The Artful Mind North Street March Artists

BERKSHIRE’S ART MAGAZINE FOR PROMOTING ARTISTS TO THE NEXT LEVEL | IN PRINT & FREE SINCE 1994

THE ARTFUL MIND

MARCH 2025

HAPI PHACE

ARTIST AND PERFORMER

PHOTOGRAPH BY BOBBY MILLER

the

IN PRINT SINCE 1994

MARCH 2025

ARTFUL MIND

The wheels on the bus go round and round

All through the town-o. Crank up that engine!

JOANE CORNELL

FINE JEWELRY

In Other Words...Poetry by Elizabeth Cassidy ... 11

Hapi Phace Artist / Performer

Interview by Harryet Candee Cover by Bobby Miller... 14

Jane Craker Visual Artist

Interview by Harryet Candee... 30

Richard Britell | FICTION

Something for Over the Couch

PART 25 “Uncle Firp” ... 47

Mining My Life

Diaries of Jane Gennaro Hip Story. Chapter One.... 48

Publisher Harryet Candee

Copy Editor Marguerite Bride

Contributing Photographers

Edward Acker Tasja Keetman Bobby Miller

THE ROYAL STACK

Collection of 18kt gold/silver hand forged cuffs.

Adorned with diamonds, Aquamarine and Tourmaline stones.

Hand Forged Designs

www.JoaneCornellFineJewelry.com

9 Main St. Chatham, NY

Contributing Writers

Richard Britell Jane Gennaro

Third Eye Jeff Bynack

Distribution Ruby Aver

Advertising / Editorial inquiries and

Subscriptions by mail: 413-645-4114

artfulmind@yahoo.com

Read the online version. Go to ISSUU.COM

Type in -The Artful Mind

Join the FB group:

ARTFUL MIND GALLERY for Artful Minds 23

THE ARTFUL MIND

PO Box 985

Great Barrington, MA 01230

FYI— Disclaimer: : ©Copyright laws in effect throughout The Artful Mind for

logo & all graphics including text material. Copyright laws for photographers

and writers throughout The Artful Mind. Permission to reprint is required in all

instances. In any case the issue does not appear on the stands as planned

due to unforeseeable circumstances beyond our control, advertisers will be

compensated on a one to one basis. All commentaries by writers are not

necessarily the opinion of the publisher and take no responsibility for their

facts and opinions. All photographs submitted for advertisers are the responsibility

for advertiser to grant release permission before running image or photograph.

Carolyn M. Abrams

In Flight

Oils/cold wax medium 12” x 12”

Atmospheric and Inspirational Art

www.carolynabrams.com

MEMBER GUILD OF BERKSHIRE ARTISTS

4 • MARCH 2025 THE ARTFUL MIND

GHETTA HIRSCH

The blanket of snow is still

surrounding us but the warmth of our

sky tells us of increasing light.

We love our Berkshires in all seasons!

Come and see this painting in my

Art Studio in Williamstown.

Call or text Ghetta Hirsch at

413-597-1716 to visit.

Ghetta-hirsch.squarespace.com

Ghetta is also exhibiting at

Gallery North

9 Eagle Street in North Adams, MA

“Soundless” 24” x 30” Oil on canvas

Pamela Berkeley

At

Blue Mountain Gallery

Recollections 2025

February 25 Through

March 22, 2025

Opening Reception

Saturday March 1

3 to 6 pm

__________________

Blue Mountain Gallery

547 West 27th Street, Suite 200, New York, NY

Hellebore in a Peter Hewitt Vase Oil on Linen, 36” x 30”, 2024


JOHN LIPKOWITZ

—PHOTOGRAPHY—

LIPKOWITZ RETURNS TO AFRICA

FEBRUARY 28 — MARCH 30, 2025

e

Artist’s Opening Reception:

Saturday, March 1, 2025 3 - 6pm

510 WARREN STREET GALLERY

510 Warren Street, Hudson, New York g Fridays and Saturdays 12 - 6pm • Sundays 12 - 5pm

JOHNLIPKOWITZPHOTOGRAPHY.COM

JLIPKOWITZ1@AOL.COM

THE ARTFUL MIND MARCH 2025 • 7

36” X 36” FRAMED / SPRAY PAINT & PENCIL / PASTEL

PHOTO: KORENMAN.COM MODELS: EDEN HOOD

AND JORDAN ALIYAH

REPRESENTED BY THE WIT GALLERY.

CLOCK TOWER ARTISTS, PITTSFIELD, MA

DEBORAH H. CARTER

Deborah H. Carter is a multi-media artist from

Lenox, MA, who creates upcycled sustainable

wearable art. Her couture pieces are constructed

from post-consumer waste such as food packaging,

wine corks, cardboard, books, wire, plastic, and

other discarded items and thrifted wares. She manipulates

the color, shape, and texture of her materials

to compel us to question our assumptions of

beauty and worth and ultimately reconsider our

habits and attitudes about waste and consumerism.

A sewing enthusiast since the age of 8, Deborah

first learned her craft by creating clothing with her

mother and grandmothers. Her passion took hold

as she began to design and sew apparel and accessories.

After graduating with a degree in fashion

design from Parsons School of Design in New York

City, she worked as a women’s sportswear designer

on Seventh Avenue.

Deborah’s art has been exhibited in galleries and

art spaces around the US. She was one of 30 designers

selected to showcase her work at the

FS2020 Fashion Show annually at the University

of Saint Andrews, Scotland. She has featured in the

Spring 2023 What Women Create magazine.

Deborah H. Carter has been featured in The Artful

Mind, Berkshire magazine, What Women Create

magazine and was a finalist in the World of WearableArt

competition in Wellington, New Zealand

2023.

Deborah H Carter-

413-441-3220, Clock Tower Artists

75 S. Church St., Studio 315, 3rd floor

Pittsfield, Massachusetts

Instagram: @deborah_h_carter

Debhcarter@yahoo.com


43” X 57” FRAMED / PENCIL ON PAPER

DRAWING SAMPLE USING DRAWALL

DRAFTING AND

MECHANICAL

DRAWING TOOL

I’m Leonardo Sideri: artist, interior industrial

designer, inventor. I’m the creator and maker of

‘drawall.net’, a product devised in the 1980s. At the

time, I was drawing, drafting my own design projects

using a Mayline straight edge on a traditional

horizontal drafting surface. There were times as a

designer when I wanted to draw something full

size, large format.

I don’t recall when the idea to adapt the Mayline

concept to a wall application occurred but at the

time, I had a project involving pulleys and belt

drives, so I had an assortment of pulleys lying

around my studio. The process involved assembling

the odd parts to create this new drawing device:

pulleys, sash cord, counterweights, a straight

edge. Surprisingly, it worked quite well. Who knew

40 years later I would offer it to the art world.

Due to changing life circumstances, Drawall

went into storage. Until one day, at age 75, I viewed

a room size ‘Sol Lewitt’ pencil drawn installation

at the DIA Museum. It was all I needed for inspiration

lasting the next 11 years. I started drawing

using what’s now known as Drawall and referring

to myself as an artist. I’ve produced what I consider

a small modest body of work based on my mystical

X theme.

I’m offering Drawall to the ‘art world’ as a new

tool to explore, to hopefully resurrect drafting and

mechanical drawing to a new ‘art genre’. It’s not

every day a new analogue tool is introduced to the

art world.

Leonardo Siderileonardosideri.com

TREE AND SHRUBS

BRUCE PANOCK

I am a visual artist using photography as the

platform to begin a journey of exploration. My

journey began in earnest almost 14 years ago when

I retired due to health issues and began devoting

myself to the informal study of art, artists and particularly

photography. Before retiring I had begun

studying photography as a hobby. After my retirement,

the effort took on a greater intensity.

My world had changed for reasons outside of

my control and I looked for something different in

my work. I wanted to do more than document what

was around me. I wanted to create something that

the viewers might join with me and experience.

Due to my health issues, I found myself confined

with my activities generally restricted. For the first

time I began looking inward, to the world that I experienced,

though not always through physical interaction.

It is a world where I spend more time

trying to understand what I previously took for

granted and did not think about enough. The ideas

ranged from pleasure and beauty to pain and loss;

from isolation to abandonment; to walking past

what is uncomfortable to see. During this period of

isolation, I began thinking about what is isolation,

how it can transition to abandonment and then into

being forgotten. The simplest display of this idea is

abandoned buildings. They were once beautiful,

then allowed to run down and abandoned, soon to

be forgotten. After a while they disappear. Either

mankind knocks down these forgotten once beautiful

structures, or remediates them, or Nature reclaims

the space. Doesn’t mankind do the same

with its own?

My work employs references to other photographers,

painters, as well as sculptors. The brushwork

of Chinese and Japanese artists is appealing for

both its simplicity and beauty. Abstract art has its

own ways of sharing ideas which are jarring and

beautiful at the same time. Black and white and

color works each add their own dynamic. My work

is influenced by these art forms, often using many

of them in a single composited image.

Bruce Panock -

Panockphotography.com

bruce@panockphotography.com

Instagram @brucepanock

Berkshire Boogie Woogie Too Acrylic on Arches watercolor paper 22 inches w x 30 inches h

BRUCE LAIRD

Clock Tower Artists

Business Center Studio #307

75 South Church Street, Pittsfield, MA

Instagram- ecurbart

THE ARTFUL MIND MARCH • 9

RICHARD TALBERT

Richard Talbert c, Self Portrait - Beijing China, 1985

Oil on Linen, Museum Michael Karoli Foundation, Vence, France.

Richard Talbert c, Buddhist Temples in China, 1985

Oil on Linen, Private Collection

In 1985, after receiving the Michael Karolyi Foundation Fellowship with a stipend for One Year in Vence, France. I had the opportunity

to live and work as a full time professional artist. I also showcased my artwork in the Cote d’Azur and the historic villages of Saint-Paulde-Vence

and Vence, France. The village's breathtaking beauty and rich cultural heritage have long been a source of inspiration for

me. My solo exhibition at the Hotel Le Maison in Vence was a highlight of my career, with its stunning setting and warm reception by

the local community. I'm also deeply humbled to have paid homage to the iconic Chapelle du Rosaire de Vence, often referred to as

the Matisse Chapel, a masterpiece of modern art that continues to inspire generations of artists. Reflecting on my journey as an artist,

I'm grateful for the experiences and encounters that have shaped my vision and fueled my creativity.

Email: Richtalbert1@gmail.com

My Lenox Studio is open by appointment. 413.347.3888

richtalbert1@gmail.com | website: richardtalbertdesign.com


MARY ANN YARMOSKY

“What If?”

A Poem by elizabeth cassidy

What if it was all a nightmare

And we woke up feeling light of heart and hopeful.

And not wrapped up in their hate and hate and ignorance.

Ignorance is just another word for fear.

Why do we frighten you?

NATURE GODDESS

maryannyarmosky.com | maryannyarmoskyart.shop

What if I have to tell you that

They may come after you for just being you.

