course, not really blue, it’s a variety of blues and greens and turquoises.” 

Despite being so inspired by his surroundings, McCain didn’t paint from photos, or even memory strictly speaking; he was always intently focused on color. “I would mix a color and like it and put it on a canvas, and then maybe I’d say, I want it lighter or I want darker, or I want it greener or I want it greyer.” He mixes colors in take out containers and keeps a lid on them so they won’t dry out. “If I want to make a blue whiter, I’ll just put some white in, or if I’ve got two different blues, I’ll mix those together, so I’m constantly kind of developing colors and reusing colors.” He often screws cradle panels together, and paints them one color over and over again to develop the surface. “It is an attempt to have a color on top of another color, so you kind of see that there is something behind it or something within it.”

Nice, France

In Vallauris, McCain had many ideas about pieces he’d like to make. In the past, he’s screwed panels together so that the pieces of wood extend beyond each other. He’d like to explore that style again and this time use wood to create layers of planes with beams supporting them. The inspiration for this came from a very practical insight. “In Vallauris, I was going to make this piece and realized ‘you know, I can't get this home if I make it like this,’ so I did something else and it was this notion of layers of planes with colors that are fairly architectural and also fairly sculptural.” Currently in his studio, he’s arranged pieces of wood of different widths and thicknesses. He sees what he’s doing as similar to Louise Nevelson’s sculptures. “They’re not as animated as Nevelson, but they’re more architectural than Nevelson. One piece that I really liked, I just wiped white onto unfinished wood, so it had this really unpainted quality. I'm really debating about how I present these and use color to make the sculpture be one thing that’s not just a painted thing.”

The last weekend of the residency, there was an exhibition of the work the artists had completed that summer. “There were a lot of locals who came, about 30 people which was very surprising.” McCain has especially fond memories of that square, Place Lisnard, where their residency stood. “If you go on the weekend, the gallery will be open and the little chapel is right across. It’s a tiny, little wonderful place.”

Below is a slideshow of McCain’s own pictures from his stay.

The AIR Gallery in Vallauris

St Martin Cap Ferrat from the train

Shopping street off of Garibaldi Palace

Roquebrune-Cap-Martin

A beach in old town Antibes

French Connections: Part II

Intern Emma Cunningham-Bradshaw interviewed Touchstone member artist Amy Sabrin about her ‘In Provence’ watercolor collection and her trips to an artist residency in the Provence region of France that inspired it. Amy fondly recalls the fun shapes of the trees, the pervading smell of lavender, and the vivid colors that make you think of artists such as Cézanne and Van Gogh who painted scenes of Provence as realists rather than impressionists. Emma followed in Amy’s footsteps, visiting many of her favorite places in Provence while endeavoring to capture elements of the environment that Amy was so enamored with.

The Zoom waiting room closes and up pops Amy Sabrin in a pale green shirt with one of her own watercolor paintings as the background: blue-purple trees in the region of Provence, France, casting shadows over a golden yellow field. Amy thought it appropriate to showcase this image since today we are speaking about her collection ‘In Provence’ and what inspired it. Starting in 2009 and continuing for eight non-consecutive years until before the pandemic, Amy went to a hamlet in the Luberon National Park called les Bassacs. There, for two weeks in the summer she attended Arts in Provence, a program started by two British artists who had lived in Provence for years. When Amy began going to Provence, she was still a full-time lawyer. “I didn’t have much time to paint when I wasn’t there. So, I just wanted to paint every hour I could.”

Under the Olives

The primary activity every day at Arts in Provence was ‘plein-air’ painting which is, most simply, when one paints outdoors. ‘Plein-air’, literally ‘open air’, is a practice that emerged in the 19th century in France with the invention of tin paint tubes. This enabled artists to travel with ready-mixed paints. ‘Plein-air’ painting fueled the Impressionist movement with artists such as Monet and Renoir endeavoring to capture the changes in the environment on a canvas. Amy says of her summers in Provence, “lavender was in bloom, every day you would go out and paint plein-air in this new, beautiful location and then you had art instruction in the afternoon, art critique and wonderful meals, homemade on-site with all the fresh local food and wine. It’s just an unbelievable experience in a beautiful place so I kept going back, and that’s what inspired all these paintings.” I ask Amy about what she thinks drew such famous artists, and continues to draw artists to Provence today. She believes it is the light and rural scenery. “When I think of Provence, I think of Van Gogh and Cézanne. When you walk into these pine forests, they look just like a Cezanne painting! You think his painting is made up, it’s actually more realist than you think it is… those colors, especially the orange and the green. It’s just such a pleasant environment.”

