Opening today at Trailside Gallery in Jackson, Wyoming is my first ever Trailside Gallery showcase. The paintings included in this latest collection are the culmination of 10 months of work and countless hours spent in the field. If you're in the area, please stop in to see the show. The paintings will be hanging from September 3rd to September 15th, 2013. Each painting is being sold by draw. The drawing will take place on September 14th during the artist's reception from 4pm to 7pm at the gallery. Click the links below to view the work and to get size and pricing information.
http://www.dustinvanwechel.com/2013-trailside-gallery-solo-show/
http://www.trailsidegalleries.com/shows/newshowart.cfm?showid=352
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Saying Goodbye to Our Greatest Friend
I haven't written a post here in a very long time. Life often moves in such a way that some things (such as this blog) are neglected in the business of the day. I'm sorry that this, my first post in over a year, is one of such sadness.
I'm writing not because I think anyone who reads my blog would care to know the personal goings-on of my life, but rather I'm writing it as a kind of therapy to deal with my great sense of loss. Those of you who've experienced the joy of caring for a beloved family dog will understand.
On June 22nd, 2002 we met Brutus, our Boston Terrier, for the first time. He was 10 weeks old.
Just a little over 11 years later on July 11th, 2013, we had to say goodbye to him.
The story of Brutus' life is a simple but great one. He traveled the country with my wife and I to art shows and reference-gathering trips. He spent nearly all of his time with at least one of us (his greatest pleasure in life was simply to be at our sides). He adored people, was gentle, playful, curious, brave, and above all, loving. He filled us with such joy that my wife and I would muse about how it was possible a dog could have such a grip on our hearts. Yvonne and I don't have children so Brutus, in a way, filled that void for us — as I'm sure many dog owners without kids understand they seem to do. It was just the three of us and we deeply enjoyed every minute we spent together.
He was my studio buddy. I would sometimes turn off the music, or whatever background sounds I had playing while I painted, just to listen to him snore as he slept near my feet. He seemed to know when I was spending too much time at the easel as well. Just when my back had had enough of standing in front of a large canvas, he would come bounding in with a toy — begging me to take a break and play with him. Now, his absence is all I feel while I'm in the studio. The space is too large and too empty without him.
Every corner of our lives are haunted by his memory. I can't go into a room without seeing him there. I can't walk to the mailbox without missing him, or take a car ride without thinking how he'll never ride with me again. And maybe worst of all, the freshest memories of our beloved Brutus are ones of his pain and suffering from the back injury that forced us to say goodbye—the injury that broke apart our family and took our Brutus from us. Though I do take some comfort in knowing that in his worst hours, my wife and I never left his side. We never stopped doing everything we could to care for him. And at his end, we did not abandon him to his fate alone. We didn't leave his side when it was time because we couldn't bear to watch the light leave his eyes. We stayed with him, held him and did not allow our sweet Brutus to pass alone and afraid.
I know that time will eventually take the edge off our pain and grief. I know that the memories of his suffering will be drowned by 11 years of memories of him running, playing or simply snuggling with us in front of the TV. But in this moment, the pain of his absence is so heavy I feel as though I can't breathe. 11 years with him and suddenly he's gone. Just gone. What a heartbreaking realization.
Goodbye our sweet Brutus. We love you and we will miss you, always.
I'm writing not because I think anyone who reads my blog would care to know the personal goings-on of my life, but rather I'm writing it as a kind of therapy to deal with my great sense of loss. Those of you who've experienced the joy of caring for a beloved family dog will understand.
On June 22nd, 2002 we met Brutus, our Boston Terrier, for the first time. He was 10 weeks old.
 |
| Brutus the day we met on June 22nd, 2002. |
The story of Brutus' life is a simple but great one. He traveled the country with my wife and I to art shows and reference-gathering trips. He spent nearly all of his time with at least one of us (his greatest pleasure in life was simply to be at our sides). He adored people, was gentle, playful, curious, brave, and above all, loving. He filled us with such joy that my wife and I would muse about how it was possible a dog could have such a grip on our hearts. Yvonne and I don't have children so Brutus, in a way, filled that void for us — as I'm sure many dog owners without kids understand they seem to do. It was just the three of us and we deeply enjoyed every minute we spent together.
He was my studio buddy. I would sometimes turn off the music, or whatever background sounds I had playing while I painted, just to listen to him snore as he slept near my feet. He seemed to know when I was spending too much time at the easel as well. Just when my back had had enough of standing in front of a large canvas, he would come bounding in with a toy — begging me to take a break and play with him. Now, his absence is all I feel while I'm in the studio. The space is too large and too empty without him.