It does my heart no good

To know that you are not here anymore

But I can handle it for both of us.

So, you can go for that walk by the shore

And dip your soul into the sun’s rays.

It is just like how I envisioned it.

You are safe.

What if we wake up and throw

The blankets of apathy off our bodies

And we dance barefooted knowing that we can

Put evil on notice.

What if the weeks or months or years

I have left become the best times.

Because sitting on the sidelines is not an option.

We can hold hands and fly above the fires

And land on a new adventure

Where love is what’s for dinner.

What if we make our shadows long and strong

And surrender to the notion that all we are saying

Is that we come from a place of peace.

You should try it sometime.

Circle of Serenity, Watercolor

Sally Tiska Rice

BERKSHIRE ROLLING HILLS ART

CLOCK TOWER ARTISTS

Studio 302, 3rd floor

75 South Church St, Pittsfield, MA

(413)-446-8469

www.sallytiskarice.com

sallytiskarice@gmail.com

What if we do this together.

Go ahead. You can lead.

I will follow behind you.

I got a pocket full of rose petals that

I would like to place on your shoulders

So, I can lighten your load.

© 2025 elizabeth cassidy

elizabeth cassidy studio works

artist, illustrator, writer, poet,

peace lover

elizabethcassidystudioworks.com


janet cooper

LIONEL DELEVINGNE

“Back to the Future” 1976—2024

Wall Tapestry

510 WARREN STREET GALLERY, Hudson NY now offering

Vintage Delevingne silver prints for these times

www.janetcooperdesigns.com

https://www.instagram.com/Lioneldelevingne

http://www.lioneldelevingne.com/

http://www.510WarrenStreetGallery.com

Ruby Aver

Valencia Acrylic on canvas 24”x 24”

rdaver2@gmail.com |

Instagram: rdaver2.

Housatonic Studio open by appointment: 413-854-7007


LESLEE CARSEWELL - ARTIST

A place filled with intrigue.

Intense history and subtle color.

Deep in the French countryside, an abandoned manor house.

Magical stories and mysterious events.

From My Series: From Another Time

As seen in the New York Times


Photo: Bobby Miller

Hapi Phace

ARTIST | PERFORMER

Interview by Harryet Candee

Photography by Bobby Miller and courtesy of the artist

“As Voltaire states in Candide, ‘One must cultivate one’s own garden.’

Some people’s gardens are purposely cultivated, manicured, and tidy, attracting accolades and envy.

Mine, unkempt and weedy, attracts bees who make honey.” —Hapi Phace

Harryet Candee: I recently came across a fascinating

video from 1987 of you strolling through

the streets of New York City on your way to the

opera. Watching it felt as if I were walking

alongside you, observing you in your element—

youthful, confident, and exuding a certain carefree

elegance, almost princely. How would you

describe life during that time? What captured

your interest, and what fueled your excitement

back then?

Hapi Phace: It’s funny—I knew, on some level,

that video would come to define me to people from

the future, those I might never meet. But first, it was

me defining myself to myself, while simultaneously

shaping how others would discover me

long after I was gone. And yet, here I am, 30 or 40

years later, still here, grateful for the chance to continue

fine-tuning that self-definition, both personally

and publicly.


Life back then? Hmm. It was another century, a different

time, and a different age—for New York, for

this country, for society, and for me. It’s difficult to

recall the early steps of one’s journey when nearing

its end. Rather than attempt a single encapsulation,

I’ll try to offer glimpses of my life, my interests,

and what excited me then, as those memories aren’t

immediately top of mind in response to your questions.

From what I’ve seen of you and from our conversations,

almost everything you do seems connected

to things that keep you young. Your

creative pursuits are age-defying—playful and

imaginative. Are you aware of that? We’ve discussed

how the process in art-making is often

more important than the final product. How do

you consider this idea in relation to your own

work?

It’s a wonderful feeling to know that you’ve recognized,

in me, a sense of age-defiance. Haha, I love

that—especially now that I’m closer to 70 than 60

and starting to experience some of the bodily decomposition

that comes with the never-ending life

cycle. In fact, I just took an exercise course designed

to help seniors stay physically limber. Keeping

my mind limber has been easier, though. As a

child of eight or nine, when adults began warning

me that I needed to start acting like a grown-up, I

promised myself I’d never forget what it felt like to

wholeheartedly believe in the imaginary. That became

my guilty secret—no matter what outer guise

I might need to wear as an adult, I would always

privately maintain my powers of imagination.

It’s in that space, where everything is possible despite

practical impossibilities, where imagination

reigns, that I go to create, to make art, to dream up

shows. It hasn’t necessarily proven to be the most

Hapi Phace in a still from a video by Nelson Sullivan. Astor Place, NYC, 1987.

efficient or profitable way of making art or performance,

but it’s what works for me, Hapi Phace.

You know I’m not an expert at anything except

being me, and I can honestly say no one else could

do being me as well as I do. Of course, that applies

to everyone, but I’ve noticed that most unhappy

people try to be someone other than themselves.

I’ve had the pleasure of interviewing several of

your close friends, including Jorge Clar and

Scooter LaForge. Bobby Miller, who initially

connected us, brought us all together through

his portrait photography. He captured images

of each of you at different times and locations,

revealing the vibrant, artistic lives you lead. I’m

forever grateful to him for introducing us. I’m

particularly interested in hearing the story of

how you all met one another.

I’ve known Bobby Miller the longest of them all,

dating back to the early days of the Pyramid club

in NYC and some theater work I did at La MaMa.

He did hair and makeup for performers and was always

willing to help anyone with their wig or

makeup touch-ups. He was always joyful, fun, and

a bit dishy, too—haha, he knows all the gossip.

He’s still the same.

Oddly, or perhaps not, I also know him from having

gone to see a psychic-spiritual channel named

Hilda Charlton. An artist friend I loved and deeply

admired, Brian Damage, brought me to one of

Hilda’s gatherings at Saint John the Divine in NYC.

I’d often confided my early childhood psychic and

out-of-body experiences to Brian, unsure of what

he thought about them. On that occasion, I found

out exactly what he thought. The cathedral was

filled with people who had had similar experiences

and who had gathered to hear Hilda speak about

our connection to the spirit world and, by extension,

our interconnectedness. Her assistant and mentee

on the dais that day was Bobby Miller. So, for me,

our connection has an added mystical dimension.

I met Scooter LaForge through a mutual friend,

Keith Schaffer, who lived in my building. I think

Scooter was still in art school, and Keith showed

me some photos of Scooter’s paintings. There was

one in particular with Snow White and bluebirds in

it. It was so magical and mythical that I fell in love

with it. I expressed an interest in buying it when

Keith introduced me to Scooter. I don’t know if he

didn’t believe me, if it wasn’t for sale, or if he just

thought I was nuts, but either way, Scooter and his

paintings impressed me greatly.

Years later, I became reacquainted with and got to

know Scooter through Jorge Clar. I had seen

Scooter a few times with Jorge and some of our

other mutual friends, but Scooter seemed a bit reticent

towards me. It wasn’t until I reminded him of

our mutual friendship with Keith and we shared

memories of him that something sparked—a sort

of intimacy, I suppose, that comes out of shared

loss. But as tricksters, we turn and reverse the

world, ourselves. But one of or magic tricks is turning

grief into joy, and one of the joys we share is

Jorge Clar.

How’s that for a segue? Hahaha… Remember

those personal vehicles called Segways? And the

guy who accidentally rolled off a cliff? Wow! I just

bunged up my segue and am riding this interview

over the proverbial cliff! Okay, okay, back to Jorge.

I initially became aware of Jorge from his online

persona. Now, when we first met—well, that’s like

Roman origin mythology; I have more than one

version. It can’t be helped. You know when you

meet someone and you feel like you’ve always

known them? And you even think you’ve probably

known them in another life, if you’re a reincarnationalist

like I am? But my favored version of our

meeting was in Provincetown during a typhoon that

had stalled out to sea, causing a lethally thick fog.

It was like those scenes in The Iliad when Athena

comes down under an aegis of fog to manipulate

events and decide fates.

We were both in a themed art exhibit curated by artist

Rafael Sánchez at AMP Gallery. I had a number

of papier-mâché pieces in the show, primarily a

large amount of papier-mâché rocks and stones.

Jorge and his good friend, the artist Dietmar Busse,

whose work was also in the exhibit, were coming

up from NYC for the opening, where Jorge was

scheduled to do a poetry reading.

The train from NYC to Boston takes four or five

hours. Then there’s a hydrofoil ferry from Boston

to Provincetown, which takes about an hour. But

with the weather, there were no ferries. So Plan B

was to take the bus to Hyannis, and then a bus

Continued on next page...


Joel Handorff (L) and Scooter LaForge (R) playing cribbage at Chez Phace. Cambridge, MA, 2023–2024. Photos courtesy of Hapi Phace.

through many small towns, with the last stop being

Provincetown at the tip of the Cape. It’s a torturously

long trip in the best of weather, but this was

pea-soup fog, so it took forever. It seemed like they

were going to miss the opening, but with only about

five minutes left, they materialized from the fog.

Now, had that been me, arriving after a trip that was

supposed to take five or six hours but ended up taking

18 or 19, with no time to prepare before going

on? I’d be a frantic, discombobulated hot mess on

the verge of a nervous breakdown. But Debbie Nadolney,

the gallerist, asked Jorge if he was willing

to go on, and he calmly replied, “I just need a minute

or two to change ponchos.” Which he did, with

calm and purpose.

I had no idea what to expect, but when I hear the

words “poetry reading,” I shudder a bit. They can

be excruciating. Without much ado, Jorge was introduced.

He took a sketchbook with his line drawings,

and after invoking the gods, he began to

deliver a short and eloquent tone poem in harmony

with the drawings and all the forces inhabiting that

moment in time. I turned to the friend who had accompanied

me and helped me hang my work, Tony

Stinkmetal, and said, “I want him to be in my Karload

of Klowns.” You see, I was still developing it

and casting for Karload. His calm centeredness was

a great foil for my more kinetic and all-over-theplace

zaniness.

Did you know the word “zany” comes from the

Italian name “Zanni,” a stock Commedia dell’Arte

character—namely, the trickster or jester. From that

point on, Jorge and I began a chain of synchronistic


creative explorations and projects.

I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that the next

day, I sat for the portraits by Bobby Miller that you

are using with this interview. Synchronicity upon

synchronicity.

What do you all share in common, and what sets

you apart from one another?

Well, that’s a good question, but I’m not sure I have

a definite answer. Some of the things we share in

common, as well as the things that make us different,

come from our intimate friendships and shared

experiences, which are private. I’m always discovering

what we have in common and where we

differ, and those things can—and do—change.

None of us are carved out of stone. We are all constantly

creating, developing, succeeding, and failing

as artists and as people. So, in saying that, I’ve

sort of answered the first part of the question about

our commonality, haven’t I? But then, as I imagine,

if you asked any of them the same question, their

opinion could very well differ from mine. Oops! I

did it again, answering the second part of the question

about differences, without fully addressing it…

Like I said, Harryet, it’s a good question—so much

so that I’ll be asking myself this for days and toiling

over a better answer. More than a question, it’s a

koan! A riddle!

