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It’s generally thought of as the worst traffic fortnight in Manhattan: the weeks-long proceedings of the United Nations General Assembly, which ensnares all travel patterns on the east side of the island. Road closures, idling black cars, and battalions of cops and Secret Service agents make swaths of Midtown impossible-to-transverse hellscapes for a few days every September. By Tuesday evening, the construction around the JPMorgan supertall that’s taking over a full block on Park Avenue only added to the chaos, as did the flurry of e-biking meal couriers delivering sad desk dinners to still-working bankers. And that’s when President Joe Biden’s motorcade rolled through.
Amid the Midtown madness outside, a wonderful calm fell upon the sixth floor of the Museum of Modern Art on 53rd Street. A retrospective of the marvelously unclassifiable German artist Thomas Schütte had taken over the Steven and Alexandra Cohen Center for Special Exhibitions, installed just in time for the opening cocktails. Met director Max Hollein, who told me he’s quite fond of Schütte and put him in several shows, walked into the room and marveled at the 12-foot-tall sculpture Vater Staat (Father State), on loan from the collection of Ken Griffin’s ex-wife, Anne Dias. A few floors down was a retrospective of the photographer Robert Frank—pics ranging from Beats goofing off to the Stones recording Exile on Main St.—and in the sculpture garden below, two full bars boozed up Gotham’s patrons of the arts.
Something else was in the air too. It had been a few weeks since MoMA director Glenn Lowry announced that he would be stepping down from the role in September 2025, which was not a shock, exactly—the usual age of retirement at MoMA is 65, and Lowry’s pushing 70. But his widely acknowledged successes led him to stay on for an extra five-year term that expires next year. And now that it’s official, all people can talk about when they talk about MoMA is…who will be tapped to run MoMA.
Understandably so. The job is arguably the plummest perch in all of museum-dom. Lowry’s had it for 30 years, reshaping the institution as the role of museum director itself shifted immensely across the field. Aside from a few dustups—various protests, a disgruntled ex-member’s alleged stabbing spree, the Björk show—Lowry’s a revered figure in the field. His departure announcement prompted a chorus of hosannas for his tenure followed by an inevitable question: Who can follow up a polymathic director beloved by both the budget teams and the curatorial teams, one who oversaw two renovation campaigns and is leaving the museum’s coffers fuller than they’ve ever been?
Vater Staat (Father State), 2010 (detail). Patinated bronze. 149 5/8 × 61 × 55″ (380 × 155 × 139.7 cm).Collection Anne Dias Griffin, Photo by Steven E. Gross. 2024 Thomas Schütte / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn.
“The thing that’s remarkable about Glenn—I’ve often been disturbed by how he has been framed as corporate, because he is immensely capable of using both sides of his brain. As I have often said to people, do you want a director who can’t count?” said Kathy Halbreich, who served as the associate director under Lowry for a decade of his tenure. “You must have a director that is able to be an equal in terms of financial planning, investment, and the financial side of the institution—and you want a director who is passionate about modern and contemporary art.
And now someone needs to follow in his footsteps. Halbreich, like many others contacted for this story, did not want to go on the record naming names—out of respect for the process, of course, but also because there’s a chance that all the prognosticators are dead wrong. It’s unlikely that the art cognoscenti were able to predict, in 1995, that the board of the world’s most prominent postwar art institution would pick Lowry, who specialized in Islamic studies and was then the director of the Art Gallery of Ontario.
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Nate Freeman
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The task of creating the film’s poster fell to British artist Ralph Steadman, whose jagged, hallucinatory illustrations had been integral to both Rolling Stone’s aesthetic and the Fear and Loathing books. (Unlike Thompson’s recreational—some would say Olympian—drug use, Steadman chose not to partake.) In the years since, the Thompson-Steadman partnership had become the stuff of legend, like a fire-breathing Butch and Sundance storming through the latter half of the American century, shattering every establishment rule with fearless, hilarious gall.
And so, just as Steadman had been the inevitable choice for marketing Linson’s film, he became the inevitable choice of wingman after Thompson got his first, horrified look at the screenplay draft by John Kaye, with whom Thompson would share screenwriting credit. “Call me at once,” Thompson wrote to Steadman via emergency cable. (Yes, in those days, Thompson often preferred to communicate by telegram, Telex, or fax.) In typically paranoid fashion, Thompson warned: “Cancel all repeat all art and publish contracts in re: Buffalo film until we talk. The buggers are worse than we thought. Brutal dealings with Linson tonite confirms our worst repeat worst fears.… The ravens have come home to roost. Like we always knew they would.… The film is doomed.” Hardly. Bill Murray’s portrayal of Thompson was praised by critics, and even though the movie received mixed reviews, it became something of a cult favorite.
Fear and Loathing in Elko for Rolling Stone Magazine, 1991, ink on paper.© Ralph Steadman Art Collection Ltd.
A doctored Hunter S.Thompson drawing, 1982, Conte on paper.© Ralph Steadman Art Collection Ltd.
In the half-century since Thompson’s greatest successes and failures, his image and style have inspired a lot of ink from generations of imitators, but Steadman’s role is sometimes lost or underappreciated in all that gonzo wordslaying. The fact is, his illustrations and Thompson’s words formed one of the most powerful and symbiotic art partnerships in American letters (think Walker Evans and James Agee), with Steadman’s art acting as a kinetic delivery vehicle for the mise-en-scène of Thompson’s purposeful anarchy.
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Douglas Brinkley
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Want an activity that will have your students blooming in your classroom? Elementary school is the perfect time to nurture the inner artist that lives in every child. What better way than to encourage them to learn to draw something beautiful like a rose? Our free printable has step-by-step instructions for teaching kids how to draw a rose. Make it a fun Friday group activity or keep it on hand for your fast finishers!
There’s a video tutorial and images with step-by-step instructions. Plus, be sure to download the free printable instructions so kids can easily follow along.
There are six easy-to-follow steps below for teaching kids how to draw a rose. They should simplify the process for kids of all ages and abilities.

Are you ready to save and print your free rose-drawing printable? All you need to do is click the button below to fill out the form at the top of this page.
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Kristy Zamagni-Twomey, B.S., ELA and Fine Arts
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As one of fashion’s most in-demand photographers and stylists, respectively, Ethan James Green and Gabriella Karefa-Johnson are used to creating unforgettable images together. But they’re typically crafting editorials and cover stories for A-list stars like Margot Robbie and Gigi Hadid among many others. Their latest collaboration, however, is something altogether different. For Green’s Bombshell series, Karefa-Johnson stepped in front of the camera, and, aside from a pair of Manolo Blahniks (worn for their alluring power), there’s very little fashion. “I want boobs and ass! That’s what I’m trying to give!” says Karefa-Johnson.
Green’s photographs are known for their intimacy and, especially in his personal works, their exploration of beauty beyond staid mainstream standards. But there’s nothing calculated about his methods. Their power comes from their authenticity. For Bombshell, a collection of portraits first featured in book format and is now on view at New York City’s Kapp Kapp gallery through October 26, Green tasked friends, collaborators and muses like Hari Nef, Dara, Martine, and Connie Fleming with inhabiting their deepest bombshell fantasies. Collectively, the project serves not only as an interrogation of what qualifies as “bombshell” beauty but as a powerful body of work created among close-knit friends who encourage you to inhabit your own inner bombshell.
How did the bombshell series come about?
Ethan James Green: [Hairstylist] Lucas Wilson asked to do a hair test with my friend Marcs, and it was just this kind of hair play day at my studio. Marcs brought lingerie and some things from the flower market. Lucas did really exciting big hair with wigs. The entire day we just kept calling Marcs a bombshell. Everyone in the studio was saying “bombshell! bombshell!” There was a formula that revealed itself and we wanted to keep on doing it. Just telling people, let’s do bombshell pictures. Bring what you want to wear, it can be whatever you want. Sit in the hair chair with the hair artist and see where it goes. I’ll just document it.
Gabriella, what was your relationship to the word bombshell?
Gabriella Karefa-Johnson: Like most women, I grew up with the notion that “bombshell” had to mean an overt and very singular type of sexiness. Funnily enough, instead of trying to redefine what that meant in my mind before going to sit for Ethan, I really leaned into the definition that I knew growing up. I was like, “I want boobs and ass! That’s what I’m trying to give!” But ultimately, it’s always been a fraught relationship with that word. I grew up with a definition that didn’t necessarily include someone that looked like me. So it was fun to inhabit the bombshell persona, which was obviously hidden inside of me all these years. Ethan pulled it out.
Did you have any specific references for the shoot?
GKJ: I’m a child of the nineties and grew up in the early 2000s. I thought, well, I’m going to be Tyra Banks in Sports Illustrated, and it didn’t end up being that picture at all. I came in with all this bravado, and Luca did this amazing wig with all the height of the Anna Nicole Smith era. It was something so familiar to me, but I kind of shrinked a little bit. I almost had stage fright, so I didn’t quite get to the Tyra level. I think I’m going to need to do it again with Ethan at some point.
