Jeffrey Baumgartner - Chicago Actor and Artist
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The Prep - Trip #2 East-Bound

8/27/2012

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"Boat on Dry Docks" 20 x 16" oil 2011 [SOLD]
"Imagination is the beginning of creation. You imagine what you desire; you will what you imagine; and at last you create what you will." - George Bernard Shaw

Here we go... again! I  am leaving tomorrow for three weeks'painting in Maine - my first time there, and I am thrilled. Apprehensive but thrilled; have not had the time to prep as much as perhaps I did for the journey West two months ago. But the art spirit is ready and willing to sally forth again. 

I will run a  few errands tomorrow morning. Then I head to Indy to visit and deliver a couple of artworks to dear friends, Mark and Lori Gabrek. I have done a 16 x 20" painting of their lake place in Brown County and have had so much fun doing it. Have not, as yet, digitized it, but will do so tomorrow and try to post. 

Will hope to visit the Indiana Art Museum as well, to kick start the inspiration. Get away on Wednesday morning and stop-overs/tent camping (1) outside of Cleveland, (2) Syracuse, New York, and then (3) Gloucester, Mass, painting all the while en plein air. This places me spitting distance to Kennebunk, Maine, where I will rely on the kindness of friends to stage me for a few days while I make some day trips out to paint the environs. A paint out in Booth Bay Harbor on Wednesday next week, then the Slam Dunk: a week painting on the legendary Monhegan Island eight days, from Friday to the following Saturday.

It has been a busy week. We closed SS! THE TAMING OF THE SHREW with Chicago Shakespeare Theater after a resounding four-week success of their new program "Chicago Shakespeare in the Parks".  It's free! Underwritten in part by Boeing, the production traveled to eleven park districts and hosted an average of six to seven hundred theater-goers each performance; seems to me the largest capacity was something over 950. It was an absolute joy in which to participate. I even committed myself to completing a series of twelve paintings, one for each of the parks locations, many painted from life (I would arrive an hour or two ahead of the rest of the cast) or from a combination of rough sketches and photo references. The series, when complete, might gain legs as there may be an opportunity for exhibition down the line.  Especially cool for me was meeting Mayor Rahm Emmauel when he visited the production in Garfield Park. 

In typical fashion, I heard he was there, and just before the performance commenced, marched right out to the center of the lawn where he was seated in lawn chairs with his wife, and shook hands. It was not until later, during the performance, that we all espied from backstage the several (subtle but heavily-armed) members of the security team watching him intently from every vantage point. I am guessing I made an appearance on their wireless: "yep, got him, Shakespeare actor, costumed - are those Pumpkin Pants he is wearing! - aggressively approaching..." (wondering what code name they used for the mayor during this performance: "bard" maybe) "aggressively approaching 'Bard I'... keep an eye on the Pumpkin Pants...." Over.

Anyway, a great success. The production was put to bed on Sunday after four weeks, some twenty or so performances, thousands of people in attendance, many new to Shakespeare, perhaps even to the concept of live, professional theatrical presentation. Wow.

So, a week to get ready for this trip. On Monday, I met with the owner of the new Fiat dealership which celebrated their Grand Opening on Thursday. I had done, on spec, two 18 x 24" paintings of Fiats against a backdrop of rural America (my reference photos from outside of New Harmony, IN came into service in a big way), as well as a grove of trees as backdrop, through which a beautiful Fiat has just passed. The owner liked them very much.


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"FIAT in Farm Country" 18 x 24" oil, 2012
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"FIAT in Grove of Trees" 18 x 24" oil, 2012
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"Lincoln Park Home" 16 x 20" oil, 2012
So, the owner asks me to execute three large wall murals to be completed by Opening on Thursday. I am not a muralist. (Yet, apparently). Like my theater days running a company - the dreaded all-nighters. I worked from their closing at 8pm until wee hours, 3 am'ish Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday evenings. My body was aching but the check was cut and in the bank by Wednesday at noon. Tried negotiating the throwing of a Fiat in to the mix, but it did not go over well. 

The balance of the week was spent peddling other artworks that I have completed during my brief honeymoon period with Lincoln Park these past five or six weeks.  At right is a tremendous home, the owner of which I met only yesterday as he now considers purchasing. I suggested we could waive the purchase price if only I could have the home on time-share two weeks out of the year and that I would need additional parking space for my new Fiat - as of press time, my call has not been returned. 