A koan! Okay, let’s take a step back in time—

what was your childhood like, Hapi?

I remember being terrified of turning 18 and being

drafted. I spent a large portion of my childhood trying

to imagine myself becoming an inanimate object,

particularly a chair, of all things. I did not want

to go to war. It was an all-pervading, looming reality

for male teens. It’s wonderful that kids no longer

grow up with that possibility in their future. I hope

it stays like that, but I’m losing faith in that, I am

sad to say. But, going back to then, it was a big part

of my personal psychology and my defense mechanism

of holding onto the magic of imagination despite

the inescapable march of time and maturity.

Realizing that I would probably not be able to

transform myself into a chair, I was constantly

thinking of a more practical Plan B—I am a big believer

in having a Plan B at all times—how I would

escape the draft by emigrating to Canada. Funny,

but I’m once again thinking about emigration.

Though, due to my dislike of cold weather, I’ve

added a Plan C—Mexico. I would be happy in

either. I think one should always find a way to be

happy no matter where one lives, but it’s a different

challenge in this country these days.

You mentioned Joel as a mentor, with the intriguing

connection of his friendship with Abby

Hoffman adding depth to his background.

Could you share more about your relationship

with Joel? Who is he, exactly, and what specific

lessons or influences did he impart to you as an

artist?

Actually, it’s Joel’s husband, Jim Fouratt, who

knew Abby Hoffman through the Youth International

Party, or Yippies. Jim and I crossed paths

in the seventies. He booked bands for clubs in NYC

HAPI PHACE ARTIST | PERFORMER

Selfie of Hapi at home under a 2019 portrait by Scooter LaForge. Sketch by Hapi of Joel Handorff and Frankie the Cat. East Village, NYC, 2023.

and would come down to Athens, Georgia, to scout

bands. Our spheres began to overlap in NYC

through our involvement in nightclubs, AIDS activism,

and a large shared circle of friends, though

we hadn’t formed the intimate friendship we enjoy

today. That came through his marriage to Joel. They

became an item soon after I met Joel.

Though Joel and I lived around the block from one

another in NYC for decades, I only got to meet him

a few years ago through Jorge Clar. Joel came to

anything and everything I would come down to

NYC to do—by that time, Jorge was always on

stage with me. Joel would always come up to me

afterward and offer encouraging words. Mind you,

I am completely stone-deaf in one ear, and Joel,

who doesn’t have a stentorian voice like mine,

would speak into my deaf ear. I didn’t always know

exactly what he was saying, but through his body

language and aura, his encouragement was clear.

From that, we ventured forth as friends—especially

when we discovered we both play cribbage. Joel's

large, centrally located apartment is the natural

gathering place for our group of friends.

It’s chock-a-block with years of his artwork, paintings,

drawings, sculptures, Frankie the cat, and

more. I got to know Joel through his art and hearing

him talk about it—and about his life; the two are

intertwined. Sometimes, we would all sketch one

another in sketchbooks that live at Joel’s apartment.

I was only an intermittent visitor, so I only participated

a couple of times, but it was something they

did often enough that there was an evolution of portraits

from previous sessions. I got the impression

they have a name for this practice, “The Magic

Mirror,” though I may have misheard due to my

hearing loss. That used to upset me, but one time

Joel said, “Hapi, you just hear differently than

others.” That opened one or two chakras for me—

like meeting my guru on the road, as we used to say

in the seventies.

Often now, when I visit NYC, I stay with Joel and

Jim. Besides getting in some much-needed hands

of cribbage—cribbage is one of those “if-youknow-you-know”

things, sort of Masonic; you have

to be initiated into its mysteries. But I digress. Have

you noticed that about me? I’m a tangential thinker

and often go off in other directions. Many people—

“tidy gardeners”—find that irritating. But Joel, Jim,

and other friends we’ve discussed can flow and follow

along with me. I invite you to insert your own

jazz-riff metaphor here. I forget which author said

it, but metaphors exist to fill the voids where words

don’t.

I live a mostly isolated, private existence, keeping

silent, so when I’m around people, I tend to—pressure-cooker

metaphor—explode with things I’ve

wanted to voice: ideas or thoughts I want to bounce

off others. It’s a rather intimate experience for me,

presenting thoughts for critique and collaboration.

I feel I’m veering off into the abstract here, so let

me illustrate with a story: Joel was hospitalized for

a long duration—due to HIPAA reasons, I won’t go

into detail—but what was supposed to be a few

weeks turned into months.

When I was a teenager, I had been hospitalized for

over three months and knew the hell Joel and his

loved ones—Jim and their friends—were enduring.

I came down to NYC for an appearance, though I

don’t remember in what. That isn’t important. During

the trip, I visited Joel at a rehab hospital.

Scooter and Jorge came along. We brought Karload

of Klowns costumes, makeup, art supplies, and Chinese

takeout, just kind of klowning around in Karload

of Klowns fashion. Perhaps I should explain

that I spell klown with a “k” rather than a “c” to differentiate

us from the Ringling Brothers Clown

College, child-safe clowns. Our niche is more trickster,

Reynard the Fox, ritualistic, primal klowns.

Of course, I brought a cribbage board and cards, so

Joel and I could get in a few hands. We all sketched

one another in Joel’s Magic Mirror sketchbooks. It

became an impromptu healing ceremony—a starfish

ceremony, as I call it. You know how starfish

can regrow a lost appendage? That regenerative

metaphor has been a construct I’ve called upon for

myself and others. Infusing color and joviality into

the monochrome ennui of an extended hospital stay

was a bonding experience for all of us. I’m happy

to say Joel is doing far better today.

When Joel and Jim came up last autumn for

Scooter’s mid-career retrospective at Lesley University,

it was wonderful to repay their hospitality

and have many of our friends gathered here. At

once, for once. The word once pronounced in Spanish

is the word for eleven, so “at once, for once”

becomes an encoded eleven-eleven! Synchronicity

abounds…



(L) Jorge Clar and Hapi Phace as Palimpsesto and Puddlez in Karload of Klowns at the Gene Frankel Theatre, circa 2016. Photo by Rafael Sánchez.

(R) A page from the script of the 1994 production of Carload of Clowns, the protogenesis of today’s Karload of Klowns.

Among the artistic venues you’re passionate

about, performing and being on stage stand out.

Could you share some of your experiences in

this area? How have they enriched your life and

served as a valuable tool in supporting your pursuits

and navigating challenges?

Most of the venues where I performed are now part

of history or have transformed into other iterations.

Since I no longer live there, perhaps it’s a case of

“out of sight, out of mind.” Occasionally, Howl! invites

me to make an appearance or perform to commemorate

someone or something, and I almost

always say yes without thinking. In my opinion, it’s

one of perhaps three places that still maintain an

ember of the magic fire that was East Village performance

art in the 1980s. Another venue like that

is Participant, and the third is the Gene Frankel

Theatre, where my current performance-art iteration,

Karload of Klowns, is centered.

Looking back, the Pyramid on Avenue A was the

omphalos—that’s Greek for navel—of my performance

work, whether it was art or not. I was in

countless shows there, from throwaway nightclub

performances to more serious theatrical endeavors,

often presented earlier in the evening on Mondays.

Along with many others, I cut my performance

teeth there.

A book published in 2024 thoroughly describes

much of what happened there. I highly recommend

it to anyone interested in the golden era of East Village

performance art. Jorge edited it, by the way.


It’s called “We Started a Nightclub”: The Birth of

the Pyramid Cocktail Lounge as Told by Those

Who Lived It.

I also have a brief history working backstage at The

Ridiculous Theatrical Company for a few productions

and performing onstage, including playing

Quasimodo in their version of The Hunchback of

Notre Dame. Hirschfeld, the “Nina” caricaturist,

even sketched me and Cheryl Reeves as Esmeralda!

I have a history with other stalwarts of East Village

off- and off-off-Broadway venues, such as La

MaMa, Dixon Place, 8BC, Chandelier, St. Mark’s

Church in-the-Bowery, and Performance Space

122. Sometimes I performed my own shows or collaborated

on productions, but more often, I was part

of someone else’s work. All those opportunities

stemmed from my stint at the Pyramid, where I was

the emcee for the Sunday night shows, known as

Whispers. The evenings were packed with artists

of all stripes. I never auditioned for a part—hosting

those nights essentially served as my audition. As

a result, I was often invited to be part of other

people’s work, and I usually said yes.

That’s also where I met Ethyl Eichelberger, a theatrical

legend who greatly influenced me and

opened doors to other performance and theater venues.

Through Ethyl’s troupe, I met and worked with

a whole crew of older theater artists and what we

affectionately called “characters.” At the makeup

mirror, they shared stories from their generation

and the histories of those who preceded them—

tales of the long tradition of female impersonators

stretching back to the turn of the last century.

I heard stories about Julian Eltinge, who was so famous

and beloved for playing women’s roles that

a theater critic once described him as “ambisextrous.”

I love that term—I’m fond of neologisms,

even if this one is over 100 years old. The point is,

we often think we’re being original or at the forefront

of something new when, in reality, we’re part

of a continuum, purposefully or unknowingly picking

up threads from the tapestry of time.

I agree with you, Hapi. So, Karload of Klowns is

your relatively new theater production, a manifestation

of your creativity. When did the idea

for this project first come to you, and how did it

develop? What inspired its concept? Every aspect

of the production reflects your personality,

with even the other characters embodying different

facets of who you are.

Ah, yes—what’s old is new again. The first iteration

of Karload was in 1994. One of the performance

troupes I enjoyed working with the most was

Dancenoise, founded by Lucy Sexton and Anne

Iobst. The most concise way to describe their work

is “dance theater.” I’m not a trained dancer—but

then again, hahaha, I’m not a trained actor either.

Anne heard about me from her brother Edgar, who

regularly attended my night at the Pyramid and

suggested they cast me in one of their pieces. That


Father Debbie Harry (L) and Sister Hapi Phace (R) backstage at

Jackie60. Photo courtesy of Hapi Phace.

Hapi Phace as Morris Katz on the set of Linda Simpson’s Manhattan Cable Access talk show, Party Talk. 1987.

Photo courtesy of Hapi Phace.

(L to R) Glen Meadmore, Vaginal Creme Davis, Ru Paul, and Hapi Phace in the dressing room of the

Pyramid Cocktail Lounge, NYC, 1980s. Photo courtesy of Hapi Phace.

Hapi Phace making up onstage in front of a film of Hapi by Anthony Chase during Huck

Snyder’s Circus (1987). La MaMa E.T.C., NYC. Photo courtesy of Hapi Phace.

sparked a chain of synchronistic collaborations and

creations that continues to this day—even this

weekend. In fact, I’m headed down to NYC in a

couple of days to appear with them at a series La

MaMa presents called Coffeehouse Chronicles,

which highlights artists who have presented their

original works at La MaMa over the decades.

