July 1, 2008
Following one of my art openings last year, I was invited for an outdoor barbeque at a friend’s house. This friend, along with her three young daughters, also attended my exhibition. At the barbeque that night, her seven-year-old daughter created drawings in the kitchen and labeled them with appropriate art-sounding titles. Then she taped them to the house siding, above the picnic table, so that everyone at the party could see them. Her imitation of my art exhibit was one the highlights of the day.
When I wrote the artist Robert Eustace about this experience, he responded, “In the midst of an art evening like that, there are all kinds of ideas and emotions, highs and lows that come upon the exhibiting artist. But there are always those small unforeseen rewards like the seven-year-old girl, following suit and presenting her artwork. I won’t know (most) of what has taken place with all of my art activities until I find myself awake in eternity with various people coming up to me to talk.”
Eustace would know from his own experience, how exhibitions can bring out unexpected rewards. There was one particular experience that stood out in his mind.
“I hosted my own art exhibition at a nearby Presbyterian Church hall. It neatly marked the closing of a chapter in the book of life – a swansong or final farewell and the end of an era. Very early in the proceedings and before any of the guests had arrived, I began to play a composition of my own, entitled The Red Cloud. After several minutes passed, a young woman came up on her own accord, stood next to the piano and began to sing — beautifully accompanying and mirroring the composition, while finding room for flights of improvisation. She was immaculately attired in a long, white, formal gown, while I was dressed in a suit and tie. At least one and maybe two other pieces were played that day and they each had the same tranquil and breathtaking result. Some guests trickled in, but the stillness of that moment continued in spite of the increase in chatter and rising noise level. It finally came to an end after one hour. It was one of the most incredible and sublime moments that I would ever share with another human being.”
For painter D.C. Morale, an unexpected reward came when someone approached her and recognized her from a self-portrait on display in a local business. A similar experience occurred for painter Miguel Angel.
“I was born on the tropical island of Puerto Rico,” Miguel explains. “I lived there for fifteen years before I moved to Chicago, where I developed an interest for art and photography. It was twenty years before I returned to my old town. When I did return, I shot several beautiful pictures of the local river. Later, I painted this scene in two compositions. A man approached me at one of my art exhibitions because he recognized the river in my painting. He told me he was from the same town and that the river had recently been channeled due to constant flooding during the tropical season. I became ecstatic at that possiblity and, after some research, I found his claim to be true. My two paintings now tell a story of a river called Rio de Barceloneta that once ran near the downtown area of this small, quaint town.”
There are many positive experiences that can come of exhibitions, besides the obvious of selling work or meeting new artists. One exhibit may spawn an invitation to display at an art gallery, or it might take your ideas down a path not yet imagined.
Paintings shown are by Miguel Angel. To see more from these featured artists, visit their websites at:
Miguel Angel www.migangelostudios.com
Robert Eustace www.sainteustacefineart.com
D.C. Morale www.dcmorale.com