This vibrant orange is best showcased in the ochre quarries of the Luberon Valley. I visited one of these quarries named ‘Le Colorado Provençal’ because of its startling similarity to the American Southwest’s colors and rock formations. Indeed, the smell, dry heat and colors all reminded me of Colorado or New Mexico. The ground beneath as I walk up the mountain, on a path between fragrant pine trees, is red clay. As the rock formations come into view, one sees a continuum of color, from light pink, to yellows, bright oranges and reds. This land was mined for paint pigments for almost two centuries, and is now protected territory where people like myself and Amy can admire the land. This type of land is something I never fathomed seeing outside the US. One thing that reminded me I was in Provence while on that hike was seeing the lavender fields atop the mountain, blowing in the breeze and buzzing with bees. 

Amy’s plein-air painting at the ochre quarry

However, the vibrant colors in the ochre quarries are anomalies with regard to the Provence landscape. The colors of the vegetation oscillate between yellows and pale greens. Much of Provence is wheat fields, and so that golden color of grain is ubiquitous. The ground is sandy both in color and texture. It is a very dry environment, though there are lush milieus like shaded gardens and vineyards—Provence is famous for its rosé. Out in the open, unshielded by shade, the heat is quite relentless, particularly in the afternoon when everything slows down. At that time, most businesses close and people take their daily respite from the toils of the day. Arts in Provence also abided by this tradition. After finishing the daily art lesson and of course a sumptuous meal, the artists were free to do as they wished. Amy said most often they would sketch or paint in the environs of the school, either individually or as a group. “There are these beautiful undulating vineyards and lavender fields within a very short walk of where we stayed and so that was a frequent attraction.” When I visited Les Bassacs, I walked on a path that continued beyond the village. I focused on the trees rising on either side and their shadows, criss-crossing on the ground below. I imagined Amy would have painted there, and I’m sure she did. She said of Les Bassacs, “that time of year you can be outside until 10 at night; it’s still light. The sunsets, the sunrises are gorgeous. Where we stayed there are many teeny weeny villages and they’re all perched on the side of the valley. The art school was on one side, and if you sat on the patio overlooking the valley, as it got dark, the lights would come on all over. It was just magical.”

Shadow Play, painted plein-air in Les Bassacs

One can discern Amy’s love of light, color and shape in her ‘In Provence’ paintings: shadows of trees cutting luminous paths, flame-red tomatoes in market baskets, a sinuous black cat on a pastel window sill. Amy painted exclusively in watercolors when she was there. “One thing I really like about watercolors is that they’re so transparent and luminous and the light bounces through them, and that is consistent with the environment there. From a technical point of view, if you’re working fast, watercolor dries fast, since it’s a very dry environment.” She found the trees in Provence particularly appealing. “The trees just have the most fun shapes and they make the most fun negative shapes, and their leaves are this interesting silvery color. It took me like two years to figure out how to mix that color. The sun comes under them and they cast these cool shadows.”

Market Day, Apt

The coloring of the towns in Provence reflect the natural environment: dry with toned down versions of every color. One sees shutters the same purple-gray as lavender fields and walls of orange hues (some painted with pigments from the ochre quarries). Many of the towns in Provence were founded prior to the 15th century, including Saint-Saturnin-lès-Apt, one of Amy’s favorite towns. At the highest point of the town, there are well-preserved ruins of a medieval fortress and several cypress trees (perhaps Van Gogh’s favorite tree, as seen in his paintings) as well as a still-operating church dating to the 11th century. You are also surrounded by a stunning vista of the Luberon Valley and look down to see all the clay-shingled houses of the town proper. There, you walk through narrow sloping streets, stumble upon arched passageways, see bushy vines shrouding ornate doors and all those classic Provence colors.