What’s fun about these presentations is that the audience

is primarily made up of artists and performers,

so I get to reconnect with many old friends

and acquaintances in a non-funerary setting—a rare

treat as time marches forward. These days, me and

my contemporaries seem to do more panel discussions

and career retrospectives than new work. One

foot on the stage and the other in the grave—such

is the march of time.

Now, retracing my steps back to 1994. Lucy and

Anne, through their connections, would sometimes

have access to theater spaces with dark nights, and

they’d invite artists who had performed with them

to create short pieces with minimal effort—perfect

for my style. These nights weren’t Dancenoise

shows; they were presented under the banner

Summer of Bad Plays.

It was during Summer of Bad Plays III: Advil and

Mistletoe in December ’94 at the Blue Angel Cabaret,

the basement of Soho Rep, that I wrote my

first Carload—still with a “c”—show. We all

“made a show,” as we called it, and performed in

each other’s shows. Many of the people from that

first edition will be at Coffeehouse Chronicles this

weekend. Talk about coming full circle—but I digress.

The cast included Laurie Weeks, Mike Iveson,

Charlie Atlas, Joe Westmoreland, Ishmael Houston-Jones,

Tony Stinkmetal, Lucy, Anne, and me.

Staying true to the “bad play” concept, I set out to

write the worst play possible. I had just reread

Heinrich Böll’s novel The Clown, which influenced

me deeply. I first read it in the seventies because I

liked the cover—yes, I judge books by their covers,

no matter the adage.

The novel follows a German clown processing his

past in the aftermath of the Nazi regime. That mood

lingered as I imagined a clown car on the BQE

headed to JFK. I have no idea if that’s actually how

you get to JFK, but the beauty of a bad play is that

nothing needs to make sense. That concept has

stayed with me throughout all the Karload of

Klowns shows.

Why are these clowns headed to the airport? To

pick up the body of one of their colleagues, Tomas,

the German Expressionist Clown. On the way, they

delve into their personal depression, recounting

memories of Tomas. Think of the funeral scene in

Fellini’s The Clowns, but with a Waiting for Godot

twist: we never have the funeral because the car

breaks down. Instead, the clowns keep getting out,

as clowns are wont to do, giving voice to their existential

malaise. It was so bad it was good.

Charlie Atlas’s performance was a standout—he

mummified himself in plastic wrap, which was hilarious

when he had to move and speak. Charlie is

an incredible video artist. His 50-year retrospective

is currently at the ICA in Boston, I should mention.



Self‐portrait after dress rehearsal for Huck Snyder’s Circus (1987). NYC. Self‐published zine The Hapi Phace New’z (sic), Jan. 1, 1989.

He was Merce Cunningham’s official videographer

and shot my funeral piece, I Told You These Heels

Were Killing Me.

Am I veering off again? Let’s get back on track—

linear narrative doesn’t come naturally to me, hahaha.

Fast forward to around 2013 or ’14, when the new

downtown Whitney Museum hosted a Dancenoise

retrospective with props, photos, videos, costumes,

and a live performance. The girls asked me to be in

the show, and I was reunited with so many old collaborators.

While I enjoyed being part of retrospective

pieces, I still felt like I had new work to create.

Living at a distance, though, I didn’t have many opportunities.

Like the old NY Lottery slogan says: “You gotta be

in it to win it.” I wanted back in, so I asked my costars

if they’d team up for a new show. Most were

wrapped up in their projects, but Tony Stinkmetal

showed interest.

We had worked together in Dancenoise and

Summer of Bad Plays shows but never hung out

outside of work. At the time, he was writing a

script—maybe for a film, maybe for the stage—

and seeking a sweet spot between the two. A friendship

quickly blossomed. He visited my place as a

retreat to write, and I stayed with him while reacquainting

myself with Downtown.

Howl! Happening, Participant Gallery, and the

Gene Frankel Theatre became part of that journey.

Meanwhile, Rafael Sánchez curated a group show

at AMP Gallery and invited me to showcase my papier-mâché

sculptures. Rafael is a good friend of


Gail Thacker, which is probably how I first came

into Gail’s orbit.

The first friends I made at the Pyramid, some of

whom I created shows with, were members of “The

Boston School,” though the term hadn’t been

coined yet. They all knew Gail and spoke of her

legendary reputation—whether deserved or not. I

shied away from her at first, afraid of exaggerated

stories. Friendship, however, happens when it’s

ready—and ours took 30 years to incubate.

Stinkmetal also brought Gail back into my orbit.

There were many synchronistic circles coming together.

Stinkmetal had done work at the Gene Frankel

Theatre, where Thomas R. Gordon offered to

do tech for him in exchange for a benefit performance

for Thomas’s theater company, Onomatopoeia.

As the benefit approached, Stinkmetal was leaning

more toward film. He suggested I revive the 1994

Carload of Clowns. It had apparently made a lasting

impression on him, though I’d totally forgotten

about it.

At first, I thought I’d remount it as-is, but since I

couldn’t find the original script—and wanted to do

something new anyway—I wrote a fresh version. I

typically write parts with specific actors in mind

and wanted to add social commentary on the absurdity

surrounding us during election season. With

twenty-something right-wing nutcases entering the

race, the term “carload of clowns” was being

thrown around on television...

What thoughts and ideas motivate you as you

prepare for future performances?

My creative process, in a nutshell, is rather assbackwards,

I know, but it works for me. I come up

with a clever title and a broad concept for a show,

then I sell it to whomever has a stage and an opening

in their booking dates. And that’s when the

magic of my process begins. Though by “magic,”

I mean a crazy-making, deadline-defying flurry of

prop and costume making. So much so that sometimes

I don’t get around to actually writing the

show.

However, I carry on an inner monologue of all the

things I want to say in the performance and try to

repeat as much as I can remember once the show

is on. Of course, this can be problematic with the

cast, but I’m lucky to have a core group of performers

who grasp the broad concept and general

outline of what I want to portray. I’m very fortunate

that they are comfortable with my style of showmaking.

It also doesn’t hurt that a couple of them, namely

Gail Thacker and Nora Burns, are non-verbal characters,

which allows them to have their own subjective

creative expression within the broader

outline I’m presenting. In a sense, it’s a free-form,

collaborative process, though I never completely

relinquish my starring and dictatorial role.

In that regard, I’m presenting my full-frontal tragic

flaw as a performer—and probably as a person—

and I rely on the non-verbal characters to mock me

and my egotism, creating an inside joke with the

audience.

And then, I wouldn’t do Karload without Jorge


Hapi Phace with an apron in his papier‐mâché studio. Cambridge, MA, 2020s.

Papier‐mâché sculpture in process, displaying the archetypal newspaper, wheat paste,

and balloon technique. Cambridge, MA, 2020s.

Clar as Palimpsesto, a verbal character and my

amanuensis. He has a remarkable talent for absorbing

and retaining all the thoughts, ideas, concepts,

and lines I throw at him, even up until the last minute,

and helping me to convey all that on stage. In

a sense, he’s the Sancho Panza to my Don Quixote.

You mentioned staging your own funeral. Could

you tell us more about that experience?

That show was called I Told You These Heels Were

Killing Me. I pretty much came up with the title as

my epitaph and got it booked at Performance Space

122, but I hadn’t actually written it first. More of

my ass-backwards creative process, hahaha. Like

much of my earlier work, it was much more

scripted, rehearsed, and funded. I even had a producer—my

only time. It was the first piece that theatrical

legend Lori E. Seid ever produced.

The show opened with my friends gathered around

my coffin, dishing about me. Then one of them

opens the coffin, and it’s empty. A leather-clad gogo

guy carries me in over his shoulder and dumps

me into the coffin, at which point one of them says,

“I always said that queen would be late for her own

funeral.” Hahaha. And the hilarity ensued as I went

through the afterlife of a couple of religions…

There was nun drag involved—I’ve always loved

flat-shoe drag, nuns, and nurses! Because those

heels, they’re killing me! Haha.

The show ends with me on the Sally Jesse Raphael

Show—remember that? It was a big thing at the

time—where a right-wing homophobe pulls out a

gun and shoots me. I declare that it’s not me that’s

messed up, it’s society. I die, black out. Applause,

lights up, and I do a balloon-sitting/popping dance

to Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive.” It got a very

favorable review in TheaterWeek.

Come to think of it, the moral of the story is still

valid. And come to think of it a little more, there’s

lots of balloon popping in Karload of Klowns.

Some things never change.

I’m curious about how you came to embrace

both your feminine and masculine sides. You

mentioned that your feminine side particularly

flourished when you performed in Psykho III:

The Musical alongside actors like John Kelly

aka Dagmar Onassis, Larry Maxwell, Miss Loretta

Nicks, Mark Phredd, Tabboo!, and others.

Could you share more about this experience and

its impact on you?

Well, I wouldn’t directly credit Psykho III with that.

I played male characters in that piece and performed

as Mark Phredd, as mentioned in the

credits. It was my first performance, and that’s

when the show-business bug bit me. I was encouraged

by its creator, Mark Oates, to play the detective

and the psychiatrist. He believed I was a

natural on stage and encouraged me, despite my

total lack of self-confidence in that area. All it took

was getting my first laugh on stage, and I realized

my life path had taken an entirely new direction.

Before that, I was a successful macrobiotic restaurant

professional and thought that was my place in

the universe. There is a video version of Psykho III

that lives on, but originally, it was a stage production

we did at the Pyramid. It was through performing

and hanging out with those Pyramid performers

that I embraced my more feminine outward persona,

“Miss Hapi Phace.” Initially, before adopting

that name and persona, my drag name was “Charlene.”

I don’t remember why I chose that name at

the time. Later, I dropped the “Miss” from my

name, but funny enough, I don’t remember why I

insisted on it in the first place.

The Pyramid was a legendary venue in New

York City that offered a space for exploring

gender, the underground scene, and groundbreaking

artists. It was the place to be in the

1980s. How did you interact with others and

find ways to express yourself during that time?

Are there any particular moments or experiences

that stand out in your memory?

As I was saying, it was through my friendships with

some of the Pyramid performers that I began—at

first, go-go dancing, in drag, on the bar—and later,

performing. Much of our performance involved exploring

and experimenting with gender, though our

gender vocabulary was a bit different from today’s.

But language is a living organism, and I endorse

the expansion of gender-jargon. I wish I could summon

an encapsulated quotation by Bertrand Russell

or Ludwig Wittgenstein on language from the top

of my head to sum up this topic and impress you

with my knowledge of the philosophy of language

and semiotics, but I am drawing a blank. All I have

at the moment is a Tom Tom Club “Wordy Rappinghood”

earworm eating my brain. [Sings]

“What are words worth? What are words worth?

Words.” Remember that song? From 1981, and 44

years later, it’s still a good song!


THE ARTFUL MIND MARCH • 21


The Tom Tom Club’s music still lives on. What

was the Hapi and Hattie performance about?