Do you remember the first time working together as stylist and photographer?
GKJ: I think Vogue put us together to shoot Gigi Hadid. It was really magical. Because we knew each other socially before we started working together professionally, there was no pretense. It was just very much organically centering fun, joy and happiness. I think the pictures really reflect that.
EJG: We both come from a similar school with a similar appreciation for how to create a picture. So it makes it really fun to collaborate in different ways.
GKJ: We’re still very excited about fashion and still very much fans of fashion.
How did you determine who would be the subjects for this project?
EJG: A lot of the subjects in the book I get to work with behind the scenes. Everybody was familiar with my work in a way that is much more in-depth than just your average viewer. Being able to collaborate in another way where they understand you and what you want to do is such a privilege. I started with people that are in my life. I’m a workaholic, so many of those people I met through work.
GKJ: Ethan is such an incredible auteur and artful documentarian of our time. It felt like a privilege to be canonized in one of his images and really capture this moment of all of these fabulous women feeling beautiful, empowered, and sexy. Being part of that crew, I was one of the cool kids for the day.
EJG: You’re always one of the cool kids, Gab.
Can you elaborate a little bit about that collaboration between subject and photographer?
EJG: David Armstrong once told me that 90 percent of a picture is who you’re photographing. The more that I photograph, the more I agree with that. Especially if you’re doing something when someone is so comfortable to be vulnerable with you. If you’re doing a sexy picture, that person’s giving you a lot. If you don’t have the right person who’s in it with you, you can’t go far.
Gabriella, you’ve been in front of the camera before. You’ve been in W. Do these experiences give you a new point of view when you’re working behind the scenes?
GKJ: Absolutely. It’s such an extraordinary labor to be vulnerable in someone else’s eyes, and going from behind the camera to in front of the camera really refracted that experience for me. I understood that sometimes that trust and connection with the person behind the lens is so much more powerful than sometimes I give credence to. Whether it’s giving direction or being able to interpret somebody’s body language for slight insecurity, Ethan so adeptly manages that relationship. It also gave me a new perspective on working with him as a stylist because I was like, ‘Oh my God, this man is pulling double duty over here!’ He is really locked into making the experience smooth, easy and comfortable for the model while delivering the picture and staying true to his vision. I just had a brand new respect because I have been in front of the camera before, but not in front of a camera like Ethan’s camera, so that was very special.
That relationship really comes across in the photographs.
GKJ: My only regret is that I wasn’t fully nude. I’m like, I should have popped those panties right off.
EJG: There’s still time, Gabs!
GKJ: Good! See you at the studio in t-minus six hours! [Laughs]. There is a real intimacy in the relationship because it’s not like, ‘Okay, pose, I’m taking the photo.’ He is finding the in-between and most honest moments.
Ethan, a lot of your personal work has been more documentarian and a lot of your fashion work is necessarily more fantasy. Where do you think this project lies on that spectrum?
EJG: It lands kind of in the middle. There’s always going to be a bit of fashion to my work, even if it’s personal, but because it was this kind of playing around with a character and bringing in people like Lucas [Wilson] or Sonny [Molina] or Jimmy [Paul], people doing the hair, it really opens up a possibility that isn’t normally there. I was documenting a lot of other people’s fantasies or their idea of this bombshell character. There were elements of the fashion image, but with the freedom of a personal project. So it was a really fun mashup. I like that middle point.
GKJ: Were you shocked or surprised by the persona anyone inhabited? I feel like everyone in the book is already very much a bombshell and hot in life.
EJG: All the people I asked, I could feel that that bombshell character was there. I already saw them as a bombshell in a way. A lot of my friends enjoy making pictures, but also existing in them. It can get competitive, which is really fun.
Do you think your idea of what bombshell means changed during the process?
EJG: I went into it thinking if someone wants to be a bombshell, they’re a bombshell. All you have to do is want to be a bombshell.
Why do you think people want to be a bombshell?
EJG: It’s a powerful feeling. I think most people want to be sexy, right?
GKJ: In the era of demure, you want to be sexy.
It must have been a rush inhabiting that character.
GKJ: Something changes chemically in your brain. It was a very addictive feeling. I didn’t want the shoot to end. It was so painful, but I was like, I have to keep these fucking Manolos on the entire time. It’s giving me something. I’m not always in Manolos, I’m not always showing it all and being really bare in all senses of the word. I want to do it again. It feels like a fantasy.
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If eyes are windows to the soul, then the eyes in William Stoehr’s paintings convey the isolation and despair that come with addiction and depression. They are lonely and haunting, especially in one of the pieces he painted of his late sister.
Her eyes are dark and sunken. Perhaps she has been crying. In the bottom left corner, Stoehr etched the words: DAD CALLED EMMA OD’d HER SOUL IS AT REST.
Stoehr and his wife, Mary Kay, used to help people find their way with topographical maps. They are the couple who built Trails Illustrated — a company revered by serious hikers, backpackers and outdoor enthusiasts — into a must-have standard. But over the past two decades, Stoehr laid out a second-act career as an artist and self-professed mental health activist, seeking to lead viewers into an empathetic understanding of mental health and the stigma of addiction that inhibits diagnosis, treatment and recovery.
All of his pieces depict abstract faces that fill large canvases, usually measuring 5 feet by 7 feet. He starts with the eyes but says viewers finish the work in their minds, creating what he calls “a greater reality.” He says neuroscience backs that up.
“I put the tools there for you to create the painting,” Stoehr explained in his studio at the couple’s home in Boulder. “You pick up on the part of the face you identify with, and you create the narrative. I lose control of the painting the minute it’s seen by someone else. They reinterpret it, based on how they feel at that moment or what their life experiences are. People stand before my paintings and cry. It’s bringing back some memories deep inside.”
In another painting of Emma (not his sister’s real name), her face is dark black. Barely visible eyes are the only facial features the viewer sees. It’s the painting he promised her he would create if she agreed to go into rehab. She went — her third round of treatment — and was sober for five years until she died from an overdose of prescription pain medication.
“This painting, people just break down and cry,” Stoehr said. “That’s a seven-foot painting, just black spots and two eyes. People say, ‘You captured exactly how I feel,’ or, ‘This is what depression feels like.’”
Stoehr, who most people call Bill, and Mary Kay grew up in Wisconsin and met in a lunch line while attending the University of Wisconsin-Stout. She became a teacher and he went into industrial engineering after graduation.
But they had always wanted to live in the West, so they moved to Colorado in 1982. Two years later, Bill severely broke his leg while skiing, leaving him desperate for something physical to do during his recovery. His doctor said he could ride a bike, so they took up mountain biking, which was just becoming a thing. Stoehr discovered there weren’t any good guidebooks for mountain biking on the Front Range, so he wrote two.
Looking to duplicate a map for one of his books in 1985, Stoehr went to see Kaaren Hardenbrook, who owned Trails Illustrated at the time. One bedroom of her Littleton home was devoted to cartography and sales, Stoehr discovered, while the garage was for inventory and shipping. During their meeting, she looked at her watch and abruptly told Stoehr she had to run because she had an appointment with her CPA. She was selling the company.
That evening, on their nightly walk together, Bill told Mary Kay what happened. She slugged him playfully and said, “What are we waiting for? Let’s buy it!”
They owned Trails Illustrated for 10 years. Working with U.S. Geological Survey topographical quad maps, they painstakingly pieced together their own maps on light tables in the basement of their Evergreen home. They met with National Park Service personnel to add informational notes and features that hikers needed. They knew their audience, because they also were avid backpackers.
“We were able to go to USGS in Denver and say, ‘We’re doing a map of Denali National Park. What do you have?’ Mary Kay explained. “They would then reproduce for us photographic negatives. We would buy the base information – the topo lines, the blue which was water, the green which was wooded cover, another layer that was private property, another layer that was roads. Those negatives we would bring back, and on light tables, splice maps to together.”
First-year sales totaled $28,000. From there, they built up the Trails Illustrated inventory and enhanced its brand. In the late 1990s, National Geographic came calling, looking to expand beyond its membership base by entering the for-profit world with books, maps, television and movies.
“They needed somebody to do maps,” Mary Kay said. “They had like 50 cartographers, but nobody knew how to get maps into distribution, because up until that point, (National Geographic) only went to members. They wanted to get into bookstores, map stores, REI, everywhere.”
National Geographic rebranded Trails Illustrated’s look with the magazine’s yellow and black colors, and hired the Stoehrs to run it. Soon they named Bill president of National Geographic maps. Mary Kay left after five years, but Bill remained until he retired in 2004 to pursue the dream he’d had as a teenager: to become an artist.