Anyway, welcome back and see you soon! Ciao, baby

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"Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited.  Imagination encircles the world."  - Albert Einstein

7/18/2012

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Just wanted to share this: someone I met on the trip, Day 28, "Father and Son", sent some photos that he had taken. This is very fun, thanks Chris!
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Jeffrey painting at Bluewater State Park at sunset just West of Albuquerque, day of the "Venus Transference" - happens only once every 120 years or so (the Transference, that is, not Jeffrey painting at sunset :) Photo provided by Chris Arndt.

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“Everything that is painted directly and on the spot has always strength, a power, a vivacity of touch which one cannot recover in the studio… three strokes of a brush in front of nature are worth more than two days of work at the easel.”-Boudin

7/9/2012

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Jeffrey painting Chicken Coop in the rain, Leo/Cedarville, IN (photo by A Bojrab)

Arrive in Fort Wayne on Thursday afternoon and spend a few hours with my mom (who has not yet heard from Mark Gabrek, so I am safe so far). We then meet with Kim and Sandra Cress, who were responsible for my tremendous accommodations and good times in Seguin, Texas. We enjoy a great dinner together; I give them a painting I did of the main house and smoke house in Texas as a gesture of appreciation.

After dinner, I unpack all artwork from the car and begin to organize in anticipation of the paint out and exhibit this weekend. Our dear family friend, Janii, comes over and gives me bunches of ammunition as where to paint at Lake Wawasee, as she grew up there and it was old stomping grounds for her.

On Friday, I spend a couple of hours exploring the lake; I find the unique and matchless iconic bar and restaurant, The Frog, as well as The Sleepy Owl, and the Pointe Brooke Inn, where I happen on Mary Ann Davis from Indianapolis checking in. Quick hugs and inquiries as to where she plans to paint; she is thinking lagoons and lily pads. Continuing around the lake I find some cool old barns, snap some photos for reference, but then stumble unto the shuttered and derelict Crow’s Nest Yacht Club. This is for me.

Without hesitation, I pull my car up and begin unloading gear. Despite the oppressive heat - over 100 degrees - I am having a great time the next two or so hours knocking out a cool little painting, 11x14” of the backside of the yacht club – the door is entirely off its hinges and leaning against the jamb, large hand spray-painted letters warning “No Trespassing,” and “Keep Out.” So, of course, I venture in for a look-about where I find old discarded boats and canoes, even a bathroom sink or two and old toilet basin.  The old Yacht Club has seen better times.

Pleased with the painting but ready for a beer and some a/c, I head to The Frog. Beer in hand but still wired, I want to paint; I ask the manager if I can set up and paint in the bar. Answer is affirmative and out comes the gear.

I am near a ceiling fan and a/c and a beer comes to me like magic almost every half hour. I decide to commit myself to staying here in this spot for three days, drinking Newcastles, in my mind I tell the manager that I am happy to close up the place at night, will sleep on the pool tables. Don’t need to really be back in Chicago till we start rehearsals again for “SS! Taming of the Shrew” at Chicago Shakespeare in two weeks, I start to do the math: how many Newcastles is that every half hour for the next two and a half weeks?

Two hours later (that is four beers) I have a fun little painting and have had a lot of conversations, people continually coming up to me. Time to get back to Ft Wayne and some dinner.

On Saturday, another brutally hot day, couple of hours of painting, this time on the south side of the lake, and a cocktail and pizza mixer for all of the attending Indiana Plein Air Painters (IPAPA) at Brooke Pointe. Our gracious hosts, George and Peggy Rapp, have invited the artists to their lovely home on Waco Drive for more drinks and viewing of fireworks from their lakefront and pier. A tour of their home includes viewing an incredible art collection. All the usual suspects there, my new buddies, Mary Ann Davis, Jeff Klinker, Donna Shortt, and Andrea Bojrab and her husband, Fred.

Andrea and I had painted together during her workshop in Leo/Cedarville, IN, last fall. She did a great painting of me at the Chicken Coop which I then bought from her so as to include in the solo exhibition in Ft Wayne this past January; the project was whimsically titled “The Prodigal Son Returns” and included a five-week solo exhibit of over fifty works, which kicked off with a presentation of the one-man theater piece, “Barrymore’s Ghost” in which I appeared as the inimitable and legendary actor, John Barrymore.

At Pointe Brooke, I was pleased to meet in the parking lot as I approached the entrance the astronomically talented painter, John Michael Carter, and his wife, Barbara. There are a tremendous number of his paintings on display at the Rapp home in their stunning collection. Wow and wow, is all I can say.

