Monday, July 28, 2014

Painting prolifically, and from his soul

Pembroke artist Paul Crimi sharing the art of expression

By Taryn Plumb |GLOBE CORRESPONDENT
JULY 27, 2014



DEBEE TLUMACKI FOR THE BOSTON GLOBE

Donning a paint-splotched smock, Paul Crimi raises a brush to a midnight black canvas, quickly covering it with white streaks that create faint silhouettes.
Soon, blotches of green and yellow form trees; blue fills out the sky and a flowing river below. He continues with dabs — both generous and gentle — of red, orange, black, purple, moving up and down and around the landscape.
Finally, in less than an hour, he has a mostly completed painting: An abstract rendering of the Indian Head River in Hanson, lush with reeds and fall foliage.
“All you have to do is paint,” he stresses to his audience at the end of his demonstration. “Don’t ask anybody permission, don’t ask anybody to criticize. Just do it. In the act of doing, you’ll get to know who you are and what you are.”
You might call him the local Bob Ross.
For decades, the prolific, energetic, 70-year-old Pembroke artist has hosted an area cable access show, “Expressions in Painting,” in which he introduces various concepts, techniques, and styles, and urges people to cultivate their inner artist. And while he’s become somewhat of a local celebrity over the years, he’s also now enjoying a bit of national fame: Recently, his shows have been sporadically picked up by stations in Philadelphia, California, Wisconsin, Illinois, Maine, New Hampshire — and even Alberta, Canada.
He actually talks to the viewer,” said Margaret Jones, president of the nonprofit Pembroke Community Media Center Inc., which produces the show. “A viewer can develop a personal relationship” with him.
And unlike the beloved, curly haired Ross — famous for his “happy little trees” as host of the PBS program “The Joy of Painting” — Crimi doesn’t as explicitly lay out what, where, and how much.
I’m not up here doing this: Step 1, Step 2,” Crimi said from his seat in a scuffed rocking chair in his studio on a recent sunny afternoon. “I’m more affirming than teaching.”
Sometimes, he said, he specifically refrains from identifying what colors he’s mixing or what brushes are layering those onto the canvas. “I want people to have their own identity,” he stressed.
Instead, in his roughly hour-long show, he’ll paint — anything from foggy days in the woods, to vases of flowers, to Nantucket in the wintertime — impart some instruction and commentary, and ruminate on his family, his background, or his passionate spirituality.
Life is a precious gift I love and hold dear,” he said in one recent show, “and my art is the best way to express my appreciation for the joy and happiness and wonderful blessings in my life.”
It’s an endearing approach for many.
He really brings his family, or whatever mood he’s feeling, or whatever’s going on with him, into the painting,” said Catherine Briggette, Pembroke Community Media’s executive director of marketing.
Ted Bennett, one of his volunteer videographers, agreed: “I love his philosophy,” he said.
Crimi averages about a show a month, or as Jones noted, “as the muses strike him.” They are filmed at his studio in Rockland and at local high schools, where students working on his crew earn community service credit hours.
Once edited, the shows are available on the Pembroke Community Media website as well as YouTube, and are also offered through public, educational, and government access television.