Stoehr (pronounced Stare) begins a painting by sketching the eyes, nose, lips and chin on a canvas held vertical on an easel. Then he tips the easel into a horizontal position. He brushes, pours, splashes and dribbles watered-down acrylic paint wherever his spirit moves him. Sometimes he spreads paint with a squeegee.
He also uses paper towels — what he calls his “secret sauce” — to dab and create intricate patterns. “I only use Bounty, because I like the pattern and I’m used to how it absorbs,” said Stoehr, 76. “That’s the first layer. Then I’ll put varnish on it, acrylic varnish. It dries in like 10 minutes. Then I’ll put down another layer and another layer.”
It’s not unlike the color separations that went into printing Trails Illustrated maps. That connection is not lost on Stoehr, although it didn’t occur to him until others pointed it out to him.
“A map is made in layers,” Stoehr said. “They print one color, then another and another — exactly how I paint.”
Over the years, his work has been in more than 120 exhibits and 30 one-person shows. They are part art appreciation, part education about substance-use disorders.
“It’s more than an art show,” Stoehr said. “What I say is, come for the art, stay for the message.”
It only took Stoehr 40 years to find his message and platform. He wanted to go to art school when he was 17 but couldn’t afford it. He became a full-time artist after retiring from Trails Illustrated at age 55 and got his first break from Michael Burnett, the owner of Space Gallery in Denver’s Art District on Santa Fe.
“I walked in with a roll of paintings, spread them out and said, ‘Just give me five minutes. If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. If you want me to go, I’ll go.’ He looked at me and said, ‘Well, I just had someone cancel out of a show and I need an artist.’ So he took me on.”
Burnett later gave him advice that proved pivotal.
“I said, ‘I’m having fun with the painting part of it, but it doesn’t have soul, and it’s not hanging together as a group (of paintings),’” Stoehr said. Burnett replied, “‘Why don’t you start doing big faces? You really do faces well.’ So I started doing big faces, and I haven’t looked back. Shortly thereafter, my sister died of an opioid overdose.”
From her tragic life and death came his mission.
“I was at a point of saying, ‘What good is your art? What are you accomplishing?’ ” Stoehr said. “Suddenly I could be an activist about stigma. I started painting what I called victims, witnesses and survivors. I didn’t consider myself a victim, and I wasn’t a survivor, but I was a witness to my sister. I was very involved in trying to get her into proper care for several years. The thing I could do as a witness was to work on the stigma, because the stigma keeps people from care.”

Stoehr’s sister got into drinking and drugs while growing up in small-town Wisconsin. She married a man with the same issues, so they became codependent alcoholics and drug users. After she developed back problems that resulted in two failed surgeries, she became addicted to prescription opioids. There were two failed attempts at rehab in residential treatment facilities.
On a last-ditch visit to Wisconsin, Stoehr begged her to go into rehab for the third time, telling her he wasn’t leaving until she agreed. She finally relented but when she called her doctor, who was home with his family on a Sunday, he told her to call back when he was in the office. Then he hung up on her.
“She threw the phone down, started crying, ran to her room and slammed the door,” Stoehr said.
Stoehr pleaded with her to come out. Then he remembered how much she loved his art and wanted him to paint her. He blurted out the words he would later put on one of her portraits, the one where her face is an all-black figure: “I promise to paint your portrait if you promise to go into rehab.”
The door opened and she agreed.

“She was good for five years,” Stoehr said. “She would be good today if she hadn’t had another back surgery and they gave her the opioids.”
She died in 2012. Her death was ruled accidental.
Driving up Boulder Canyon one day to go hiking with Mary Kay, Stoehr got a call on his cellphone from a man who had seen one of Emma’s portraits. He didn’t recognize the number, but took the call and put it on speaker.
“This guy said, ‘Oh my God, I didn’t think I’d get to you.’ He’s crying and he said, ‘My daughter’s name is Emma, she OD’d and died.’ I’m trying to drive, I’m crying, Mary’s crying. It’s brutal.”
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John Meyer
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Inside Denver International Airport’s newest train. July 2, 2024.
Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
Hundreds of thousands of Denverites have heard Jim Green’s work — but they may not have realized it was art.
“Train Call” is the official name for the jingles — musical riffs, clanks and chimes — that accompany announcements on the trains at Denver International Airport. The recordings are so popular the airport made them available as ringtones a few years back.
It’s one of numerous installations of Green’s work around the city. If you’ve ever been surprised by strange sounds drifting up from grates along Curtis Street, had an escalator laugh at you at the Convention Center or found yourself serenaded by a sink at the Denver Art Museum, you’ve encountered Green’s art.
Green, who had relocated from Colorado to Florida, died earlier this week at the age of 75, as Westword and The Denver Post reported.
“I like the idea of kind of nudging people out of their routine a bit, creating a surprise. I think that people need surprises,” he told CPR News for a profile in 2010.
Green started out studying sculpture and painting at CU Boulder, but lost patience with the visual arts halfway through and began recording the people around him. He described his work as audio folk art; for gallery shows, he’d rig a bunch of headphones to the walls and invite people in to listen.
And he was playful with his art: For one piece, he created walls of self-squeezing whoopee cushions at the Children’s Museum of Denver and at the Museum of Contemporary Art, startling and delighting visitors with their rude exhalations.
“I think that in some ways Jim’s art does shock,” said Gwen Chanzit, who was a Denver Art Museum curator at the time, in 2010. “Provocation can be a good thing. It doesn’t have to be something that is unpleasant. In fact, I think that to provoke in a good way is a wonderful thing.”
Green also made a specialty of public art. He pointed out that a lot of the sounds that fill our public spaces — from elevator buzzes to car horns — are designed to alarm, and believed an artist’s touch could help soothe that audio landscape.
“I think public art functions best when it humanizes public space,” said Green. “A lot of times I really feel like I’m trying to remove some of the separation people feel in public spaces.”
Denver Arts and Venues, a city agency, marked Green’s passing Friday. “Jim’s ability to infuse joy into public spaces, combined with his uplifting spirit, will be missed by all,” read a remembrance on Facebook.
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Megan Verlee
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Want an activity that will bring a little spice (namely of the pumpkin variety) into the classroom? School is the perfect time to nurture the inner artist that lives in every child. What better way than to encourage kids to learn to draw something fun and seasonal? Our free printable has step-by-step instructions for teaching kids how to draw a pumpkin. Make it a fun Friday group activity or keep it on hand for your fast finishers.
There’s a video tutorial and images with step-by-step instructions. Plus, be sure to download the free printable instructions so kids can easily follow along.
There are six easy-to-follow steps below for teaching kids how to draw a pumpkin. They should simplify the process for kids of all ages and abilities.

Are you ready to save and print your free pumpkin-drawing printable? All you need to do is click the button below to fill out the form at the top of this page.
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Kristy Zamagni-Twomey, B.S., ELA and Fine Arts
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NEWBURYPORT — Outdoor Sculpture has returned to Maudslay State Park. The exhibition runs through Sept. 29.
An artist reception and self-guided tour takes place Sunday, Sept. 15, at 2 p.m. at Maudslay State Park. Stop by Riverwalk Brewing Company on Saturday, Sept. 14, at 6 p.m. for a “Thread” photo exhibit and meet the artists celebration.
Among the artists are Nancy Dudley, and Lynne and Jay Havighurst, all of Essex;dCharles Edward Brewer, Kerry Mullen and Sinikka Nogelo, all of Gloucester; Nina Kruschwitz of Ipswich; and Cape Ann native James Seavey. Caroline Bagenal, the Geotemann Artist in Residence at Ocean Alliance in Gloucester through Oct. 2, also has piece in the show.
For 25 years, Outdoor Sculpture at Maudslay has provided a three-week non-juried exhibition featuring local artists and community members interested in sharing their understanding of the world through site-specific sculptures in Maudslay State Park. The annual show, which has produced over 950 works of art, is open to all artists with a connection to the North Shore and Merrimack Valley and is organized by participating artists who volunteer their time and materials. Reflecting upon the desire to explore material boundaries, concepts, and themselves, this year’s group of 49-plus artists chose “Thread” as the theme for the 25th anniversary show.
Participants include a poet laureate, a retired art teacher, a former puppeteer, a former African wildlife conservation worker, at least two graphic designers, a store owner, an author/illustrator, homeschool students, a bass player, a Reiki healer, a former town selectman, two web designers, a yoga instructor, a machine builder, a structural engineer, a ceramics engineer, an architect, a multimedia composer/musician, and more.
For the first time, there will also be artworks across the street at the park’s music pasture, near where summer concerts are held. These include a 10-foot-wide flower, a labyrinth, an 8-foot-by-8-foot fan, a bridge of sticks and rope, and more. Altogether, there will be 49 installations for viewers to ponder.
