Joanna Gabler, Roots 2, 2013. Archival pigment print.

Berkshire Artist Joanna Gabler, “Emigrés – Where is Home?” at Gallery Ehva, Provincetown: October 25-November 5, 2013 – Opening Friday, October 25, 6-8 pm

Joanna Gabler,  “Emigrés – Where is Home?” at Gallery Ehva, Provincetown: October 25-November 5, 2013 – Opening Friday, October 25, 6-8 pm.
74 Shank Painter Road
Provincetown, MA 02657
(508) 487-0011

On view in the Gallery Ehva in Proveincetown is “Nature Transfigured,” an exhibition of works by Joanna Gabler, painter and photographer. The art in this exhibition is the fruit of  Joanna’s passion for photography and her quest for uncovering the mysteries of nature. Sensitive to color and form, she goes out into Nature, seeking her own personal vision. She considers her art to be inspired by and co-created with Nature. By using photography and developing it further through digital media as a creative tool Gabler’s goal is to add a new dimensions and possibilities to physical reality, which exist there in potential, remaining invisible until the artist’s inner eye discovers them. Gabler calls her images “transcapes,” because they are landscapes transfigured by her artistic vision.

Michael Phillips and Douglas Paisley, after Wm. Blake. Songs of Innocence, Frontispiece.

A Singer’s Notes 73: Michael Phillips’ Reproduction of a Blake Print

Dear Reader,

I want to share one of my treasures with you. You will find below a plate from William Blake’s “Songs of Innocence and Experience” which gets as close to the real thing as can be. It was made by Michael Phillips and hand painted my admired friend, Doug Paisley. I am no expert on how this is done, but I can tell you that Mr. Phillips is.

Guercino (Cento 1591–Bologna 1666). The Triumph of Galatea, Pen and brown ink with brown wash, squared in black chalk, with later framing lines in pen and brown ink.

Drawn to Excellence: Renaissance to Romantic Drawings from a Private Collection, at the Smith College Museum of Art, September 28, 2012 – January 6, 2013

If you wander around Sotheby’s and Christie’s during old master week with open ears, or if you converse a bit at a conference like the delightful and enlightening symposium held for the inauguration of the present exhibition, you are likely to hear some words about the disappearance of good drawings from the market, the ongoing retirement of dealers, the paucity of new ones to take their place, the scarcity of collectors, the resistance of museum directors and boards to these elitist and esoteric artworks, and, ultimately, the demise of the collecting of old master drawings—whereupon the interlocutors stare into space, as if they were on the deck of the sinking Titanic. If this were true, drawings would always continue to be available to the public and scholars, but the heart of the organism would be dead. The circulation of fresh blood—i.e. drawings—would have ceased.

Michelangelo Buonarroti, Sistine Chapel ceiling, 1508-12.

Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel: Celebrating Five Hundred Years of the Greatest Vision of Hope

Sprawled across the east wing that stretches from the papal residence to the Vatican Museums is an inscription commemorating one of Pope Julius II’s most important contributions to the complex now known as the Apostolic Palace: IULIUS II PONT MAX LIGURUM VI PATRIA SAONENSIS SIXTI IIII NEPOS VIAM HANC STRUXIT PONT COMMODITATI. The text is ambiguous in that “VI” may signify the ablative case of the word vis meaning power or strength, or it may stand for the Roman numeral “6.”

Turner, Moonlight, a Study at Millbank, exhibited 1797.

Turner at the Tate

A penny for the old guy. The original London Eye wasn’t a Ferris wheel on the Thames but J.M.W. Turner, whose visual genius and all-encompassing vision engulfed everything in its path. Until the electroshock treatment applied by Francis Bacon, generations of British painters were subsumed by him. Paying obeisance to the great man is both a duty and a delight when visiting Tate Britain, and now the Turner galleries have been completely rehung for the first time since the mid-Nineties.

Damien Hirst Retrospective at the Tate Modern

No British artist in living memory has achieved the glaring notoriety of Damien Hirst. As a teen-ager his idea of a fun photo was posing next to the swollen head of a corpse in a morgue. In the photo he grins with crazy intensity, and ever since then his aim has been to dazzle with disgust. One imagines that he wanders the streets in an acid-green spotlight waving off paparazzi the way Orestes waved off flies. In fact, flies figure into several of Hirst’s pieces. One is an installation in which maggots are eating a skinned cow’s head. Another is a black disc mounted on the wall made of resin and squashed houseflies. The repellent is Hirst’s muse.

Douglas Paisley, from The Confidence-Man. Courtesy the artist.

The Confidence-Man, a series of Melvillean Dreams by Douglas Paisley, now on View at Arrowhead through October 15

When I began to receive promotional material from the City of Pittsfield about a summer-long celebration of Herman Melville last spring, “Call Me Melvile,” I anxiously surveyed Melville’s chronology in one of the Library of America volumes I have on my shelf, looking for some date worthy of commemoration by this busy series of events, and I found none. In 1812, Herman Melville was not yet born. In 1862, nothing happened, except for the continuing decline of his literary and fiscal fortunes as well as his mental state. The following autumn he was to leave Pittsfield for good, much to his sorrow, trading his beloved house, Arrowhead, with his brother for a brownstone in New York City. In 1912 Melville remained in obscurity, the Moby-Dick revival still in the future. Perhaps 1852 was the key year…?

Patrick Keiller: The Robinson Institute at Tate Britain

Occasionally I’ve thought that in my role as The Berkshire Review‘s ‘London correspondent’ I ought to focus sometimes on things that are more culturally British; unfortunately, I just don’t think much of British culture generally, and with the Olympics now here, decimating arts funding and forcing friends and colleagues of mine out of their homes due to massive rent increases, I feel arguably less inclined than ever to take up the baton for this country.

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