Dreaming of St. Sat

While Amy has painted scenes from several countries, there are only two places that she is most drawn to: coastal areas in the US (she is calling me from Bethany Beach, Delaware) and Provence. She sees the commonality of these two areas in their colors and bright light. These are environments she’s spent a lot of time observing, practicing mixing the colors she perceives around her. Years of immersion in Provence made her very familiar with the land. “I went so many years in a row, that I could almost paint with my eyes closed, thinking of the sounds, the breeze, the sunlight.” She even cultivated relationships with market vendors who she would see year after year. “In the eight years I was there, the same vendors were always in the same place. I remembered the vendors and they would remember me.”

About half of the paintings in the ‘In Provence’ collection were painted plein-air in France, while others were inspired by the memories and photos of her surroundings. Arts in Provence has not operated since the pandemic. Yet, even though Amy hasn’t been to Provence in several years, the sense of the environment is embedded within her. “I look at the paintings I did in Provence and I can remember what it felt like when I painted it, when I was in that place.” 

French Connections: Part 1

This is first in a series of three articles on Touchstone member artists and their connections to France. Emma Cunningham-Bradshaw, a Summer 2023 Touchstone intern, interviewed photographer Rick Braswell at his home in Paris. They spoke of Rick’s street photography style, his experiences traveling and photographing in Europe, and the torturous feeling of not having his camera on him when he sees the perfect shot! Emma also visited places where Rick likes to shoot around Paris and Marseille (another one of Rick’s favorite cities) and includes her own images of the locales.

Rick Braswell in Paris

In his apartment overlooking l’Île de la Cité where a scaffold-laden Notre Dame stands, artist Rick Braswell welcomes me for an apératif and an interview. He and his wife Sandy have lived here in Paris for five years. As we settle in the living room, Sandy offers us each a glass of white wine and a plate of little snacks before retiring to her office. Although she has her own job to attend to, she helps Rick out on his artistic escapades including the weekly Marché de la Création — or Montparnasse art market — in the Montparnasse district of Paris. What is at night a cluster of neon signs, lanes of restaurants extending onto the sidewalk, and more than one sex shop, in the daytime becomes like many other Parisian locales with its bustling cafés and people going to and from markets and grocery stores. Only that over this district looms the Montparnasse Tower, the tallest building in Paris proper. “The Montparnasse art market is a fun thing.” Rick says. “It's physically kind of demanding since you have to bring all your stuff down, hang all the pictures with tension ropes… we don’t have a car so we carry everything over. Everybody there is an artist, a few photographers, many painters. The first time we arrived, just rookies and so grateful to be let into the market, my wife Sandy and I got out of a taxi and all these artists look and this guy says, “I think this is the first time an artist has ever arrived at the art market in a taxi.” Their surprise, of course, stemmed from the age old idea that artists don’t have much money. 

“So, what brought you to Paris?” I ask Rick. After years in D.C., Rick and Sandy moved to Geneva, Switzerland for Sandy’s job. When it came time to move and Sandy thought they would head back to D.C., Rick asked the question: “What about Paris?”. “We’ve always loved Paris, and visited many times. I knew I would love to photograph here, but we moved simply because I love Paris. I love the ambiance, the style of people, the look of the place, you just can’t beat the quality of life. There’s tons of culture including photography, art and music here. Jazz is a big passion of ours, and there are just wonderful jazz clubs in Paris. I love D.C. but I just thought, for something new, I’d like to live in Paris.”

Rick’s photographs have now become synonymous with Parisian and European street scenes. He’s traveled in Italy, France and Switzerland, focused on capturing people in cities. “For better or for worse you could say working people who are out doing what they’re doing.” He doesn’t care for photographing ‘the glitterati or well-to-do.’ “Those cafes of Paris, you can take beautiful pictures there, but it’s not so much my thing. I’m looking for working people, young people, and their families. The real diversity you find in the population.” When I ask why he is drawn to photographing the working-class, Rick reminds me that he was a union organizer before retiring and pursuing photography as a career. He sees himself as part of and sympathizes with the working-class, and finds beauty, excitement and fun in photographing regular folk. “I’m just not ever going to get that real appreciative feeling of taking a picture of a guy in an Armani suit.”

