Sundart

This morning I thought I’d see what Danna Ray, one of the artists I used to follow a few years ago, has been up to. When I clicked through her current portfolio I was surprised how much her work has shifted away from the mysticism/magical realism that was so central to her style. Now, she’s painting much more realistic landscapes without the bursts of light and fog that blurred the boundaries between the human and the natural world. The shift is reflected in her artist’s statement. Ray used to, “aim to record small ephemeral moments that explore our interactions with the natural world and the inherent connectedness of all things.” Her statement now reflects the grounded nature of her current paintings, “ My work is influenced by an attempt to connect with the land by exploring wild places on foot.”

I’ve somehow gotten away from a mystical side of myself too, and I haven’t experienced a magical sense of the world, which I only really find when I immerse myself in nature, in quite some time. So many people equate the word magic with spells and card tricks, but what I mean is a sense of awe and wonder that I find in the tiny details of moss, the range of colors on acorns, and the smooth flight of a great blue heron. I think moving to the city, plunging into a very crowded work atmosphere, and dealing with the daily despair of the news and so much going wrong in the world has separated me from that sense of awe. Danna Ray’s newer paintings show contentment and a sense of grounding, which is healthy, but I want the mysticism of her older paintings back in my life. Maybe it’s time to put aside the newspaper and all the chores and make it a priority to get back into wilder landscapes on a more regular basis.

This weekend I visited The Hudson River Valley for the first time. It was absolutely beautiful and full of so many villages and historic houses that I couldn’t see them all in one trip. With NYC only a quick train ride away and the Catskills spiked with fall colors in the background, what more could you ask for? It was blustery most of the time that I was there, and when I got back home Elizabeth Bauman’s cool, yet rich portraits reminded me of my trip. 

I love the timeless quality of Bauman’s subjects, many of whom seem like they could have lived in the mansions I was touring as the families who owned them struggled to maintain their wealth during the depression, or could have just as easily been standing next to me on the tour in 2015. The flat quality of the paintings gives them a simplicity that seems to fit the subjects’ contemplative moods. At the same time, the texture of the brush strokes and slight hints of expression in the faces adds depth and complexity, which makes me want to know more about both the subjects and the artist. 

I came across William Edmunds’ work while scrolling through pinterst and was surprised to see that these two pieces are so different from the rest of his art. Edmunds works in just about every medium from illustration to ceramics to fabric, but these two commissioned illustrations stood out to me because of their level of detail and intentionally unfinished quality. I love when the subject of piece blurs in with the ground in some way, for example how the furniture in these pieces seamlessly merges with the paper they are drawn on. It adds a slightly magical realist feel to the work, as if the scenes could disappear into the paper when you aren't looking. Edmunds is a freelance illustrator and designer based in Leeds and works with a group called Nous Vous. Check out more of his work on his blog and portfolio.