Friday, January 16, 2009

Farewell Andrew Wyeth

http://i293.photobucket.com/albums/mm54/idreaminrgb/Andrew-Wyeth-SnowHill.jpg
Snow Hill

http://pavans.net/Musee/Wyeth_wind_from_the_sea.jpg
Wind from the Sea

http://redellwhite.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/01/wyeth-curtain-call.jpg
Curtain Call

Andrew Wyeth died today at age 91. He was America's best known and beloved artist, (I especially love his work!) He painted and lived in Chadds Ford, PA where he lived and worked his whole life (and on his island in Maine). I can never look at the bark of a tree or the wintry landscape of rural PA or New England without thinking of him and his ability to capture the seemingly mundane and everyday so well and with such an imbued sense of presence and life. These paintings are especially haunting in their hint of loss. "Snow Hill" is particularly eerie as Wyeth depicted his deceased friends dancing around the May pole on a snowy hill, I'm certain he'll now be with them in celebration.

8 comments:

Aliena said...

I didn't know him, but that Wind from the sea has fascinated me. I can almost feel the breeze on my face!!!

Laura Ingalls Gunn said...

I have one small tear rolling down my cheek. One for not knowing that this BRILLIANT man had passed and another for the wonderful beauty that is his work.

SleightGirl said...

I'm not familiar with his work, but from what you showed, it's beautiful...I'll have to do a google search.

Leigh said...

These are so beautiful, I could get lost forever in "wind from the sea".

RIP.

miss cavendish said...

LOVE the red coat painting . . .

Ben Watson III said...

I spent an afternoon with Andy on a cold day in Janurary 2005 in Chadds Ford, PA at the home of Karl Kuerner. An artist of wit and wisdom.
It was a splendid day.

I did a painting last year of my experience.

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Paul Brickley said...

My first impression regarding Andrew Wyeth is that no other artist knew the coldness, and stillness, of winter like that man. His gift was not so much for the exactness of his realism; the photorealists do that unto itself better. His gift was his connection to the viewer; a familiarity and comfort which very few artists have ever been able to establish. His technical ability is legendary, and rightfully so, although it seems as though it only serves to create another reality, different than ours; somehow more inviting, more clearly understood. He was, and shall remain, one of the very few genuine giants of modern art. No, I did not know Andrew Wyeth, but I loved him just the same. His work has made my world richer and fuller than it could have otherwise been, and that is a debt that I could never repay.