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Saturday, June 15, 2013

Wyeth women on art

Fenimore Art Museum
"I think all great stuff comes out of being alone. At the time you may feel lonely, but it's doing something wonderful to you."
    --Carolyn Wyeth

"A kind of tribute to my delight in life, in all kinds of important aspects of my life, and also the very superficial, the delightful, the charming, the nonessential, except that I never know what is nonessential. Nothing is unimportant... It is all paintable It's all part of an artist's life."
    --Henriette Wyeth Hurd

2 comments:

  1. Wonderful quotes! Are these Wyeth women also artists? I did not know!

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  2. Hi Marja-Leena,

    I just had an artist for company and shall write about her later. And yes, the two Wyeth sisters were artists. For three years I lived near the Brandywine museum, and I remember paintings by Jamie and Andrew and N. C. Wyeth, but nothing about the women. Either they were not shown, or they were not emphasized, or maybe I was too little to remember anybody who was not touted as "famous."

    They are both sisters of Andrew Wyeth, and Henriette Wyeth married artist Peter Hurd, who was a student of N. C. Wyeth (and I love his very sensitive portraits.) I am taken with both women and their work and have been digging around to find out more about them. There's not nearly as much as on their brother and father, but there is some. And Carolyn was a bit of a hermit, very serious about her teaching and producing a limited number of canvases each year.

    But it's probably all part of the usual women-artists-in-the-shade business because both women are quite good. I'm going back to look at the show some more next week, as I was only halfway through the paintings when I had to go. So I'll know more later.

    The whole family seems terribly interesting. One brother was an engineer (invented the plastic bottle), and another sister was a composer. She also painted later in life, it seems.

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Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.