Biennial Brio from the Canton Artists League

Biennial Brio from the Canton Artists League

By Tom Wachunas

    “An amateur is someone who supports himself with outside jobs which enable him to paint. A professional is someone whose wife works to enable him to paint.”  -Ben Shahn-

    “Artists are just children who refuse to put down their crayons.” –Al Hirschfeld-

    EXHIBITION: Art in Bloom – The Canton Artists League 2013 Spring Show, at the Canton Museum of Art, THROUGH APRIL 14 - ALSO see Stark County High School Art Exhibition, THROUGH APRIL 7, 1001 Market Avenue North, Canton,  www.cantonart.org  (330)453-7666. Canton Artists League website at  www.cal.cannet.com

    We often hear ambiguous applications of the terms amateur and professional in categorizing or critiquing art and artists. Depending upon the context wherein the terms are encountered, they can imply something quantitative (objective), qualitative (subjective), or both.

    For example, we might say that so-and-so is a ‘professional’ artist, knowing that making art is his or her sole or primary livelihood. Yet so-and-so’s latest work might be received negatively enough to be snootily called “amateurish” because it doesn’t meet certain conventionalities of excellence. This would be a mis-application of amateur, as if to imply that amateur artists by definition produce works of inferior quality. Conversely, we can just as well praise an amateur’s work for its “professional” qualities.

    Here’s another stretching of definitions: I have, on more than a few occasions, described myself as a professional artist even though I’ve never come close to making a living at it. I simply profess the fact that I have a passion for making art. I’m a confessional professional amateur, wink-wink nudge-nudge.

    So let’s get one thing straight. In this context, amateurs are, as the Latin root of the word clearly reveals, essentially amatores, i.e. lovers – lovers of making art, regardless of their formal training, level of notoriety, or chosen career paths. Could we not, then, regard all practicing artists as being, first and foremost, amateurs?

   In its diversity of stylistic genres, conceptual content, and media, there is an exciting vitality and overall egalitarian elegance about this year’s installment of the biennial Spring Show by The Canton Artists League (CAL). More than other CAL exhibits in years past, this show of 72 works by 43 artists should go far in adjusting some misconceptions that I continue to encounter in varying degrees within the Canton arts community at large. One of those flawed notions is that CAL is a minor conclave of “old fashioned” painters or worse yet, merely a club for impassioned wannabes and hobbyists.

    Sure, there is a strong presence here of historically traditional media and approaches, and masterfully or “professionally” accomplished at that, in many instances. But there is also every indication that CAL eagerly embraces relatively more contemporary manifestations. Works such as the dramatic found- object sculpture by Annette Yoho Feltes, called On That Day She Packed Away The Blindness Of Childhood, or Ruth Koomler’s bedspring and fiber triptych, I Love You More Than, are bold experiments that are nonetheless compelling in their tactile, mysterious lyricism.

    I have simply too many “favorites” to enumerate, though here’s a sampling of other especially resonant works: Li Hertzi’s stunning and intimate seascape Carlsbad Waves, done entirely in colored thread; a photograph by Carolyn Jacob called Ghost Train, haunting and atmospheric; the exquisite aquatint and lithographic prints by Nancy Saulnier; Tom Migge’s whimsical and airy wood sculpture, Boneless Ham, rendered like a kind of geodesic football; and Carol Mendenhall’s small but potent abstract acrylic, Composition/Juxtaposition, a tour-de-force of hot- colored painterly  textures and architectural vectors in tension – my personal choice for best-in-show.

   

    One unexpected dimension of this show is its simultaneous appearance with the museum’s annual Stark County High School Art Exhibition (which ends on April 7). This ranks among the best all-student shows I’ve ever seen, and interestingly enough, every bit as captivating as the CAL show. And like the CAL show, it challenges our superficial distinctions between ‘amateur’ and ‘professional’ from a qualitative perspective. In as much as the student skills demonstrated here are themselves truly spectacular, the show is also a powerful witness to the high caliber of art teachers in our local high schools.

   Viewing the student work brings to mind an intriguing possibility. Joining CAL could very well be a viable option to a whole new generation of local individuals who remain here to pursue and nurture their art. In further advancement of its own vitality and relevance, then, it’s not unreasonable to hope CAL would actively woo, as it were, these future lovers

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   PHOTOS (from top): Composition/Juxtaposition by Carol Mendenhall; Carlsbad Waves by Li Hertzi; On That Day She Packed Away The Blindness Of Childhood, by Annette Yoho Feltes         

A Benediction

A Benediction

By Tom Wachunas

    “…and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, with skill, ability and knowledge in all kinds of crafts – to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of craftsmanship.”  -Exodus 31: 3-5 –

   As Easter Day approaches, when many of us joyfully celebrate the most important Person and Event in all of human history, I prayerfully offer the following for your consideration.

