John O'Hern is an arts writer, curator and retired museum director who has been providing a biweekly contemplation of a single work of art from our gallery. He is continuing his series of contemplations of various themes inspired by our gallery artists. In our fast-paced lives overflowing with information, we find it necessary and satisfying to slow down and take time to look. We hope you enjoy this perspective from John.

A number of words came up in conversation this week as possible themes for today’s episode. “Community” came up as gallerist Susan Guevera and I toured Lee Price’s stunning exhibition at the gallery—Lee’s earlier paintings featured her binge-eating alone and the new paintings depict her in groups or the detritus of a party. “Community” got me thinking about the etymology of a number of words in the same vein with the Latin prefix “com-“ or “con-“ meaning “together” or “with”. (Years of studying Latin. . . )

“Connect”, for a little more pedantry, comes from the Latin connectere, from con- ‘together’ + nectere ‘bind’. “Only connect” is the epigraph to E.M. Forster’s novel Howard’s End, referring both to connecting the parts of one’s self and connecting with others. It’s a quote I use far too often, but one that works in many contexts (from the Latin “weave together”!).

Lee’s painting Winter is an example of people having come together, celebrated and gone on. She says, “I would like people to have a sense of time passing. . . how transient life is.” The round table on the Asian rug recalls a mandala, a circular design with symbols often used to focus the mind in the meditative practices of Buddhism and Hinduism.

The plates and cups in Lee’s painting say something about each of the people who shared in the party—some didn’t finish and some couldn’t get enough, scooping up the remaining frosting with their fingers. Three left their napkins on the table (one with a smudge of chocolate) and one left it on the chair. The once carefully-laid table is now disordered, the table cloth crumbled and stained. The acts of living sometimes mess things up.

In another table setting, Alice Leora Briggs’ woodcut Where nothing, when it happens is never terrible enough, there is no connection. Two genteel ladies and a gentleman sip tea oblivious to the party behind them and to the corpse lying on the table in front of them. Decorum often demands ignoring the elephant (or the corpse) in the room or connecting at all.

Gregory Ferrand writes, “My most recent work explores the feeling and reality of being disconnected and alienated (which results in multiple personal realities), despite and sometimes because of the proximity in which we live to one and other.” In I Am Not Really Here, he reflects on our all being the same but different. “…it is incumbent upon us to reflect on how the realities we construct make us different and also how, by just being human, we are the same.” People cramped physically in the elevator quickly disperse on their separate ways. As Rudyard Kipling said, “never the twain shall meet.”

There are communities that connect, however. The rich cultural and religious heritage in Northern New Mexico of the Spanish settlers who first arrived in 1598, is still alive today. The Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe is a time of coming together and of celebrating. When Our Lady appeared to the peasant Juan Diego, she communicated with him in his native language and told him to go to the archbishop of Mexico City requesting he build a church on the site of her visitation. The archbishop was dubious and asked for a sign. Our Lady told Juan Diego to gather roses, although it was December. She put the roses in Juan Diego’s cloak and sent him to the archbishop. When Juan Diego opened his cloak, the roses tumbled to the floor and an image of Our Lady appeared on the fabric.

Nicholas Herrera, the El Rito Santero, carved and painted Dia de la Virgen de Guadalupe, depicting the Virgin in her shrine and a gathering of people worshipping and celebrating. Behind the shrine is a scene of people contributing to the daily life on a farm—sawing wood, feeding the chickens, gathering water from the well, and children playing with animals. BTW (The past participle of the Latin verb contribuere, “to bring together”.)

In Francis DiFronzo’s Crossing Paths, Part 2, communication takes place through signs—flashing red lights warn drivers to stop to let a train pass, and billboards advertise land for sale with a phone number to connect with the realtor. Contrails of passenger-filled planes cross in the sky connecting people between cities.

The connection between humans and animals was summed up by Henry Beston in his book “The Outermost House”—a favorite book and a favorite place to visit before the house was swept out to sea. He wrote, “The animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours, they move finished and complete, gifted with extension of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren; they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendor and travail of the earth.”

The connection and flow of energy between a bird and a woman is beautifully realized in Kristine Poole’s sculpture Duende. I quoted Kristine in an earlier edition of “Looking and Seeing”.

She has written, "Duende is a quality of passion and inspiration. This sculpture is about following your passion in life, represented by the bird, a Brahminy Kite. The design work on the bird's chest flows onto the woman's arm and continues across her back, highlighting the connection and communication between them. It also embodies the blossoming that occurs when passion is your guide through life. “The Brahminy Kite is often associated with Garuda, a powerful Hindu protector having the power to fly anywhere. The word Garuda has its origins in the verb "gri" - to speak. An important aspect of being guided by passion and inspiration is the ability to speak to yourself and others what is true for you. This opens the door to the unique path that is yours alone to wander. “Adding another level of meaning, her right hand that the Kite rests on is in the "Palli Mudra" --a hand symbol that represents listening to your inner voice and having confidence in yourself.”

We are learning more and more about physical connections in nature—and entanglement in quantum physics in which particles are connected despite being separated physically by great distances--a phenomenon with which my brain struggles to connect.

Michael Scott’s Old Growth Forest is rich with connections that take place in the Olympic rain forest in Washington State. Trees grow and die, returning their nutrients to the soil. While living, the trees communicate via fungi in the soil called mycorrhizal networks and through the air by chemical signals, like pheromones. The interconnected flora of the forest connect with us on a different level. Michael writes, “Evening Light passing through a mature forest is an irresistible birth of color and a special chapter within a moment. These moments like droplets of moisture extend and expand us. The human mind has claimed this damp forest floor a pillow for the soul.”

In her book, “Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants”, Robin Wall Kimmerer (Potawatomi) writes, “The trees act not as individuals, but somehow as a collective. Exactly how they do this, we don’t yet know. But what we see is the power of unity. What happens to one happens to us all. We can starve together or feast together.”