Winner of a 2005 Gold Star Award from the Massachusetts Cultural Council, Outdoor Sculpture at Maudslay has been recognized as a model community art project celebrating quality, accessibility, diversity, and collaboration. Outdoor Sculpture at Maudslay is supported in part by grants from the Amesbury, Georgetown, Groveland, Merrimac, Newbury, Newburyport, Rowley, Salisbury, and West Newbury Cultural Councils, local agencies that are supported by the Massachusetts Cultural Council, a state agency.
Free printed catalogs will be available in artistic mailboxes at the two main entrances to the park. Trailhead signs will provide instructions for downloading a simple virtual catalog, including the map, photos of each piece, artist’s statements, and their bios.
Maudslay State Park is located at 74 Curzon Mill Road, Newburyport.
More information is available by visiting www.maudslaysculpture.org, or www.facebook.com/SculptureAtMaudslay/
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By Times Staff
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The Ahl family of Newbury had art on display at the Gloucester Society of Artists galleries, according to the newspaper on this day in 1927. Henry Hammond Ahl; his wife, Eleanor Curtis Ahl; and their son Henry Curtis Ahl each…
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Rare is the fashion model whose career has legs as long as her own. For every Carmen Dell’Orefice, Naomi Campbell, or Kate Moss, there are thousands who disappear—none, perhaps, more effectively than Iria Leino. Along with Bettina and Dovima, the Finnish American beauty was one of the first models to go by a single name; then, in 1964, she fled fashion forever.
Now Leino is having a comeback, not as a model of brief renown in Europe, but as the artist she was in New York. This month, two years after her death, at 90, from leukemia, Harper’s gallery in New York is introducing that Leino: an obsessive painter of luminous abstractions with only one solo U.S. show to her credit.
That show was in 1966.
A portrait of Iria Leino by Georges Saad, c. 1961.
Courtesy Archives of the Iria Leino Trust.
Probably no one in the art world today remembers the exhibition or its venue, the Panoras Gallery, a long defunct midtown emporium where a graduate student named Donald Judd had debuted as a painter 10 years prior. But Leino’s exhibition did not go unheeded: It brought her press, at least one big sale—to the fashion designer and art collector Larry Aldrich—and, to top it all off, a spot on The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson.
Leino with her painting Garden of Eden, c. 1980.
Courtesy of Harper’s Gallery
The number of visual artists invited onto late-night television in those days was about the same as it is now: almost none, unless they were media hounds like Salvador Dalí and Andy Warhol, or painted themselves in the nude at the age of 80, as did Alice Neel. But instead of capitalizing on that acclaim, Leino went into seclusion. After a freak accident in 1968 caused a head injury that required brain surgery, she converted to Buddhism, to which she had initially been introduced by “Gurudev,” the populist Sri Swami Satchidananda. In her will, she named the two yoga centers he founded, in New York and Virginia, her only beneficiaries.
“She went to Integral Yoga Institute and sat in the back of a room with a hundred people,” says Robert Saasto, an attorney and the executor of her estate. “She felt she had an out-of-body experience with the swami, eyeball to eyeball, and she was hooked.”
Leino remained devoted to painting, however, even though she barely scraped by. Her refusal to submit to a patriarchal system that largely discounted women contributed to her obscurity. In the early 1980s, she even sent the power dealer Leo Castelli packing, and rarely permitted anyone to see her work again. “She was very ‘my way or the highway,’ ” says Varpu Sihvonen, a Finnish journalist who worked in New York and is one of the few people alive to have known the artist well. “Very, very private. If I asked to see her paintings, she would say, ‘Yes, but not now.’ That was her way of saying no.”
Leino in Paris during her modeling days, c. 1963.
Courtesy of the Archives of the Iria Leino Trust
Harper Levine is saying yes. A bookseller and art dealer who operates a hybrid gallery and rare bookstore in East Hampton, as well as two galleries in Manhattan, he is showing canvases from Leino’s “Color Field” and “Buddhist Rain” series, two distinct bodies of work that she made in the late 1960s and early ’70s, respectively. “Those paintings spoke to me,” he says. “Their strangeness makes them compelling, and this was a great opportunity to bring what I believe is a historically important voice into the current dialogue around painting.”
Nonetheless, it’s a risky proposition for a contemporary dealer to introduce a deceased 20th-century modernist with no track record to a skittish election-year market. “I think there’s a real hunger among collectors for artists who were forgotten or never known,” Levine counters. As proof, he cites Vivian Springford, an American contemporary of Leino’s who fell by the wayside; today her abstractions sell at auction for six figures. Another case is the recent runaway success of the late Dutch painter Jacqueline de Jong.
Levine did not find his way to Leino on his own. He got wind of her through Peter Hastings Falk, an art historian who is writing a critical biography about her. Falk has rather heroically cataloged the hundreds of unseen paintings that Leino left in her dusty SoHo loft, along with voluminous diaries and letters in Finnish, English, and French that he is still deciphering.
A fabric design Leino created for Marimekko, 1964–65.
Courtesy of the Archives of the Iria Leino Trust
Falk has made a specialty of resurrecting neglected artists and features them in his online magazine, Discoveries in American Art—one reason Saasto gave him the job. The lawyer describes Leino’s loft as “stacked with art everywhere, and all this cardboard! You could hardly walk. I went there with the head of the Finnish Cultural Institute in New York. He said three things were needed to make any artist successful: One was a lot of art; we had that. Second, it had to be unique. And third, we’d need a good story—and her story is beyond.”
Born Taiteilija Irja Leino in Helsinki, Leino graduated from the city’s Academy of Fine Arts in 1955 with a degree in fashion design. One mentor was Tapio Wirkkala, the acclaimed Finnish designer of glassware, stoneware, and furniture. He supported Leino’s application to the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris, and over two years there, she studied painting while reporting on the latest couture for Finnish magazines and newspapers.
At just five feet six, Leino was not an obvious candidate for modeling, but her broad shoulders, Nordic complexion, and high cheekbones attracted Madame Grès; the designer was soon outflanked by a young Karl Lagerfeld, who persuaded his boss, Pierre Balmain, to hire her. Soon Leino was walking for Christian Dior, Pierre Cardin, and Yves Saint Laurent. Magazine editors came calling. So did photographers such as Claire Aho, a Finnish groundbreaker in color photography, and the erotically inclined Jean Clemmer, Dalí’s frequent collaborator. By 1960, Leino had enough money to buy a one-bedroom apartment in the 6th arrondissement of Paris and a farmhouse in Taormina, Sicily, her summer retreat.
Leino at work on a large “Color Field” painting in her New York loft, 1968.
Courtesy of the Archives of the Iria Leino Trust
It wasn’t all easy, though. The constant reminders to be vigilant about her weight led Leino, who already had a compulsive nature, to anorexia and bulimia. When Saint Laurent remarked that her hourglass figure was too “sexy,” or voluptuous, she resolved to become “the thinnest girl in Paris.” Her eating disorders sent her deeper into a depression that had begun with the death of the woman who raised her. (Her mother, who had not been married to her father, died when Leino was 6.)
She longed for an escape into art. Deluding herself into believing that a move to New York would cure her, she packed up her wardrobe and her easel and left Paris in 1964. With help from an unnamed patron—possibly Wirkkala—she sublet an Upper East Side apartment and began classes at the Art Students League on a scholarship. Her favorite teacher was the irascible (and still active) Larry Poons, then widely celebrated for his vibrant “dot” paintings. (In 2018, he reemerged as the poignant 80-year-old star of The Price of Everything, a documentary on HBO about the contemporary art market.) “All I remember about Iria,” he says, “is that hers was a very lively class, and that she was attractive but very quiet.”
Though barely conversant in English, Leino learned of artists colonizing raw, high-ceilinged lofts in SoHo and snagged a 4,000-square-foot space on the sixth floor of a cast-iron building that had no elevator. The rent was $650 a month—or $350 with the subsidy she received from a foundation. New York was Fun City then, and Leino was attending “tie-only” parties with the best of the art crowd, never as short of boyfriends as she was of money.
For years, her only income came from leasing her apartment in Paris—a collaboration with Marimekko for the use of her designs did not pan out—but still she continued to maintain that she didn’t need to exhibit or promote her paintings. “When the time is right,” she told Sihvonen, “people will come to me.” What money she had went into making her art, which at first entailed her staining unprimed canvas, Morris Louis– and Helen Frankenthaler–style, by pouring paint. Later on, she made what Falk describes as a thick gruel of powdered pigment and an acrylic emulsion that she slathered on canvas with a trowel, her hands, or a stucco applicator, sometimes embedding the surface with stones. (She also seems to have anticipated Gerhard Richter’s use of a squeegee.) Throughout, she grew increasingly withdrawn—something that, for Levine, seems supremely ironic. As he points out, “Iria repudiated the New York art world while living at its center.”
