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Letters from home

Opening Saturday, May 31, 4-7 PM
Carol L. Douglas Studio/Richards Hill Gallery,
394 Commercial Street, Rockport, ME, 04856
May 30-June 26, 2025
Tuesday-Sunday, Noon-5 PM

Lobster pound, 14X18, oil on canvas, $1594 framed includes shipping and handling within the continental US. This is true nostalgia, since this lobster pound is no longer with us.

Certain places evoke collective nostalgia because they serve as shared universal touchstones. These are places where personal and collective memories intersect. Maine is one of them, which is why I’m calling my first show this season Letters from Home.

Letters from Home opens on Saturday, May 31 from 4-7 PM, at 394 Commercial Street, Rockport, ME. If you don’t stop by for a glass of wine and hors d’oeuvres, I’ll be terribly disappointed. For one thing, I hate leftovers.

Country Path, 14X18, oil on archival canvasboard, $1,275 includes shipping and handling in continental US. This isn’t in Maine, but it’s in the show because country roads and paths are places which inspire that feeling of nostalgia in us.

Collective nostalgia and the meaning of place

Maine is in New England, but it’s too north-woods to be in the top drawer of the social tea chest. (That’s true of much of northern New England, although the Yankee village-square and sugar maple aesthetic is universal.)

Still, Maine is a cultural touchstone of many virtues which we associate with New England. These include community, rugged individualism, self-sufficiency, respect for nature and hard work. I know we now like to adopt a cynical attitude about those things, but I submit that’s a pose. Even when we can’t succeed at them, we still, deep down, admire those traits. Our feelings about them are embedded in our collective nostalgia for Maine.

To most of America, Maine exists out of time. We’re all nostalgic for an America that once was, and the remnant of that exists here in Maine more than many other places. While most of my readers have never even visited my little town (but you should), we all have memories of a time when America had smaller communities, mom-and-pop motels, restaurants that weren’t chains and quieter roads. These memories may not even be from our own generation, but universal images that go back generations.

Larky Morning at Rockport Harbor, 11X14, on linen, $869 unframed includes shipping in continental US.

Places also carry an imprint of history. None of us are old enough to have hauled up cod onto the icy decks of schooners that plied the Grand Banks. However, we understand their importance, and are happy to see them, restored and resting in our harbors.

Not all these paintings are from Maine, because I don’t always paint here. But they’re all of things I think of as universal archetypes from the past. That’s our collective home.

Artists like me are, of course, terrible offenders at promoting collective nostalgia. We don’t do that cynically, or manipulatively. Like everyone else, we feel the pain of loss and change, so we paint what’s disappearing.

Please join me on May 31, from 4-7 PM for the opening of Letters from Home, at my gallery at 394 Commercial Street, Rockport, ME.

Evening in the Garden, 9X12, oil on archival canvasboard, $869 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:

What to wear to an art show

Prom Shoes 1, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $435.

I own one skirt and one dress, but I must combine painting and public events over the next ten days. I Googled what to wear to an art show to give myself ideas. The consensus was:

Men should wear a blazer or sport coat, dress shirt, nice trousers or dark jeans, and polished shoes. For contemporary work, they should wear trendy shirts, slim-fit pants or jeans, and stylish sneakers or shoes.

Women should wear a chic dress, skirt or stylish pantsuit, paired with heels or fashionable flats. For contemporary work, they should wear fashion-forward dresses or outfits, statement accessories, and stylish shoes. I don’t own any stylish shoes.

Libby and Sharon discussing the Neolithic stone circle at Beech Hill (okay, I made that up).

This all reminds me of Chelsea back in the day. My goddaughter and I had gone to Brad Marshall’s and Cornelia Foss’ openings, and were catching our breath on the street. We started to count how many people were wearing those heavy black plastic glasses that were then so cutting-edge. We stopped at a hundred. These people were deeply concerned with what to wear to an art show. Being seen is some people’s raison d’etre.

In Maine, people are not such slaves to fashion. This is a state where we have flannel and Sunday-go-to-meetin’ flannel. At any rate, I don’t care what you wear, just mark these three dates on your calendar, and come out and support us.

I am very grateful to Coastal Mountain Land Trust for being so welcoming to my students.

