Hemlocks
Studio
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Hemlocks
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Artist/ArtisanSue Byrne Russell
I consider myself a reporter as well as a painter.
My creative passion compels me to record experiences and images that are
part of my life. Call it a diary or call it a sketchbook. One is equal to the
other. A good writer writes about what he/she knows. A good painter paints from the knowledge the creative vision
produces. As I spy on life, I
discover incredible people working with passion at what they know and care
about. My life’s joy is not
merely to record the details but vividly convey the creative impact my
discoveries have had on my life while expressing the passion through the
composition, colors and movement in my paintings. I find it strange that some folks are artists and others
are artisans. One has a studio or
an atelier and the other has a workshop. I
rarely see a difference. Who is the
artist? Who is the artisan?
The only real difference is in the spelling. This series is titled Artist/Artisan.
It is a tale about Jule. He
lives in Oberhof, a German farming community of eleven families not far from my
own village. He is a creator of
musical instruments. He is self-taught, quiet, and enthralled with his work. Working from a vision of old instruments seen in his travels,
books and museums and adding his feelings, ideas and nuances, he transforms
blocks of wood into instruments that produce sounds that are truly more
harmonious because he has put his passion into them. It is difficult to convey in words the feeling one gets when
visiting his shop, hearing his stories and observing his work.
The strength of his desire to follow his spiritual life path can be felt
when you are in the barn he has converted into a workshop.
I have tried to express the elements that capture and hold the focus of
my creative vision when I visit his barn. I
sincerely hope that these paintings will be worth at least a few thousand words
and will stimulate the same wonder I feel for his craftsmanship. The workshop is filled with honey-colored light reflected
from the wood that surrounds him. The
smell of pine and fir, the dust, the wax and the hot grinding of metal mixes
with the dulcimer music on his little stereo box. Sometimes, when I drop by, he is working so intently; he
doesn’t hear me enter. Other
times he is playing a newly completed “Drehleier”, a strangely beautiful
part harp, part bagpipe-guitar with a turning drum, strings and keys. There are dulcimers, wind chimes, door harps, long triangular
stringed instruments, heavy curved trapezoids and ellipses.
Some have carved heads, like those on the bow of a Viking ship, some are
like gargoyles; others are simple planed shapes that carry the curve of the
instrument to the tuning keys. The
room is filled with shapes and lines that surely dance and sway when the saw is
silent and the Musicmaker is away. Why don’t I just take photographs and paint from them?
Photos would show the sawdust and shavings that cover everything in a
pale brown veil. The sawdust would
be more obvious than the energy in the place. My
vision of honey-gold glowing wood and a gentle man who rubs his soul into the
wood he transforms is more vibrant than a photograph. I am not a carpenter, I am not a maker of instruments and I
am not a musician. I am an
interpretive reporter of my life. I
portray what I perceive about this man’s work and the atmosphere in his
Workshop. Although I am primarily a
figure painter, in this series the figure is not always prominent. There are interior views with architecture, still life,
abstract forms, and machines. My interpretation is expressive, realistic, and
abstract. This is my painted
documentary of an artist of wood and music in his atelier.
To Artist/Artisan Gallery I
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