    Heavenly Father, we, whom you created in your image and likeness, with all of our hearts, all of our souls, and all of our minds, thank you for the life you provide for us through the bounty of this earth you called into being.

    We ask that you let us clearly recognize that just as you nourish our bodies, so too you nourish our spirits with our ability to make and savor art.

    We remember, through the inspired writings of prophets and kings, how in ages past you blessed your people with the skills and talent to make music, vessels and structures that celebrated your love for them.

    Thank you, Father, for those among us whom you have gifted to enrich and inspire our lives with their surpassing skills and designing, those who have given all manner of marvelous form to their imaginations, imaginations you invented.

    We ask your blessing on all our artists – that you give them the wisdom to know that they are called to be servants of the creative spark which you bestowed. Bless them with humility and gratitude in knowing they are stewards of your power.

    Finally, Father, bless us all with the discernment to seek out, encourage and preserve the arts that would feed our spirits with your boundless wisdom, peace, and love.

    Amen.

Passion and Perplexity

   Passion and Perplexity

By Tom Wachunas

    “No one has yet written such incoherent music, ostentatious, chaotic, and disturbing to the ear. The most abrupt modulations succeed themselves in a truly repulsive sequence, and some minor ideas, far from any sublime touch, complete the incredibly unpleasant impression.”  - written by a critic in 1806 for the German periodical, Der Freimuthige, on the occasion of the world premiere of Beethoven’s Leonore Overture No.3 -  

    If there is a single idea that remains maddeningly entangled with my overall sense of the March 23 program by the Canton Symphony Orchestra (CSO) at Umstattdt Hall, it is that love is a many splintered thing. For it was largely a theme of love, in wildly diverse applications, that united the three works on the program: Beethoven’s Leonore Overture No. 3, Canti guerrieri ed amorosi (Songs of War and Love) by American composer Claude Baker, and Symphony No. 5 by Dmitri Shostakovich. The evening was a stormy orchestral journey, some of it difficult to navigate, but in the end richly rewarding.

    Not surprisingly, the performance of the Beethoven overture was utterly entrancing. With inspiring clarity, the orchestra wholly embraced the work’s intense pathos and urgent drama of undeserved suffering and the resolute power of heroic love.

    The second selection of the evening was the much touted World Premiere of Claude Baker’s Canti guerrieri ed amorosi, commissioned through Meet the Composer’s Commissioning Music/USA Program, and written specifically to commemorate the CSO’s 75^th Anniversary. Knowing this in advance of the performance, I thought it reasonable to expect an emotionally compelling encounter befitting the occasion. I anticipated a joyful, accessible work that would showcase all the sublime lyrical depth, astonishing technical virtuosity and sonorous aural range of this great orchestra.

    So much for lofty expectations. I do realize that ‘joy’ and ‘accessibility’ are subjective elements which can be, relative to a listener’s experience, completely absent from many contemporary orchestral pieces. And so it is that I found this particular piece to be an arduous conceptual exercise in sonic abstraction of a highly disaffecting sort. In this twenty minute-long, three movement excursion into labyrinthine polyrhythms, tonal dissonances and relentlessly overlapping percussive textures, melody had left the building.

    To be fair, Baker’s extensive program notes effectively illuminated the work’s intellectual thrust. Perhaps a fuller appreciation of its structural and aural complexities depends upon the extent of our familiarity with the medieval and Renaissance vocal compositions (about love and war) that inspired them. Even so, Baker states that he focused his energies on a more visceral presentation of the poetic essence of his source texts as opposed to rendering literal transcriptions of musical content. Consequently, melodic references to the Monteverdi madrigal, or the onomatopoetic song by Clement Janequin, for example, were admittedly minimal if discernible at all.

    While this was surely a challenging work for the audience, it was all the more so for the orchestra. Every section played with an eerily robotic if not riveting concentration and precision as they coaxed bizarre sound effects from their instruments. Judging from the lukewarm audience reception, this sort of musical severity was far too subtle and perplexing to elicit anything like real affection for the material.  Love can indeed be a battlefield. 

    We surely live in an era of cultural tolerance (albeit begrudging at times) for even the most alienating musical experiences, but such was not the case for Dmitri Shostakovich in 1936 Moscow. He was severely denounced and blacklisted by Joseph Stalin for his music that didn’t meet government “standards.” Shostakovich called his Symphony No.5, the final work on this program, “…a Soviet artist’s practical, creative reply to just criticism.”  The composer’s explanation of the work being about “joy of living” was just vague enough to regain his good standing, even though the work is now largely regarded not as an abject apology, but as a bittersweet and ironic skewering of pompous Socialist expectations.

