Kind of a big deal

Cecil Touchon, Fusion Series 2611, 6" x 4", Collage

So, thanks to all of your recommendations, this week I purchased Domino: The Book of Decorating to add to my collection of interior design books.  I would highly suggest it.  It is filled with how-to's and great large format color photos of some of the most beautiful rooms I have ever seen.

You can imagine my surprise when I was flipping through Chapter 6, The Bedroom, and discovered a collage by one of my gallery artists, Cecil Touchon!!!  On pages 158-161, there is a feature they dub 'The Domino Effect" that highlights real-life rooms of Domino staffers.  Low and behold, in the graphic designer's bedroom, she has a painting by Cecil Touchon...one of Emily Amy Gallery's artists.  Who would've thought?  

This is kind of a big deal.

A Sadness in Stealing

Vermeer, "The Concert", 1658-1660 (among the 13 paintings stolen in the heist)

Rembrandt, "The Storm on the Sea of Galilee,"1633 (among the 13 paintings stolen in the hiest)

The empty frames that remain in the Isabella Stewart Gardener Museum

A woman glancing at one of the now-empty frames in the museum

Last night my husband and I settled in for an evening of programming on Ovation TV, a network whose tag line is "make life creative."  The network is devoted to championing the visual arts, theater, opera, music and dance.  After briefly catching some of their new series, SOLD!, which is an insider's guide to high stakes art auctions, we began watching "Stolen," an independent documentary film from 2006.  

The film chronicles the history of the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston, focusing on the 1990 burglary, during which the museum suffered the largest art heist in American History. On the night of March 18th, a pair of thieves disguised as Boston police officers entered the museum and roamed the galleries, stealing thirteen works of art including pieces by Degas, Rembrandt, Manet, and Vermeer's masterpiece, "The Concert."  In total, the works are estimated to be valued at $300 million.  Not a single work has been recovered to date and the $5 million reward leading to the return of the artworks is, as of yet, unclaimed.  

This, in itself, is a tragedy.  But, what I found most intriguing about the documentary, was how devastated art historians, critics, collectors, and museum directors were (and still are) about the disappearance of the paintings.  The overarching theme was that of extreme sadness over the loss of the paintings and the opportunity that had been thus stripped from the American public. Wherever the paintings are now, they have not been seen by the public in 18 years.  Those interviewed were so emotional over the loss that most were brought to tears and were pleading to the thieves to please return the paintings so that the public could once again enjoy the European masterpieces.

Similarly, although not nearly as intensely,  I often am saddened when a painting that I love leaves the gallery.  Since most paintings take months to sell, a certain attachment often develops, and although I am always pleased to sell a painting, there is a tinge of disappointment over its loss.  Not only is the painting no longer on view to the ever-growing, gallery-going public; I too will likely never see it again.  

So remember, the next time you visit a gallery or a museum, the paintings that you are fortunate enough to see, at that time on that day, may or may not be there the next time you visit, so cherish them (just as Isabella Stewart Gardner did her collection).

 

A Little Touch of (First) Class

So yesterday I went to my mailbox and was greeted by the regular: bills, bills, and more bills.  Then, something caught my eye.  A postcard!  It was not just any regular postcard either.  It was a postcard from one of my gallery artists, Zuzka Vaclavik, greeting me from Tuscany.  If the image on the front wasn't enough to stir up some nostalgia, on the reverse she had painted a little surprise for me.  It certainly made my day and I am still carrying it around with me.

Postcards have always been an integral part of my life.  Throughout my childhood, every time we traveled my dad would pick up an abundance of postcards.  Then, when I got to college, every week (without fail) a new postcard arrived in my mailbox reminding me of our adventures together over the past 18 years.  I always looked forward heading to the mailbox to find that one treasure amidst the stack of junk mail and bills.  

Coincidentally, as a gallery owner, I send out postcards to hundreds of people every month.  See some examples of invitations above.  These postcards announce shows and invite all of the collectors to join the gallery in welcoming the artists to the city and to view their new collection.  I have been saving postcards that my husband and I have received for years.  They are always a great inspiration.  Apparently the art community in Beacon, NY thinks so as well.  A fellow blogger has begun the "Beacon Art Postcard Archive" which is a catalogue of postcards from all of the local artists, galleries, and studios in the Beacon, NY area over the past five years.  What a great idea.  I would definitely travel to see that collection and maybe pop by the Dia there as well.  Sounds like a trip to NY is in my future.

My Favorite Place

This morning I read an article in the New York Times about Dia:Beacon, the contemporary art museum located in Beacon, New York.  The article discusses how the trip to the museum and the museum itself provide a much-needed calm in this turbulent time.  The space sounds more than impressive and the walkway to the museum sounds as though its not too bad either (offering views of the Hudson and historic bridges that cross over train tracks).  The collection, which is predominantly Minimalist, Conceptual and Post-Minimalist art is likely well worth the trip too.

When pondering where in Atlanta you can find a calming recluse from the hustle and bustle of our city, I immediately thought of my favorite place (other than my gallery, of course), Jackson Fine Art.  Although the trip to Jackson Fine Art is not nearly as picturesque as the train trip from New York City to Beacon, at least you turn off the 6-laned portion of Peachtree Street onto Shadowlawn, which is a lazy old street in Buckhead that still consists of old bungalows lined up one after another that now house galleries, boutiques, cake shops and florists.  And even though Jackson may not be as impressive as Dia:Beacon, it is certainly a safe haven and a head-clearer for any urbanite.