Director’s Notes Issue No. 1
Before I was born I was water.
I thought of this sitting on a blue
chair surrounded by pink, red, white
hollyhocks in the yard in front
of my green studio. There are conclusions
to be drawn but I can't do it anymore.
Born man, child man, singing man,
dancing man, loving man, old man,
dying man. This is a round river
and we are her fish who become water.
— "Water," by Jim Harrison
Dear MoNA Members,
This is the first of a recurring monthly letter—part journal, part bulletin—I will be sharing with you as the new Executive Director of the Museum of Northwest Art. The Director's Notes will be an opportunity for you, as a member and supporter of the museum, to hear it first from me, whether we engage in conversations about exhibitions here at the museum or in other venues in the Pacific Northwest, MoNA's outstanding collection, or the role of the museum within the community as the place where the audience becomes an experience in and for itself.
I am honored and tremendously excited to serve as the new Executive Director. I am grateful to the Board of Trustees for the confidence they have placed in me to lead such a storied institution. Above all, I am excited to build on the museum's strong work to serve and represent all communities by means of collecting, preserving, interpreting and exhibiting the art created in the Pacific Northwest. I look forward to working with the museum Board, with the Director of Development Joanna Sikes who has done an amazing job in stewarding the museum through difficult times as former Executive Director, and the Staff who bring extreme dedication and talent to the arts. And I look forward to engaging the community through my commitment to art, culture, inclusivity, and the recognition that art can touch, transform and reshape our perception of life.
My commitment to the arts began at home where both my parents—my father a lawyer with a passion for plein air painting, and my mother an elementary school teacher—as well as my great aunt Iris, a stately and stout woman who loved to travel up and down the Boot of the Italian peninsula to visit arts cities and often took me with her, encouraged me to engage with art. Whether looking up at the frescoed ceilings of a church's nave or tiptoeing through the white galleries of a museum, the question I was always asked was, what do you see?
So, what do I see? As I turn around the corner of my first month at MoNA, I feel so grateful for the beauty of the landscape that welcomes me every morning as, after a short drive north, I start to descend into the Skagit Valley. From the snow slush and black ice on the pavement of the first week to the milky fog in the still air of this past week, every single day the Valley has been generous with inspiring views—like the gilded morning light pouring from behind the mountains or the flock of swans that despite foraging in the mud still looks immaculate—and an overall comforting sense of homecoming. I have been driving through the Valley for 20 years, headed until now to the retreat of my cabin on the San Juan Islands. Yet, my experience of this place feels now new. Sure, to all of you who call La Conner and the Skagit Valley home these thoughts will sound overused, unoriginal, and consequently of little import. Even so, I hope to never part from the freshness of the emotions and the wholly humble sense of unity with nature that this place inspires. It is not by chance that I chose a poem by the late Jim Harrison: its references to colors, water, and the 'round river' of life capture so vividly the closeness and intimacy with nature that generations of artists have experienced and continue to experience in the Skagit Valley and surrounding areas.
Now, after the introductions, I wanted to invite you to MoNA to see From the Collection, the current exhibition curated by Susan Parke on view through February 13. If you haven't had the chance yet, I encourage you to do so before it comes down.
Featuring works from the permanent collection, the exhibition recounts passages from the collecting history of the museum, presenting works from artists such as Helmi Juvonen (1903-1985) one of the few women associated with the Northwest School. Helmi—as she was known—was an accomplished artist with a generous nature. She was closely connected to Native American Culture and was often a guest at important ceremonials, where she was known as Northern Light. Here is Spattered Owl, 1955, tempera on rice paper.
Image Credit: Helmi Juvonen, "Spattered Owl," 1955, tempera on rice paper, gift of Dr. and Mrs. Ulrich Fritzsche, Museum of Northwest Art Permanent Collection
Another stunning piece in the exhibition is Snake in the Garden of Eden, 1980, acrylic on canvas, by Alden Mason. Snake in the Garden of Eden is a quintessential example of the artist's squeeze-bottle paintings. The labyrinthine meandering of the pigment, its fleshy, almost tactile-to-the-eye relief create a mesmerizing experience in which we are drawn closer to follow the color lines and step back to take in the exuberance of the abstract landscape.
Image Credit: Alden Mason, "Snake in the Garden of Eden," 1980, acrylic on canvas, gift of Robert and Shaké Sarkis, Museum of Northwest Art Permanent Collection
Last but not least, Life Dugout, 2000, bronze by Ann Morris captures one's attention with the hieratic stillness of the sail, a rib cage with slender curved bones laid down to rest on a dugout canoe, tenderly suggestive of protection during our fateful life journey. I applaud to the curator's choice to put Life Dugout in conversation with Steve Jensen's towering Three Slices, 2003, cedar as Jensen who comes from a long tradition of Norwegian fishermen and boat builders has made his, in paintings, wood carvings and glass sculptures, the canoe/boat as a symbol of the passage, or voyage, to the other side.
Image Credit: Ann Morris, "Life Dugout," 2000, bronze, gift of Alex Mosely, Museum of Northwest Art Permanent Collection
Before closing, make sure to go to the upstairs galleries to see William Cumming's 1941 Mural. Recently rediscovered, it was first created for Burlington High School Farm Shop. Painted over a period of 6 months, the Mural offers surprising aspects of flatness and intuitive perspective reminiscent to an Italian like me of Giotto's and his teacher Cimabue's frescoes in Assisi and Padua. The fresco quality of the surface—probably due to the use of casein—as well as the landscape masses in the background and their modulation also immerse the figures in a timeless atmosphere, elevating them to a classical and heroic status.
Image Credit: Detail shot—William Cumming Mural, title unknown, 1941, Casein and/or tempera or oil on primed canvas, unstretched, gift of the Breckenridge Family, Museum of Northwest Art Permanent Collection
Image Credit: Giotto, Renunciation of Worldly Goods, 1290-95, Assisi, Basilica Superiore di San Francesco
I look forward to meeting you all in person in the ensuing months, whether in the galleries or on occasion of our future exhibition openings (covid-19 permitting).
Saluti,
Stefano Catalani
Executive Director | Museum of Northwest Art