In her diaries, she noted every morsel of her vegetarian diet. “She loved Chinese food,” Sihvonen says. “Especially tofu. She didn’t drink coffee—only green tea or water. No alcohol or even fruit juice. But she always wore high heels, even at home. In her last years, she always wore black and purple, and I never saw her without makeup.” Nor did a day go by without the meditations she had learned from Gurudev. “She would repeat and repeat a chant, and then start painting and be in another world,” says Saasto, one of the rare people who have ever watched her work. She did continue to visit galleries and attract men—an affair with the married painter Stanley Boxer went on for years—but she never wed anyone. “I love to love,” she confessed, “but I’m saving my energy for painting.”
Leino in a modeling shot, c. 1963.
Courtesy of the Archives of the Iria Leino Trust
The fashion pendulum briefly swung her way again in 2000, when the streetwise Moroccan French designer Claude Sabbah opened a store in NoLIta selling avant-garde, made-to-order clothes that were catnip for hip-hop stars such as Lauryn Hill and Eve, as well as downtown style cognoscenti. The artist Laurie Simmons still has her silk camouflage suit overlaid with fishnet. “My first-ever piece of couture!” she declares.
“Iria came to the opening of Da House of Sabbah,” the designer says. “I felt blessed! She was very modern, even at her age—68—and was not only a friend but a muse who wore many outfits of mine.” When he asked her to return to the catwalk for a Fashion Week show of young designers, she did not hesitate to don the dramatic black satin and silk spandex ensemble he’d made for her: voluminous harem pants, a boatneck blouse, a signature do-rag cap—and, of course, spike-heeled black boots. “It was quite shocking to be back on the stage after all these years,” she remarked in a journal recovered by Falk. “But my love to be the center of attention on the stage has not disappeared.”
Sihvonen says that Leino hoped Sabbah would revive her modeling career and felt abandoned when he returned to Paris in 2004. “An angel of integrity” is the way he remembers Leino. “A person gifted to life! I hope she gets the recognition she deserves.”
Leino with pastel works from her “Buddhist Rain” series, 1972.
Courtesy of the Archives of the Iria Leino Trust
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MINNEAPOLIS — It’s recognizable not just in Minneapolis, but across the country, and for good reason.
It’s the center piece of the Walker Art Center’s sculpture garden. And in many ways, it’s become a state symbol. Roughly 600,000 people a year visit the Spoon and Cherry.
“It’s bigger than the sculpture garden. It’s bigger than the Walker. It’s something that has become emblematic of the state of Minnesota in general,” said Siri Engberg, Senior Curator and Director of Visual Arts for Walker Art Center.
Last year the Spoonbridge and Cherry, as its technically called, celebrated 35 years on site. In the late 80’s artists Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen were tasked with creating something special for the sculpture garden.
“Claus Oldenberg is known for whimsical pop art, infused works that are very much everyday objects and changing them in surprising ways,” said Engberg.
In Chicago, Oldenberg had an idea to use a spoon as a bridge into Lake Michigan. It didn’t work out. But he found a place for the utensil in Minneapolis. His thought was the bowl of the spoon could be associated with the prow of a Viking ship, over the water.
“I think the cherry with the color, the red, that’s what pops it out,” said Vicki Friedman who is visiting with her husband Gary from St. Louis, Missouri.
Van Bruggen thought so too. She’s the one who convinced Oldenburg that the fruit would be “the cherry on top” for his masterpiece.
The cherry weighs about 1,200 pounds. And the spoon portion of the sculpture is nearly 3 tons. It’s made out of stainless steel and aluminum and it took two years to build on the east coast. Then it was shipped by flatbed trailer to Minneapolis. In May of 1988, two cranes finally put the spoon and cherry in its place.
“It’s pretty cool. It shoots water out of the stem,” said Ximena Fernandez, who was visiting the sculpture garden.
The sculpture is a giant fountain surrounded by a wet meadow. Oldenburg designed it that way as a shout-out to the Land of 10,000 Lakes. When the wind changes direction, you feel the mist coming from the stem.
The sculpture needs to be cleaned after a long winter and repainted every so often. But maintaining that shine is what’s helped it become the picture capitol of Minneapolis. People get creative with their photos and some will go to great heights to get a closer look.
“I love it. It’s so unique. I don’t think there’s anything like it in the world,” said the Friedmans.
“It’s neat. You can’t see this kind of merging between art and nature anywhere else,” said Engberg. “The scale of this piece is monumental. Against the Minneapolis skyline it’s kind of an incredible object.”
Again, the Spoonbridge and Cherry is surrounded by a wet meadow with native plants. It’s all designed to help recycle rainwater through the fountain.
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John Lauritsen
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The backlash against image and video synthesis is not solely focused on creative app developers. Hardware manufacturer Wacom and game publisher Wizards of the Coast have faced criticism and issued apologies after using AI-generated content in their marketing materials. Toys “R” Us also faced a negative reaction after debuting an AI-generated commercial. Companies are still grappling with balancing the potential benefits of generative AI with the ethical concerns it raises.
So far, Procreate’s anti-AI announcement has been met with a largely positive reaction in replies to its social media post. In a widely liked comment, artist Freya Holmér wrote on X, “This is very appreciated, thank you.”
Some of the more outspoken opponents of image synthesis also replied favorably to Procreate’s move. Karla Ortiz, who is a plaintiff in a lawsuit against AI image-generator companies, replied to Procreate’s video on X, “Whatever you need at any time, know I’m here!! Artists support each other, and also support those who allow us to continue doing what we do! So thank you for all you all do and so excited to see what the team does next!”
Artist R. J. Palmer, who stoked the first major wave of AI art backlash with a viral tweet in 2022, also replied to Cuda’s video statement, saying, “Now thats the way to send a message. Now if only you guys could get a full power competitor to [Photoshop] on desktop with plugin support. Until someone can build a real competitor to high level [Photoshop] use, I’m stuck with it.”
A few pro-AI users also replied to the X post, including AI-augmented artist Claire Silver, who uses generative AI as an accessibility tool. She wrote on X, “Most of my early work is made with a combination of AI and Procreate. 7 years ago, before text to image was really even a thing. I loved Procreate because it used tech to boost accessibility. Like AI, it augmented trad skill to allow more people to create. No rules, only tools.”
Since AI image synthesis continues to be a highly charged subject among some artists, reaffirming support for human-centric creativity could be an effective differentiated marketing move for Procreate, which currently plays underdog to creativity app giant Adobe. While some may prefer to use AI tools, in an (ideally healthy) app ecosystem with personal choice in illustration apps, people can follow their conscience.
Procreate’s anti-AI stance is slightly risky, because it might also polarize part of its user base—and if the company changes its mind about including generative AI in the future, it will have to walk back its pledge. But for now, Procreate is confident in its decision: “In this technological rush, this might make us an exception or seem at risk of being left behind,” Procreate wrote. “But we see this road less traveled as the more exciting and fruitful one for our community.”
This story originally appeared on Ars Technica.
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Benj Edwards, Ars Technica
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The football season is just around the corner, and this upcoming art exhibit at the Detroit Historical Museum promises to get Detroit Lions fans even more excited.
On Saturday, Aug. 24, the same day as the first Lions home game of the 2024-25 season, the museum will debut Detroit Lions: Gridiron Heroes, an exhibit celebrating the Lions’ championship seasons of the 1930s and 1950s, as well as memorable moments from recent years.
“We couldn’t be prouder than to have the Lions’ team history highlighted at the Detroit Historical Museum as we launch the 2024-2025 season,” Emily Griffin, Senior Vice President, Marketing & Brand for the Detroit Lions, said in a press release. “There’s something remarkable to uncover in every era and it was a lot of fun to pour through our archives looking for artifacts to share. We hope the fans will have just as much fun discovering them as we did.”
The museum’s new permanent exhibition space, the City of Champions Gallery, will be filled with Lions memorabilia, thanks to a partnership between the Detroit Historical Society, the Detroit Lions, and the Pro Football Hall of Fame.
Among the artifacts on display are trophies from the 1930s and 1950s, historic uniforms, a showcase of every Lions Hall of Fame player, and rare items from the Pro Football Hall of Fame and the Lions’ archives.
The exhibit also features the Lions’ 2024-2025 Game Day Uniforms.
In Legends Plaza, visitors can measure their hands against the handprints of Lions greats Barry Sanders and Lomas Brown. Plus, a special pop-up display highlights the 2024 NFL Draft held in Detroit, with artifacts including a large “DET” sign signed by thousands of locals and visitors from the record-breaking crowd.
This part of the exhibit was made possible through the Gilbert Family Foundation and Visit Detroit.
“The Draft was a moment of pride for the whole city of Detroit,” Chris Moyer, Senior Director, Communications and Public Affairs for Visit Detroit, said. “Visit Detroit was pleased to play a part in bringing it back to life in a small way at the Detroit Historical Museum.”
The public opening of the exhibit on Aug. 24 will feature family-friendly activities including NFL Draft coloring pages, a selection of unique vintage Detroit Lions merchandise, and more.
More information is available at detroithistorical.org.
