Fine art is created by human hands (07/18/07)

What makes an artist an artist?

Is it the formal training? Is it the intent to create something meaningful, something that will stand the test of time?

Is it a matter of perception? Or self-perception, how the person sees himself or herself?

Or is it, ultimately, best judged by the work itself? If the finished product of the creative process resonates with other individuals, strikes a chord with them in their souls, doesn't that mean that the person who created the work is an artist?

Those questions and dozens like them were running through my brain Saturday afternoon.

I was wandering through the gallery at Arts Place in Portland looking at an exhibition called "Creations from the Trees."

It was my third time through.

Last Monday, I took a sneak peek at the exhibit. And on Tuesday, Connie and I had attended the opening reception.

It was billed as the "artists' reception," but I'm guessing the people responsible for the work felt a little funny about that label.

You see, these folks - Mark Twigg, Jerry Bruns, Ray Felts, Bob Hart, Jerry Hook, and Teresa Kelly - don't tend to think of themselves as artists.

If they bother to think about what they do at all, they'd probably say they're just wood-turners or hobbyists or - at the most - craftsmen.

Art is one of those things, in our current culture, that seems to be set upon a pedestal, as if it's something for the elites.

And if you know Mark or Jerry or Ray or Bob or Jerry or Teresa, you know that one thing they are not about is elitism.

They are as common as sunshine. And, like sunshine, they're easily underrated and able to make some special things happen.

As far as I'm concerned, something special is happening at Arts Place right now. You'd be foolish to miss the opportunity to check it out. The exhibit continues through Aug. 17.

Connie and I probably began our infatuation with turned wood 15 years ago or more. But it may actually date back even further. On a family vacation in the 1960s, my father took a day-long craft course at a Canadian National Park. When the day was over, he brought back a turned-wood bowl, something he was immensely proud of.

Much more recently, we chanced upon the work of a guy named David Hamilton, who lives near Stratford, Ontario. We loved his stuff, which he was selling at an Art in the Park event we attended after a weekend of theater there.

I'm not sure when I became aware that folks were doing similar work locally, but I'm guessing it happened as a result of the Arts Place benefit auction in November. Mark had donated a piece, and perhaps Jerry had as well.

Before I knew it, I was doing a story on Mark's work and we had creations by both of them gracing our home.

The current exhibit, I was flattered to learn from Mark, was my fault.

I mentioned the work to Eric Rogers. He mentioned it to Tetia Lee on the Arts Place staff. And then it was only a matter of scheduling.

Check it out.

If you do, you'll get a reminder that art isn't something that's always printed in italics or capital letters. It's not something limited to elites. It's not even something limited to those who choose to label themselves artists. It's something that's evident in its creation by human hands.

And, in the end, it's not the formal training, it's not the self-perception, it's the work itself that defines art and defines the artist.

It's the work itself.

You'll see it, and you'll know.[[In-content Ad]]