I have yet to meet a state capital that is an attractive urban center, and Columbia, South Carolina, is no exception. That being said, my sojourn to Columbia is twofold: to attend the opening of Enid Williams' exhibit "Systematic Chance" at ifArt and to peruse the collection in the Columbia Museum of Art. The latter is more successful than the former, as rainy weather progresses to flash-flooding. While I am able to view Williams' engaging paintings and monotypes, and to meet the owner/director of ifArt, the thought of driving in the dark fog of rain pushes me out the gallery door prematurely.

The scale and scope of the Columbia Art Museum feels familiar, akin to that of the Memorial Art Gallery in Rochester, New York. The museum receptionist suggests that 2 hours will be adequate for touring; I am here from Noon to 3:30pm. Then again, I'm actually reading labels this time around and paying attention to what catches my attention.

Fans catch my attention. Such as the one held by the bride in 17th-century Flemish oil painter Jacob van Oost the Younger's "The Groom Presenting the Bride to His Mother." And another in 19th-century British portraitist Rowland Holyoake's "Portrait of a Woman."

Texture captures my attention, as it must have captured that of Holyoake who portrays a variety - lace, fur, feathers, velvet, satin, beads - with a deftness of technique that is enviable. I often sense that painters are mirroring how we perceive the universe. Up close, our planets are mere paint strokes on a cosmic canvas. The universe we inhabit stretches beyond our field of vision but, with the aid of telescopes, its greater scope unfolds. On the canvas, images coalesce as we step back to appreciate the relationships of paint strokes.

Models catch my attention. Who are these men and women, boys and girls - who are paid a pittance for enduring hours of posing as stand-ins for the Virgin, the saints, and the angels? Who is the young redhead modeling for 17th-century Venetian School painter Bernardo Strozzi in his "St. Catherine of Alexandria"?

Workers behind the scenes capture my attention. Who mines the lapis lazuli later ground into pigment for the Nativity fresco by Sandro Botticelli? What is it like to be required to consider the import of every single detail and choice of color in religious art, such as 15th-century Florentine painter Giovanni dal Ponte's triptych "Virgin and Child Enthroned with the Archangel Michael, and Saints Lawrence, Stephen, George."

While the weather tries its best to dampen my spirits, it is the art that triumphs and buoys me. Engaging art - from Williams' exhibit at ifArt to a sampling of Asian, European, Colonial, Medieval, Ancient, and Contemporary art in the Columbia Museum of Art - provides me with food for thought and inspiration for creating.

As each us installs our work - Stephen Merritt's clay vessels, Loraine Cooley's jewelry, John Dodd's furniture, and my paper fans, we marvel at how naturally and beautifully the pieces complement each other. Planned? In the sense that Merritt curates the Rochester, NY, "Art in June" invitational exhibit by grouping artists, yes. However, after mounting a fan above Dodd's space, little do I anticipate that it is the perfect hue and arching line to reinforce the soaring blue-enameled ceiling lights of his sculptural piece. It is also gratifying to hear repeatedly from visitors' comments that this bit of synchronicity is noticed.

In this venue, I find that successful and emerging artists alike are cooperative and collegial, sharing resources, materials, and references. What a pleasant surprise when artists visit (who exhibit during the other "Art in June" weekends) - Jean Stephens, Bill Stephens, Lanna Pejovic, Scott Matyjaszek, Bob LaRossa, Kitty Hubbard, Doug Withers, Craig Wilson, Raphaela McCormack, and Jonathan Merritt; each wishing us well, as we do the same for their endeavors. As this weekend's artists (June 14-16), we are eager to direct visitors to each other's finely-crafted pieces: Merritt's fired and stacked sculptural maquette, for example; Cooley's recently completed topographically-inspired wrist cuff, Dodd's Neighborhood of the Arts sculptural bench maquettes, and my Asian-inspired cradled wood collages. The artistic community's camaraderie seems boundless.

This fellowship is just one of the many intangibles that count, especially when art attendance and sales are slower than usual. Still the economy? Perhaps. The weather? We cannot blame the weather, which has switched from heat and precipitation to allow a balmy backdrop for the annual event. Art saturation? Repeat visitors/collectors are a staple that artists count on, and for which we are grateful. Aging audience? There was mention of a cartoon showing an arts and crafts fair where all of the participants were not perambulating unaided, instead arriving with the ubiquitous "walker." No more wall space? A legitimate reason, although I do recommend periodic rotation of artwork to freshen the interior landscape. Obligation to purchase? Not so. Being privy to objective reactions to new work is priceless to exhibiting artists. Responsive audiences can affirm art directions or propel artists into others. Father's Day? That might account for Sunday. Inexplicable reasons? Absolutely possible.

