Now, 22 years later, 15 of my photographs are in the permanent collection of the North Carolina Museum of Art. One of them—Reidsville, North Carolina, June 2003—is included in the exhibition Landscape Sublime: Contemporary Photography, which closes November 13.

I have met some very good souls along the way. One of them is Huston Paschal, a long-time associate curator (now retired) at the Museum. When I began exhibiting my photographs in 1990, Huston, unbeknownst to me, started following my progress. I was exhibiting everywhere I could (photographs I’d made on Ellis Island), including the just-opened Cup A Joe on Hillsborough Street in Raleigh and the Weems Gallery at Meredith College. When I began to photograph around the Tar Heel State, Huston quietly watched as my new work—and I—progressed.

On the eve of my 50th birthday in 2003, I received a fateful phone call: Linda Dougherty (the NCMA’s current curator of contemporary art) was on the line. Would I like to schedule a time to bring a selection of my work? She and Huston wanted to see it, with a purchase in mind. Well, happy birthday to me!

I am grateful to Linda and to the NCMA and, now, to Jen Dasal, assistant curator, for including my work in the current exhibition. But mostly I am grateful to Huston, who saw in my work, and in the work of other North Carolina artists she watched grow and mature over her years as curator, something worth paying attention to.

David Simonton is a photographer living in Raleigh, N.C. See his work in the exhibition Landscape Sublime: Contemporary Photography through November 13.

Image: David Simonton, Reidsville, North Carolina, June 2003, 2003, printed 2004, gelatin-silver print, 9 11/16 x 9 13/16 in., Purchased with funds from the William R. Roberson Jr. and Frances M. Roberson Endowed Fund for North Carolina Art, © 2004 David Simonton

Recent visitors to the Museum will have noticed a new addition to the paintings in the American galleries. Dock Builders by George Bellows is the latest promised gift of Ann and Jim Goodnight. Bellows (1882–1925) was one of the most influential and beloved American artists of the early 20^th century. He dropped out of college to play semiprofessional baseball before pursuing a career as a painter in New York. There Bellows studied under Robert Henri and through him fell in with a group of young urban artists. The “ashcan school” advocated painting contemporary American society in all its gritty reality. Though more famous today for his boxing pictures, Bellows painted a wide variety of subjects, capturing the bustle of life around him.

Painted in 1916 during a summer in Camden, Maine, Dock Builders is one of a series of pictures depicting the hard laboring lives of Down East people. It gives a noble dimension to men and horses struggling to move logs into position. Bold, slashing brushstrokes give a sense of movement to this otherwise carefully ordered composition. Bellows’s painterly gusto spills out along the rocks at the bottom as his thick, churning splashes of color encrust the sunlit shoreline. There is a playfulness in Bellows’s handling of the brush. Perhaps the relaxed atmosphere of coastal Maine and the joy of working outside encouraged him to paint more freely. In a letter to Henri, he wrote, “I have done a number of pictures this summer which have not arrived in my mind from direct impressions but are creations of fancy arising out of my knowledge and experience of the facts employed.” Whether it was the sea air or a desire to try new things, it is exciting to see an artist enjoying himself in this “creation of fancy.”

For all the freedom of Dock Builders, Bellows was also experimenting with a systematic approach to composition. The smoothly contoured figures are carefully arranged in an underlying structure of intersecting diagonals. Also, along with several other members of the ashcan school, Bellows was intrigued by the color theories of Hardesty Maratta. Maratta devised a system that assigned each color to a corresponding musical note. He then directed artists to combine colors at prescribed intervals, using “chords” to achieve a harmonious effect. We do not know if Bellows used a color keyboard [see image below] when he was painting in Camden, though it seems likely that he had the balanced triads of the Maratta system in mind.

Combining freedom and restraint, Dock Builders adds something new to the Museum’s galleries. Celebrating men at work, the vibrant colors and innovative technique showcased in this landscape represent a pivotal moment in the history of American art.

Laura Fravel, Curatorial Intern

Hardesty G. Maratta’s color keyboard. From The Maratta Scales of Artists’ Oil Pigments, 1916. John Weichsel Papers, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.

Image: George Wesley Bellows, Dock Builders, 1916, oil on canvas, Promised gift of Dr. and Mrs. James H. Goodnight

Thanks to funding from the North Carolina General Assembly to support character education in K–12 public schools, the ELA section of the Department of Public Instruction and the North Carolina Museum of Art had the privilege of hosting these young people and their teachers for a Character Education Teen Residency Project. Under the leadership of artist Peg Gignoux and writer Susie Wilde, students transformed their ideas into images and words that tell the story of what it means to be a good person. (See photos of the event on Flickr.)