Ah, Hattie! My show-business comedic partner,

Brian Butterick. We were a New Vaudeville duo

act of sorts. It took some time, but we developed a

comedic timing between us, and that’s the secret to

comedy—timing. Actually, it’s not a secret, and

there are other things comedy relies on, but we had

a certain chemistry together on stage. It’s something

inscrutable, really. I know that’s not an answer

an interviewer wants to hear, but it’s slightly

better than “You just had to be there.” Hattie passed

away a few years ago now, but it’s still hard for me

to delve that far into our show-business style. It

wasn’t something we analyzed and workshopped

to perfect. We just found our way to it organically.

We wrote a number of actual theater pieces, as well

as a few of our nightclub shows. For the club gigs,

we mostly just winged it. Besides being good at

playing off one another—something that took some

time to hone—we had a very supportive audience,

whom we would bring into the joke when we were

bombing on stage, and they loved it. It didn’t hurt

that our audience was drinking; in fact, that helped.

But for the theater pieces, those were a horse of a

different color. They were scripted. We sat in my

tiny bedsit room with me transcribing at the computer

as we filled in the dialogue together to plots

that I had outlined. Often, I played the villain and

Hattie, the hero.

We performed them in East Village theater spaces.

Sara Lee Entenmann was one of them. Hattie

played the eponymous hero. That was at The Club

at La MaMa. Meryl Vladimir, who was running

that space at the time, co-produced a few of our

other pieces, and Ellen Stewart, La MaMa herself,

came backstage after our show Lincoln and declared

that we were now “her babies,” which was

equivalent to a full endorsement and validation

from one of the pioneers of off-Broadway theater.

That was an incredible achievement for a couple of

kooky queens from Avenue A, and a pinnacle for

us—one of our proudest moments.

But we did a lot of stinkers too. Hahaha, after every

show, good or bad, we’d say, “That’s another show

under our show-biz belts.” Goddess, I miss Hattie.

Howl! Arts in NYC has been a crucial supporter

and promoter of the artist community. What

has their mission been, both historically and

currently? Additionally, how have you been involved

with the organization over the years, considering

their strong commitment to diversity?

I don’t specifically know what their mission is or

what their commitment to diversity is. I would

never presume to speak on their history or current

direction. That said, and as I affirmed before, I will

always say “Yes!” when they ask me to do something.

Primarily, my association with them is

through my friendship and admiration for their director,

Jane Friedman, and I think she would be the

person to ask about all that they do and encompass.

It’s her baby.

What I can say is that Howl! has had a few exhibitions

based on the Pyramid, which I have been

lucky enough to participate in, and Howl! is the repository

of the archives of two of my dearest and


closest creative partners and friends—Hattie Hathaway,

who I’ve already told you a bit about, and

Philly Abe, another amazing person, performer, and

artist that I did multiple shows with in the early

years. So, Howl! is very close to my heart and to

my art.

In 2020, you created papier-mâché panda bears

and made linocut prints for T-shirts and other

items using reused brown paper bags. I see the

panda project as a way to spread kindness and

promote healing during the pandemic. The papier-mâché

pandas genuinely capture my interest,

and I’m curious—why did you choose to

work with papier-mâché?

Papier-mâché has been a constant in my life, going

back to my childhood in Latin America. And then

one of my first boyfriends was a papier-mâché artist.

I only started doing papier-mâché myself as an

inexpensive way to make props and jewelry for my

shows. One of the first things I made was a giant

papier-mâché goose head for a show that I wrote

called The Hans Christian Andersen Story. I made

the jewelry and some props for Ethyl Eichelberger’s

production Hamlette, starring Black-Eyed

Susan as Hamlet. I made 1,001 papier-mâché potatoes

for a show by Lawrence Goldhuber that was

at La MaMa. I made props for shows I don’t remember

now. Sometimes, I make props for shows

that do not exist. I made a number of props for a

production of Don Quixote that never existed.

You have to understand that my process to bring a

creative idea into being requires manifesting it.

Prop making for nonexistent shows is a sort of ritual,

a physical prayer. By creating a physical object,

a totem, I am taking a step toward bringing an idea

into physical being. For practical purposes, papiermâché

is great because it is light, so it’s easy to

transport, made from materials found in the recycling

bin, and inexpensive and earth-friendly to

boot. Because it does require time to dry and I have

limited time, I developed Tapier-Mâché—a

method of using corrugated cardboard and duct

tape to make props quickly.

Please share your connection to Vincent van

Gogh? I know he’s on your top ten list of things

you love. (By the way, what don’t you love?)

Oh, there is plenty that I do not love. I try not to

hate; the strongest I go in that direction is to detest

or despise, haha. But Vincent—let’s get back to

him. I love Vincent van Gogh. He is just amazing.

His paintings are stunning, though his life was a

mess, and he was never successful in his lifetime.

Down the road from me, at the Harvard Art Museum,

there is the self-portrait he painted for Gauguin.

I visit it often. You can see the love—if I can

use that word here—that he felt for Gauguin. At

least, I see that. I can feel that love; I see it embodied

in the paint, in the brushstrokes. I have an affinity

for Vincent because his relationships with

other people could be caustic and problematic, even

with the people he relied on to keep him alive, the

ones he needed the most. A lot of people didn’t get

him—or his art—during his time, but Gauguin did.

And Vincent, given a chance to freely express himself,

was just too much for Gauguin, so he fled and

abandoned the portrait too. Now, it lives down the

road from me, and I visit it often, as if I’m visiting

Vincent himself. It’s all in my imagination, of

course, but for me—well, that is a reality. Not the

shared, everyday reality of Harvard Square, but an

alternative reality where imagination allows all

sorts of experiences.

How do the whimsical figures of folk art, such

as fairies, elves, gnomes, and trolls, spark your

imagination and inspire make-believe characters?

Do they offer deeper insights into who

you are, what you aspire to do, and the purpose

that drives you?

Remember when I said that I promised myself

never to lose my childhood imagination? Fairies,

elves, gnomes, trolls, and other folkloric creatures

and beings are the inhabitants of our collective

imagination. I loved to immerse myself in books,

legends, stories, and cartoons that had to do with

them. I started reading mythology when I was

around 10. I may have started with juvenile

abridged versions but quickly moved to the full

adult versions. I first read The Iliad and The Odyssey

completely through without fully understanding

them. I reread them until I did understand them. I

still read them—though mostly now I listen to them

as audiobooks while I work with my hands or even

read something else—and I’m still absorbing things

I missed or forgot before.

The American Repertory Theater in Harvard

Square is putting on a version of The Odyssey this

spring, which means someone is thinking of bringing

it to Broadway next season. The story is, what,

5,000 years old and still being told! It’s a good

story, but it is also a malleable story. That is the

magic of myth, of storytelling. Every age adds their

take on it, and by staying familiar with it through

reading and rereading—or alternatively hearing

and rehearing—it, one (namely me), can perform

comparative analysis of the various versions. What

I mean is that every generation tells the age-old

stories through a lens of their own time. For example,

the Alexander Pope or Samuel Butler versions

are very different from the 1960s version that I first

read by either Robert Fitzgerald or Richard Lattimore.

A generation later, Robert Fagles did a

nineties version. And after another generation, the

most recent translation by Emily Wilson is the first

version translated into English by a woman.

Folktales and legends inhabited by elves, fairies,

gnomes, and other mythical beings traditionally

had a dark side along with their beneficent aspects.

All Greek heroes, no matter their admirable qualities,

had at least one tragic flaw. Disney changed

all that. His sterilization and sanitizing of folklore,

legend, and myth—told for thousands or hundreds

of years in their full complexity—was, then and remains

today, a crime against world culture and the

human psyche. I despise and detest him.

You currently reside in Boston, but I know you

travel back and forth to visit friends and perform

in NYC. Have you considered which city

might be better for you to live in? Which one

offers more opportunities for self-expression?

New York City. No question. It’s the cultural capital

Puppets in process at Hapi’s papier‐mâché studio. Cambridge, MA, 2020s.

of the world. I’m lucky that I still have some

friends, some access, and some opportunity to be

there and express myself creatively in front of an

audience from time to time. When I first relocated

here, I had the seed of an idea of facilitating a

NYC-Boston conduit for art and performance.

Some idea seeds take longer than others to germinate.

Gail has been in a couple of group art shows,

exhibiting work she did when she went to school

here. And now Scooter has begun a relationship

with the Art Department at Lesley University.

When he came up to hang his show and give workshops

to the students, and on his off time, we visit

and have a vegan meal, and I am happy to say a

hand or two of cribbage. Cribbage—If-You-Know-

You-Know! Hahaha. He asked me to teach him. He

is a quick learner and a formidable opponent. There

was a formal artist’s reception, and a few of our

friends came up for that. I’m hoping that continues.

I had the thought that maybe the idea seed I had 15

years ago and had been lying dormant may finally

have found fertile ground to germinate and grow.

Scooter has another exhibit coming up this spring,

and we are all making plans, without making plans.

I find some things are best with minimal planning.

Jorge and I came up with the metaphor of “The

Sausage Grinder of Fate.” You mention all the conditions,

the people, the dates, the probabilities, the

aspirations, and the intentions that we would like

to happen. It all goes into the hopper, and it gets

ground up to come together as a sausage. You

won’t know exactly what it will taste like until all

the flavors have combined and merged with one

another.

I know you have a deep love for animals and nature.

Have you ever created a performance or

visual art project that reflects that passion?

Yes! I wrote a theater piece in the nineties called

Katz at Performance Space 122 on First Avenue. At

the time, while promoting it, I went out in cat drag.

I claimed to be trans species. This was decades before

the lunatic fringe started ranting on social

media and propaganda television about litter boxes

in classrooms. It was one of my biggest productions

and had the longest run. Richard Move, my friend

from Jackie60 and Dancenoise, choreographed it

for me. He’s done choreography for Baryshnikov.

Yes, there was singing and dancing, neither of

which I am good at, but that’s rarely stopped me,

and if done badly, correctly, it can get a good laugh.

I also cast others who could sing and dance for the

purists in the audience.

The story took place at Katz’s Deli on Houston

Street. Have you heard of it? It’s iconic. Morris

Katz, the deli owner, is also a landlord. It was a

fable about gentrification and “catibolism.” Morris,

the villain—portrayed by me—was renting out

apartments to young cats at cheap rents and then

sending his tenants down a chute into the sausage

grinder that supplied the hot dogs—or “hot cats,”

in this instance—which I sold at my deli. I employed

a Deus Ex Machina in the form of Space

Pussy, a cat from outer space, who comes down to

resolve everything with a big production number.

Have you received any formal training in art? I

remember you went to college for literature—

what led you to choose that path?

I’ve taken some art history courses and a few drawing

classes at university before I dropped out to immerse

myself in art and art-makers by moving to

NYC. That was easy to do in 1980s NYC when it

was literally and figuratively burnt-out and bankrupt.