Nonetheless, it is always the goal that a piece will find a new home other than the studio of its birth. I heard from several collectors just how much the pieces purchased in previous years continue to be enjoyed. Good news for artistic ears. Another sound that is welcome is news of content and successful students, whether or not their profession remains in the art field. A number of "Art in June" exhibitors are active or veteran teachers/instructors/faculty; a visit from current or former students always elicits a smile and lively conversation. And sometimes a tear. My eyes well tears upon sighting the mother of a former mentee in the pARTners program, where I mentored her beautiful daughter. The mother is also a current student in Cooley's jewelry class at the Memorial Art Gallery's Creative Workshop, and the three of us delight in our connections. Still the heart tugs, as her daughter is no longer with us.

Family, friends, colleagues, students, and newfound connections; sunshine, lush greenery, fresh air; fine art that epitomizes the medium; intelligent, sensitive, and thoughtful conversation; hugs, sighs, and laughs. All of this and more carries my artistic spirit aloft, especially along the almost 900 miles of my return trip south. Intangible, invaluable.


Links: Loraine Cooley, John Dodd, Stephen Merritt

My last visit to Charlotte, North Carolina, involved a day trip to Discovery Place with a then-pubescent son. More than a decade later, I am bypassing the science museum enroute to The Mint Museum Uptown. By the end of the day, my legs will have transported me to the Bechtler Museum of Modern Art, under the arching legs of Niki de Saint-Phalle's “Firebird,” and around the Harvey B. Gantt Center for African-American Arts and Culture. Each is housed in modern architecture full of natural light; the three museums are part and parcel of the Levine Center for the Arts, and lie within a quarter city block. Really.

Current exhibitions range from Gantt's gallery brimming with colorful Jonathan Green paintings celebrating South Carolina coastal culture; to Bechtler’s “Artistic Relationships” juxtaposing works by friends such as Miro and Calder, and lovers such as Tinguely and de Saint-Phalle; to Mint's “F.O.O.D. – Food, Objects, Objectives, Design” showcasing everything from melamine to bamboo. Usually I am a bit glazed over with this volume of museum input, but today’s experience gently energizes.

Although I was grateful for the Mint’s array of benches as my torso began to swirl alongside Jennifer Steinkamp’s video “Orbit 12.” The artist describes the installation as “the depiction of the celestial mechanics of a planet spinning through its year. Various trees with their leaves and flowers are blown by turbulent winds conveying the passage of time.” Once seated, the piece mesmerizes. Check out the quick-time movie on her site to glimpse the sensation and scale (http://jsteinkamp.com/html/body_orbit.htm).

With notebook in hand, I jot down the works that catch my attention, that make a connection, or artist's names that I will research later. An enthusiastic Mint Museum guard points out his favorites, complete with interpretations of the massive installations and sculptures; I am tickled to see a guard who so visibly enjoys his work and engages with museumgoers. Individual galleries at the Mint are devoted to finely crafted and designed pieces, and organized by medium: glass, wood, metal, clay, paint, paper. I overhear a visitor who disappointedly comments, "There is a lot of museum here but not much art." Silently I differ; true to my own preference, the 5-story, 145,000 square-foot structure offers a perfect spaciousness in which to observe and absorb. Ahhh…breathing room.

There is, however, a minor disappointment at the Mint when I encounter my first Anne Truitt 1970s sculpture, “Night Wing,” and find either the sculpture or the lighting inadequate, especially after reading her published journals explaining the multiple layering of paint to produce the saturation of color. Whatever the cause, the display fails to fully illuminate the depth of this layering. It is also at the Mint that I learn more about a favorite collage artist and native-born Charlottean, Romare Bearden.

At the Bechtler, my discovery involves the Giacometti brothers: Alberto, Diego, and Bruno. I learn that younger brother Diego proved invaluable to Alberto as model, advocate, and production assistant. It is a reminder that art is not always as solitary an endeavor as some artists experience or as some viewers imagine.