Carolyn Crutcher, an English 10 teacher at New Technology High School at Garinger in Charlotte, N.C., reflects on her experience.

Participating in the residency was such a rewarding experience for my students and me. First, in the words of Moe Win: “I had so many new experiences in a few days. The environment at the NCMA made me feel so creative. As I was an author/writer, I learned so much about showing not telling, revising, and editing for the story. I am not the type of person who likes to work with a team, but I learned that it is more fantastic to work with others. We were discussing and helping each other while writing our story. Another good opportunity was visiting the art galleries. I loved the tours Ms. Rusak guided. The art work invited me to think more about the purpose of the artists.”

Here are Ivan Gaddy’s reflections: “I wanted to go to Raleigh, but I was nervous because this was the first time that I had gone somewhere and spent more than one day without my family. The main thing I was worried about was the way we had to make the art. Before the residency, I had only used pencil and paper for drawing. Also I was afraid that the groups weren’t going to agree on anything. I am so glad that my assumptions were wrong. It was nice hearing the other groups’ stories and seeing how they drew the main character, “Bird.” I liked making the collages out of fabric, and I hope to use that form of art in the near future. The trip was great and I hope to go again.”

For me, as the teacher, it was sheer pleasure to have this time with such talented young people on such a creative project. I spent most of my time with the writing groups, but to my delight, I also got to help cut out fabric for the illustrations and even helped a little with sewing. When we toured the galleries, I was deeply moved by Michael Richards’s bronze sculpture, Tar Baby vs. St. Sebastian, especially when Sandy Rusak told us that Michael died on September 11, 2001, in his art studio in one of the Twin Towers.

I used a picture of the sculpture and Michael’s story to introduce the essential question for a recent literature project: How do beliefs and attitudes affect the lives of individuals? First I showed the students a picture of the sculpture and instructed them to look at it and think about it. Then I had them read about Richards. With a partner they discussed these questions and wrote their answers:

1. What is ironic about the bronze statue?
2. Explain the allusions in the title Tar Baby vs. St. Sebastian.
3. Who were the Tuskegee Airmen?
4. How did Michael Richards’s beliefs and attitudes shape his art?
5. How did the beliefs, attitudes, and actions of the young men who flew the planes 9/11 affect Michael Richards’s life?

When the students completed their research, we had a stimulating class discussion. Although only two of my students were able to participate in the art residency, I was able to share one of the pieces of art with all my students.

In commemoration of the anniversary, numerous galleries and art centers have come together as part of a citywide event, titled “Remembering 9/11: The 10th Anniversary.” All told, more than 50 institutions are partaking in exhibitions, readings, and performances dedicated to honoring those lost in the terrorist attacks. Now that a decade has passed, it seems that some artists now feel that their wounds—personal, physical or psychic—have healed enough to revisit, leading to a proliferation of works.

The Brooklyn Museum is presenting Ten Years Later: Ground Zero Remembered, an exhibition featuring works by two artists, Michael Richards and Christoph Draeger. The inclusion of Richards is especially notable for NC Museum of Art visitors, who may be familiar with Tar Baby vs. Saint Sebastian, currently located in our Modern and Contemporary Galleries. During his tragically short career, Michael Richards frequently addressed issues of social injustice, creating stunning sculptures that criticize oppression. Tar Baby vs. Saint Sebastian commemorates the Tuskegee Airmen, African American pilots whose heroic contributions to World War II were recognized only in the past few decades. The sculpture itself, cast from the artist’s own body, represents a gold-painted airman penetrated on all sides by small airplanes, reminiscent of the arrows shot at St. Sebastian, an early Christian martyr and saint. The title of the work, with its double reference to the saint and a southern folktale of entrapment, pays tribute to the Tuskegee pilots—and to all who suffer intolerance and unfairness.

The back story of the sculpture, though, is a haunting one, and is quite pertinent to the anniversary of 9/11. The work itself, in effect a self-portrait, now seems an eerie foretelling of the artist’s death. Richards was a victim of the World Trade Center terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001—his studio was on the ninety-second floor of Tower One. Tar Baby vs. Saint Sebastian, too, was feared lost in the wreckage, as it was not found in the remains of the artist’s studio, or at his home. It was only revealed later to be stored in a relative’s garage outside of New York City. Now housed at the NCMA on long-term loan, the work is a commemoration of the artist’s life and talents and a memorial, of sorts, for September 11. Stop by over the weekend and include this as a must-see on your list.