Tango, Banks of the Seine, Paris

Rick aims to be as discreet as possible when he’s on a shoot. “I don’t do any posing of people, I don’t ask people if I can take their picture because that’s not the picture I want. Most of my pictures you wouldn’t get if you asked the person, you wouldn’t get the sort of interesting picture I’m looking for.” He’s had a few people spot him and then object to him taking their picture, and while he respected their wishes, he sees no reason for people to object to his photographing. “I’m always trying to make people look good, and capture these characteristics that I think are really admirable and attractive. So, I have no bad motive in it.” He tells me that some photographers think that once you’re in the public space, others are free to look, photograph, paint you. While Rick is more sensitive to this issue and recognizes that taking photos is offensive in some milieus, he somewhat agrees with the sentiment.. “I take a picture and the picture turns into this piece of paper on the wall. Nobody’s ever going to attach that piece of paper to this person. It’s just something that existed in the world and I took a picture of it.”

Some might call this candid style of photography ‘humanism’, a movement in photography that blossomed in France after World War II. Rick speaks of the movement’s defining photographers: Sabine Weiss, William Ronis, Henri Cartier-Bresson. “These people took street photography shots back in the 50s, 60s and 70s. They’re just an inspiration if you do street photography. They always found something very human about the people they were dealing with, something that you would say, ‘oh, i’ve seen that gesture a million times, that’s exactly what people do!’ It’s real hard to get this kind of shot.” These artists mainly photographed in black and white which is also Rick’s preference. “Black and white photographs seem more artistic above and beyond anything that I’m doing; they look a lot better, more artistic and a little more meaningful.”

In short, Rick’s focus is on the people, interesting in their everyday activities, whether he’s in Paris or Chicago. He frequents Marseille, a city in the south of France. Parisians often give Marseille a bad reputation for its dirtiness (I did encounter several overflowing piles of trash just off of prominent boulevards), but Rick loves it for its grit. He also loves the sun and lighting there which, as a photographer, one notices right away. Marseille is on the Mediterranean sea and boasts a beautiful coastline, and many rocky alcoves with turquoise waters just minutes from the city-center. Many in Marseille are of North African descent. Walking down the streets near the Old Port, I hear about as much Arabic as I do French.

Old Port Marseille

Though I haven’t been to any North African country, I grew up in Tanzania and for a time lived in Zanzibar, an island off the coast. Similar to Marseille, Zanzibar has for centuries been a ground for cross-pollination of cultures and people. The sounds of Arabic on the streets of Marseille, the shops with baskets filled with bright spices, the all important ritual of tea (mint in Marseille, masala in Zanzibar) were comforting in their familiarity. Yet, in Marseille, only a short walk away from the North-African-leaning Noailles district, are those classical French buildings. This mélange of France and North Africa in terms of architecture, language and traditions make Marseille a truly distinctive and dynamic city. 

I also ask Rick about his time photographing in Italy. Earlier on the day of our interview, I went to an exhibit at the Académie des Beaux-Arts called ‘The Italians’ by French photographer Bruno Barbey. He traveled around Italy in the 1960s  and said, “Italians give themselves freely to being photographed, contrary to other people.” Rick has to agree with him. “Italians are very photogenic. They just seem to be indifferent if you’re taking their picture. Some French people, I notice, are a little reluctant to be photographed. You would never imagine finding an Italian who would refuse having their picture taken.” Rick has a particular fondness for Sicily. “Like Marseille, Sicily is a cross-cultural mixture, and at the same time very very Italian.” His collection Neo-Neorealism has photos from a road trip down the eastern coast, from Padua down to the heel of Italy. “The further south we went, the more we loved it. There were just incredible scenes. On that road trip, I was looking for a neorealist look that I could replicate. You know, those middle aged guys talking to their momma and those kinds of things, and you find that it’s really there.”