    While there is a sense of Shostakovich’s deep love for his homeland threaded through this symphony, I think of its inclusion here, replete as it is with tumultuous emotionality, as a brilliant vehicle for Maestro Gerhardt Zimmermann to communicate his and the orchestra’s palpable love for the music itself. This is certainly not to presume that the CSO was in any way unsupportive of, or unenthused by, the previous work’s challenges, but simply to place afresh the Shostakovich work in the context of a “practical, creative reply.” 

    And what a bedazzling reply it was! Here was the orchestra at its electrifying best, totally immersed in and committed to soaring expressivity. Even Zimmermann’s demeanor at the podium was especially animated, his every impassioned gesture seeming to inject his musicians with inexhaustible vigor and finesse.

     As the roar of approval from the audience would testify, musical matters of the heart such as this one will trump cerebral experiments every time.

    PHOTO: Maestro Gerhardt Zimmermann

Cathartic Moments from the Canton Symphony Chorus

Cathartic Moments from the Canton Symphony Chorus

By Tom Wachunas

    The Canton Symphony Orchestra (CSO) “casual series” concerts presented in Cable Recital Hall are generally chamber music affairs featuring small instrumental ensembles – duos, trios, quartets or quintets. For scaled-down concerts of this sort, the acoustics in this modest hall, which can seat an audience of approximately 140 listeners, are more than suitable.

    So the first surprise about the concert on March 15 was that it featured a full chamber  orchestra – some 30 pieces – as well as the superb 53-member Canton Symphony Chorus. One might have reasonably anticipated a sound far too deafening for this intimate venue. Surprise number two: Orchestra and chorus, both separately and together, delivered a deeply satisfying aural experience that was clear and balanced in every way.

    The program consisted of five works, four of them by living composers. Each of the selections was part of a thematic arc, described by CSO Assistant Conductor Rachel Waddell (who shared the podium on this occasion with Britt Cooper, Canton Symphony Chorus Director) as a journey through water, earth, and sky. The first piece of the evening was La Tempesta di Mare (Storm at Sea), an overture by Antonio Salieri.  While this work is not a gripping evocation of an aquatic adventure as suggested by the title, the orchestra was nonetheless captivating if not a little understated in its rendering of lush, graceful textures.

    Following this charming work were two brief a cappella choral pieces conducted by Mr. Cooper: Water Night by Eric Whitacre, and At the Round Earth’s Imagined Corners by Williametta Spencer. The text for Water Night is the eponymous poem by Octavio Paz. Whitacre’s  tantalizing and voluptuous music is replete with haunting, achingly sensual crescendos and harmonies at once medieval and modern. The mystical imagery of the last line lingers with a preternatural resonance: “Night brings its wetness to beaches in your soul.” 

    No less resonant is the spirituality of the Spencer work, a full quotation of John Donne’s Holy Sonnet VII. From the initially exuberant call to angels at the last judgment, to the humility of the repentant sinner at the end, the song is startlingly triumphant. The chorus infused both works with all the subtle, poignant tonal expressivity and dramatic sonority that their poetic content demands.  

    Waddell returned to the podium for the evening’s fourth selection, the world premiere of a single movement orchestral work called Lacuna, by Matt Smith. This contemporary composition, as Waddell carefully noted to the audience, is a thoroughly challenging departure from traditional Western classical structures.

     It is indeed a rocky journey - a complex sound tapestry threaded through and through with frenetic dissonances, wildly shifting moods, and colliding textures. Call it an exotic and otherwise atmospheric flow of consciousness, performed here with riveting intensity. There is in this work a relentless sense of quickly traversing difficult, forbidding terrain, and its placement in the program order was an eerie yet apropos portal into distinctly more beatific heights attained in the evening’s final piece or, if you will, final peace.

    Orchestra and chorus offered up a stunning performance of Morten Lauridsen’s brilliant, modern requiem, Lux Aeterna (Eternal Light), which was quite literally soul-stirring. Herein there is no hint of torturous, guilt-ridden sorrow. It is a majestic work, purposed by joyous hope and powerfully enunciated by inspired chorus voices. Our attentions were transported to angelic realms immersed in a light that can only be called Divine.

    In his introduction of the work, Cooper described it as “…a catharsis to sing.” He hoped it would similarly affect the audience.  In the end, his hopes were realized. The audience was elated. And even the angels were jealous.

    (PHOTO: detail from The Annunciation, by El Greco)