Image: Michael Richards, Tar Baby vs. St. Sebastian, 1999, body cast in resin and fiberglass, painted, and supported by steel shaft, with airplanes cast in resin and fiberglass, painted, and attached by steel bolts, On loan from the estate of the artist

I returned to Cebolla in early June while driving with my family to my son’s college graduation in Washington State. (Yes, we took the long route). I left my family in the car while I photographed the somewhat forlorn church which replaced the adobe structure painted by O’Keeffe. (Note to memory: in my earlier blog post I mistakenly described this later church as made of brick. It is in fact faux adobe.) The church was locked so I was limited to peering through the windows. I was pleased to see that several windows had potted plants on the sill, though none resembled the lavish foliage of the “thing in the window.”

BW: What intrigued you about doing a documentary video of the North Carolina Museum of Art’s Rodin collection?

AH: The fact that there were so many new angles. The relationship with a Rodin collector and benefactor to the Museum. Curator David Steel tending and nurturing this collection. Architect Thomas Phifer and director Larry Wheeler working with landscape architect Walt Havener and planning director Dan Gottlieb to develop a new home for the permanent collection. I’m a native to Raleigh and grew up at the Museum. It’s been fascinating to watch the NCMA evolve over time.

BW: The video also provides a glimpse behind the scenes at the thoughtful work being done by conservators, registrars, exhibition designers, and art handlers to bring the Iris and B. Gerald Cantor Court and Garden to life.

AH: Yes, the back story is compelling, but you may not know to ask about it if you aren’t familiar with the workings of an art museum.

BW: The video also documents a moment in time. We’ll never have The Three Shades arriving on a truck and being transported through West Building and out into the Rodin Garden again. It’s nice to have that moment captured permanently.

AH: And the permanence of these gifts to the state of North Carolina makes the story so relevant. The Rodin collection is here to stay. North Carolinians can visit the museum 50 years from now and wonder how these sculptures came to Raleigh—and the video answers some of those questions. That’s why the iPad app is so important, too. It’s another vehicle for sharing information about art with a very global public (at this writing, people in 38 countries, including the Netherlands, China, Russia, New Zealand, the Czech Republic, and Kuwait, just to name a few, have downloaded the free iPad app).

BW: Do you have a favorite moment in the video?

AH: I like watching people get excited about what they do, whether they’re a farmer, a surgeon, or in this case a curator or a conservator. The look on people’s faces when those crates full of Rodins came off the art delivery trucks was a special moment. Another moment was getting to sit down and talk with Iris Cantor about how passionate she and her husband were about building this collection.

BW: Yes, one of my favorite moments is Iris Cantor telling the story of her late husband Bernie first seeing The Hand of God as a marble sculpture at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and how that sparked what he called his “magnificent obsession.” AH: What I love about directing and producing documentaries is how everything relates back to people. Art doesn’t exist in a vacuum; it takes an artist and a viewer responding to that artist. The building didn’t put itself up. The collection didn’t form itself. There are teams of people working to make all of those things happen. As a documentary filmmaker I can bring all of those elements together and help people understand and appreciate the art in a new way. Hopefully we’ve created pathways into the Museum and the art that weren’t there before.

BW: Are there challenges to capturing bronzes on film?

AH: NCMA photographers Karen Malinofski and Christopher Ciccone did a great job working with a variety of sizes, textures, and nooks and crannies within the collection, and it shows. The light in the new building made my job easier. It bathes the bronzes in light in a special way.

BW: I know you spent a whole lot of time at the Museum while it was being built and after the art was in place. There’s a thoughtfulness to your approach that is made visible in the video. The sculptures and the people whose story we tell are very lovingly filmed.

AH: The only way that you can show someone looking comfortable on camera is to spend a lot of time with them and develop a trusting relationship between the camera and that person. Maybe that’s true of art and the camera as well?! Everyone involved was so passionate about what they do, and I hope that comes out.

BW: For technical people who might be interested, what kind of cameras are you using?

AH: The still photos that the staff took were done with a medium-sized camera to capture high-resolution stills for the book and the app. For the filming we used digital single-lens reflex (SLR) cameras because the resolution is high and they’re small and easy to maneuver in and out of tight spaces. You have to be careful about what you’re bumping into at the Museum! We needed to keep the gear and the crew to a minimum but still come up with great visuals. We did use a dolly in the gallery space. We didn’t set up track because of the oak floor, but we used a “doorway” dolly and tried to light each piece to make it look on video like it does to the human eye as a visitor in this unique, naturally-lit setting.

BW: The video is an interweaving of facets of the story, which gives you multiple entry points into the works of Auguste Rodin depending on what you’re interested in.

AH: You can enter the story through one door and find out there are lots of other rooms to discover.