Friday, July 12, 2024: Painting in Paradise student show, 5-7 PM

I’m teaching my first of this season’s workshops this week. Since my gallerage (my own coinage, and I like it) is now open, I will be showing their work on Friday evening from 5-7 PM.

The gallerage is located at 394 Commercial Street, Rockport, and we’d love to see you.

This group is keeping me alert, as they’re all very able. I go home every afternoon wondering how I’ll organize the next day’s material to keep them interested. (I never want anyone to go home feeling bored, or worse, ignored.)

If you’ve ever wondered what kind of painting gets done in a workshop, this is an excellent opportunity to find out.

Frequent hydration breaks are a must.

July 18, 2024: Camden Art Walk

Galleries and shops are open all through town. I’ll be at Lone Pine Realty, 19 Elm Street (next to Zoot Coffee). Last month’s Art Walk was rained out, and I went home with cookies, wine, and lemonade, none of which are on my diet. This month, don’t make me drink alone!

Tired painters heading down the hill.

July 19-21, 2024: Camden on Canvas

“Twenty-one notable New England landscape artists will paint en plein air.” I like repeating that, because I am one of those painters. We’ll be at sites in Camden and Rockport from Friday morning, July 19, to noon on Sunday, July 21. I haven’t decided exactly where I’ll paint, but I’ve narrowed it down to either Curtis Island (bring your dinghy) or Fernald’s Neck, unless I change my mind. You can find out exactly where I and the other artists are by visiting the Camden on Canvas Information Tent outside the library’s Atlantic Avenue entrance. Or check my Facebook or Instagram feeds.

The wet paintings exhibit will be open to the public at the historic Camden Amphitheatre, Sunday, July 21, from 1-3 PM. After that, there’s a reception and live auction from 4-6 PM. Tickets can be purchased online for $75 each or by calling 207-236-3440. Proceeds are shared equally between the Library’s Campaign for the Future and the artists.

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:

The last fun time

Iris Blossoms, by Peter Yesis, courtesy of the artist.

On March 6, 2020, Peter Yesis had an opening at the Picker Room of the Camden Public Library. That night, Ken DeWaard introduced us to the elbow bump, which was supposed to replace handshakes and hugs and keep us safe from this new disease from China. It was a dark winter’s night and we were a party of close friends. We laughed and joked and practiced bumping elbows. I wasn’t overly worried; we’d seen this with SARS and Ebola-a whole lot of fuss over nothing.

I flew off to Argentina with my pal Jane Chapin and all hell broke loose (proving that I can’t leave you kids alone for fifteen minutes). Among the first casualties was Peter’s solo show-closed down a day after it opened. After that, we weren’t bumping elbows; we weren’t even allowed in the same room. The library shut down all art shows for the foreseeable future.

A Clear Day, by Peter Yesis, courtesy of the artist.

An abrupt closure is painful for an artist, since we work for a year or more for the materials for a one-month show. The library staff understands this; they offered Peter a reprise date in November, 2021, when life had begun its slow, sluggish return to normalcy.

Cellar Dweller, by Peter Yesis, courtesy of the artist.

Unfortunately, life intervened in another cruel way. Peter was slammed by cancer. He was in the depths of treatment and in no condition to be hawking paintings.

But today he is in remission, and we’re all celebrating with another opening. Let Peter’s annus horribilis end, and let this be the start of his annus mirabilis.

Light on the Water, by Peter Yesis, courtesy of the artist.

Every Canvas Has a Story opens this Saturday, Nov. 5th, from 3:30 PM to 5:30 PM. Enter on the Atlantic Avenue side of the Camden Library; there’s ample parking on the street and in the library lot. The show will be up for the month of November, but I always encourage people to show up for the party.

Still Waters, by Peter Yesis, courtesy of the artist.

Peter’s wife, Kim Yesis, will also be giving a book talk on Tuesday, Nov. 29th at 6:30 PM. She’s the author of Side by Side: Tales from Behind the Canvas. It talks about Peter’s decision to give up engineering for painting. They were in early middle age, which for people with children is a terribly expensive phase of life. Come ask Kim why she didn’t just kill him for the insurance money.

Tried and true, by Peter Yesis, courtesy of the artist.

Peter’s a crackerjack painter; for example, there is nobody around who paints flowers so well. I’m so glad to see him back up and punching his full weight. The paintings in this show are beautiful, and I encourage you to come out and see them in person.