Expressions in Painting” has aired regularly in Pembroke, Bridgewater, Marshfield, Hanover, Halifax, Plympton, Middleborough, Brockton, Danvers, Beverly, and Cambridge, Jones said.
I felt that I had all this knowledge, and I should share it,” Crimi, a father of four who has been married 49 years, said of the show. “It’s more about getting people to have the courage to step out and do it.”
Anybody can be an artist, he emphasized; if you tell yourself you can’t — well, then, you won’t be able to.
Just put the paint on the canvas,” he instructs in one of his shows available on YouTube. “Let it speak to you in your own way.”
And if you’re just starting out? Begin with simple things like fruit or vases or trinkets, or your own personal favorite objects. Also, although classes can help, don’t get too close with instructors, he said, because “they’ll teach you how they paint.”
Ultimately, “don’t be too critical of yourself when you’re painting,” he urged. “Just keep painting.”
As is the case with many artists, he started young — he recalled his mother exclaiming one day: ‘‘Oh gosh, we gotta get Paul some paper!”
Later, he studied at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, where he further honed his drawing, painting, and printmaking skills.
But coming from a family of barbers (preceded by both his father and great-grandfather), he went into hairdressing as his full-time trade.
He did that successfully for 43 years, most recently running shops in Norwell and Plymouth, but he said that “the art’s always been the love and the passion.”
Before retiring at age 63, he said he would wake up most mornings at 3 a.m. to get studio time in every day before heading to his parlor to handle clients.
Likewise, he found ways to blend the two careers, using his parlors as galleries to show off and sometimes sell his art, and considering his customers his “living art.” In his studio, meanwhile, he has long used hairspray as a layering agent, and a professional blow-drier to expedite the painting process.
There’s no doubt that, in his decades as an artist, he’s been prolific.
He’s created hundreds of linoleum cuts, collage prints, watercolors, and acrylic paintings, done from photographs or “pulled from my imagination.”
He did one series of 137 on a particularly beckoning stand of birch trees; another series of 30 on the 23d Psalm; and more and more pieces continue to emerge from a 1997 trip to Italy, during which he says he snapped 2,500 photos (or roughly 100 rolls of film).
I do them from my soul,” said Crimi. “I call them my soul connection.”
That passion is evident with a visit to his studio in a former mill building in Rockland.
The walls are covered; tables and desks are overflowing. Look one way, and you see a series of seascapes — waves broiling over rocks, islands brooding just offshore, scavenging seagulls. Glance up and around to see decorated mirrors, crosses, dangling and standing sculptures — colorful, abstract, realistic.
Scan from there, and you take in stands upon stands of birches, water-lilies, lupines in the woods, Italian street-scenes, colorful collages, and welcoming wooden paths — paintings and drawings on simple canvases, some framed, others propped neatly against or on top of each other, even more stacked in drawers.
Vases sit crammed full of all sizes of brushes, tinged various hues from their recent forays with the canvas. An easel is dashed with splashes of every color imaginable — artistic battle wounds.
I’m my own greatest collector,” he said, looking around. He shrugged, “I’m still doing it, every day, seven days a week.”

