ART Around

Roy Boucher is exhibiting hand-colored photographs and giclee (a new print process) prints in an exhibition at Cloud 9 restaurant (234 Rehoboth Avenue, Rehoboth Beach) through August 15th. The show fits so well into the restaurant space that it seems as if it might be on permanent display-a notion re-enforced by his Cloud 9 giclee, one of the first to sell. Roy’s well-attended opening reception found a number of works quickly captured by the collectors in the crowd. Do not despair, there is still plenty of opportunity with a number of the works available in editions of 200 and Roy’s publisher just down the street at First State Photo!

Boucher’s three works-Cannon Beach, North Shore (Oahu’s, not ours) and RBYCC are all giclee prints of 35mm photographs. Each exposure carries a hint of ancient green in its mix of blacks and grays and transforms into a redolent landscape as your eyes adjust to the depth of the scenes. Evocative atmospheres and moods create wonderful and startling senses of place. They remind us of the best of European and American black and white photographic landscapes of the last century, but that judicious hint of color brings the spirit of this century into an expression beyond the confines of the traditional dark room. It will be very interesting to see where Roy takes this new range in his photography.

The rest of the exhibition is more playful and fun-loving with Boucher up to his usual hand-coloring high jinks. His red, white and blue send-up of Las Vegas’ Treasure Island spoofs faux architecture down to its spray foam foundations. Several local scenes-October on Poodle Beach and Beach Bouquet-round out the exhibition in a charming display of Boucher’s ability to seek out little corners of Rehoboth in an altogether different, often overlooked, light.

The British photography team of Edwin Low and Jonathon Anderson opened their second exhibition at the Edward Carter Gallery (The Inn at Canal Square, 122 Market Street) in Lewes on July 1. On display there through August 1, it coincides with their show at The National Portrait Gallery in London and the publication of two new books Athlete and Gymnast which debut in America at the Edward Carter Gallery in Lewes.

There is a very dry and ascetic quality to even the richest of their portraits and, conversely, a distance and aloofness to the most contrived set-ups in their repertoire. All of it yields engaging work because, the works you are strongly drawn to rather defy actual explanation and the works that seem to have no real appeal nag you for another chance. Part of that comes from a pervasive pristine light that seems more akin to Renaissance Italy than contemporary England. All of these photographs exhibit an ancient air, as if the acrobatic and gymnastic twists and turns of these athletes have propelled them back in time. Yet, the more straightforward portraits seem incredibly fresh and new-somehow different, even with their classically derived postures. The nudes are starkly revealing and incredibly reserved-stunning in their denial of outright sexuality. These are bodies exposed as the serious tools of international competition they are meant to be. As such, we can only marvel at their determination and will-even as we hope to see them at Sundance in September, should they ever be allowed out of the training rooms.

Among the many fine photographs, two seem especially noteworthy to me: the portrait of James Gregory, (modern pentathlete, USA) shows him in his fencing uniform, his mask engaged and fully covering his face. It is his demeanor and attitude which hold our gaze and in a few moments we glimpse beyond the mesh to see the hint of an eyebrow and the arch of a nose-him, hidden and haunting. In Kevin and Andrew Atherton the photographers capture two brothers (one must assume) in syncopated handstands on parallel bars. Their toned, taut and extended bodies echo each other in parallel positions. The only unruly notes in this otherwise perfect scene are the loose, insinuating folds of their gym shorts as they mound, gather and otherwise define the sex of these two stunning men. Even so, and though only inches apart, there is nothing to suggest anything other than business as usual for these two. I am intrigued at how Low and Anderson keep such notions at bay. Perhaps that explains why Bruce Weber, whose work is imbued with such connections, has chosen to collect these photographers. He’s probably wondering too. Am I imagining it, or do the precious few photographs of women in this exhibition never quite go anywhere? Hmmmm.......

Kirk McBride of Berlin, Maryland has a beautiful exhibition at Peninsula Gallery (520 E. Savannah Road) in Lewes. The show is called The Hour Before Sunset but, with a few dawns in evidence as well, it is clear that McBride’s principal interest and abiding talent is in capturing the evanescent quality of light at whatever end of day he chooses to paint. Throughout the exhibition-in tropical light, woodland light, beach light, town light or country light-McBride’s best works wed real technical skill to a beautiful paint handling in the making of very satisfying and assured works of art.

The Golden Field captures the edge of evening embracing the American landscape, natural in its beauty. On the one hand, it is a simple and direct scene and, on the other, it becomes a metaphor-iconic and noble as a George Inness landscape of the eighteenth century. Sunrise and Vine catches the deep purple shadows of a streetscape in silhouette to the glowing light at its end. Romantic and poetic, it is never sappy. Marvelous, dancing brushstrokes orchestrate a free and natural paint handling that carry the scene and create the depth of space. Like all good work, one senses more detail in the picture than there actually is. The artist engages you aesthetically and you help him complete the view. So it is with Last Light in the Orchard, a nocturne at its best. Beyond the hillside orchard, the red roof of an otherwise hidden house populates this farm. The creation of time and mood and place are completed by the detail suggested in the convincing, overall paint handling. Ultimately this show is about McBride’s ability to wed paint to his pictorial vision and, for the most part, it succeeds very well.