Sunday is an exhibition of works from each artist at the South Shore Golf Club. I have approximately a dozen pieces and am very pleased when the 11 x 14” “Old Barn, New Harmony, IN” sells. Good. I can fill my gas tank to return to Chicago after all. I will have to forego the two weeks’ worth of Newcastles, but I think that’s okay.

As my mom and sister, Tina, have come up to see the exhibit, we head to The Frog for lunch. It is nice to relax and visit. Back to Ft Wayne, pack up the car and head for Chicago. A good weekend. Yep.

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Sketch and scene of shuttered Crow's Nest Yacht Club at Lake Wawasee Paint Out (photo)

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Detail of sketch, Crow's Nest Yacht Club (photo)

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"A painting is the revelation of a journey." - Pablo Picasso

7/3/2012

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I need to catch up, a lot has happened and it seems time to bring this particular journey to a close. After a delightful couple of days with Mark and Lori at their tremendous lake place in Brown County, I participated in a Paint Out in Greenfield, IN with IPAPA, where I met some terrific Indiana artists: Mary Ann Davis, Jeff Klinker, Donna Shortt, Wyatt LeGrand, among others. 

I was able to get two decent paintings completed: “Brandywine Creek, Greenfield, IN” 16x20” and “Old Barn, Greenfield, IN” 11x14”. Mark and Lori purchased two of the California paintings from the road - "Point (Los) Lobos" and "Big Sur" - and the artworks look terrific hanging in their main room at the lake house. 

Diann and I bid adieu to Mark and Lori (Mark asked repeatedly for my mom’s cell number, I steadfastly refused, don’t trust him, never did :)

We are back in Chicago by Sunday evening, July 1st, thereby concluding the Journey of eight glorious weeks; however, not quite concluded, ha, as I will travel to Lake Wawasee in Indiana the next weekend, July 6-8, to participate with Indiana Plein Air Painters and the Wawasee Paint Out.  


“It is not necessary that you leave the house. Remain at your table and listen. Do not even listen, only wait. Do not even wait, be wholly still and alone. The world will present itself to you for it’s unmasking, it can do no other, in ecstasy it will writhe at your feet.” – Kafka
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"I'm painting an idea not an ideal. Basically I'm trying to paint a structured painting full of controlled, and therefore potent, emotion." - Euan Uglow  

6/28/2012

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Barn in Brown County, IN - I could easily do a whole series of paintings (photo)

Diann arrived on the Megabus from Chicago and I picked her up downtown Indianapolis. In Nashville, nothing else open, we had a pizza and beers at the brewery and off to the campsite.  Temps drop to a comfortable 60's overnight. Early brunch at the Lodge for salad bar and an exploration of Nashville. We start at Brown County Art Gallery and view representative works from myriad Hoosier artists. It is very impressive a collection!

On recommendation from the gallery director, we head to Brown County Art Guild and are impressed again, most especially by the works from the permanent collection including Marie Goth and V.J. Cariani. Stunning. We spent little over an hour there, I imagine. More look-about and we check in at our B&B just outside of Nashville. After settling in, we discuss zipping in to Story, IN, a mere ten minutes away. But we don't want to short-change our time there so dinner at The Artists' Colony in downtown Nashville, pick up wine and champagne  and chocolate and choose a video cassette (yes, I wrote "video cassette") from the B&B library collection and we settle in. The movie is "The Paper", fun, and I am in the whirlpool with champagne. From the camping, my lower back had begun to ache and this is just the medicine for it. 

Tomorrow breakfast included at 9am, prepared by our proprietress, Billy Jean, and a trip to Story where I intend to paint in front of the infamous and fabled Story Inn - it is said to be haunted by the "Blue Lady." Then to join them at their lake house, friends of mine from way back - Mark Gabrek and his wife Lori, have generously invited us to stay with them Friday and Saturday evenings. I will participate in a Paint Out in Greenfield, IN, all day on Saturday, so as to arrive back at the lake near 5pm. 

Mark and I grew up together in Fort Wayne and were able to visit last June when I was in Zionsville for a plein air workshop.  After we shared a whole lot of stories, I began to discover one thing: all the times that I got in trouble or had a crazy time of it, Mark seemed to be there. Wrecked my Dad's van sneaking into the exit of a Ft Wayne drive-in theater after midnight in our college years - Mark was there; high school, trip to Florida, a flash flood and the car of our mutual friend, Joe Braun, goes floating away while we were driving - four guys jump out and and push it as 'twere a boat, back to terra firma; Mark was bassist and flutist for our first garage band in which I sang; we went to Notre Dame and played in the Commons our only four songs, one of which was Jethro Tull's "Freebird," I think we played it four times. "Suite Madam Blue" on tour with the high school show choir and performing in New Orleans' French Quarter in 1978 where Mark and I stumble onto the arrival of the band members of Styx, having an interview on the steps in the Quarter. I have pictures of Dennis DeYoung waving to me.