Polignano A Mare

Rick doesn’t always have his camera on him, he normally plans to shoot on a particular day since lugging around his camera gets pretty heavy. Though, as life would have it, he says he often sees the ideal shot when he doesn’t have his camera. “I was just going to the grocery store about three days ago and walking up the street in front of the Monde Arabe and I saw a shot that… I could’ve kicked myself! I didn’t have my camera. For whatever reason, it was this woman leaning against a lamppost with a lit cigarette, smoke coming up, reading a newspaper, and no one reads a newspaper these days! The sun hitting her right in the forehead…” 

The shooting, he says, is just a matter of luck. “I take my camera and I go to places where I think I’m gonna see the kind of thing I want to see, I go at the time of day when there's the light that I like. If I see it, I take a shot of it but I may not see exactly what I want. I can’t readily articulate what I’m looking for, it’s a matter of instinct that makes me get my camera up and shoot when I just see what’s going on in front of me.” 

Rick and Sandy are settled in Paris, though they maintain their connection with D.C. and visit every summer. Touchstone Gallery was the first place Rick continuously showed his photos and he sees being a member as a very big accomplishment. During my own month of living in Paris this summer while working virtually for Touchstone, I relished in the relative slowness of Parisian city life coming from the valued daily rituals, the balance of work and pleasure. I think the beauty of this slowness is captured in these words of Rick’s, “sometimes I set up in a place, look at this shadow, look at that glancing light over there, this is a nice urban scene, I’m just going to wait here for a while and see who comes by.”

Beach in Marseille

A Street in Marseille

Place Dauphine

Sentier Metro Station

Sentier Metro Station

Man at Place Dauphine

Place Dauphine at Night

Rue Montorgueil

Playing Pétanque at Place Dauphine

- Words and gallery photos by Emma Cunningham-Bradshaw; inline photos by Rick Braswell

An interview with Elaine Florimonte

Gallery Assistant Jackie Soto speaks with artist Elaine Florimonte about her art and her solo exhibition Lost & Found.

JS: While we were both sitting in the gallery together, I had the amazing opportunity to talk with Elaine about her solo exhibition, her art style, and about teaching. Here are some snippets of our conversation.

JS: How do you approach the use of color in your work?

EF: I tend to use the same palette in most of my works. You can see in the smaller pieces that I have that there is some inclusion of new colors, but the old ones will make their way in. But I just gravitate towards these grays, and it’s so much easier to use them than to fight it.

JS: Could you describe your painting process?

EF: I begin new work with intuitive drawing and blocking in with color. I really just start painting and let the process guide me. Sometimes I have an idea of what the composition will be, but more often than not, I just paint and look.

JS: How do you form an idea, and then transport it to the canvas?

EF: I am inspired by nature and the things that happen during any given day. I see light patterns or proportions that inspired me. Sometimes I grab them with my phone and use bits and pieces in my compositions, but I don’t paint from a specific image. I draw a lot too and I think my work reflects the value that I use in my sketches.

JS: What themes or concepts are you exploring in your current series of paintings?

EF: The paintings are mostly landscapes, because that is what makes me happy. But the theme – we’re at a point in our culture where change is dramatic. It’s lost and found, its things that are lost and being found now that put us into the direction we are going on. I include some pages from my personal drawings, old letters, notebook paper, things that have been lost and have now been found.

I am also playing around with the idea of dislocation and separation, by showing the interior and exterior views.

JS: What is your favorite painting and why?

EF: If you mean in this show... My favorite painting in this show is “This Side of the Glass II.” It feels a little like a pivot piece. I’m not sure what it is about it, but I feel really satisfied when I look at it.

If you mean of all time, that is like asking me which finger is my favorite... I need them all! :) My current favorite painting is Rod and Reel by Andrew Wyeth. It is everything. The design and composition makes me salivate and the abstraction in the surface quality, I mean... And that red string. What the heck!!! I love every inch of it.

JS: How has teaching art informed your process?

EF: I always learn from my students. There’s a generational gap between us, I’m in my 50s and they’re all under 20. They’ll come up and ask me questions and it would completely change what I do – based on a question. I teach using the socratic method, asking them questions until they come up with the answer themselves. One of the most powerful things is being in a constant creative space.

JS: How do you decide when a painting is finished?