It wasn’t just affordable; it was cheap. It was

far easier to establish yourself there, and creative

spaces and opportunities seemed to be far more accessible

then. Maybe that’s just because I was in

my early twenties? I don’t know, but it seems more

of a closed circuit today.

Oh, but you asked about my degree in literature.

Well, that was my second attempt at university,

when I was an adult and began doubting myself

because it seemed that everyone I knew, besides

myself, had a degree. I decided on literature because

I loved reading, especially the classics.



Puppets (L) and Pandas (R) in process at the papier‐mâché studio. Cambridge, MA, 2020.

I had a professor who said that I was stuck in the

19th century, and as a literature student, I owned

that, even though I’ve thoroughly read most of the

works of Virginia Woolf and James Joyce. That’s

about my cut-off point for literature—oh, wait, I

told a lie. I love and have read most all of the works

from The Golden Age of Detective Fiction: Agatha

Christie, Margery Allingham, Ngaio Marsh, John

Dixon Carr, to name a few.

Otherwise, I don’t read much contemporary literature,

as I continually return to my old favorites—

big stories, like Moby-Dick and Don Quixote de la

Mancha, for instance. But my all-time favorites,

and the basis of Western literature, are Homer’s The

Iliad and The Odyssey. In the past few years, I’ve

branched out to the canon of Non-Western classics,

like China’s Journey to the West and India’s Mahabharata.

I’m reading the graphic novel version

of Mahabharata because it is such a complicated

story, especially for an outsider. It’s mind-expanding,

learning other cultures’ languages and myths.

Doing so opens avenues of thought that are not possible

in our language, in our symbols, or in our cultural

constructs. The same can be said about

traveling.

I think the world and society would be better off if

more people traveled. Not to resorts, or on cruises,

or with luxurious vacation packages, or to Disney

World—Goddess forbid!—but simply spending

time living in another country, another culture. For

those who cannot afford or manage traveling, lit-


erature is a form of travel. For me, it allows for a

similar effect.

I enjoyed our conversations, especially when it

came to 11:11. I always thought I was the only

one who kept noticing it on the clock until I realized

I wasn’t alone. There’s even a perfume I

love called 11:11. I’m curious—how did you first

come to know 11:11? I know your fascination

with numerology runs deep! Everything connects,

doesn’t it?

First of all, you are not alone! There are lots and

lots of us. I didn’t know about the perfume. I became

aware of 11:11 in the seventies when I was

first introduced to Carl Jung’s Man and His Symbols.

I’m not sure if it was in that book, but he did

coin the term “synchronicity” to describe the phenomenon

of seemingly coincidental events, like noticing

the clock at 11:11, that have an unexplained

relationship. Did that make sense? It’s odd how

some concepts I’ve carried in my psyche for, what,

fifty years are now more difficult to put into words

rather than easier. Since the New Age movement,

the 11:11 synchronicity phenomenon has taken on

new meaning beyond Jung’s definition. I suppose

that is only natural, as mysticism, like mythology,

is always evolving to serve the needs of the human

psyche.

Some languages, like slang, are best understood

through immersion. I find the language you

mentioned—Esperanto—really interesting. Do

you think learning and speaking Esperanto

could improve the world today? What is your

connection to this language?

I agree that the best way to learn a language is by

immersion. And yes, it is also true for slang, as well

as jargon and argot, which are cousins of slang. I

love thinking about language and how it works,

how it signifies, and I do try to weave some of that

into my shows, primarily in the form of puns, but

also through the use of homophones. I enjoy studying

other languages, and I know a little bit of a

lot of languages, including American Sign Language,

which I studied for a number of years. But

without the immersive element, I am not fluent in

any except English—the American variety, that is.

I love English because it is a very absorbent and

changeable language. I am constantly looking up

the etymology of words. It’s fascinating to see how

words traveled through the world and reveal so

much history about the movement and trade between

peoples and nations. Words like “banjo” and

“okra” came into English from Africa through the

slave trade. Words like “indigo,” “pajamas,” and

“alcohol” came from trade routes with India, Persia,

and Arabia.

There is a saying that goes something like, “A language

is just the dialect of the nation with the

largest army.” It is no coincidence that one of the

first actions of an opposing and invading force is

to outlaw and destroy their victims’ language. It’s


Amar Chitra Katha graphic edition of Mahabharata from the artist's library. Hapi with Self‐Portrait Dedicated to Paul Gaughin (1888).

Harvard Art Museums, Cambridge, MA, 2020. Photo courtesy of Hapi Phace.

happened throughout history. It was used by the

Normans in 11th-century England. It was used in

this country in the 19th and 20th centuries to oppress

the indigenous population. More recently, in

the Russian occupation of parts of Ukraine.

Esperanto was born in the 19th century out of language

oppression imposed on parts of Poland during

the Russian occupation. Esperanto is what is

termed a constructed language. Some others predated

it, but their creators copyrighted them to control

and prevent changes. However, Doctor

Esperanto purposely did not copyright the language

he created, allowing it to grow and morph as people

learned and used it.

I say Doctor Esperanto because that was the alias

of L.L. Zamenhof. In Bialystok, Poland, where he

lived, it was a dangerous crime to use anything but

the oppressor's language. His original name for it

was La Lingvo Internacia, or “The International

Language.” It soon took on his pen name, Esperanto.

In the early 20th century, it was put to a vote to

adopt it as the official language of the United Nations.

It needed unanimous approval by the 10 voting

members of the Security Council. It received

nine. France voted against it, not wanting to cede

their dominance as the lingua franca. Of course,

they ended up losing that to English. It’s interesting

to note the threat that free communication between

peoples has toward fascist governments. Hitler imprisoned

and exterminated Esperantists, as did

Lenin. Esperantists were persecuted in this country

as well, especially during the Red Scare of the

1950s.

In the past few years, it has had a resurgence, primarily

because of the online language-learning program

Duolingo. It is a beautifully logical language

with a minimum of grammatical rules. One of the

most intriguing things about Esperanto culture is

the Pasporta Servo, a worldwide hospitality exchange

where Esperantists offer free home stays to

other speakers of Esperanto. It is a gift economy

platform that has been in existence since the 1960s,

which started as a printed directory and continues

today online. Did you know there is even an Esperanto

version of Wikipedia?

No, but I plan on looking into Esperanto, Hapi,

when this issue goes to press, then we can talk

more about it. So...how did you get the name

Hapi Phace?

Hapi is the Egyptian god of the annual inundation

of The Nile. I didn’t know that at the time I chose

the name nor that it was indeed the spelling. It was

one of those synchronistic things. And serves to remind

me that sometimes my future-self guides my

present-self in making decisions, creative or otherwise.

Anyway, that is the short answer. I’m not sure

we have enough time left to go into the long answer

and the most interesting part of the long version is

the short version.

Through the years, you’ve been introduced to

many famous artists in various venues. I understand

you hung out with Debbie Harry at one of

your favorite stomping grounds.

I did some performances with Debbie at the nightclub

Jackie60 in the Meatpacking District when

they were still packing meat there. We were also in

a couple of Jackie60 shows at La MaMa. We shared

a dressing room makeup mirror, but it wouldn’t be

accurate to say that we hung out. One of the most

fun things I ever did was sign language interpretation

while she sang “Maria.” She was in drag as a

priest, and I was a nun—in flats, of course. Debbie

Harry is a really nice person, easy and interesting

to talk to, but sometimes I had to pinch myself sitting

next to her at the makeup mirror. Blessed she!

If you could meet and get to know one person,

dead or alive, who would it be and why? My

guess is that it would be Vincent van Gogh.

Good guess, Harryet, good guess. He is in my top

five. In fact, he is my number one dead person I'd

like to meet. But since you said dead or alive, my

first person is Jorge Clar, followed by Scooter La-

Forge, Joel Handorff, and Gail Thacker. I am living

my dream in that way. I am so glad to have met

them and to continue building those connections. I

love creating with them and for them, and I get the

impression the feeling is mutual.

I would say you go with the flow. I would say—

may your locomotive train never lose its momentum,

and may your metronome never stop

swinging to the sound of your heartbeat. AND,

may you never stop filling your sausage... I hope

that doesn’t sound too strange.

Strange or not, I know and appreciate what you are

saying! Though no one else knows what we are

talking about concerning the locomotive and the

metronome, we did cover the sausage grinder. The

rest remains our own private Harryet-Hapi argot! I

love that, and I loved doing this interview with you!

Thank you.

Thank you, me too, Hapi.

F

Instagram: @hapi_phace

Bluesky: @hapi-phace.bsky.social

Copy edited by Jorge Clar.



Jennifer Pazienza

Cose che Contano, 152 cm D, Oil on canvas in my studio

@jenniferpazienza | www.jenniferpazienza | jennpazienza@gmail.com


LESLEE CARSEWELL

My artwork, be it photography, painting or collage

embraces a very simple notion: how best to

break up space to achieve more serendipity and

greater intuition on the page. Though simple in

theory, this is not so easy to achieve. I work to

make use of both positive and negative space to

create interest, lyricism, elegance, and ambiguity.

Each element informs the whole. This whole, with

luck, is filled with an air of intrigue.

Breaking up space to me has a direct correlation

to music. Rhythm, texture, points of emphasis and

silence all play their parts. Music that inspires me

includes solo piano work by Debussy, Ravel,

Mompou and of course, Schubert and Beethoven.

Working with limited and unadorned materials, I

enhance the initial compositions with color, subtle

but emphatic line work and texture. For me, painting

abstractly removes restraints. I find the simplicity

of line and subsequent forming of shapes quietly

liberating.

Lastly, I want my work to feel crafted, the artist’s

hand in every endeavor.

Leslee Carsewell -

Prints available, please inquire.

413-229-0155 / 413-854-5757

lcarsewellart@icloud.com

www.lcarsewellart.com

“But above all things was it a return to

Nature - that formula which seems to

suit so many and such diverse

movements: they would draw and

paint nothing but what they saw, they

would try and imagine things as they

really happened.”

-Oscar Wilde

MARY ANN YARMOSKY

My work is a collection of a variety of people, a

collection of experiences and expressions. It’s

about understanding their history, understanding

the power of their history, the power of their power,

the power of their vulnerability, the power of transformation,

and the power of purpose.

My works are abstract in nature, but aren’t we all

pieces put together by our life experiences? Who

is to say what is real when we look at a person.

Don’t we always project onto them some characteristic

we think we see, some fleeting feeling that

crosses their face, or some mannerism that indicates

their comfort or discomfort?

I work mainly with acrylic on canvas, paper or

wood and often add fabric, thread or other artifacts

that seem to belong. My process unfolds unintentionally

since my characters dictate what needs to

be said. I invite you to weave your own story into

my works. You can decide what is held in an expression,

a certain posture or the clothes they wear.

I hope you enjoy the adventure as much as I do.

Mary Ann Yarmosky -

marymaryannyarmosky.com

maryannyarmoskyart.shop

JOHN LIPKOWITZ

510 WARREN ST. GALLERY

February 28, 2025 marks the opening of John

Lipkowitz’ new exhibition of aluminum photographic

prints from his recent trip to Kenya.