Uh huh, a recurring theme - Mark was seemingly always there; ergo, Mark Gabrek, this fairly quiet, unassuming gentle man, I believe, was the cause for any trouble in which I found myself. At least that is the story I shall continue to tell my mother. And she will believe me; unless Mark gets to her first. Bastard.
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"It has seemed to me that the greatest of all arts is the art of living." T.C. Steele, Indiana artist

6/27/2012

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The Studio, T.C. Steele, Nashville, IN (photo)

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Quote on mantlepiece at home of T.C. Steele

Hello Everyone!

Okay, looks like I need to switch some gears. People have been clamoring, 'where are you, what are you doing?' I am afraid with regard to the blog, I got myself stuck in Texas some ten-plus days ago. So I will need to finish these next few days hopefully in real time and will go back and get my dailies in order at a later date.  Simply, it has just been too difficult to keep chasing down WiFi at Starbuck's, various libraries, etc. And I am filling my days with experience rather than the process of writing about experience. You know?

Briefly, after leaving Seguin, Texas, I drove to the home of C.W. "Sonny" Bahs and his wife, Barbara, in Nacogdoches, TX. Always friend and mentor to me, Bahs was chair of the theater program at University of Wyoming where I did my undergrad. He retired five years ago as chair at Stephen F Austin University. They were extremely good and kind to me and Bahs gave a quick tour of their fair city before we lost daylight.  Next morning, they bought a painting, proceeds of which put me on the road again.

Then I  landed at the estate of my new bestest, bestest friends, Timothy &  Jen.  Forget'boutit, you will not find on this earth cooler and more generous people. Tim is a master painter; Jen is a voice artist/actor, does a good deal of voice-over work.  We spent four incredible days together and I will need weeks to not only recover, ha, but to digest and assimilate the fun that we had. I promise to give them their due later by way of daily blog records. Um, yep and they bought paintings, and that is plural. Many hugs going their way, I miss them!

From their piece of paradise in Fayetteville, Arkansas, I headed for my final destination in Brown County, Ind, logging a total of .... wait for it.... wait for it.... 8,000 miles so far! 

Ultimately I will stay for three days in Brown County State Park but not before landing in New Harmony, IN. Founded in late nineteenth century by Father George Rapp, the Harmonists were an ideologic utopian society with a combination of the Swabian work ethic ("work, work, work and save, save, save") and Benedictine rule ("work and pray!"). I camped in Harmonie State Park - wonderful - and got into town early for a look-about. 

I was standing near the Granary, and a woman with water can in hand asked, May I help you? I suggested I might do a painting of the central building unless she might have other ideas. She says wait a moment and disappears, I think to deposit her water can.  She returns and says, "get in" and I spy a lone golf cart (they are all over New Harmony). For the next ninety minutes I am enthralled with a golf cart tour of the town, she is dropping knowledge at every turn and seems pleased that I continue to jump out of the cart, often before it has stopped, to snap photos. I am armed with a mass of shots that could inform an entire series of paintings depicting this idyllic, pastoral, and inspiring community. I learn that my new friend, Nancy, is a volunteer gardener, is wife to a physician in town, is very proud of her community, and has lived here for more than 17 years. She grew up in the area. 

Off to Brown County. The State Park is absolutely breath-taking. Then headed to the too-too-quaint-for-its-own-good Nashville, Indiana. I will live here one day; oh, yes I will, don't try to stop me :)

First thing in the morning, breakfast in Nashville (I will wait for Diann's arrival late on Wednesday evening to really explore the town on Thursday) and started painting downtown. Two hours, was just ready to sign it, lots of people coming up to say hello, and a fellow inquires price and says, I'll take it. Good, I can afford to take Diann to dinner.

The afternoon is spent touring the home and studio of T.C. Steele, Indiana's most prominent artist. He painted same time as van Gogh, to give some historical context, died in 1926, at the age of 78.  Successful by the end of the nineteenth century, he was committed to the Indiana landscape, declaring to all that it rivals any other place in the world in its beauty.  It is T.C. Steele that put me on this journey and it is thrilling for me to conclude the trip following in his footsteps.

