Page 9 - Demo

Every now and then, she%u2019d present us with slide shows of her times overseas. Her images were not of typical tourist subjects. Her preference was for haystacks captured on film in all weather conditions. She explained that she adored the French Impressionist artist, Monet. So, to honor his genius, and to indulge her own curiosity, she took an amazing series of photos that matched, as closely as possible, the appearance of the haystacks Monet had painted in varying light and different seasons.But she went beyond Monet%u2019s locales, and took many additional haystack photos in Japan, Germany, and several other countries. She was so delighted by how each region had it%u2019s own unique way of piling up hay, and she saw the attractive qualities in each one. I had so much fun, because she had so much fun, in seeing beauty and art in the ordinary.During the next two years, my 5th and 6th grade teacher, Miss Crandell, apparently saw some art talent in me, because I was one of only 2 students who were quietly invited to use her expensive tubes of watercolor paints. Everyone else was handed one of the well-worn, standard-issue, Prang sets, which consisted of 6 hard, misshapen blobs of basic colors in flat, metal boxes. As another sign of her artistic belief in me, she occasionally asked me to decorate the large display case in the main hall. I didn%u2019t think too much about these events at the time, because Miss Crandell never made a big deal out of it. She was somewhat stern, very intelligent, truly wise, and her classes ran like clockwork. She never criticized or praised any student out loud. Instead, she knew instinctively how to encourage, as well as discourage, almost mystically.One the most wonderful things about Miss Crandell, was her massive collection of back issues of Ford Times that she kept stored in our classroom. Where she got them, I have no idea, since she drove a two-tone Oldsmobile. In any case, she explained how we students could be inspired by looking at the photography and graphic art in them. And I was. In particular, I loved the colorful, amusing, quirky, modern-minimalist style covers by Charley Harper. He could make all species of birds, and many animals, by using a few crisp blocky shapes, a handful of strategically placed lines, and a limited palette of bold colors. His creativity was amazing.About this time, my mother%u2019s first cousin, along with her husband, Fred, and their two kids (who were several years older than Lee and me), moved into a house fairly close to our own. My sister and I were instructed to call her %u201cAunt Betty.%u201d My mother was secretive and clenching of all aspects of her life and possessions, so I%u2019d never heard of this person before. As with Howard and Kay, my parents became friends with Betty and Fred. And once again, I found this couple to be gentle, intelligent, and creative. And, like Kay and Howard, they drank a great deal, but it was cheap beer, rather than cocktails.While most of Betty%u2019s and Fred%u2019s house was unremarkable, I really admired the towering stained-glass window that could be seen as you climbed the steps to the upper floor. So striking, and so unexpected, it was constructed with just a few brightly colored round shapes, rectilinear forms, lines, and triangles. It reminded me of Charley Harper%u2019s menagerie, but was totally abstract. Later%u2014Dressed for the Senior Prom. 1968Colonial Williamsburg. Ink on paper. c1965