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| Noah with S. Betz Gallagher's painting of Roscoe |
This chilly Saturday evening in
late March of 2012, while doing double-duty as babysitting grandmother and
artist, and the hand of my seven-year-old grandson, Noah in mine, we enter
Cobenick Studios/CS Gallery in Olde
Towne East, a historical inner-city
neighborhood in Columbus, Ohio, and only two blocks from the city’s
prestigious, Columbus College of Art and Design. As part of the artist’s reception, artists
and visitors will chit-chat and munch from large plates of veggies, fruits, and
cheeses, and sip beverages while viewing paintings and photographs adorning the
walls of the place. While four
of the
paintings are mine, the others are the creations of some of my fellow members
of the Grove City Arts Council, a body of work that is evocative of the
far-reaching artistic talent to be found in the vibrant arts community of
Central Ohio.
Aware
that the little one will become restless long before the official hour of
closing, a circumstance that will lead to our early departure, I make a point
of arriving just as the doors of the establishment are opened. My hope is that it will also give me an
opportunity to talk privately with Daniel Colvin (WWW.COBENICKSTUDIOS.COM), the owner
of the studio/gallery for the purpose gaining more information about him to
include in this commentary. I load up a
plate of munchies for Noah, find an out-of-the-way place for him to sit, and
keep my fingers crossed that
he will remain content while I speak with Daniel.
I
am always impressed with how much Daniel Colvin reminds me of a young Peter
Sellers, but unlike the actor, Daniel sports pitch-black hair bundled into a
ponytail beneath a canny Fedora.
Tonight, as always, his goateed face is open and welcoming, his manner friendly
and effusive. An artist in his own
right, a small corner of his gallery is reserved for his handmade paper
creations, the impressive collection separated from the larger gallery by a
screen of his own making, a screen with an Oriental flavor fashioned from his
handmade papers and painted black wood. Son
of a
local musician, Daniel’s love of all things creative began with that
influence from his father, and as a young boy, Daniel loudly demonstrated his
characteristic enthusiasm for the aesthetic side of existence on a set of
drums. As maturity wrought a subtle
quieting of his nature, he chose to pursue fine art instead of music. A graduate of the Columbus College of Art and
Design, he is now a substitute art teacher in the Columbus Public School
System. He also teaches ballroom dancing
among the artwork in his studio/gallery, having honed his chops on the dance
floor at Fred Astaire Dance Studios.
Daniel’s
artistic flare is evident in the manner in which the artwork is displayed on
the four walls of his studio/gallery—they are hung asymmetrically and carefully
grouped with compatible pieces.
Displayed all alone on the wall at twelve o’clock high as you enter the
place, a perfectly lit space that harkens, “Hey! Look at me!” is a fantastic pastel. My chat with Daniel concluded, I quickly look
over my shoulder to make sure that Noah is alright and I approach the
piece. A shining rendition, it is a flawless
blend of warm and cool tones on a slope of a mountain reflected
in a body of
water drawn by Edith Dinger Wadkins (http://edithd.wadkins.carbonmade.com). After a perusal of the other pieces, I cast
my vote for Edith’s pastel as the Best of Show, but at the end of the evening
when all of the votes are counted, my acrylic painting of a restaurant scene in
New Orleans will win the prize.
Seldom
am I presented with a clear-cut choice as to the best piece of art, and this
night is no exception. The paintings executed
by Mary Ann Riggle and Rose Motsch always capture my
eye and vie for my vote. Biological sisters, as well as sisters of the
soul, they also share an artistic sensibility—both of them are accomplished
interpretive/abstract artists whose vividly colored canvasses fairly jump from
their respective places on the walls and dazzle you.
Septuagenarian,
Betty Dingledine, the perpetual correspondence secretary of our organization,
as well as a young-at-heart artist, takes continual art classes and paints at a
feverish pace, exhibiting works of art that sometimes almost blow my mind. This night an abstract of geometric shapes
that is a departure for her, I find particularly appealing.
Husband and wife
team, European-born Hans and American-born Kathy Pearce-Mueller,
his
descriptive Old World photographs and her sensitive watercolors, are a perfect
amalgamation
of this good-natured and talented couple. It is my first time to view their work, and I
hope not the last.
Botanicals
are the theme of the watercolors submitted by Sommer House Gallery owner, Rebecca
Sommer (www.sommerhousegallery.com),
each painting so delicately and precisely rendered by her steady hand that they
appear three-dimensional, deceiving your eye into
believing you can reach into
them and pluck their petals. Rebecca and
I stop to chat although by now Noah is tugging on my jacket and asking what it
is we are doing here. The introductions
accomplished, Rebecca inquires of my grandson, “Which piece is your favorite,
Noah?” He looks
at her as if she has
just sprouted two heads, his quizzical eyes darting to mine. I realize some interpretation is in order
here. “Which picture do you like best?”