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Layla McMurtrie
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Editor’s note: An untold number of unheralded artists live in Colorado, those creators who can’t (or don’t want to) get into galleries and rely on word of mouth, luck or social media to make a living. You’ve likely seen them on Instagram, at festivals or at small-town art fairs. This occasional series, Through the Lens, will introduce you to some of these artists.
The last time you saw a concert at Red Rocks Amphitheatre, there’s a good chance that live-music artist Keith “Scramble” Campbell was there, painting a 3-by-4-foot abstract acrylic artwork of the very band you came to see.
A fixture at the venue, Campbell has created more than 630 live paintings since his debut there in 2000, when he painted the band Widespread Panic. Immersed in the rhythm of the music, the artist moves with the beat, using his paintbrush like an instrument to capture the vibrant spirit and energy of the performance onto his canvas.
Inspired from a young age by New York graffiti artists Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat, as well as the Spanish surrealist Salvador Dalí, he found his calling in emulating American speed painter Denny Dent, known for creating large-scale, 8-foot canvases of musicians in just 10 minutes, often at the Cherry Creek Arts Festival. Discovering live music painting, he says, transformed his life and solidified his path as an artist.
“It seems easier to tell you which artists I haven’t painted versus the ones that I have,” he said recently. “I’ve painted over 1,000 live shows and 4,000 canvases in my career. It is a lifetime of going to shows all over the world. It isn’t just Red Rocks. If it’s live music, I will paint it.”
Q: Where does your name come from?
A: I was a speed roller skater in the 1970s and ’80s. I had a friend who called me Scramble because of the way I scrambled around the rink. Early on, I was heavily influenced by artists Andy Warhol, Bob Ross, LeRoy Neiman and Dalí. When I decided to make art my career, I felt like all of the influences from these artists were like an alphabet soup of names, a scramble of influences on me. I decided that Scramble would be a fitting name for me. (I also felt that it sounded a lot more creative than Keith and it rhymed with Campbell.)
Q: Could you give us a brief history of how you became an artist?
A: When I was in the seventh grade, I wanted to quit school because I knew I wanted to be an artist. My mother luckily convinced me it was wise to stay in school.
In the late ’80s, New York City was deep in the rave culture and the graffiti scene with rising artists like Haring, Warhol and Basquiat. They showed their work through nightclubs and public art. They were doing paintings on walls, in the subways and on the streets directly bringing art to the people. I was entranced by their work.
In 1991, I answered an ad looking for a visual artist to paint live during a music festival. The man who placed the ad was Perry Farrell, of Jane’s Addiction. The music festival was Lollapalooza.
When I got the job, it felt like the beginning of my career. I had had so many rejections over the years of trying to get into galleries and art shows. It was when I made the crossover from the art world into the music world that I really discovered my path as an artist.
Throughout the ’90s, I did music festivals such as the New Orleans Jazz Festival, Lollapalooza, the HOARD festival, Bonnaroo, Woodstock ’94, the Lilith Fair and even the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta. I have painted Widespread Panic 170 times.
Q: What kind of artist are you?
A: At heart, I am really a musician with a paintbrush. My instruments are my canvases, paintbrushes and paints.

I like to think of myself as a conduit of music, transcribing their energy and their music into a dance on canvas.
As a live artist, my paintings reflect the concert. I let the music and the environment dictate how I paint. If it’s windy and the music is hardcore, my paintings will reflect that. I’ll paint fast and furiously, the work looking abstract and impressionistic. I dance and move with the music as I paint. If there is a slower song in between, that is the time I take to fill in the details. The musicians, the weather, the people all play a role in the painting I create. I am trying to tell a story of that night. If it rains or is windy, I add that in my paintings. If there is a rainbow I will put that in there. I am capturing the entire night into one canvas.
Q: What kind of music do you like to paint to, and do you specifically stay within a specific genre?
A: I don’t stick to any one genre. I have painted over 1,000 different bands and 4,000 canvases that include jam bands like Widespread Panic and Leftover Salmon to up-and-coming Christian rock bands. Next month, I’ll be painting King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard, an Australian rock band. I’ve had the opportunity to paint jazz legends Fats Domino, B.B. King, Chuck Berry, Little Richard and Jerry Lee Lewis. I’ve painted Pete Seeger, Bob Dylan, Prince and other legends like Diana Ross, Melissa Etheridge, Carlos Santana, Blues Traveler, Lady Gaga with Tony Bennett, Johnny Winter and Tom Petty.
It seems easier to tell you which artists I haven’t painted versus the ones that I have.

Q: How did you end up becoming what seems like the artist-in-residence at Red Rocks?
A: After a show in Florida, Todd Nance, the drummer for Widespread Panic, traded a summer tour pass for a painting I had done of the band. I ended up at my first Red Rocks show where the band played in June 2000. It was love at first sight when I did that show.
Since then, I have done over 630 paintings at Red Rocks. I buy my own tickets and pay for every single concert that I go to. Red Rocks does not pay me to be there but they do allow me the space in which to paint.

Q: Do you remember the first piece of art you ever got paid for?
A: It was 1987 at one of my first group shows at a shopping mall where I sold a drawing of Joey Ramone. It was a studio piece before I was a live-music artist. I guess I have always been a music artist. even from the start.

Q: Where can we see your art?
A: On my website (scramblecampbell.com), but I invite people to come see me live at Row 23 at Red Rocks. I also have small paintings, postcards, magnets and other items for sale at the Red Rocks Trading Post.
Q: Do you have a favorite art piece?
A: I did a painting of Lou Reed in 1998 in Bethel, N.Y., on the original Woodstock grounds for the 29th anniversary of the original Woodstock. I got to talk to him and meet him afterwards and he signed the back of my painting. There are also paintings I’ve done of legendary musicians, like B.B. King and Fats Domino, who have since died. All of these paintings I love and will never sell.
Q: What memorable responses have you had to your work?
A: I showed David Crosby a painting I had just done of him and he said, “Not bad for speed painting.” Another time when I showed my painting to James Brown, he said, “Son, I’d like to thank you for coming out and painting my portrait.” He signed the entire back of the painting and said “I feel good. James Brown.”


Q: What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever been given?
A: In my mid-20s, I wrote a letter to well-known graffiti artist Keith Haring asking for advice. He was a big influence for me back then. He actually wrote me back and said: “I’m not good at giving advice. All I can say is do what you want to do and find a way to do it as much as you want to. There is no ’answer’ that is the same for everyone. You have to find your own direction.” I’ve followed that advice ever since.
Q: What advice would you offer to beginning artists?
A: Try to make your own way and make your own art. Don’t do art for somebody else, do it for yourself.
Q: Describe your dream project.
A: Next season is my 25th at Red Rocks. I’d really like to do a book that talks more about my experiences at the hundreds of concerts and of the thousands of artists I have painted. I feel like I already have the book illustrated with my paintings. It just hasn’t been written down yet. There are so many stories that go along with the artists that I have painted. I want to be able to tell those stories. It’s 25 years of jazz fest, 25 years of Red Rocks, 35 years of live painting. I’d like to tell those stories.
Originally Published:
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Helen H. Richardson
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Four insiders share their local perspectives on Puglia, on the “heel” of Italy’s “boot.” Athena McAlpine, “innkeeper” and owner of Il Convento di Santa Maria di Costantinopoli; Laura Sciacovelli, a photographer from the port city of Bari who spends much of her downtime in Salento, Puglia’s southernmost region; Jamie Sneider, the curator and director of Progetto, a contemporary art space and library in Lecce’s baroque historic center; and Massimo Torrigiani, an editor, publisher, writer and curator who grew up between Bari and Santa Maria di Leuca.
Puglia is surrounded by the Adriatic Sea to the east and the Ionian to the west, so it is no surprise that visitors Italian and foreign alike flock to the region’s emerald waters. A swimsuit, hat, sunglasses and comfortable shoes will cover your basic needs for relaxed days by the sea. McAlpine and Torrigiani suggest water shoes or jellies to reach rocky, remote swimming spots, while Torrigiani only half-jokingly recommends bringing earplugs “both in summer and winter…to avoid the music that haunts every bar, beach, restaurant, square, day and night…shattering every experience.”
For more a pleasant listening experience, Torrigiani also recommends bringing a suit to go to the theater. “The Petruzzelli, the Piccinni, and Kursaal Santalucia (don’t miss the Sala Cielo) in Bari, the Paisiello in Lecce, the Verdi in Brindisi, the Giuseppe Curci in Barletta, and the Umberto Giordano in Foggia—to name just a few—are quite beautiful and can give you a different perspective on the local folk.” Sciacovelli wouldn’t be left without her camera, and notes that while “Puglia is pretty easy going and casual, it can also be very smart and radical chic, so be prepared for both.” While generally warm year-round, Sciacovelli also recommends bringing a windbreaker or sweater for “maestrale” days, when a cold wind blows from the northwest.
