At last night’s opening of Dick Termes’  ”Termespheres” there was a good crowd and lots of up-beat “wows”.  50 pieces, hung at eye level from small chains, most of which were motorized from the ceiling and slowly turning in space.  It was strange navigating through the room with your vision blocked by various spheres and being captivated by one or more at the same time.  They gave Dick the mike and he explained some of them which greatly added to their attraction.  He has always haunted me throughout my career making “atmospheres” , clay spheres and spheroids thrown on the wheel with the sky glazed on them. http://www.youtube.com/Pthalo2I would go to an event with my work and people would invariably ask me if I had seen his work.At last, now I can say that I have both seen the work and met the artist.  I suggest you do the same and go to the Dahl and be amazed.   Don Jones 

We must be born with it.  A gene, or some mental wiring that says that art is some pretty imitation of nature scenes, flower arrangements, quaint villages,  and/or portraits.  Overcoming this wiring is usually the job of education or having a son or daughter who wants to become an “artist”  I spent my first year here subbing in the Middle and High Schools in art classes.  I can say that the art teachers here in Rapid do a wonderful job in teaching basic skills and ways of looking at historical and contemporary art.  So the problem is not in education.  For a long time, part of the problem was not having a proper venue to showcase challenging artworks for the general public.  Now that we have the new and expanded Dahl Art Center the problem of exposure should be solved.  Now we have to get folks in the door and actually looking at stuff they are not used to looking at.   The light paintings of Stephen Knapp may be a middle ground of sorts for those who like beautiful things and aren’t bothered by abstract shapes.  The work of Ross Rudel is another matter and maybe some explanation or more time spent pondering is in order.   Both artists can be seen at the new Dahl and they are worth the trip. Come out of your “comfort zone” a little and see some work that will get you thinking about what is art and what is beautiful.  Don Jones 

By way if introduction, I am a somewhat retired art instructor from Wyoming and a still working painter of large, sort of abstract landscapes. I am on the Visual Arts Advisory Board at the Dahl (a great asset to the community) and teach part-time at BHSU.
Being new to both a medium (blogging) and a place I am sure opens me to making many spectacular mistakes. Hopefully they will be the kind of mistakes which create laughter and light.
I have noticed since I came here that what I would call “art criticism” is pretty
much absent from the scene. I don’t see reviews of art shows in the Journal, and have not
found columns or essays that could be called “critical” in any of the local/regional magazines. James Van Nuys does a fine job in his column of describing arts events and individual artists’ work, but his focus seems to be more on moving people to get out to see the work rather than critically examining what they do.
I have also found that when I make a critical comment about a work, even when asked
to do so by the artist, a general silence descends upon the room and people begin to move away from me. Don’t get me wrong. I am not talking about expressing personal opinions like, “this work sucks!” But about asking critique-type questions like, “Why are you are using colors that are all about the same value?” or, “How do you see your work in the context of contemporary landscape painting?”
My questions about this phenomenon are many; but we could start with: Is there an unspoken but commonly understood ban on public art criticism in the area? Do artists get together in secret and critique each other’s works—or does the ban extend into the private sphere as well?
In my previous world critique has been a necessary and constructive element–one which leads to greater understanding of what I am trying to do as a painter and to greater growth as an artist. Have I just not gained access to where this kind of dialogue happens here? Does it happen?
Does Quinn Acridone know?
Lynn Thorpe