BW: Which reminds me of the multiple entry points into our permanent collection in West Building. You can literally come upon the Rodin sculptures by strolling through the garden, or come in through the front entryway and follow a passageway of classical sculptures toward the Rodin gallery.

AH: To continue the metaphor, both the building and the video give you places to stop and ponder, and places to move through more quickly, opportunities to make new connections between art and nature, and see relationships between art. Hopefully we’ve captured the sense of discovery that is inherent in a visit to the Rodin collection at the North Carolina Museum of Art.

Barbara Wiedemann is Associate Director of Publications at the North Carolina Museum of Art. Art Howard is the owner of ARTWORK, Inc., a multimedia production company specializing in video, stills, and stock.

In honour of the marriage celebration of William, Prince of Wales, and Miss Catherine Middleton, the Museum has placed on view our portrait of Queen Elizabeth II. Rumored at one time to be the sole portrait of the Queen on United States soil, the painting will be on view for a very limited time.

Commissioned to paint a life portrait of Elizabeth II, Winston-Salem artist Joe King sought to convey the “warm and charming personality” of the British monarch—quite a contrast to the imperious boy king Louis XV on the opposite wall. However, when the painting was unveiled in London, the critics pounced, dismissing it as a “Hollywood version of aristocracy.” The British public was generally kinder to the artist’s romantic idea of royalty, though at least one viewer remarked on the queen’s uncanny resemblance to Ingrid Bergman.

Joseph Wallace King, Queen Elizabeth II, 1971, oil on canvas, gift to the State of North Carolina from the Burroughs-Wellcome Foundation, 1972

The mysterious message

“Ô living ones who are upon the earth who shall pass by this tomb of mine, faring north or south, and who shall utter ‘1000 loaves of bread and 1000 jugs of beer for the owner of this tomb—his nickname is Golden Boy,’ I shall intercede for them in the necropolis. But for any man who shall enter this tomb in his impurity, I shall wring his neck like a bird! He shall be judged for it by the Great God.”*

Signed, Golden Boy

Golden Boy’s message might sound rather cryptic, but it’s in fact quite simple. Our glittery friend is inviting you stop by the Egyptian galleries to visit him next time you come to the NCMA.  If you and your family are interested in all things Egyptian, the best day to visit would be April 30, during our A Date with Egypt family fun day!

Come and immerse yourself in ancient Egyptian culture by taking a gallery tour with an ancient Egyptian guide or participating in the archaeological dig (don’t forget your archaeologist hat). You also can dress up as an Egyptian princess or a pharaoh, join in some art-making activities, and meet the NCMA’s only archaeologist. Oh! And don’t forget to say hello to Golden Boy and offer him some bread and beer (his favourite treats) by quietly whispering the following words: ‘hetep dee inek heh tah heh kheneket en kah en nehen neboo’.**

Mark your calendars for A Date with Egypt on April 30!

We’re looking forward to seeing you.

* This type of text (what Egyptologists call the ‘Address to the Living’) is found at the entrance to Old Kingdom mastaba tombs as an invitation to passers-by to enter the tomb and give offerings. Those failing to do so would be sued by the deceased when they got to heaven.

**An offering of 1000 loaves of bread and 1000 jugs of beer that I give for Golden Boy’s soul.

Sotheby’s was offering the treasure as “the world’s most expensive book.” Even that doesn’t do it justice. As can be seen in our gallery, the thing is four volumes, each about 40 inches high. Altogether there are 435 hand-colored plates. The set has the presence in the room of a great object.

The main reason we prize Audubon around here is that his drawings are dramatic, aesthetically exciting images. But there’s always a story attached to every plate. Audubon was an adventurer and international entrepreneur as well as an artist-ornithologist. He spent one winter marooned on a frozen river with Osage Indians. During a Kentucky trip in 1813, he witnessed an overhead migration of the now-extinct passenger pigeon that continued constantly for three days. He wrote that everyone in Louisville dined on nothing but pigeons for an entire week. This is the same character who later shared dinner with Andrew Jackson in the White House, when the two swapped stories of the frontier, and who lectured to a Cambridge University audience that included Charles Darwin, as Darwin mentions in On the Origin of Species. There are good biographies of Audubon’s life, but some ambitious novelist really ought to see what can be done with his story. The challenge would be to give continuity to the far-flung episodes of Labrador and Texas, Haiti and Edinburgh.

Acquiring an Audubon set for North Carolina was the idea of a governor, William Alexander Graham, only a few years after the work’s completion. The cost to the state was believed at the time the lowest price ever paid for Birds of America—$650. The recent London auction did, in fact, reach an eight-figure price. When Audubon was surviving on swans and pecans with the Indians, he couldn’t have imagined such success. Maybe it’s time for that novel.