Every corner of our lives are haunted by his memory. I can't go into a room without seeing him there. I can't walk to the mailbox without missing him, or take a car ride without thinking how he'll never ride with me again. And maybe worst of all, the freshest memories of our beloved Brutus are ones of his pain and suffering from the back injury that forced us to say goodbye—the injury that broke apart our family and took our Brutus from us. Though I do take some comfort in knowing that in his worst hours, my wife and I never left his side. We never stopped doing everything we could to care for him. And at his end, we did not abandon him to his fate alone. We didn't leave his side when it was time because we couldn't bear to watch the light leave his eyes. We stayed with him, held him and did not allow our sweet Brutus to pass alone and afraid.
I know that time will eventually take the edge off our pain and grief. I know that the memories of his suffering will be drowned by 11 years of memories of him running, playing or simply snuggling with us in front of the TV. But in this moment, the pain of his absence is so heavy I feel as though I can't breathe. 11 years with him and suddenly he's gone. Just gone. What a heartbreaking realization.
Goodbye our sweet Brutus. We love you and we will miss you, always.
 |
| Brutus enjoying one of his favorite activities; sunning himself in the grass. |
Friday, April 27, 2012
Artists For The New Century
I'm honored to be a part of an upcoming exhibition that showcases work from some of the best young artists in the country. 'Artists For The New Century' will be held at the Bennington Center for the Arts in Bennington, Vermont, June 9 - July 14, 2012. The artists participating in the show were nominated by the editors of Southwest Art, American Art Collector and Fine Art Connoisseur magazines and will be entering one piece of work that best represents their work. All of the peices in the exhibition are for sale.
Here's my painting...it's a 30"x24" oil on linen titled "A Passing Fancy".
Here's my painting...it's a 30"x24" oil on linen titled "A Passing Fancy".
Friday, May 27, 2011
Announcements And Upcoming Shows
I’ve had a string of good news as of late...
First, I’ve been selected the Southeastern Wildlife Expo’s featured painter for next year — their 30th anniversary. I’ve been participating in SEWE for 7 years now. Given my relatively short time in being a part of the show makes this honor all the more special.
Second, I was invited to participate in Trailside Gallery’s first annual summer miniatures show and sale; Masters in Miniature, to be held at their Jackson, Wyoming location. Trailside is one of the elite western art galleries in the U.S. and represents a number of artists who’s work I greatly admire — several of whom will also be in the miniatures show. To have been invited to be a part of this event is truly an honor.
And finally, I have again been asked to be a part of the National Museum of Wildlife Art’s Western Visions Show and Sale. This will be my 6th year and to say I'm excited and moved by the museum’s continued interest in my work would be a gross understatement.
First, I’ve been selected the Southeastern Wildlife Expo’s featured painter for next year — their 30th anniversary. I’ve been participating in SEWE for 7 years now. Given my relatively short time in being a part of the show makes this honor all the more special.
Second, I was invited to participate in Trailside Gallery’s first annual summer miniatures show and sale; Masters in Miniature, to be held at their Jackson, Wyoming location. Trailside is one of the elite western art galleries in the U.S. and represents a number of artists who’s work I greatly admire — several of whom will also be in the miniatures show. To have been invited to be a part of this event is truly an honor.
 |
| "Grandstanding", Oil on linen, 11"x14" |
 |
| "Meadow Mashers" Oil on linen, 10"x12" |
 |
| "A Rare Find", Oil on linen, 9"x12" |
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
A Word (or several) About Symbolisim In Art
Symbolism in art. It's both one of art's greatest aspects, and one of its greatest drawbacks. Taken to extremes, the audience is duped into engaging in a pseudo-intellectual goose chase, attempting to decipher the symbolism of a splash of wasted red paint on a white canvas. And at the other end, an over-rendered piece of wall decoration with no intellectual value (or artistic value, for that matter).
Truly great art functions on many different levels, from the initial impact of its beauty, to eliciting an emotional connection from the viewer, to a deeper narrative of symbolism that communicates the artist's ideas, thoughts, feelings or beliefs. Art that excels in all of these areas is not just the product of a skilled artist, but is also the culmination of an artist's life-experiences.