View “Expressions in Painting with Paul Crimi” on www.pembrokecommunitymedia.com. Visit Crimi’s website at www.paulcrimifinearts.com.

Original story link. Photo slideshow by Debee Tlumacki. 

© 2014 BOSTON GLOBE MEDIA PARTNERS, LLC

Thursday, July 24, 2014

It's not just litter -- it's art, and an education tool

Newbury artist will build tower of trash to educate about litter

By Taryn Plumb | GLOBE CORRESPONDENT
JULY 24, 2014


MARK LORENZ FOR THE BOSTON GLOBE


CYNTHIA SCHARTMAN/ANDREW SIDFORD ARCHITECTS

Take a walk around your neighborhood, and you might be surprised by the number of discarded items strewn along the side of the road.
Carol Baum certainly was, so much so that a little more than two years ago, she began picking up litter one day a week on a 2-mile loop around her Newbury home and cataloging everything she found.
All kinds of bottles, cigarette butts, plastic bags, and takeout containers are among the more common items, but some of her other finds are baffling: the top of a toilet tank, containers of rat poison, carbon dioxide canisters for air rifles, a child’s bicycle, a frozen diaper, and hundreds upon hundreds of nails.
“It’s just distressing that people don’t take better care of the place they’re living,” said Baum, 71, a retired ESL teacher and lifelong painter.
But rather than remain a silent steward of the environment, she’s turning her weekly trash retrievals into a public awareness campaign.
In mid-June, she launched a Kickstarter campaign to fund a public art project, what she’s dubbed a “trash tower.” To be framed by cedar and transparent plastic, it will essentially be a giant receptacle that she plans to fill every week for a year with the detritus retrieved on her regular route.
The 12-foot-tall tower will be installed on the grassy area in front of Newbury Elementary School on Hanover Street, with a large signboard announcing various decomposition and recycling facts.
“I hope people will change their behavior, if they’re litterers,” said Baum, whose work has been shown at various local galleries. “It’s good to have the elementary school involved, because that’s when children learn those behaviors. And I hope the message from the Kickstarter campaign gets out to a broader audience.”
It already has. When she launched the campaign on June 17, she was asking for $3,000 to cover the cost of materials: four posts; four Lexan plastic panels; a cover, lock, and ladder for the tower; and plywood, posts, and paint for the signboard.
In just five days, the project was fully funded — and then some. She raised $4,724, with 154 backers from several states and as far away as Germany, Australia, New Zealand, and Portugal.
A lot of the donations have come from people I don’t know, which is surprising and wonderful,” Baum said.
One backer, Mark Gillan, called the tower idea a “wonderful concept” in a posting on the Kickstarter website and a “great way to give people perspective on this issue.”
Another, Alessandro Cordova, was even moved to do something similar.
I was so impressed ... because this is something I have been thinking about doing myself and didn’t find the courage to,” he said on the site. “You inspired me.”
Everything over the initial $3,000 donated will be used to dismantle the tower once it’s full, restore the lawn around it, and purchase educational books for the school, such as “Don’t Throw That Away,” “The Adventures of a Plastic Bottle,” and “Recycle! A Handbook for Kids.”
The goal is to have the tower — which will be built by students in the carpentry program at Whittier Vocational Technical Regional High School in Haverhill — up by the fall, said Baum, who also created a related curriculum that she plans to disseminate to elementary school students.
The other educational piece will be the signboard, which will display statistics on decomposition times. According to the National Park Service, it takes one to 12 years for a cigarette butt to break down; 50 to 100 years for an aluminum can; and an estimated 1 million years for a glass bottle.
As environmentally conscious as many people have become in recent years, litter does remain a prevalent problem, according to the nonprofit Keep America Beautiful.
While the actual amount of overall litter is down 61 percent since 1969, the amount of plastic litter has increased 165 percent over those 45 years, based on a recent study done by the organization. All told, there are an estimated 51.2 billion pieces of litter on roadways nationwide.
As Baum has found herself, the most predominant items are tobacco products, paper, and plastic, according to the organization.
In her weekly trips — she does the 2-mile route every Tuesday morning — Baum has picked up thousands of cans, bottles, and cigarette butts, not to mention the occasional odd item such as an intact glass motorcycle windshield, X-rated paraphernalia, and a plastic bag full of dog poop.
Until her retirement in 2011, she said, “I never had time to really do anything for the community.”
So one day in March 2012, she decided to pick up the trash she was noticing on the road where she had walked, jogged, and ridden her bicycle for years.
I thought, ‘Now I won’t have to do this again for three months,’ but it was back right away,” she said. “I just made the commitment to pick up litter once a week.”
And, she added, “There’s a lot more road that needs to be picked up.”

Original story link.

