PRIMARY TULIPSrnJoe Anna Arnett, Oil on lii 26″X 22″rnHere is an artist fully engaged in not onl’ the vibrant energy of nature’srnteleological striving for ripeness but also in the creative impulsernof man’s conscious purpose as he reshapes nature into objectsrnfor his use and pleasure. Aesthetic values and virtuosity ofrntechnique can be appreciated on their own, but the’ also becomernthe means by which Ms. Arnett explores tlie sensuality of allrnthe senses: texture, taste, sight, and even smell and sound—thernlast two evoked through fragrant subject matter and complexrn”musical” rhythms of line, bold brush strokes, and daring composition.rnShe encourages us to wonder at the world and at humankindrnb focusing our attention on the small wonders of thernworld and by humans, bringing forth the beauty of both and “stilling”rnthem for our contemplation.rnNothing IS accidental. The title offers us a clue to the painting’srnmeaning. The colors are primar ones—red, vellow, andrnblue—but this is obvious. The choice of a potter’ vase is morernsubrie. The crafting of potterv is an art in its own right: composedrnof clay, scooped from the earth and shaped by human hand, thenrnmade permanent bv fire, hi this ease, the pottcr holds water tornprolong tlie life of the tulips. Water has no shape of its own; it isrngi’en (implicit) shape here by the form of the vessel that holds it.rnAir has no shape of its own; it, too, is perceived as shape in lifern(negative space) bv objects. It is the fundamental “primaries”rnthat we are reminded of—the natural elements of earth, fire, water,rnand air.rnMs. Arnett grows her own flowers and artfully arranges themrn(another art, “Ikcbana”) at the moment of their blossoming,rnwhich suits her design. Peaches and grapes stress nature’s “natural”rnbounty, reminding us of the seasons and of the renewal thatrnoccurs without the presence of humankind. The wood tabicrnstresses the opposite, nature’s bounty of trees transformed byrnman into lumber and crafted into furniture (another art); thernartist raises this latter thought to a higher power by conniiissioningrnall of her picture frames from carved wood (another art) torncomplete and complement her images. Finally, the primary of thernsun: giving light without which humans cannot see and the lifegivingrnenergy without which flowers, fruit, trees, and humansrncannot flouri.sh.rnUNIONrnFrederick F. Hart, Bronze, 20″rnA double nude is rare in contemporary sculpture. When an artistrnpresents either a male or female nude as a single unit—assumingrnit is not a journalistic, literal imitation—we are stirred to examinernthe human condition as it pertains to itself (consciousness) or tornreality (existence). This complex issue is a haunting one, andrndaunting enough. But when another human is introduced into arngroup artwork, the content becomes even more complicated becausernwe must then address the human condition as it pertains tornrelationships. When we are presented only with a male and arnfemale alone, we face the most potent relationship of all.rnBut in Union, Frederick I lart does not wish us to “face” that relationship.rnHe makes double certain we do not misinterpret hisrnpurpose by facing his subjects away from each other. He is interestedrnin projecting a different idea, one that man and womanrnshare not each to the other, but both—as a species—to somethingrnelse. That something else is Creation, the force of creation,rnthe idea of creation. Note the composition. The figures arernjoined at the back as if springing from the same source.rnNote also the aesthetic clues. The patina is golden indicatingrn(perhaps a sacred) light. The anatomy is accurate but slight-rn1 elongated to aehieve a sense of rising; this same effect is furtherrnemphasized by the feet of the figures, which do not touch solidrnground. The surface of the bronze is smooth, the modeling onlyrnlightly articulated, adding to the sense of unresisting movementrnand (as yet) unrealized mortal strength. The entire form is like anrnarroy, pointed in a direction not determined by the figures themselvesrnbut by an ultimate destiny not theirs to choose. There is nornfear. The’ move smoothly, peacefully, aeeeptingly to their fate.rnBEACHCOMBERrnAnthony F’rudakis, Bronze, 21″rnThis work expresses a subtle homage to the Greek heritage ofrnsculptor Anthony Frudakis, but an homage in a completely contemporaryrnmode. Beachcomber evokes the ancient worid bv therndraper}’ of her dress (a Greek gown) but holds us close to ourrnown time bv the style of clothing (a simple summer dress) and itsrnsiKer washed patnia. The female figure is a thoroughh’ modernrnone, taking steps that will cross the line between girlhood andrnwomanhood. Note her sense of self-awareness and new femininityrnas she caresses her long hair with her own fingers, and noticernher clearh 20th-ecntury body—with deep bronze patina connotingrnfree, out-of-doors, sun-kissed health. The linear passages ofrnthe work are full of fluid movement, reinforcing our impression ofrnthe calm rh thm of the beachcomber’s walk.rnThe figure’s bare feet urge us to think of the ocean, a timelessrnand eternal attraction; she holds her sandals in her hand, and wernare moved to consider her relationship to the sea. Gould this enchantingrncreature be a modern Aphrodite, mythical s’mbol ofrnfeminine beauty and love? The homage to ancient Greece gathersrneven deeper meaning; it becomes an homage to the entirernOhmpian family of gods and goddesses shaped in the image ofrnhumankind. It becomes an homage to all women, especially atrnthat magic moment when they step through the rite of passagernthat opens the way to their own blooming. Woman, stepjjingrnfrom the past to the future, setting her footprints upon the sandsrnof time. Ancient and modern themes of beauty, promise, andrnlove are joined in this one Beachcomber.rnBALD HEAD, MAINErnFrank Mason, Oil on canvas, 48″ x 60″rnFrank Mason docs not have time to care if wc skim over the depthrnof his painting’s content, although he would be overjoyed if we experiencernany or all of it. He delivers the whole experience atrnonce; the parts are so flowingly integrated and our spirit is capturedrnso quickly that we, at first, resist contemplation. No title. Arnplace. Does it really matter where? Raw, ragged, raging nature. Arnsurging sea crashes upon rocks of stone in a crescendo of soundsrnthat find their reverberating echo in the vibrant colors of a turbulentrnsky. hi ease we forgot or became blase—or thought werntamed it all—our complacency is slapped into fresh sensibilityrnby the cold, stinging spra, and we are brought again to awe by therngrandeur of it all. We may even sense the solid earth beneath ourrnfeet move slightly from remembrance, now, of hidden powersrnchurning in the center of our planet, which rise and dance to orchestrationsrnof the wind and moon.rnIason’s “Old Master” techniques and passionate brush strokes,rnsweeping lines, swirling forms, and harmonious melody of colorsrnmake us see the sea anew. And the .sky. “Bald Head” is baldrnnature unleashed. Plain and straight. No metaphors here.rnBut there is a sign of man. Notice the boat, its sail barely visiblernabove the foam. Does the sailor have a cho.sen destination, orrnis he lost and challenging nature to keep the boat aright? Bothrnpossibilities are man’s condition. Little by little we are drawnrnfrom the surface excitement of the senses and the sublime spectaclernof the physical world deeper and quieter into humanrnthought. Like a scuba dier who descends from the roaring andrnvhippiiig surface to the silent and still depths of the ocean, we enterrninner realms of realization. Nature and humanity. Existencernand consciousness. Fternal and temporal.rn18/CHRONICLESrnrnrn