Infusing a work of art with symbolism gives the viewer another opportunity for discovery. An artist who's work and ethic I greatly admire wrote that it's the artist's job to give the viewer direction and it's the viewer's responsibility to make the discoveries — I completely agree. Symbolism in painting enriches those discovers by giving the viewer a bit more about the artist. And if it's executed well, and is based in life-experience, symbolism in one's art can play a vital roll in helping to better the quality of one's work.
As I grow as an artist and a person, I hope to make symbolism a more important part of my paintings. I hope it enriches the experience of viewing my work and gives the art lover an opportunity to better understand me as an artist.
Truly great art functions on many different levels, from the initial impact of its beauty, to eliciting an emotional connection from the viewer, to a deeper narrative of symbolism that communicates the artist's ideas, thoughts, feelings or beliefs. Art that excels in all of these areas is not just the product of a skilled artist, but is also the culmination of an artist's life-experiences.
Infusing a work of art with symbolism gives the viewer another opportunity for discovery. An artist who's work and ethic I greatly admire wrote that it's the artist's job to give the viewer direction and it's the viewer's responsibility to make the discoveries — I completely agree. Symbolism in painting enriches those discovers by giving the viewer a bit more about the artist. And if it's executed well, and is based in life-experience, symbolism in one's art can play a vital roll in helping to better the quality of one's work.
As I grow as an artist and a person, I hope to make symbolism a more important part of my paintings. I hope it enriches the experience of viewing my work and gives the art lover an opportunity to better understand me as an artist.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Transending Genre And The Subjective Nature Of Art
This past weekend, I made my second-annual journey to bask in the wondrous glow that is the Masters of the American West show at the Autry Center in Los Angeles, CA. My wife, close friend and artist, Ray Brown, and I spent the better part of Saturday ogling the extraordinary works on display and had several jubilant conversations about the art.
One of those conversations spawned two important (but pretty obvious) realizations that I'd like to communicate here; first, great paintings transcend their subject matter. And second, at the level of work on display at the Masters show, personal preference of one painting (or artist) over another is subjective and has little to do with the quality of the artist's technique or skill.
The first realization came from our collective decision to partake in a little fantasy; What piece of art in the show would each of us take home over all the others if we had the means. My wife made an interesting point, her choice was based not necessarily on what she felt was the most aesthetically pleasing piece, or a painting or sculpture that would best suite the decor of our home, but rather, which work of art she connected with most on an emotional level.
I'm not all that into 'cowboy' or 'Indian' paintings as a genre of art. The subject matter isn't particularly interesting to me. But the painting I chose was a painting of three native Americans on horseback titled, Lost Tracks by Z.S. Liang. For me, this painting was beyond its subject. It transcended subject matter as the greatest of paintings do. I connected with it on an emotional level. It was exquisite and appealed to everything I personally find beautiful in representational painting. Much of Liang's paintings are like this for me, and my wife as well. One of his paintings at the show even made Yvonne a little teary-eyed (and no, she's not allergic to great paintings as she tried to make us to believe).
The artist's ability to create a work that can so deeply affect the viewer is, I think, what we are all striving for as artists. My goal as an artist is not to produce great wildlife or landscape paintings, but instead, is to produce great art. I hope that one day I will be capable of creating a painting that transcends its subject as my wife and I both felt Z.S. Liang's had done.
The second conversation involved Ray and I. We began contemplating who's work might one day take the position of prominence in the show (as you enter, a large Howard Terpning painting greets you) after Howard has passed on — sort of morbid conversation but it wasn't as bad as it sounds here. I think we both agreed that it would likely be one of the great Chinese painters, in particular, Mian Situ. Although, I personally think Morgan Weistling will be in the running.
I mentioned that I actually prefer Z.S. Liang's paintings over Howard's. Ray, as a generalization, preferred Howard's. We had our differing reasons, but in the end, neither one of us could convince the other to switch our preference, because from a purely technical standpoint, the two artists are masters. You can't argue that one is technically better than the other because they're beyond that. It could only come down to personal preference of one artist's style over the other and that is a truly great example of the subjective nature of art — especially when considering Ray and I have very similar taste in art.
There are a number of artists in the Master Show that I feel belong on the 'wall of prominence'. Ray's and my opinion certainly doesn't matter. In the end, the choice will be somewhat subjective because at this level of painting, personal opinion is all there is left to argue.
One of those conversations spawned two important (but pretty obvious) realizations that I'd like to communicate here; first, great paintings transcend their subject matter. And second, at the level of work on display at the Masters show, personal preference of one painting (or artist) over another is subjective and has little to do with the quality of the artist's technique or skill.