EF: You feel it. It depends on the piece, whether it's planned or not. But it is intuitive. I tend to lose track of the piece, so it's a feeling when it's done.

JS: Where do you see your art going next? What are your plans for the future?

EF: I am not sure. I am following my gut right now.

*****

See Elaine Florimonte’s Lost & Found at Touchstone Gallery through December 3.

Click here to read a review of the exhibition in the Washington Post.

University of Maryland Acquisitions "Processing Gender Aspirations" from Touchstone Gallery’s SEQUENCE Exhibition

By Caroline Crutsinger-Perry

In January and February of this year, 2023, Touchstone Gallery presented the exhibition SEQUENCE; a juried international open call where works of art showcased the impact and influence of technology. One of the pieces juried into the exhibition was Processing Gender Aspirations, a silver gelatin print by the artist Homosocial, which was recently acquisitioned by the University of Maryland. 

Processing Gender Aspirations will be on display at the University of Maryland’s Stamp Student Union starting in September 2023. The piece was purchased by UMD’s Contemporary Art Purchasing Program (CAPP). CAPP is a committee of UMD students and Art History Professors who research and purchase the artworks. For the Fall 2022 acquisitions, works were selected that fit the theme of Critical Compassion: Art as a Means of Joy. The committee members write in their 2022-2023 December Manifesto that the CAPP collection contains pieces that “express the failings of the human condition,” and obtaining more joyful pieces will offer a more balanced perspective of humanity. This new perspective will “help to build a better future for all.”

Brian Van Camerik created Processing Gender Aspirations for Homosocial. The collective’s main project seeks out old photographs of queer or homosocial couples—that is same-sex relationships that are not romantic or sexual in nature. These found photographs introduce a new narrative, and bring light to stories, relationships, and ideas of gender.

See Processing Gender Aspirations by Homosocial in What We Do After at the Stamp Gallery from August 28 - September 30, 2023. There will be an opening reception on Wednesday, September 13 from 5-7 pm. This exhibition also features a piece by Touchstone Foundation for the Arts Fellow Jenny Wu (2019-22).

About Processing Gender Aspirations

The background of this twelve-by-eighteen inch piece is a deep green decorated with a subtle white and black marbled pattern. At the center of the work is a black and white photograph of a young child standing in front of a wooden picket fence; one hip popped out to the side, staring out at the audience. The photograph is mounted onto a lavender and light yellow background with scalloped edges, and is reminiscent of homemade cards or a scrapbook page. Emerging out from either side of the photograph is a collection of thin lines in that same pale yellow tone, which lead to smaller cards with the words “bending the” on the left side of the photo and “binary” on the right side. The deep green background sliced with yellow lines connect the words and photograph, calling to mind a circuit board or computer chip. 

Van Camerik overlays the photographs with representations of microprocessors and computer chips that appear to be ‘processing’ or attempting to understand same-sex couples and queer people. These works are a visual analysis of gender and language. The artist desires to create pieces that viewers can engage with and reflect about their own opinions towards non-binary individuals, the use of they/them pronouns or gendered phrases like “man up”. Van Camerik works with this subject matter both to work on their own internalized -isms, and to inspire audiences to reevaluate and deconstruct their biases.

Van Camerik uses both imagery from computer microprocessors and scrapbooking techniques to highlight the gender binary, and how the androgynous child in the center seems to be breaking the binary by not being easily identifiable as one gender or the other. Computer microprocessors represent the male dominated fields of science and technology, while the decorative borders in yellow and purple are made on a Cricut machine—a machine for scrapbooking, which has long been considered a ‘feminine’ art form. Van Camerik initially rejected use of the Cricut because it was not a ‘fine art’ technique, but deconstructed their own internalized misogyny towards scrapbooking, and now uses aspects of it in their work which encourages viewers to do the same.

The acquisition of Processing Gender Aspirations made Van Camerick rethink how they saw the piece; feeling validated and leaving them with a more positive outlook about art collection and creation. Homosocial’s piece was selected in part due to the artworks’ rejection of the binary and celebration of the non-binary; its interdisciplinary process and combination of mediums, and the genderqueer identity of the artist themselves.