On this, the seventh African safari he and his

wife Nina have experienced, their goal was elephants,

for Nina a visit to one of the David Sheldrick

Wildlife Trust facilities where young orphans

are reintroduced to the wild. For John, it was the

opportunity to visit a part of Tsavo East National

Park where there are still some surviving Super

Tuskers, elephants with one or both tusks weighing

at least 100 pounds. Perhaps as few as 50 are still

alive today, their numbers having been decimated

by natural deaths, occasional poaching and, if you

can believe it, by legal trophy hunters if these magnificent

animals wander across the unfenced border

into Tanzania.

Fortunately, the super tusker genes survive in

Tsavo and Amboselli parks and there is also a population

of emergents, younger bulls who just might

qualify as Super Tuskers given another ten or fifteen

years. During a three-week safari many other

animals were encountered, and some are represented

in this show as well.

Come see them all at 510 Warren St. Gallery.

The exhibit begins February 28, with an artist’s

reception on Saturday, March 1 from 3-6 PM.

The show will continue until March 30, 2025.

518-822–0510. Friday 12-6, Saturday 12-6, Sunday

12-5; 510warrenstgallery@gmail.com

ARTFULMIND@YAHOO.COM


JANE GENNARO

This month’s Mining My Life kicks off the hip

story; the adventure of my quest to get my hip bone

back after the hip-replacement surgery I opted for

ten years ago. Why NOW? What’s compelling me

to lay bare the ordeal of losing the head of my

femur?

Hm. The femur is the biggest, strongest bone in

my body. The femur is that stalwart and powerful

bone that’s easy to take for granted, until it breaks.

My femurs supported and stabilized me my whole

life; guaranteed my freedom to walk, run, hop,

jump and skip! Inspired me to stand proud and tall,

until arthritis reared its yellow-orange head, threatening

to make me feel powerless and angry, so I

vowed to reclaim what was mine!

Dig it! That’s it! My brain is connecting what

happened to my body ten years ago to the coup

happening in the larger body my body is part of

today as I eyeball a radical replacement surgery

2025 style; the installation of an old tool devoid of

human attributes. Crazy Man!

Jane Gennaro is an artist, writer, and performer

based in New York City and Claverack. Solo exhibitions

include the Fashion Institute of Technology,

World Monuments Fund Gallery, The Claverack

Free Library, and Time and Space Ltd.

Gennaro’s solo plays have been produced by

The American Place Theatre, Culture Project's Impact

Festival, and The Toyota Comedy Festival.

Her work has been reviewed in the New York

Times, her commentaries have aired on NPR’s All

Things Considered, and her illustrated column

"Mining My Life, Diaries of Jane Gennaro" is published

monthly in The Artful Mind magazine.

Jane Gennaro -

janegennaro.com

MY CIRCUS ACT: THIS IS A DIPTYCH ABOUT A BAKERY

MAKING A BIRTHDAY CAKE FOR THE POPE PLUS

CELEBRATING WITH HIM AND FEEDING HIM HIS PIECE.

SUSAN GILBERT

I am a visual storyteller. The subjects for my

work are culled from American culture and my own

life experiences. I don’t tend to do social commentary,

but choose iconic activities, events, behaviors

or customs that are distinctly American, some of

which are pride parades, baseball, 1950’s vacation

trailer parks and roller-skating competitions. Then

I create what I hope to be an amusing scenario.

One of the pieces I did was a depiction of my

father as a baseball player. He always wished to

play, so I had him hit the ball out of the park and

called it FENWAY FRED. Fred being his name.

Color, pattern and a cartoony figurative style are

three other elements I use to recreate the theme according

to my own observations and sensibilities.

Some of the artists who have influenced me are Red

Grooms, Chicago’s Hairy Who, Roger Brown,

Frida Kahlo, Florine Stettheimer and many outsider

artists. These, I believe, recreate the world around

them according to their own style and vision.

At present I work either on paper with gouache

or construct pieces using plywood, masonite and

roofing aluminum that hang on the wall. The constructions

are my primary focus due to my love of

three dimensionality inspired by my childhood

toys, dollhouses, mini gas stations, toy kitchens and

western forts. I have used Barbie and Ken as my

main characters and will be using the 1950s paper

doll, Betsy McCall in future works.

My work is my playtime. I have no grandiose

concepts or observations that I’m trying to impart

through my art. Just having a lot of fun telling my

tales based on my crazy culture and life.

Gilbert’s paintings will be on display at the

Knox Gallery in the Monterey Library May 2 –

June 7, 2025. All are welcome to join Susan at her

reception, May 2, 5:30 - 7pm.

Susan Gilbert -

781-444-1335

7 Art School Rd., PO Box 722, Monterey, MA

sgflexart1@gmail.com

DURING THE STORM, MID PANEL FROM SNOWSTORM,

ALFORD VILLAGE, TRIPTYCK

STEPHAN MARC KLEIN

I have been sketching and making art for all my

adult life, since my undergraduate education as an

architect in the late 1950’s. What interests me most

at present about creating art, besides the shear visceral

pleasure of making things, of putting pencil

or pen or brush or all of them to paper, and of manipulating

images on the computer, is the aesthetic

tension or energy generated in the metaphoric

spaces between the abstract and the representational,

between individual work and reproduction,

and between analog and digital processes. I enjoy

creating images that result from working back and

forth between the computer and the handmade.

My wife, artist Anna Oliver, and I have made

our home in the Berkshires for the past three years

and I am still entranced with its beauty. I think

much of my work is in part a kind of visual rhapsody

to the area. The idea for Snowstorm, Alford

Village, came from an interest I have had in exploring

the dimension of time in the plastic arts.

Also, I love snowy winters.

Stephan Marc Kleinstephanmarcklein.com

smk8378@gmail.com

Member 510 Warren Street Gallery, Hudson, NY

There are painters who transform the sun into

a yellow spot, but there are others who,

thanks to theirart and intelligence,

transform a yellow spot into the sun.”

— Pablo Picasso


JANE CRAKER

VISUAL ARTIST

Interview by Harryet Candee

Photographs courtesy of the artist

“Chairs, interviews and people make me uncomfortable.” —JC

Harryet Candee: I admire your paintings and

the ways you use color in your portraits, landscapes,

and still-lifes. I’m curious to know when

your journey as an artist began.

Jane Craker: My journey began as an artist trying

to find myself in a world I didn’t understand. “What

is going on?” “How do I find beauty and feel fulfilled

and connected?” “Why do I feel off, so disconnected?”

Some things I saw were cool and

beautiful, filling me with wonder such as looking

at ants carrying huge leaves; the sound of the wind

blowing, and the sun’s warmth. Nature! Unbelievable!

I wanted to get closer to feeling and experiencing

all these things at a deeper level, and art was

the answer.

When you mentioned that you experimented in

art during high school, could you elaborate on

what you meant and how it contributed to developing

your artistic identity?

High school opened me up to experimentation and

exploration, and my art teacher, at this point, was a

big contributor to my sense of freedom. He was inspiring.

I experimented with different paints and

collages. It was really fun! My paintings at this

point were dark and tortured, but I was expressing


my truth. It was interesting for these images to be

revealed to me. Throughout my life, this has been

my process. I’m guided by the painting and going

along for the ride as it keeps me energized and always

wanting me to experiment.

During your college years at Rhode Island

School of Design, you mentioned feeling boxedin.

What did you mean by that? How did it affect

your artistic temperament?

During college, art became more like work. I felt

lost and disconnected a lot of the time. Working

with the right teacher always made a huge difference.

Constructive criticism and encouragement are the

keys to growth. I found within my work, that I

couldn’t grow artistically. It was a hard time for me.

So, after college, I moved to New York City, joined

a music band with friends from RISD, and just

about stopped painting. The music was exciting,

and it made me feel alive again. The painting

dropped by the wayside.

Jane, have you studied in the Berkshires with

any art teachers, privately or in a group setting?

Have you ever taught art?

I taught a couple of shoe design classes to high

school students. I’ve been in the Berkshires for

about seven years and since I’ve been here I’ve

taken a cold wax class through the Guild of Berkshire

Artists with Carolyn Abrams and really enjoyed

it! I love learning new techniques, and it has

been the key to creating my recent portrait paintings.

Sometimes, when I’m feeling stuck or uninspired,

the best thing to do is take a class or get out

and do something different like go to a movie, see

a show, or do anything other than standing in front

of my easel trying to make something work!

You have mentioned that art should be a playful

exploration of thought and feeling. However,

doesn’t this perspective require a more serious

approach and a higher skill level when creating

a portrait, particularly a commissioned one?

And, would you elaborate, please, on the process

you use for creating a portrait?

Yes, I take a more calculated approach in my portrait

work to get the subject’s expression and feel

just right. Gridding the photo and then meticulously

doing the line work with delicate ease and intention

are key to creating the lines with feeling and presence.

When the line work is complete, I use cold

Portrait of Claire

Cold wax and oils on Arches oil paper, 22” x 30”

Portrait of Sally

Cold wax and oils on Arches oil paper, 22” x 30”

wax to add color. Adding color is a more intuitive,

light-handed approach that suggests the subject’s

feel. Portraits are an opportunity to connect to the

subject and convey the essence of their expression.

I love the portrait of a baby in blue; it looks like

you honed in on the child’s innocence through

the eyes, and the skin is very soft and baby-like.

Tell us more about this portrait, Jane. I also love

the little girl in golden yellow with a yellow

crown.

Portrait of a Child in Blue. I aimed to create a sense

of translucency in her skin, giving her an ethereal

presence that transcends the bounds of the page.

Portrait of Claire, wearing a crown and holding a

scepter. The medium is a 9B Lyra pencil, which is

a thick pencil, but you can get thin lines. I wanted

to step into her world of make-believe; in the photo,

she is really inhabiting this world, and I wanted to

capture her expression and the moment. There is a

warm and playful feel to the use of yellow, red, and

orange, and she looks back for a moment to let us

in. This is the most exciting thing about portrait

painting. Capturing the essence of a moment or an

individual. Both paintings use cold wax to create

translucency.

Is there a difference in your approach when

painting a portrait of an adult in contrast to a

portrait of a child? Do you handle the backgrounds

differently?

I handle the background differently in each portrait.

If it’s a commission, I will listen to what is requested.

Otherwise, I will take a direction that

works with the subject, regardless of whether it is

a child or adult portrait.

I understand that you are a member of the

Berkshire Guild. Can you share what this experience

has been like? How has it enriched

your perspective on artistic ideas you’ve integrated

into your work?

Over the years living in the Berkshires I started to

get very involved in the Guild of Berkshire Artists.

My husband and I live in a pretty remote area, so I

mostly hang out at home and paint without much

human connection, just my husband and my four

dogs, which is great, but I started to feel a little stircrazy—I

needed to get out and meet my tribe!