Regardless of the time of year of your visit, McAlpine suggests leaving high heels back home, while Torrigiani notes that “Puglia is long, diverse, and accepting. You can more or less do, and be, what you like. That’s one of the reasons why people like it.”
From the Gargano peninsula in the north, to Santa Maria di Leuca at its southernmost point, Puglia is Italy’s longest region, comprising “six very different provinces, each with its own unique characteristics,” notes McAlpine. “The vibe around Bari and Polignano a Mare is very different to the Trulli area of Alberobello, the baroque of Lecce, and the wilder Basso Salento which is at the tip of the heel.” Rather than trying to cover the region’s entire offering in a single trip, select a few of the many sites to visit and choose accommodations within proximity accordingly. “When planning where you want to go and what you want to see, keep in mind driving distances and opening hours,” reminds McAlpine. Small baroque villages become ghost towns in the middle of the day, with nearly all businesses closing during the hours of peak temperatures. Stock up on essentials in the early morning or evening hours to be sure you aren’t caught out without water and food at midday.
When it comes to the locals, “Don’t expect to be [fully] understood if you don’t speak Italian, nor if you are whispering,” says Sciacovelli. Even for those who do speak Italian, Sciacovelli notes that there are hundreds of local dialects spoken throughout the region, including Griko, a protected Greek dialect dating from Byzantine times and still spoken in nine Salentino towns. Regardless of linguistic diversity, nonverbal communication is universal: “The Pugliese are a loud, animated people, but kind as well—don’t be shy!”
While Puglia’s seas may draw many from afar, the region’s culture is profoundly rooted to its agricultural land. Many of its most established and celebrated hotels are masserie, which are traditional fortified farmhouses surrounded by orchards and groves where they cultivate the produce and grains used in their local cuisine. Among McAlpine, Sciacovelli and Torrigiani’s recommendations are Masseria Torre Coccaro and Borgo San Marco, both near Fasano, as well as Masseria Il Frantoio and Masseria Mozzone, situated outside Ostuni. These family-run establishments predated the region’s recent spike in popularity and still “offer sincere and personal Pugliese hospitality,” according to McAlpine.
Masseria Moroseta’s clean lines and kitchen run by chef Giorgia Eugenia Goggi—celebrated by McAlpine and Sneider alike for her creative dishes—have established it as a compelling newcomer among Ostuni’s offerings. For those looking for beautiful architectural forms of a decidedly different approach, Pescetrullo can be found just down the road. A collaboration between the late design maverick Gaetano Pesce and the Venetian gallerist Caterina Tognon, the anthropomorphic living spaces often host art events and can be rented for overnight stays as well.
The Apulian peninsula was subject to frequent invasions from the sea for centuries, including the infamous sack of Otranto by the Ottomans in 1480. For those seeking escape from the legions of modern-day interlopers, Masseria Montelauro can be found a short drive from the Adriatic port city, where Elisabetta Massaro has been offering peace and relaxation to visitors for nearly twenty five years. And for those in search of total anonymous rest and reprieve, one can’t beat McAlpine’s very own “Convento” (in fact, a 500 year-old Franciscan monastery) whose imposing meter-thick walls beat back the harsh sun and prying eyes. The internal world McAlpine has built within the cloister is simultaneously so deeply calming and transportive—filled with art objects from the Indian subcontinent to West Africa, Central America to the Antipodes—that many guests see no reason to venture beyond its bounds at all.
While long regarded as a source of threat, today Puglia’s seas dazzle. For those wanting to wake up to Adriatic views, Sciacovelli recommends La Peschiera, just south of Monopoli, or Hotel Piccolo Mondo, perched on the cliffs just above Castro’s famous sea caves and emerald waters. While venturing even further south, Torrigiani suggests a stay at Palazzo Daniele, noting that “before it became the beautiful, elegant hotel it is now… it was the epicenter of Capo d’Arte, a nonprofit art organization producing exhibitions and hosting artist residencies.” It was out of his work as artistic director of Capo d’Arte from 2013 to 2018, that Torrigiani was able to edit Salento Moderno: An Inventory of Private Houses in Southern Puglia, “a book I had in mind since I was a teenager and roamed those villages and towns.”
When back home in Bari (and too many family are staying at his mother’s place) Torrigiani stays at Imago Plus, “a pleasant, friendly small hotel, cultural center, and artist residency. It has a botanical garden with native plants on the roof and a bar with a selection of local natural wines on the ground floor.” Nearby is also LoStabile, a community coworking space that also has rooms to rent, which he recommends.
In order to avoid parking headaches and scorching heat during the high season, follow McAlpine’s lead and head to the sea for a swim first thing in the morning. “I love an early swim at Tricase Porto followed by coffee at the local bar Mename, or Castro Marina followed by a cappuccino at one of the two bars in the port.”
Sciacovelli’s hometown favorite is the café Sotto il Mare, where you can enjoy a coffee and pastry looking out over Bari’s port, while Torrigiani opts for Caffè Nero (not to be confused with the British chain) “with its display of books with portraits of Baudelaire, Rimaud, Woolf, records by Joy Division and Bowie, and the always good, unintrusive selection of alternative rock and electronica.” For a true Barese breakfast, head to the Nderr’a la lanze fish market for local beers and a plentiful raw bar.
While he admittedly doesn’t go to many restaurants, Torrigiani makes exceptions for Vettor, “an elegant, contemporary restaurant, with a program of art and design exhibitions, owned by curator Michele Spinelli,” as well as La Battigia, Il Sale, and Ciccil U’ Gnore, when he wants to show guests the best fish that Bari has to offer.
Sciacovelli remembers when Ristorante Albachiara in Savelletri was just “a shack on the seaside rocks with few tables and plastic chairs.” While the establishment has become more polished over the years, it retains its charms and still serves up delicious grilled octopus and cozze in pinzimonio—marinated mussels.
After more than two decades of living in Salento, McAlpine relies on places “that have been around forever” and recommends local, family-run restaurants “that have retained their character, rusticity and quality of their simple, traditional dishes” even as their clientele has grown increasingly international. She prefers Trattoria Iolanda in Lucugnano in the off season, “where they prepare very good fresh pasta dishes, orecchiette con cime di rape and sagne with genuine tomato sauce and polpette;” Le Zie in Lecce, where she orders ceci e tria, “a simple dish of fresh pasta and chickpeas;” and Trattoria Vardaceli in Castiglione, where they “offer a lovely lemon marmalade with their fresh ricotta cheese.” When she’s feeling something more stylish, McAlpine heads to Taverna del Porto for delicious seafood situated along Tricase Porto’s breakwater (also a favorite of W’s editor in chief).
A producer of small batch olive oil herself, Sneider has fully embraced the agricultural aspect of Puglia’s nature — “There are very few times in which I am driving that I am not behind a tractor.” she says — and strongly encourages visitors to break free of touristic tropes and engage the region’s history, present, and future through the prism of biodynamic farming. “As a gallery, I collaborate with a lot of artisans in iron, wood, limestone, ceramics, all of which are natural resources here, but I have a reverence for people who are milling ancient grains, caring for the seed bank, delivering organic vegetables via WhatsApp groups, and forming cooperatives. I think this is sort of the heart of the region,” she says. She recommends Vite Colta outside of Ugento not only for their local wines and olive oil, but also the trattoria’s kilometro zero (Italian for local, farm to table) offerings. Sneider also loves visiting the sagre, local festivals devoted to specific food groups (wine, figs, cherries, etc.) that often take place throughout the summer months.
Casa delle agriculture Tullia e Gino is an agricultural cooperative with a weekly organic market in Castilgione d’Otranto where farmers “sell legumes, grains, vegetables and bread from a sustainable baker,” says Sneider. Located at the intersection of social and ecological responsibility and rehabilitation — and just west of Brindisi — Xfarm is another farming cooperative that has transformed a 50 hectare plot confiscated from organized crime into a productive project, regenerating the soil and ecosystem to produce olive oil and their own variety of lambrusco: Brushko. Continue your exploration of local wine production at Loco in Cisternino, Sneider’s favorite natural vintner, happily located within the “stunning” Valle d’Itria region. Sweet tooths shouldn’t miss Maglio’s confections in the center of Maglie. “They have been making confectionery since the 19th century,” notes McAlpine, “and every winter I stock up on their hot chocolate.”
Known for its small but important textile manufacturing industry, a trip to Salento is incomplete without collecting some new wares to bring back home. Tessitura Calabrese in Tiggiano is a family-run business producing linens and towels. “You can get lost for hours choosing the quality and weight of your linen, the trims, the colors, the finishes and the style of your monogram,” warns McAlpine.
La Tessitura di Antonia Calabrese
Courtesy La Tessitura Calabrese
Le Costantine in Casamassella is favored by Sciacovelli for its luxurious, hand-loomed scarves and towels. TulsiShop, a purveyor of clothing and textiles sourced in India, has several shops throughout the region and is a great resource for beachy looks.
