Summer 2024
TREE, 2024
Acrylic on Canvas
60 x 48 in
June 21st, 2024
This past spring has been an especially enjoyable time for me.
In April I was included in the inaugural show at Galerie Brigitte Mulholland in Paris and had the distinct pleasure of attending the Opening and the private celebration the previous evening. I was honored to be included among a group of very well established and respected contemporary artists, and grateful that the very first show that Brigitte, who is very well known in her field and considered a rapidly rising star, included me as she introduced herself in Paris with her new galley. That may have been the highlight of our trip but spending five beautiful days in Paris and exploring the city by foot allowed my wife and I to be “flaneurs” once again, a role we cherish. Oh, I also had the best boeuf bourguignon I’ve ever tasted at a small bistro in the Marais. I’m not a “foodie” but this was a revelatory meal.
During May and early June I was able to visit the studios of a number of New York artists and have happily cemented some friendships with people whose work I admire and found to be “simpatico”. And a stream of people have come by my apartment/viewing rooms in the city (created in part to make it easier for people based in NYC to get a sampling of my work since some of them consider Scarsdale, where my studio is located 35 minutes out of the city, halfway to the Arctic Circle) and certainly seemed to really like what they saw. I’ve also been privileged this spring to see some of the pieces I’ve sold mounted beautifully on the walls of collectors’ homes and found that with appropriate lighting these paintings “sing”.
Of course there are the distinct pleasures of the changing of the seasons in New York: That early bloom when trees and plants flower but all of the green is still fresh and dewy before the summer heat causes some degree of desiccation; the fullness of streams as the winter snow melts into them; the singsong of birds returning to their homes in time for the mating season; the getting golf clubs and tennis rackets out of storage and into use; the beginning of the baseball season (with the Yankees starting out on fire) and the close of the basketball and hockey seasons with both the Knicks and the Rangers having had terrific years even if they fell short of championships.
I would have liked to attend the Venice Biennale but was too busy working on some paintings that I didn’t feel I could leave without losing momentum that was hard won. I did manage to get to the Frieze fair in New York and found it surprisingly enjoyable (I do not usually love big art fairs). By my lights, there was one serious failing in the art world this spring. A wonderful painting from Richard Diebenkorn’s Ocean Park Series failed to sell at the Sotheby’s auctions for its estimated price range of $18-24 million. Of course, when we are talking about such stratospheric numbers we are speaking of things that have little to do with the art itself, and like all artists I am disturbed by the commodification of what we create, but Diebenkorn is not only one of my favorite artists but a major influence on me and I was sorry to see that the painting had to be withdrawn from the sale. Apparently, it had been put back on the market “too soon” after having been purchased only a couple of years ago at over $20 million. How people arrive at that conclusion is beyond me. All I know is that the painting in question is magnificent.
I am scheduled to participate in a group show in NYC in September/October and look forward to that. I have been pretty “productive” so far in 2024 and have been exploring some different paths in my painting even while continuing to come back to create additional pieces that reflect some of my past work. Unlike the majority of artists who will treat a particular concept as something to be explored at length until they feel that have worked through the issues that concept presents, I find that I prefer to jump around a bit and create new pathways on a regular basis, always knowing that I will be returning to those earlier paths at some point. A small number of the new pieces have been posted on the website but we’re keeping their number down because we really want people to see more of my work “live” and less on a computer screen (or even a phone, which horrifies me). I hope to have a solo show in the next twelve months that will allow me to show the multiple paths I’ve gone down and allow viewers to get a sense of the whole.
I’ve said before that I think music speaks directly to the soul and that at its best it should be listened to without any distractions and with an open heart. Since my previous letter I have had the good fortune to hear a fabulous version of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony by the New York Philharmonic at Geffen Hall in Lincoln Center. This piece is, of course, considered an old “War Horse” and of less interest to the cognoscenti than was once the case, but I firmly believe they are wrong. It deserves everyone’s reconsideration because there are so many passages of surpassing beauty in it, and threads that can be traced to the incredible Sixth through Ninth Symphonies that were to follow as Beethoven climbed the highest heights of the Romantic Movement that remains, in my opinion, the greatest musical era of all. Having said that, I wanted to end this letter by recommending a careful listening to two pieces of music that I adore and that may be less familiar to some: Gustave Mahler’s Ninth Symphony and Dave Brubeck’s Time Out. If you’ve not heard these pieces just get yourself in a quiet place and focus on the music. You will thank me.
As the days now start to get a bit shorter and the shadows lengthen, enjoy your summer, especially those late afternoons when the humidity eases and the air gets sweet and the sky soft. Henry James once wrote “Summer afternoon- summer afternoon, to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.” James was on to something.
As always, if you enjoy my letters, or my art, and hopefully both, please keep in touch.
Regards,
Abbott Stillman