Late in the day, I look for the town of Bean Blossom, five miles north, to find the red covered bridge there, built 1880, find it and decide that will be tomorrow's painting location. Now to celebrate the sale of a painting, I seek out the brewery. I will need more time to document my experience over those next four hours but it was touching and very emotional for me. Everything was coming together, full-circle, if you will. 

My dad had taken us to camp and fish in Brown County. As a young lad, I had  scampered up a boy scout observatory tower when I was ten - it now is fenced in and public access is prohibited. When I came around the bend and saw it in the state park and remembered my time here as a kid, well, there goes the hair on my arms. An electric memory for me.

My lovely new friend at the brewery, Stephanie, took great care of me and suggested that I stay to hear the acoustic duo on the restaurant's patio. "The Indiana Boys." Yep, there goes the hair again. Singing songs as though they had written them specifically for me suggests to me that I never left Indiana; it has remained somewhere deep inside of me. I bought the c.d. and said hello to them on my way out. The singer says to me, I know you, you been to other gigs, you live around here, you're very familiar. Nope, I live in Chicago, have never been here, just arrived last night but yes, familiar I am - 'cuz I, too, am an Indiana Boy.  
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Painting with Tim at the lily pad pond at the Arboretum, Arkansas (photo)

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View from my cottage on the estate. I hope to convince Jen and Tim to name it "The Baumgartner Cottage" - I fear I may not have success :) (photo)

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"I am an artist – always seeking without absolutely finding. As far as I know, that word means: ‘I am seeking, I am striving, I am in with all my heart.’” – Vincent van Gogh

6/13/2012

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Day 36 – Wednesday

Today is more look-about and library. Late in the day I meet Kim and Sandra’s daughter, Kerri, who has kindly checked in on me, see if I needed anything. Is this whole family sweet or what? I was just leaving to go find Gruene, next town over. Kerri suggested following River Road for a wind-about, so I do and there I discover all kinds of wonderful scenes, potential painting sites, around each turn.

Problem is, I am finding, the roads have nary a turn-off, perhaps so as not to allow toobers free access to the river; at every turn there is a place to rent and access river for a fee, or little get-away camps and cabin rentals, again includes toobs and access etc. It proves very difficult to stop at any of these sites and vistas along the road. I consider painting on the narrow two-lane bridge where there are great shots of the rapid, cascading waters, but it doesn’t seem safe to me, so I opt out.

I take a lot of pictures, successfully get myself lost again through Canyon Lake, which is fine really, as it makes me discover new things, and amble down a highway that I think is going in the direction I want. This whole region apparently is considered “hill country.” Ah ha, I am back to a road name I recognize.

Kim had suggested earlier when we talked to maybe pop in for a beer at a little bar near the house in Barbarossa called “The Trough,” a public house. I do so and inside I find the proprietor and two cronies. A fascinating place, very dark, nostalgia dripping from every corner and wall space; coupla’ old pool tables. I spy two signs in particular that needs must get cited: “I’m confused what time we start around here because everyone’s already working when I get here.” And, of course, the classic “I’m not a FAST bartender, I’m not a SLOW bartender, I’m a HALF-FAST bartender!”

Couple of beers – they are $2 each, we are not in Chicago anymore – and back to the smokehouse for foodage and prep for tomorrow. I even manage to create an impromptu studio, put down a drop-cloth and knock out a painting from a photo I took of the Taos pueblo. I am pleased, it’s a good painting, simple, 9 x 12”. An opportunity this week to create a few paintings from photos by setting my laptop eye level, high on a bureau top. That is cool. That is a good thing. 

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"When I work, I work very fast, but preparing to work can take any length of time." - Cy Trombly

6/12/2012

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Day 35 – Tuesday

Arrive in rural Seguin, Texas, a little after 3pm and pull into the driveway. I will be staying for five or so days in the coach house – or “smokehouse,” rather – of very good friends of the family in Ft Wayne, the hometown, where many friends and most of my family still reside.

The property in Seguin belongs to Kim and Sandra Cress and has been in their family since, I believe, the late 1800’s. Kim and Sandra live in Ft Wayne and spend their winters in Texas. Kim had done a great deal of work on the house and landscaping for my mom and dad, while he was living, and continues to do a lot for my mom today. But I must convey a fun story how I first met them both.

I was getting ready for my first five-week solo exhibition of over fifty artworks this past January in Ft Wayne; the exhibit opening would kick-off with me in a benefit performance, a staged reading, of the one-man theatrical piece BARRYMORE’S GHOST, playing the legendary actor, John Barrymore. The project was whimsically titled, “The Prodigal Son Returns.” The benefit was part of the season of the local community theater in Ft Wayne, First Presbyterian Theater, proceeds benefiting their programming; the theater’s lobby is a wonderful fine art gallery space, and it had taken me almost a year of planning with the staff at 1st Pres to bring off this truly unique event.