I add. A shrug of his shoulders is his
only reply. “I think I’d better get him
another plate of food, Rebecca.
Hopefully it will occupy him for a few more minutes.”
The pictures submitted by four brilliant
photographers make a dynamic showing on this festive evening, the style of each
one as distinctive as if they had been rendered line-by-line by precise hands
of fine artists rather than captured in the lenses of cameras. Dreaming Tree Galleries owner, Rebecca
Cummings (www.dreamingtreegalleries.com)
portrays symbols of life in her work: dreamy
interiors, quick or tucked-away or secretive glimpses of cultural artifacts of
humankind made immortal by her Canon.
Long and color-saturated views of spare landscapes against
dramatic
skies fill the acid-on-metal photographs by Randy Vermillion (WWW.RRVIMAGES.com),
his larger-than-life
images mirroring his towering and lean persona.
A more traditional approach
is taken by Mark Marshall (http://markmarshallphotography.zenfolio.com)
whose photos of
rugged old mills and peaceful country lanes are the type of
images people like to hang on their
walls to evoke pleasant childhood
memories. Lenny Gerstein (find him on
Facebook under Picture-It-Through-Windows) seals his photos of lighthouses and
other structures, as well as landscapes,
in salvaged window frames, some of
them still adorned with original hardware—a unique and ingenious display.
Young
Austin McClellan, a recent honors graduate from the Columbus College of Art and
Design, is represented by an artful quadtych—this submission is just one more
example of her clever artistic eye. One
of the four small canvasses is of a little bird. “Look, Noah!
It’s a cute little bird.” “Oh
yeah. It is a cute little bird. But Grandma…what’s that?” he inquires,
pointing a grubby finger toward Betty’s neighboring abstract. I hurry him to the restroom and wash his
sticky fingers and crusty mouth, feeling remorseful over the strawberries I had
piled on his latest plate.
S. Betz
Gallagher, Suzanne to us, (www.TheRoscoeRoom.com) is a full time artist
specializing in portraiture and figurative paintings in oil (of humans and of
animals), although she excels in any genre that she tackles. Early in May opening her own studio/gallery
two doors north of here on the corner of Oak Street and Parsons Avenue, this is
a fulfillment of her lifelong dream. Stay tuned for
my official announcement of the opening. This night, however, Suzanne still occupies a
small studio/gallery that is an anteroom to Daniel’s. Recalling Suzanne’s several paintings of dogs
and cats adorning the walls of her space, I hurry Noah to the back of the
building where Suzanne, in her characteristically charming and gracious manner,
is holding court.
I am so relieved
to see that Suzanne’s space also features a wicker settee decked out with
copious decorative pillows, the perfect spot in which to ensconce my grandson
for a few minutes. Within arm’s reach of
the settee are three more platters of finger-foods: nuts, cheeses, fruits, vegetables, little
cookies and cakes. Noah’s pristine
fingers immediately begin to probe their contents. “Okay, honey.
Grandma will make a plate for you in a minute,” I tell him, pushing his
fingers away from the juicy little tidbits of gastronomic delight. “But first, let’s look at the pictures of the
little doggies and kitties. And look at
that great big one over there!”
“OH…MY…GOD!” Noah yells,
the heel of his hand slapping his forehead.
“I’ve never
seen anything like
this in my whole life!” he declares, his arms thrusting into the air. He rushes to Suzanne’s huge installation
piece, a torso of her dog, Rosco, a work
of art executed on forty-two
12” x 12” canvasses. Again, Noah’s fingers
begin to probe…he needs to touch this piece of art. “Don’t touch the art, please, Noah,” I instruct
him as I snap a photograph of him with Rosco.
Noah’s third
plate of food consumed to the smallest crumb, and his voice beginning to whine
with his entreaties to go home, it is apparent that it is time to depart this
artist’s reception. We say our goodbyes
and as we emerge onto the sidewalk of the street, I say to Noah, “It’s a good
thing they had all of that food to eat or else you wouldn’t have been able to
get through this evening, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s a good thing, or I would have been bored out of my mind,
Grandma!”
Worried about
his consumption of so much food, I inquire, “How does your tummy feel?” “It’s okay,” he replies off-handedly. He climbs onto a three foot high wall of
brick and concrete that borders the parking lot and scoots along the top of it
on his backside. “Maybe a little hungry,”
he adds as if he’d given the matter serious consideration. “A little hungry?” I retort in
disbelief. “Yeah…a little hungry. I’m just a growing boy, Grandma. I just don’t ever stop eating, almost,” he
explains as he jumps from the wall to the pavement. I hold my breath as I always do when
witness
to his daredevil pursuits.
The moment we
arrive home, he heads for my refrigerator.
Linda’s next novel, Guardians and Other Angels is almost ready to print. Stay tuned for the date
of its
launching.
