Tuesday, July 24, 2012

PAM- July 2012

I've been a member of the Portland Art Museum for years, and I try to catch every exhibit that comes through.  If you haven't visited before, the PAM does a fabulous job selecting themes or artists for their shows, and they integrate a lot of social, cultural, and historical background to add context to the experience.

The headlining exhibit recently was California Impressionism, which I didn't realize was a genre, but the state's landscape is a fitting application for Impressionism's focus on light, space, and motion.  California is such a special place to me, with memories of early childhood in the Bay Area, time on my grandparent's ranch, and visits with my beloved Alice, so the collection evoked a lot of nostalgia, particularly the pieces depicting Northern Californian landscapes of knotty oak and tufts of green and lilac shrubs.



I though the artists were particularly successful in capturing the violet, melancholy shadows in the eucalyptus forests, and I can feel twilight falling over the hills beyond.  This piece below really reminded me of my grandparent's ranch.


My surprise love of the day was an exhibit by Ellsworth Kelley.  He is best known for strong colors and color block themes, but I thought the below series of fruit and vegetable lithographs were fantastic.  


My favorites were lemon and cala lilly.  They are almost a take on still life, but so simple that they really capture the essence of the plants.


The third exhibit was Amanda Snyder, who was a Northwest artist that seems a bit of a chameleon in her work... I never would have known the below pieces were by the same artist.  I liked her energetic interpretation of zinnias, but the clown was scary!










Not So Far


What happens to all that has been misplaced?
Sand abandoned in the pockets of clothes,
Not so much memories, but the presence we know
The arc of her arm, half finished songs
Lilting in the shadows of the world we found.

Childhood was flinging ourselves at whatever
Came to mind- lions, miles, spoken lines,
Our scribbled trail so hard to trace, pushed
By wind-driven tides that gather and part,
Our footprints falling beneath the waves.

Can they be far, these orphaned things?  Can we
Weave them back together like seams of a kite
Caught by the wind and unfurled for safekeeping,
An inverted anchor pulling towards the sky,
Our brokenness singing above the beach.

When the time comes, it won't be hard to find.
We know it's waving, the kite extending from her arms
To ours.  It's not so far, no time has passed,
We are safe- just waiting for it to fall,
For all that's suspended between sand and sky.

- June 2012