I had come home to do some painting ‘direct from nature’ one weekend in December in order to generate more inventory and execute some Ft Wayne scenes for inclusion. The local newspaper found me painting in one of the locations and next morning there was a prominent photo in the Arts section. I was painting again that day and several people stopped and asked, you the guy from Chicago? Saw you in the paper this morning, etc.

Late afternoon, I was downtown doing a painting of the charming and vintage Cindy’s Diner and a car pulls up: “saw you in the paper this morning.” We chat briefly through his car window while they wait for a green light, and he says, “You know what, we’ll pull around and park, come talk with you.”

Conversation leads to the fact that I am originally from Ft Wayne, doing the exhibit in January, and they ask, “Any chance you know or are related to Jack and Lois of the same last name?” and I reply that, indeed, I am their youngest of five.

He begins pumping my hand. “I’m Kim! I’m Kim! I’ve always loved your mother and dad! I’ve done a bunch of work for them!”  I am stupefied, caught up in the excitement of the serendipity.

“Oh my gosh, you’re Kim! They have always talked about you, adored you! You built the waterfall garden for my dad bunch of years ago, and then planted the lavender tree in the backyard in 2004 after he died. You’re Kim!”

It was very wild and very special how it happened. Couldn’t wait to tell my mom, we talked about it for ninety minutes. Phone rings. I say, simply, “That’s going to be Kim!” It was. He says, “Man, that was just wild to meet you like that, we’ve been talking about it at dinner for the last ninety minutes. Say, how much for the Cindy’s Diner painting? Your folks have always had a special place in my heart, and we want to own it having met you the way we did.” And they own it.

When I began formulating a plan for the trip, an invitation materialized to stay in their smokehouse behind the main house in Texas. Well, turns out Kim had knee surgery weeks back and was unable to travel from Ft Wayne to Texas, and that I would still be welcomed to stay. A very generous offer and I was inclined to accept it.

The “smokehouse” was just that back in the day, where the meats were smoked for consumption. It had been fixed up as live-in and was charming as heck, very comfortable; one section of ceiling, say, eight by eight, the original wood from the smoking days. It was rural country, at least fifteen minutes from Seguin proper and actually nearer to New Braunfels; San Antonio is an hour south and west.

It was in New Braunfels that I would do any grocery shopping, library business for the blog, and discover all the “toobers.” Very much a river and water culture, people would rent “toobs” and float lazily down the river, hundreds of people at a time. What a fantastic way to take off the edge of the heat!

I very quickly pull the car up near the door and empty contents into the smokehouse, very organizedly. My fear is that anything left in the car this week might just bake so it all comes inside. To the library and a look-about in town; grocery and back for a big dinner. Wednesday will be seeking out painting locations and painting, painting. This will be a really perfect way to get caught up doing a whole lot of painting.


Oh, and look at the photo below, saw this and snapped a photo through the windshield as I entered Texas; in fact, saw another one similar ten miles down the road - makes sense....

Funny, I used to paint almost nudes exclusively, now I am doing plein air landscapes for awhile. Guess in Texas I shall do a bit of a combination of both.

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Mount Breast "They grow 'em big in Texas" (photo)

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“The proper response to my fears is: What are you making such a fuss for, jerk? Go out on stage and do it, or stop complaining and go home and get another job.” – Woody Allen

6/11/2012

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Day 34 – Monday

Today is a travel day, from Albuquerque to Texas. Pack the car in the morning for three hours again. I am actually getting better at it – it takes only an additional fifteen minutes each time I do it now!

I am about an hour after check out and I know that the maid is waiting for me so as to get in the unit to clean. When I tell her I am still approximately 30 minutes yet, she says it is fine and aren’t you the painter traveling cross-country? Yes. She says, 'My son is an artist, a painter'. Ah. 'Take your time getting out, I am actually going to lunch and how’s about I simply take the sheets and towels, that way I can get the laundry started.' 
Great. 


I am able to say goodbye to my lovely friends, Clarence and Alberta, and I hit the road. I decide to make the push to Seguin, Texas, the destination and the next leg of the journey for five or six days. I am over halfway through the trip.