© 2014 BOSTON GLOBE MEDIA PARTNERS, LLC

Monday, July 14, 2014

Celebrating a Unique Hometown

Rockport has its first reunion

By Taryn Plumb|GLOBE CORRESPONDENT
JULY 13, 2014



Mark Lorenz for The Boston Globe

Growing up in Rockport in the 1970s and ’80s, Chase Squires remembers it being like summer camp.
Everyone his age seemed to know one another — his Rockport High School class was a mere 54 students . And there were the quarries and beaches and pier to explore, Twin Lights tonic to drink, and summer jobs in town for everyone; he recalled earning $30 a week, which made him “rich” at the time.
But after graduating in 1984, Squires, now 48, eventually drifted away for college and work — since the late 1980s, he’s only been back three times.
Yet hometowns often have a certain gravity — and his pulled him (and hundreds of others) back into its orbit with the first Rockport Reunion, held on July 5. Born of aFacebook group, the event was a celebration and gathering for anyone with a connection to the picturesque seaside community.
I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see this many friends,” said Squires, a communications and public relations manager at a company in Denver, who flew in to attend the event.
Nostalgia was high and memories flowed freely; old friendships rekindled and new ones forged. The reunion wasn’t about a certain class or club or team or clique — it welcomed all residents, part-time, full-time, natives, transplants, young, old, those who moved along and those who never left.
This is about a town celebrating connections,” said Jon Cavanaugh, one of the organizers, noting that, whether people were there for just a few months or their entire lives, “we’re all, always, Rockporters.”
Held at Evans Field baseball park, the daylong event included live music from more than a dozen local bands, games, food, and decades’ worth of memorabilia.
It all started when Cavanaugh created the Facebook group, “You know you grew up in Rockport when... ” last year. There were 259 members at first; within three weeks, that had nearly tripled. Now, there are 1,530 Rockporters, past and present.
Eventually, the group formed a 13-member steering committee, and raised $4,390 through an Indiegogo crowd-funding campaign, and hundreds more through the sale of tickets and T-shirts. The goal is to make the reunion an annual event, Cavanaugh saidas he stood in the crowd amassed on the field, wearing a plastic lei and a maroon T-shirt declaring, “I grew up in Rockport, MA, and I remember when... “
The culmination of 10 months of planning, the reunion drew as many as 2,000 people throughout the day, Cavanaugh estimated. Proceeds will fund next year’s event, as well as scholarships, he said.
Motioning around the field, the 46-year-old, who graduated from Rockport High in 1985, said, “I know almost everyone here.”
As if to emphasize the point, a woman who spotted him greeted him with a hug.
So what is it that makes Rockport so special?
Cavanaugh cited one example: Every holiday season, volunteers put together and deliver hundreds of gift baskets for the elderly and those who cannot get out and about. “I’ve been doing that every Christmas morning since I was 13,” he said, adding that he’s introducing the tradition to his kids.
Squires, meanwhile, recalled the annual Christmas pageant: “Half the town’s in it; half the town watches it.”
That’s the type of community we have,” said Cavanaugh, who now lives in adjacent Gloucester. “It’s unique. Everyone cares about each other.”
And how has it changed over the years?
Squires laughed and shrugged, “It’s smaller. The town is smaller every time I come back.”
Elsewhere on the field, groups sipped beer and Twin Lights tonic, reminiscing about the annual Fourth of July parade and bonfire, school sports championships, the Sandpiper Inn, Jimmy’s Sunrise Restaurant, the pier, the tourists, the local barber who was in business for more than 60 years. They waved and called out to each other, hugged and laughed.
That’s Tania — I know that face from Facebook!”
Hi Tim!”
Barbara, my God!”
Most wore bracelets denoting their graduation decade — stars for the ’80s, lightning bolts for the ’70s, gold VIP for those pre-1950.
Ninety-two-year-old Jean Cameron, a lifelong resident, sat in a folding chair with several other generations of her family, wearing her VIP bracelet.
I met one of my classmates,” she said. “I don’t know many that are still alive.”
Across the field, old yearbooks sat in boxes to be flipped through at leisure, and a table offered a pile of vintage photographs, as well as large fluorescent poster boards filled with thoughts such as “Rockport is where my heart and home is.”
Several tents held Girl Scout sashes filled with badges, sports jerseys, and trophies from across the years, and boards bearing black-and-white photos of sports teams, graduating classes, and local newspaper stories.
Janine Boucher and her daughter, Katharine, examined the latter, chuckling and commenting as they moved along.
I know all of them!” exclaimed Janine, whose husband, Mike, is running for state representative.
It’s great for bringing the town together,” she said, adding that most interactions are “in passing — Beep! Beep! Wave, wave.”
Seventeen-year-old Katharine just graduated from Rockport High. Although she’s headed off to college in the fall and would like to explore, she said she’ll be back to her hometown.
I like the small-town feel,” she said, “how everyone knows each other and supports each other.”

Original story link.

Photo slideshow  by Mark Lorenz.


© 2014 BOSTON GLOBE MEDIA PARTNERS, LLC

Friday, July 4, 2014

Exploiting the Expected

THROUGHOUTSIDEWAYS
Taryn Plumb

PORTLAND MUSEUM OF ART
7 CONGRESS STREET
PORTLAND, MAINE
THROUGH AUGUST 24



SULZER SETTING HER OWN PAPER TRAIL

When we see paper hanging on a wall in a gallery, we expect nothing less than perfect; stains, dimpling, buckling, rips or wrinkles all seem like faults.
But this is where Andrea Sulzer challenges the conventional; the Brunswick, Maine artist purposely manipulates and exploits paper to its very limits, transforming it from a flat, formless and blank canvas for other ideas and materials into its very own unexpected and complex 3-D sculpture.
Her most recent creations, inspired by both experimentation and improvisation, are on display in “throughoutsideways” at the Portland Museum of Art through August 24. The show is part of the museum’s ongoing “Circa” exhibitions, featuring the work of local living artists.
The solo exhibit showcases a range of pieces that defy the traditional rules of paper.


Read the entire article in our magazine pages here