Published: 8/24/2022 10:31:33 PM
Modified: 8/24/2022 10:27:57 PM
A surreal spider-woman welcomes visitors to this year’s edition of Sculpturefest, the annual outdoor exhibition on the property of Charlet and Peter Davenport in Woodstock. The sun-dappled spider was situated under a big willow tree and presided over the entrance to the grounds. The work is Sande French Stockwell’s Tribute to Louise Bourgeois (2019), and it’s constructed from a combination of materials: Rebar and wire form the legs, while the body and face appear to be sculpted from painted fiberglass.
The spider’s face is a likeness of the sculptor Bourgeois (1911-2010). It’s an apt tribute to an artist who is known for her Maman, a series of monumental bronze spiders that have appeared in public spaces throughout the United States and abroad, including in Hanover several years ago, outside Dartmouth’s Black Family Visual Arts Center.
While the Davenports obviously have a deep affection for art (they’ve been hosting Sculpturefest for over 30 years) they are equally as invested in sharing their land, which they believe, according to a statement on their website “belongs to all of us.”
It can take a while to settle into the idea of wandering someone’s property unaccompanied. There was a part of me that felt as though someone at any moment might yell out, “Hey! What are you doing on my property!” But that worry faded as I continued up the driveway and looked to my left, toward a grassy hillside, and saw a variety of forms — some strange, some familiar — inhabiting the landscape. Some appeared to have been there since the beginning of time while others revealed themselves in starker contrast; blips on the horizon. A figure kneeling, flashes of blue and yellow, a revolving fulcrum in steel glinting in the sun.
Anyone, regardless of their experience with art, can glean something from visiting the Prosper Road site. A visit to Sculpturefest is part nature walk, part art adventure. Art nerds like me might notice that the selections seem to take you on a little mini-tour of the evolution of sculpture. For example, the simplified forms of Amanda Ann Palmer’s triad Sisters recalls paleolithic totem-figures, which play nicely against the curvy silhouette of Barbara Kaufman’s wryly titled Sharon Stone, a classical female figure that hints at the pure, naturalistic beauty of Hellenistic statuary. As a counterpoint to these, a selection of chrome modernist kinetic works by Blaze Konefal are distributed across the site.
But even without an art-history frame of reference in mind, the sculptures are, in their own right, a lot of fun to experience. Each one played off of the textures and contours of the surrounding environment. Herb Ferris’ Dance of Ideas (which is reminiscent of two massive, fossilized mammoth tusks) frames a view of the hillside. The graceful contours of the two serpentine pieces of weathered driftwood create arabesques that torque through the landscape.
Jay Mead’s Red Lines is a large circle made from a row of post-like vermillion branches. The towering loop is monumental without being imposing. Despite its high-keyed color, it somehow works with the undulating treeline and gently rolling terrain.
I walked around the work several times, tracing the red spindles with my eyes as I negotiated the slope upon which it is installed. When I looked past the piece, into a grove of tall trees, the trunks appeared to glow purple. It was a magical instance where the sculpture altered (at least perceptually) the color of the landscape. Whether intentional or incidental, this kind of activation is precisely what makes experiencing art in the flesh so exciting.
The loveliest and most tender moment occurred as I passed through an opening in a thicket and emerged into a sunny clearing where a bear, rainbow flying fish and a host of sundry figures greeted me. The whimsical curation evoked a genuine sense of delight, like I’d stumbled upon a gathering of mythic creatures.
The bear was a work by Liz Fletcher titled Passaconaway, which is essentially a mask-like bear head on a plinth and situated at the entrance to the clearing. Its placement at the threshold of this section of the property gave it the presence of a benevolent gatekeeper. A row of fish painted in rainbow tones was hanging from a wire hung across the diameter of the clearing, making them appear to swim through the air. This work, by Charlotte Donaldson, was appropriately titled Who Says Fish Don’t Fly. Sometimes art takes itself too seriously, and it was refreshing to see a display that embraced lightheartedness and a spirit of play.
A feeling of generosity and care permeates the exhibition, as one indulges in a pure, aesthetic experience while surrounded by the splendor of nature. You can sense that the Davenports really want you to explore the farthest corners of the land as you are guided by the sculptures and various art objects which are so lovingly curated into the landscape.
Sculpturefest is located on Prosper Road in Woodstock. It is open daily from dawn to dusk through foliage season. For more information visit www.sculpturefest.org.
Eric Sutphin is a freelance writer. He lives in Plainfield.
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