No way to get there by night; in fact, I have so much energy that I drive past dark and decide to blow past the designated state park campground and drive well into the night. A truck stop for petrol at two am and a good place to sleep for a few hours. Sleep fairly upright in the car in a parking space at the truck stop, and awake with the sun. Morning ablutions and three breakfast burritos later, I am ready to head for Seguin.

There is something I want to report, got to thinking about it on the drive. About the time that I was commencing this trip, I had gotten a confirmation from ArtBarcs that it was launching mid-May, that I have been selected as featured artist, and that my work will be represented among 500 top living artists from five continents. Based in Chicago, ArtBarcs is essentially an online gallery whose mission is to put quality artwork in front of an exclusive list of patrons and collectors from around the world. I was thrilled to learn that I have been included in this enterprise!

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“If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.” – Jesus, The Secret Gospel of Thomas

6/10/2012

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Al in front of Fechin House at Taos, NM (photo)

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Now on my resume: performed 20-second concert of America's "Daisy Jane" at Fechin House in Taos, kicking off a national tour of 20-second concerts (photo)

Day 33 – Sunday

Al comes by the Hilton to meet me; we drop my car at a Hobby Lobby, closed Sundays. I jump into his pickup, we grab a couple of breakfast burritos and hit the road. As we drive through Ranchos de Taos, Al pulls the truck off and we have arrived at the iconic and very famous Taos Mission, founded and built by Franciscan friars, it is called San Francisco de Asis.

It was built between 1772 and 1816. Georgia O’Keeffe did some wonderful paintings depicting the mission and Ansel Adams - no slouch himself - also had produced some famous images. I am almost as fascinated by some of the derelict buildings and crumbling adobe structures near the church and snap a bunch of photos. I am being subtle with the camera as it is my understanding that as Taos is generally considered a sacred place, oftentimes photography is prohibited. One would not, for instance, photograph a person indigenous to the area - a Native American - without their permission, sometimes offering to pay them for the opportunity. Al isn’t sure of any regulations, but encourages me to get some photos. I do so as discreetly as I may.

We arrive at the Plaza by 10am, and shops are beginning to open. In fact, we walk into the first gallery we see on the Plaza, just opening its doors and it appears to be a co-op of local artists. While very kind, one of the artists whose shift in the shop is today gives the spiel and, as it comes out that I am an artist in Chicago, she eagerly suggests, oh and we can ship purchased artwork to Chicago. She continues with a bit of the  hard-sell - if you buy this or that, here is a piece very good value - and won’t let up on it. It gets tiresome after only a few moments and I no longer want to be in their gallery looking at their work.  Ouch.

The Plaza is cool as heck, very charming. I grab a coffee and make inquiry as to the Fechin House and off we go. Pop in to another gallery. I tell Al not to talk so much in the gallery so as to keep moving (and he understands that, of course, I mean that I won’t talk so much). There is an artist painting from a plein air easel in the middle of the gallery and this evolves a conversation. I notice that a patron has cornered Al, who seems to be getting the life-story; Al's a big boy, he can handle himself, needs no help from me. What was supposed to be a pop-in is now twenty minutes later, ugh. We extract ourselves from our respective conversations. But it really is a beautiful place, Taos, and nice just to be walking about.

We find the Fechin House. I am banking on the fact that Al will humor me in that I really want to spend some time here. I have learned that Fechin hand-carved much of the wood trims and doors in this home that he designed and built – with the help of masons from the Taos Pueblo - for his wife and young daughter, and as Al is adept at wood-working, he might get a kick.

I am really looking forward to this – Nicolai Fechin was a Russian-American artist who came to Taos in 1927 as it was burgeoning into an arts mecca. Already established by 1915 was the Taos Society of Artists, originally founded by six master painters, which continued to grow substantially, both in membership and in reputation. Fechin was a pioneer and champion in plein air as a practice and so many painters whom I have met in the past two or so years share a tremendous admiration for him and his work; until recently, I knew very little about him.

He came to Taos after a bout of tuberculosis, but a nasty divorce caused him to discontinue working on this sumptuous adobe home, which now serves as the Taos Art Museum. He took his daughter, Eya, away and apparently the wife stayed in the home for a time. Fechin died in 1955 and Eya later returned to Taos and created, in 1981, the Fechin Institute. She allowed that the magnificent house be open to the public as a museum and educational tool where people could view Fechin’s artwork, as well as representative pieces by other Taos artists. Too, Eya, as a young girl, was Fechin’s primary model and many of the artworks are of her, haunting and beautiful.

