Thank goodness for benches in galleries and art museums. There are some works of art that I simply need to sit and look at, a long time. One such painting hangs in my kitchen/sitting room, over the fireplace. My old, worn, black leather Eames lounge chair cradles me in comfort and positions me to look up, straight at Leonard Craig’s painting, 43”x43.” The title has vanished from my mind. I can stare at it for hours, and each time I sit back down there and look at it, I discover something new.
When Leonard delivered this painting with the promise to help hang it, he related the story behind the image. A scene he observed many times in the summer, driving to and from Unity College, where he taught art, and the mid-coast of Maine. The painting depicts his trip home to Unity at sunset, as he was driving, looking at the farm fields with livestock and horses. It has strong colors and shapes and I swear I can observe movement.
I love this painting. I loved Leonard. His work is so powerful, yet he was the gentlest man I have ever met. Soft spoken and charming. And apparently, an excellent art teacher.
In the best of two worlds, he lived in Maine during the summers and in Italy in the winters.
Many years prior, I had acquired another of his paintings. Upon walking into Maine Coast Artists Gallery in Rockport to attend the new exhibit, the largest paining that hung on the furthest wall immediately caught my eye. I knew, as I walked quickly towards it, that I had to have it. 60”x80” with black, white, grey, and gold-leaf paints. An abstract Monhegan Island. At that time, I could never have purchased it if Leonard hadn’t offered, “I know this painting is for you, Marilyn. How about acquiring it by monthly payments?” Its value has now skyrocketed, but I couldn’t part with it ever. I hope my children and grandchildren will have the same resolve.
My old Cape in West Rockport, with its low ceilings, could not house “Monhegan.” It hung in my office at Moss Inc in Belfast, on the large wall across from my desk, giving me an occasional relief from the stress of work from 1994 to 2001, when we sold Moss Inc. It now resides in the house I built for my children and grandchildren in Camden, where it has found its rightful place. My wish is that Leonard could see it hanging in its final home.
“Monhegan” pulls me into its mystery every time I sit and gaze at it. It too is powerful and has movement that draws my eyes into finding new shapes and dimensions.
Music can have a similar effect on me. Particularly when I attend the live Bay Chamber Concerts. Sometimes, with my eyes closed, and other times my eyes glued to the musicians’ hands or faces, the music enters my ears and then flows through my body. I feel it traveling through the ventricles of my heart, then my lungs, down my abdomen through my legs and all the way to my toes. It can elevate me. Music is food for our bodies and souls.
And we mustn’t forget about literature. How soothing a poem can be. How we can lose ourselves in a good and well written story. Or theatre. Or ballet.
To have any of the arts in our lives, whether at home or in museums and concerts, is our preservation. Experiencing art, music and literature in any form brings civility into an ugly world as killing, hatred, injustices, inequalities, food insecurities, domestic violence, flood and fire tragedies, and climate changes destroy our world. It’s times like these that we need to reach out for the arts to provide a balm.