Itinerant markets are part of the fabric of small-town Apulian life. McAlpine enjoys visiting Tricase’s on Tuesday morning, while she and Sciacovelli both recommend Ostuni’s flea market every second Sunday of the month. Always ask your hosts or locals for the latest information as schedules do often change.
When home in Bari, Sciacovelli heads to Enrico Trizio for jewelry and GF Luxury Vintage for rare pieces to update her stylish closet, while Torrigiani relies on Urban and Pescivolanti for “great vintage.” If in search of classic modern design and art pieces, Torrigiani recommends Misia, while the Puglia Design Store showcases work by the region’s contemporary designers.
For contemporary art and music, Torrigiani frequently visits Spazio Murat in Bari, where he also collaborates on projects, as well as the galleries Microba and Voga. For appreciating more classical pieces, he heads to Bari’s archeological museum, the Museo Archeologica di Santa Scolastica, as well as the recently refurbished Pinacoteca Corrado Giaquinto, with its displays of Apulian art spanning from the 11th to the 19th centuries.
“The National Archeological Museum of Taranto, also known as MArTA, has an exceptional collection of truly ancient objects. It’s a must for people interested in history, ceramics and jewelry,” says McAlpine. “The bronze and gold nutcracker made in the form of a woman’s forearms and pressed hands, and a life sized pomegranate carved out of crystal and with a thick gold stem are my favorite pieces.” While in Taranto, don’t miss the Cathedral Gran Madre di Dio designed by Gio Ponti, another of McAlpine’s picks.
For other astounding churches of a previous era, McAlpine “recommends a visit to Santa Caterina in Galatina and Santo Stefano in Soleto for their 15th century frescoes, and of course the medieval Cathedral of Otranto for its mosaic floor depicting the Tree of Life.”
Sciacovelli enjoys visiting Fondazione Pino Pascali in Polignano a Mare, a modern and contemporary art museum anchored by its collection of Pino Pascali, the late Barese artist who recently enjoyed a retrospective at the Fondazione Prada in Milan.
Museum of Contemporary Art Pino Pascali
Courtesy Museum of Contemporary Art Pino Pascali
Sneider, who left New York for Puglia in 2018, has brought a strong program of contemporary voices to Lecce’s baroque center with Progetto. This summer she is showing works by the American artist SoiL Thornton, but also recommends following Salgemma who have created a useful map to discover other contemporary art projects and spaces throughout the region. Among those, Torrigiani suggests checking out Kora – Contemporary Arts Center in Castrignano de’ Greci.
The region’s art scene has become quite dynamic with project spaces popping up in recent years including Casa Flash Art, which recently inaugurated a project with the American artist Eric Mack who intervened in the art publisher’s Ostuni outpost with his now-signature draping of collaged textile.
“Although I would not dream of calling the Convento a spa, nor was it conceived as a wellness center, over the years I like to think the atmosphere we have created gives people a sense of well-being so they leave feeling refreshed and rested,” says McAlpine. “We have a long pool filled with fresh spring water — excellent for swimming laps — and can arrange private yoga lessons, massages and reflexology.” Sciacovelli recommends Yoga in Salento near Zollino or taking a refreshing walk along the coastal footpaths between Otranto and Santa Cesarea Terme. Torrigiani also likes to stroll along Bari’s lungomare from Piazza del Ferrarese to the Pane e Pomodoro beach.
When in search of a fresh drink, McAlpine heads to Farmacia Balboa for “a delicious, refreshing grapefruit sour on the picturesque Piazza Pisanelli in Tricase, also known as the ‘Salotto of the Salento.’” While the establishment’s ownership includes Helen Mirren, it is a decidedly local affair. “In the evening all the local families gather here. The grandparents sit on the benches under the lentisco trees; the parents chase after their children and toddlers; the teenagers meet up to hang out and look at their phones!” For a vibe more akin to her Greek roots, McAlpine enjoys sitting on the terrace of Caffe d’Oltremare, sipping ouzo while looking out over the small fishing boats bobbing in the harbor, with Corfu just beyond the horizon.
For a cold midday Peroni on Bari’s port, Torrigiani heads to El Chiringuito. For a glass of wine, he suggests EnoMezcla, with its sea views. And in the evening, “the area between L’Arcimboldo and Il Piccolo Bar, at the corner of Via Abbrescia and Via Cognetti is a synthesis of the city’s bar life. Well after midnight Il Piccolo becomes the crossroad of the city’s alternative, creative, queer youth.”
For electronic and house music, Sciacovelli recommends both Polifonic festival in the Valle d’Itria (featuring Italian favorite System Olympia this summer), and Panorama Festival Salento which takes place at various locales throughout the south this year, with headliners including Peggy Gou. For more alternative parties, Sneider suggests Masseria Wave and Queer Market Show, a Salentino cabaret.
While McAlpine admits that she does “not get out much to taste the local nightlife,” she does “enjoy a disco dance in the Convento courtyard under the light of a full moon!” Locals enjoy moonlit swims at small beaches and harbors during the summer months too, a trick to avoid the harsh sun and the throngs of other visitors.
McAlpine prefers the Spring, with its “wildflowers, seasonal food, lack of crowds, and kinder, milder temperatures, which are cool enough to walk or cycle around, yet warm enough to swim.” She also enjoys the Fall, for similar reasons.
Sciacovelli recommends the month of May for visiting. “In Bari there is the festival of San Nicola, both a religious and pagan event which lasts three days in the heart of the city, where one can discover churches, galleries, and events.”
While Torrigiani says “a good moment is November for BIG – Bari International Gender festival. It has a good program of performances, dance, cinema, and talks in many different spots of the city. It’s a way to see things, places, and engage with interesting people.”
“Bari is a modern city, with no aristocracy,” says Torrigiani. “It is popular, worldly, commercial, somehow intellectual and refined, but never abstract or nostalgic.”
“I think what is most important to understand about Puglia is that it is an agricultural region and farming is paramount here,” Sneider reminds. “Previously, a large portion of the economy in the Salento produced tobacco and olive oil, and now much of it has shifted to tourism.” For her, it’s important to consider a conscious approach to tourism “that respects the people, the land and the future here… [supporting] farmers, artists and young people who want to forge an economy so a future can be imagined.”
“Puglia is a region of sharp, sometimes harsh contrasts,” notes McAlpine, “so be prepared to take the rough with the smooth. If you can see past the uglier outskirts of some of the towns, you are rewarded with beautiful old city centers. At its heart it is an authentic part of the world with a rich and ancient history. It suits a seasoned traveler.”
“Puglia is so diverse,” says Sciacovelli. “It’s the perfect mix of southern Italian traditions with Greco-Turkish influence, [while still being] modern and competitive, dynamic and progressive. People had no idea twenty years ago that this remote southern Italian region could become so hip. I was born in Bari and have come back to Puglia every summer for all my life, so for me it’s always been amazing. Lately, more commercial places have changed it a bit, but you can still find incredible charm in the people, breathe fresh, clean air, and enjoy the culture of good, homemade food, made with the best produce, often in breathtaking settings.”
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NEW YORK — All forms of artistry are common means of expression in the queer community.
Marcos Chin, an illustrator in Brooklyn, creates striking pieces of art that blend his sexual and cultural identities. He says, “I became interested in being an artist at a very young age. Illustration, for me, is the art and business of communication. It allows me to draw and express myself in a way that feels really natural.”
Chin says his projects are very personal. “My work is informed by my experience. I’m Chinese. I came out when I was in my mid-20s. I was in deep denial, self-loathing, internalized homophobia. I wanted to incorporate coming out and the experiences of being a young gay person in my illustration work.”
Chin has also made art for high-profile companies like Target, Starbucks, Banana Republic and The New York Times. He says, “When I see my work in public, I’m as excited as when I was when I got one of my first projects as a young illustrator.”
The crossover between his work and identity makes Marcos feel free to express himself and proud of his queerness.
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CCG
Source link

[ad_1]
NEW YORK — All forms of artistry are common means of expression in the queer community.
Marcos Chin, an illustrator in Brooklyn, creates striking pieces of art that blend his sexual and cultural identities. He says, “I became interested in being an artist at a very young age. Illustration, for me, is the art and business of communication. It allows me to draw and express myself in a way that feels really natural.”
Chin says his projects are very personal. “My work is informed by my experience. I’m Chinese. I came out when I was in my mid-20s. I was in deep denial, self-loathing, internalized homophobia. I wanted to incorporate coming out and the experiences of being a young gay person in my illustration work.”
Chin has also made art for high-profile companies like Target, Starbucks, Banana Republic and The New York Times. He says, “When I see my work in public, I’m as excited as when I was when I got one of my first projects as a young illustrator.”
The crossover between his work and identity makes Marcos feel free to express himself and proud of his queerness.
[ad_2]
CCG
Source link