Great story: remember that I had met the Shakespeare scholar, Charmazel, in Albuquerque, a friend of Clarence and Alberta’s? Well, she told a story that in the mid-80’s she visited the Fechin House and as she made her way through the house, she was followed by a little old lady, which she thought a bit odd. After a time, the old woman finally asked if she would like to see the rest of the house, typically off-limits to the public. As it turns out, this was indeed Fechin’s daughter, Eya, and a personal tour yielded stories and all kinds of fascinating tidbits. That is so cool! Eya died in 2002. Of the adobe home she was known to have said, “A Russian house out of New Mexico mud.”

So, as Al and I are making our way, I spy a grand piano that someone was just playing as we walked in. I get an impish grin and tell Al that I will play the only twenty seconds of a song that I know how to play. I have been playing that same twenty seconds for more than thirty years. It is a Vegas lounge-singer version of the 70’s America tune, “Daisy Jane.” Cracked him up. I'll be here all week, try the veal.

I am thrilled to be here, to be experiencing this formidable artwork by these Taos masters. And this home-turned-museum, is unbelievable! We were told that the upstairs, usually open, is closed this week for a new installation which disappoints. The studio where Fechin worked, on the grounds but separate from the house, also was closed as they are preparing for a workshop. Well, that’s a bummer. However, I won’t be stopped from at least peeking into some windows. Well, the director of the education program has the door open and invites us in to see the studio and it is gorgeous! Lots of light pouring in; Fechin insisted on windows, windows, windows everywhere so as to capitalize on these remarkable natural surroundings, including views of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.

The other thing to know is that an impressive array of artists and writers were in Taos at the time Fechin was here working: Georgia O’Keeffe, Alfred Stieglitz, Ansel Adams, D.H. Lawrence and his wife, Frieda von Richthofen. So it must have been a heady time, indeed.

Al and I get back in the truck and head for the Taos Pueblo, north of the Plaza. There is an admission fee and I opt for the camera fee of an additional $8 as now it is very clear to me the regulations. After purchasing, you must display a tag on your camera that allows you to photograph; fair enough.

Both Al and I are drawn immediately to the nearby pueblo cemetery. It is beautiful and a bit chilling. So many crosses, so much history. We make our way, I am still careful and respectful not to photograph the people. The most prominent residential area, I will learn later, was built for defense purposes, between 1000-1450 a.d. Each primary family would have their own residence e.g. if a son or daughter marry, they then would move to their own adobe home. Al is dropping knowledge to me about the construction of adobe, which I find endlessly interesting. A river runs through the middle of the pueblo; it is my understanding that there is no running water, or electric in the traditional adobes. The river provides water for drinking and cooking. Each home is typically comprised of two rooms, one for sleeping and one for preparing food and cooking. Most have a rounded adobe mound “horno” in front of the homes, which is an oven or “furnace.”

We pop in to one of the many shops and have a wonderful conversation with the shop owner, who appears to be in her thirties. She grew up here in the pueblo. She is a photographer, and very good at that, and explains that her primary aim is to represent her pueblo and its inhabitants traditionally and with respect. She will not, however, photograph traditional customs/costumes, rituals and celebrations – as least not for public consumption nor viewing, out of respect for her people. 


As Al had posited to me week or so ago via an email, Taos  has become for me a spiritual experience. I am very humbled, I guess that is the word for it. It is a very peaceful moment, and I appreciate having my buddy, Alfonso, there with me sharing the moment.

As we head back to Santa Fe, Al pulls off the highway several times so as to point out the Rio Grande in all of its splendor. Also, we chat at length about the roadside graves or memorials – in Spanish, they are called “descansos” - the crosses or markers indicating someone has died here, usually in a fatal car accident. I saw them all along the way, from California, Arizona, but most prominently in New Mexico. Al makes a great point, that because they aren’t really a grave or “resting place” but rather, an indication of a tragic accident and death, he prefers to call them “recuerdos” or remembrances.

We get back, bid farewell to each other and I head back to Albuquerque and dinner, as planned, with the Geise's.

Later, I send Al an email thanking him for such a great time. He does something which surprises me, he replies that he wants to thank me – he felt he was able to see what was familiar to him differently, as he wrote, “to see structures and things that I see everyday in a new light. I saw colors and the way light plays off of things, changing them subtly.” Guess it was a painter's influence. It was very moving and appreciated.

Picture
Nicolai Fechin's painting of daughter, Eya

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    Jeffrey Baumgartner

    A professional actor for over twenty-five years, Jeffrey is an accomplished oil painter based in Chicago.  In 2008, he established  JB ArtWorks studio gallery. 

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