At the Gantt, it is Jonathan Green's 1996 lithograph “Noon Wash” that totally dominates my attention. Green's deep blues capture the Carolina sky and ocean, his verdant greens the wavering sea grass, and his lyrical style the wind-billowed dresses, sashes, aprons, and sheets that comprise the coastal women's world. The exhibit presents the evolution of the artist's style; his ability to portray figure and portrait, as well as reduce these elements to their minimum. “Noon Wash” is rich in its simplicity: a white dress melts into the sheets on the clothesline and contrasts dramatically with the dark silhouette of arm here and leg there.

It is one thing to read art history, to gaze at photographs of sculpture and paintings, or even to hear lectures complete with PowerPoint images; it is quite another to stand in front of - or in the case of de Saint-Phalle, under – an actual artwork. There is no experience like direct experience. For a person who is self-described as a one-museum-a-day type, soaking in three is quite a feat, but also a treat.

Additional resources: 
Mint Museum exhibition information, www.mintwiki.pbworks.com
Harvey B. Gantt Center, www.ganttcenter.org
Bechtler Museum, www.bechtler.org
Levine Center for the Arts, www.levinecenterarts.org

From a vanity gallery under construction to an artists co-op in a church, my horizon is now expanded as to the spectrum of creative venues available in the Upstate (South Carolina, that is). In my January 8 blog I wrote about Greenville's arts district, so that in all fairness, in this blog I write about Spartanburg's co-op first.

Before our predicted freezing rain hits, I welcome the drive to 578 West Main Street in Spartanburg, keeping a watchful eye for the church on top of a hill (no, I do not have a global positioning system). From both my visit and the website of West Main Artists Co-op, I learn that in addition to printmaking, ceramic and visual arts studios, the building houses a gallery shop and several exhibition spaces, including the sanctuary itself. In fact, Grace Presbyterian Church worships here on Sundays, right in the midst of whatever art is hanging on the walls. In fact, my favorite aspect of this visit is the ninth-grade exhibit in the sanctuary where a reception is warming up, with awkward teens blushing while proud parents and teachers congratulate their efforts. Bravo to the Co-op for hosting this inaugural event!

For the record, the Co-op is a nonprofit organization, funded in part by the South Carolina Arts Commission, which receives support from the National Endowment for the Arts. But the back story revolves around one retired individual who wanted a co-op, this Co-op. Participation requires of members the euphemistic "sweat equity" - which translates into carpeting, painting, and cleaning - alongside a commitment to be active in a committee or two. Reasonable enough in exchange for camaraderie and modest studio rents.

Speaking of, I was informed that the small studios are the size of a typical Sunday school room, but honestly feel not much larger than a walk-in closet. The spaces do vary and I find the airiest, light-filled studios located on the main floor. While the stairway carpets are a well-worn religious red and there is a bit of mustiness in the air, I do see evidence of a genuine effort to keep total funkiness from taking over the three levels. I am - and the general public is - invited to return for Spartanburg's Third Thursday Art Walk. I hope the weather cooperates on February 21.

On yet another sunny cold weekday I meet Levis Cormier in front of 1243 Pendleton Street in Greenville's arts district in what has been described as a city-assigned "poser name," the Far West End. A series of buildings, including the one in which Cormier is investing, are undergoing a transformation inside and out. Les Beaux Art - essentially a vanity gallery - is set to open at the end of March, according to Cormier.

Inside, workers are busy mounting and plastering drywall booths, for lack of a better word for the three-walled spaces lining both gallery walls, including v- and x-shaped booths in a central aisle. The booth design seems to be modus operandi for the selling of antiques but appears to have wound its way into the art retail world as well.

Not familiar with vanity galleries? Here, the artists rent wall space at $9 per linear foot, so that a 6-foot wall costs $54 per month, or a 6x8x6-foot booth goes for $180. Plus there is a 10 percent commission on sales, handled by one paid staff person located at the front of the gallery during open hours. I am not promoting nor am I commenting on this type of arrangement, just providing the facts.

Although I credit myself with a vivid imagination, it is a stretch as Cormier and I gaze out the back door onto the sodden earth where exterior studio walls are architecturally staked. A door here, several studios and a communal coffee station there, plus a teaching studio over there. Another back door will open onto a parking lot, currently a grassy patch. Cormier exudes enthusiasm for the arts and for artists, for the future of this ever-evolving neighborhood. If interested, I suggest contacting Levis Cormier.

Next week I will visit a another studio space available for rent in Travelers Rest, a second-story three-windowed former hospital nursery. My horizon will be expanded yet again, my search for a perfect studio continues. In the meantime, I hope the sunset paints the sky in those luscious peach and mediterrean blue hues again, just as it did today.