This quote by David Whyte is posted on the wall next to my computer: "Give up all worlds except the one to which you belong."
That's how I felt last fall when, after a 20-year career in the newspaper business, I decided it was time to change hats and devote more time to something near and dear to my heart: the arts.
Some background. I'm an artist and an arts administrator, but I began my career in the arts in a decidedly unprofessional way - as an inquisitive child and a vandal!
As a girl growing up in Manchester in the 1950s I lived 7 or 8 blocks away from the Currier Gallery of Art, which is now the Currier Museum. It was a beautiful building surrounded by trees and flowers and grass, and very appealing to someone who lived in a brick tenement building and played kick the can or hide and go seek in the alley.
Every so often my friends and I would head for the museum. It always impressed me that the two elderly women and the elderly gentleman who worked there were so welcoming. Here we were, bratty kids, probably pretty dirty in our shorts and sneakers. Yet they never kicked us out, never told us not to touch the paintings and sculptures and always seemed glad to see us. I loved the glass exhibit – all the colored pieces set out on sparkling glass shelves. Another favorite was a miniature room set behind a window in one of the sub-basements. We had to stand on a wooden box to see into it and marveled at the teeny, tiny pieces of furniture.
The best part of the museum was outside. An enormous, 20-foot-high and 20-foot-wide mosaic flanked the carved wooden front doors. Called The Arts, it depicted famous men in ancient history and literature – Cicero, Sophocles, Plato, Demosthenes. Back in the ‘50s the mosaic was in disrepair and the glass tiles were falling apart. It was easy to pick them off – and we did – throwing the colored pieces into the reflecting pool. We knew we were naughty but not too concerned – what we didn't know was that we were throwing away pieces of a great work of art!
Fortunately, the mosaics have been restored and are now part of the museum's Winter Garden. If you haven't visited the Currier yet you should – it's a world-class museum with a wonderful art collection – including those mosaics!
Fast forward 50 years or so – I'm now a mosaic artist, working with recycled materials, as well as the assistant director of the Arts Alliance of Northern New Hampshire.
I haven't forgotten my roots as a child hungry for beauty and unexpected treasures. That's why I'm excited and proud to work for the Arts Alliance: we make arts and cultural opportunities available to thousands of people each year, many of whom would not otherwise be exposed to music, dance, literature, or the visual arts. I want others to experience the joy I felt as a young girl – and continue to feel -- by connecting them with the many creative and cultural endeavors under way in our region.
My early experiences at the Currier were my introduction to the arts and the inspiration for what I do today. What's your story? Are you an artist or an arts supporter? Can you remember what first sparked your creativity and imagination? Where do you find your inspiration today? I'd love to hear from you!!
Some background. I'm an artist and an arts administrator, but I began my career in the arts in a decidedly unprofessional way - as an inquisitive child and a vandal!
As a girl growing up in Manchester in the 1950s I lived 7 or 8 blocks away from the Currier Gallery of Art, which is now the Currier Museum. It was a beautiful building surrounded by trees and flowers and grass, and very appealing to someone who lived in a brick tenement building and played kick the can or hide and go seek in the alley.
Every so often my friends and I would head for the museum. It always impressed me that the two elderly women and the elderly gentleman who worked there were so welcoming. Here we were, bratty kids, probably pretty dirty in our shorts and sneakers. Yet they never kicked us out, never told us not to touch the paintings and sculptures and always seemed glad to see us. I loved the glass exhibit – all the colored pieces set out on sparkling glass shelves. Another favorite was a miniature room set behind a window in one of the sub-basements. We had to stand on a wooden box to see into it and marveled at the teeny, tiny pieces of furniture.
The best part of the museum was outside. An enormous, 20-foot-high and 20-foot-wide mosaic flanked the carved wooden front doors. Called The Arts, it depicted famous men in ancient history and literature – Cicero, Sophocles, Plato, Demosthenes. Back in the ‘50s the mosaic was in disrepair and the glass tiles were falling apart. It was easy to pick them off – and we did – throwing the colored pieces into the reflecting pool. We knew we were naughty but not too concerned – what we didn't know was that we were throwing away pieces of a great work of art!
Fortunately, the mosaics have been restored and are now part of the museum's Winter Garden. If you haven't visited the Currier yet you should – it's a world-class museum with a wonderful art collection – including those mosaics!
Fast forward 50 years or so – I'm now a mosaic artist, working with recycled materials, as well as the assistant director of the Arts Alliance of Northern New Hampshire.
I haven't forgotten my roots as a child hungry for beauty and unexpected treasures. That's why I'm excited and proud to work for the Arts Alliance: we make arts and cultural opportunities available to thousands of people each year, many of whom would not otherwise be exposed to music, dance, literature, or the visual arts. I want others to experience the joy I felt as a young girl – and continue to feel -- by connecting them with the many creative and cultural endeavors under way in our region.
My early experiences at the Currier were my introduction to the arts and the inspiration for what I do today. What's your story? Are you an artist or an arts supporter? Can you remember what first sparked your creativity and imagination? Where do you find your inspiration today? I'd love to hear from you!!
4 comments:
My friend Eileen is blogging! You go girl! The mark of a true artist is to experiment with new media. Blogs are great for storytelling and I loved your story.
My expressions were singing, dancing, and writing. Can't say when they started but they were in full force by early teens. Forty years later, the singing is relegated to the car (although it was an honor as a teen to sing with the high school choir on the Kennedy Center stage!).
Dancing - well let's just say that I've never been able to learn any dance that had steps. My feet and whole body for that matter want to move on their own and simply REFUSE to follow steps. I was on vaca once and took a short cruise and the cruise director was teaching everyone the Electric Slide. After a few minutes, he told me to sit down! It's okay, though.
And I still write. I hope to write til the day I die. Words, stories, theories, observations - whatever I can share.
And in a previous life I must have painted with oils. I cannot go into an art store without buying or longing to buy paints of some description. I have no idea why. It's a compelling, irrestible force. I eventually give them away or throw them out, shaking my head at my own foolishness, for I know once I buy them, I won't know what to do with them. I never got past stick figures, and those weren't very good. Perhaps there is a Grandma Moses in me waiting to get out.
Thanks for making me aware of this blog.
Keep up the good work for the AANNH!
A feel a duet coming on the next time we're in a car together, and I knew we were soul sisters for a reason - dance steps elude me!
Betcha never thought I'd do this wild blog thing!!
Blogging is fun and a way to reach and reach out to others with our writing. I blog professionally and for pure pleasure.
I see that you're a quilter. How did you get started? The Arts Alliance is compiling info on people who practice traditional arts like quilting. Would love to hear more.
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