The first realization came from our collective decision to partake in a little fantasy; What piece of art in the show would each of us take home over all the others if we had the means. My wife made an interesting point, her choice was based not necessarily on what she felt was the most aesthetically pleasing piece, or a painting or sculpture that would best suite the decor of our home, but rather, which work of art she connected with most on an emotional level.
I'm not all that into 'cowboy' or 'Indian' paintings as a genre of art. The subject matter isn't particularly interesting to me. But the painting I chose was a painting of three native Americans on horseback titled, Lost Tracks by Z.S. Liang. For me, this painting was beyond its subject. It transcended subject matter as the greatest of paintings do. I connected with it on an emotional level. It was exquisite and appealed to everything I personally find beautiful in representational painting. Much of Liang's paintings are like this for me, and my wife as well. One of his paintings at the show even made Yvonne a little teary-eyed (and no, she's not allergic to great paintings as she tried to make us to believe).
The artist's ability to create a work that can so deeply affect the viewer is, I think, what we are all striving for as artists. My goal as an artist is not to produce great wildlife or landscape paintings, but instead, is to produce great art. I hope that one day I will be capable of creating a painting that transcends its subject as my wife and I both felt Z.S. Liang's had done.
The second conversation involved Ray and I. We began contemplating who's work might one day take the position of prominence in the show (as you enter, a large Howard Terpning painting greets you) after Howard has passed on — sort of morbid conversation but it wasn't as bad as it sounds here. I think we both agreed that it would likely be one of the great Chinese painters, in particular, Mian Situ. Although, I personally think Morgan Weistling will be in the running.
I mentioned that I actually prefer Z.S. Liang's paintings over Howard's. Ray, as a generalization, preferred Howard's. We had our differing reasons, but in the end, neither one of us could convince the other to switch our preference, because from a purely technical standpoint, the two artists are masters. You can't argue that one is technically better than the other because they're beyond that. It could only come down to personal preference of one artist's style over the other and that is a truly great example of the subjective nature of art — especially when considering Ray and I have very similar taste in art.
There are a number of artists in the Master Show that I feel belong on the 'wall of prominence'. Ray's and my opinion certainly doesn't matter. In the end, the choice will be somewhat subjective because at this level of painting, personal opinion is all there is left to argue.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
To Trade Or Not To Trade? There Is No Question.
I'm an artist, but I'm as much an art lover as I am an artist. Which, at this stage in my career, is a bit of a problem. I'm always broke (relatively speaking) and can't afford to buy original art.
However, being an artist that participates in a number of shows every year, I've finally been graced with a wondrous little perk — other artists that also do these shows, and who's work I admire, are getting interested in my work and the door to trade has been unlocked.
I now have a standing invitation with several artists (who I consider friends) to trade when I find a painting or sculpture of theirs I'm interested in having. What a fabulous opportunity to build my own personal art collection! In fact, at my last two shows, I was approached by several artists interested in trading work. I'd have a number of new pieces to start my collection if it wasn't for the fact that most of my current inventory was unavailable for trade due to prior commitments. But, as I create more work over the coming months, I'll be keeping their offers firmly in mind.
Trade, as incredible as it sounds, is a BIG responsibility. I want to make sure I not only select art that I connect with emotionally, but I also want to be sure I get work that best reflects the artist's style and skill. Now I know how serious collectors feel.
Thanks to those artists who enjoy my work enough that they're interested in trading for it — it’s tremendously flattering. I'm really looking forward to starting my collection.
However, being an artist that participates in a number of shows every year, I've finally been graced with a wondrous little perk — other artists that also do these shows, and who's work I admire, are getting interested in my work and the door to trade has been unlocked.
I now have a standing invitation with several artists (who I consider friends) to trade when I find a painting or sculpture of theirs I'm interested in having. What a fabulous opportunity to build my own personal art collection! In fact, at my last two shows, I was approached by several artists interested in trading work. I'd have a number of new pieces to start my collection if it wasn't for the fact that most of my current inventory was unavailable for trade due to prior commitments. But, as I create more work over the coming months, I'll be keeping their offers firmly in mind.
Trade, as incredible as it sounds, is a BIG responsibility. I want to make sure I not only select art that I connect with emotionally, but I also want to be sure I get work that best reflects the artist's style and skill. Now I know how serious collectors feel.
Thanks to those artists who enjoy my work enough that they're interested in trading for it — it’s tremendously flattering. I'm really looking forward to starting my collection.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