Berkshire Guild has been it for me. I have become

very involved on the shows committee and on the

board, participated in shows, and taken classes. I’m

really enjoying it, doing a lot of stuff. Sometimes,

I ask myself why I signed up for this responsibility,

but I ultimately enjoy it. Just like doing this interview!

I don’t like talking about myself, doing interviews,

or writing! But I challenge myself even

if I feel it’s something I don’t want to do. The

Guild has enriched my life in a lot of ways. It’s

helped me to open up. I can be a hermit, and that’s

not too healthy. I have been able to connect with a

lot of other artists and talk about their work. The

whole experience has given my life more vitality

and purpose.

Your partner in crime, so to speak, is also an artist.

What is it like working with your husband

and how would you describe the chemistry that

you share? In what ways over time have you

learned from this experience? Do you share studio

space?

Ya, so I’m the criminal, and he’s the victim! Just

kidding, I like to joke! He’s a watercolorist and

woodworker. He’s not as good as I am, but I try to

encourage him. I’m being bratty! I can be a bit

competitive, ha! We are both very supportive of

each other. I’ll often ask him for his opinion, and

he’s really got a good eye, so it’s very useful.



JANE CRAKER | Visual Artist

The Pond in Autumn

Oils on gessoed board, 9” x 12”

Sometimes I listen to him, and sometimes not. We

do really well as a team; we are in each other’s

pockets, working in the same space as both artists,

and it is harmonious. Our work is very different,

and seeing what we both come up with is fun.

By now you have realized that your artmaking

practice is based on principles you have brought

to the easel that have accumulated over the

years. If an emerging artist comes along, loves

one of your paintings, and asks, how do you

create this, and what can you share with me so

I can learn the secrets to making great art, what

would you tell them? (and not: go away) What

principles would you be willing to share with

this bright-eyed amorous person?

I’ll answer their questions and tell them about my

journey, the hits and misses. First, I suggest experimenting

with whatever they have around and start

doodling to see what they come up with.

The most important aspect of making art initially

is to stay open and not restrain your creativity; you

might be surprised.

Once you have an idea of what you are interested

in, taking a class is always good, or I would suggest

they join the Guild because there is so much support

for artists. I would tell them about my process

and how I do what I do, but I also encourage them


to find their voice and have fun.

The important principles I would tell them are: Try

not to judge what you’re doing. Have fun. Stay

open and teachable. Don’t compare yourself to

others. Stay connected to other artists.

The cold wax method is an intense and challenging

medium to work with but is also freeing and

gratifying in its process and nature. I would like

to know how the cold wax method works and

the ways in which you have connected working

with oils/acrylics to the cold wax method.

Cold wax is a very cool medium; I knew nothing

about it until taking a class. I love the approach. It’s

very intuitive, and you can get a lot of different textures,

patterns, and translucencies, very pliable and

workable. I still have a lot of experimenting to do

with cold wax to uncover its varied applications. I

took the cold wax class at a point in my painting

when I was blocked and uninspired using oils. I

took Carolyn Abrams’s class through the Guild

with other artists to introduce myself to the medium.

I enjoyed Carolyn as a teacher; she was fun to learn

with and always willing to help. Also, she does

beautiful cold wax paintings of her own. So again,

once I connect with others and try something different,

things will happen!

Do you like using cold wax enough to continue

working with it? What are some pros and cons

you have come across with this medium?

Yes, I do like it very much. The positive side is that

there’s so much you can do with it, which makes it

really fun. I am unsure what the cons are; I would

say, like any other medium, it can get overworked.

I notice in your painting of a autumn landscape

a similar translucent quality. (The Pond in Autumn)

Do you enjoy the challenge of working

with reflections and textures?

Honestly, I haven’t worked much with the translucent

nature of ponds; only recently have I started

experimenting, and yes, it is challenging. We have

a pond on our land, so I decided to see what I could

do. I used a few colors to keep it simple. I was

happy with the outcome. Even though initially, the

idea of creating the feel of trees reflected in a pond

was daunting, I did want the challenge.

Artists love the challenge to create and express

their intuitive feelings through what they see in

front of them or their imagination. Have you

done work that involves relying on your imagination?

I love to be challenged and try new things. That’s

true for me when drawing from a subject or my

The Mirror of Nature’s Soul

Oils on Arches oil paper, 22” x 30”

Chrysanthemum with Blue Chair

Acrylic on canvas, 34” x 38”

imagination, one feeds the other. If I’m working on

a landscape, I may be inspired by a specific object

in the landscape that leads me to recreate it imaginatively.

I like to see where paintings take me.

What impact does creating art have on your

life?

Art keeps me sane! I wouldn’t know what to do

without it. It fills me with wonder and keeps me

available to learn, experience, and connect with everything.

You have been involved with the Becket Art

Center. Please share your experiences.

I love Becket Arts Center; I live close to Middlefield

(a tiny town). I’ve gotten involved in many

ways, taking classes and showing work. Currently,

I’m taking an improv class with two professional

actors! Fantastic! Also, I am taking a writing workshop

with an accomplished teacher/writer. Both are

great classes and give me inspiration for my painting.

It’s another community of artists I’ve connected

to, and it’s integrated into my life with all

that is creative.

I really like the still life of a kitchen with blue

chairs and beautiful chrysanthemums on the

table. The style in this painting is characterized

by bold, black outlines around each object, very

distinctive. Tell us about this style and how it reflects

your artistic development.

Oh, thanks; I really like this one, too; it’s one of the

older ones, maybe three to four years old. There

was a series of paintings in this style with bold dark

lines, simple shapes, and bright colors. I was getting

back into painting at this point. I started with

these simple shapes, not trying to get the vantage

point correct or the technical aspects, mostly painting

from my gut, letting the objects find their place

in space through color and experimentation, and

doing thumbnail sketches before embarking on a

painting. These paintings were the beginning of my

road back into painting, and I have taken a lot of

turns since then.

Many artists have one particular style and stick to

it. Sometimes, it’s less confusing for people, but I

am not there yet, or that’s just not me. We’ll see!

Earlier in your life, you were a designer, yes?

Tell us about your line of T-shirts, the design aspects,

and how and why you later went into fine

art.

Before I got back to painting, which was pretty recent,

I worked in different fields in an artistic capacity,

sometimes for companies and sometimes

for myself. One of my companies was a t-shirt

company called Red Collar Creatives, referring to

a dog’s red collar. I made drawings that I then applied

to T-shirts. I started my own company selling

T-shirts on the streets of SoHo in NYC. I met store

owners who bought my shirts and made them for-

Urban Outfitters and Barney’s. It was a one-woman

operation and could not sustain the business, but it

was quite empowering to go from selling on the

street to being in some of the top stores in the city.

My shirts have also appeared in TV series and worn

by celebrities.

What did you like about working for those big

brand-name companies?

I designed sneakers for Reebok, Fila, and Candies;

I was working for big companies, but working as a

shoe designer, we were a pretty close-knit bunch.

We had our studio, so it didn’t feel like a huge company.

It was a very creative environment, and we

were given a wide berth as designers, so it wasn’t

stifling. I traveled to Taiwan where my shoes were

made. Some of those designs appeared in magazines.

At one point, I had the opportunity to meet

Derek Jeter. At the time, Fila was sponsoring him

and my boss brought him to my office where I was

personally introduced.



JANE CRAKER | Visual Artist

All My Hats, Acrylic on canvas, 30” x 36”

My Sweet Kurt, Cold wax and oils on Arches paper, 22” x 30”

And, it was crazy to see a friend and co-worker

making a size 26 sneaker for Shaquille O’Neal! It

was the size of a small boat.

You mentioned you were a member of a music

band. How did this fit into your life when you

think about it?

Ok! What a chunk of my life that was! I spent ten

years or so as an aspiring, successful singer in an

original rock band, hoping to get a record deal and

make a living out of it!

We, the band, got close, but it didn’t happen. I was

a starving artist; although I wasn’t starving, I

worked at CBGB as a bartender and lighting designer

back then. The owner also managed my

band and we got to open for the band Spinal Tap

and The Ramones.

When I left RISD, I got into music. I mentioned

this before, so I consider this just another part of

my journey. It was something I wanted to do since

I was young and is a part of what made me who I

am today.

The generation of people who spent time at

clubs like the Ritz, CBGB, and the Mudd Club

in Manhattan were vibrant and eager for artis-


tic stimulation. Can you describe what it was

like for you back then?

It was the coolest! From the tattoo conventions to

the hard-core matinees when people were thrown

over the bar —while I was bartending! All the wellknown

bands that made their fame there, CBGBs

was IT—the place, the hole in the wall that was

dark and dingy. Where bathroom walls were covered

in graffiti inscribed by band members, performers,

rockers and patrons. CB was my hangout.

My band played at other venues, too, but CB’s was

my home away from home, and sometimes, I slept

there when I had no place to go.

Have you been at all inspired to make a series

of paintings documenting this time period?

I would say no; some images, thoughts, feelings,

and expressions have come out in my paintings, but

that would be a very cool group of paintings to

focus on!

I am curious about the painting All My Hats.

Ok, I believe you can be accurate in any color. Animals

don’t see us the way we see ourselves. Each

person considers another in their way. There’s a lot

out there that we look at, but we don’t see. It has

been labeled and named, sometimes minimizing

our experience. But I can paint it from my imagination.

I started this painting thinking about my love of

hats and how people have an affinity for particular

objects to adorn themselves or have with them, letting

others get an idea of who they are or who they

think they are.

You can wear a hat and transport yourself to

another time and place. All the different hats in the

painting represent different personas. Also, the purple

skin lets the subject inhabit another world. It’s

like reinventing oneself.

If you could go back in time, when would that

be, and why? What imagery do you remember

never fading from your mind, and can you define

what you see? Describe its color, texture,

feel, and all else possible.

No, I wouldn’t go back. I am happiest now. Things

that don’t fade in my memory are recent memories—the

good times with family and friends. I recently

went on a sailing trip with my family to the

Bahamas. My brother was the captain; it was a 44-

foot catamaran with nine of us. I have thoughts of

pure bliss and excitement from that trip.

We All Live Together

Oils, 30” x 36”

From the first night, with the wind howling and trying

to get the anchor to stick so that we didn’t float

off the rocks, one of our friends decided to go on a

short snorkel dive while we were cleaning lobster,

and the sharks started congregating! I was laughing

and freaking out and excited all at once! Hoping

that our friend didn’t get eaten! Which he didn’t!

I loved the whole experience. All senses awake!

The sun, the crystal blue water, the joy of being

with loved ones and being alive! Literally! There

is a whole other part of my life that I won’t get into

now, but I’m lucky to be alive.

I love the painting My Sweet Kurt, the sketchy

watercolor piece—the one of the dark beige dog

wrapped in a purple leafy blanket. What significance

do animals hold for you, especially in a

world where people often take center stage? I

can’t even eat chicken anymore, and the thought

of baby lamb chops or bacon is out of the question.

How about you?

I have four dogs, and I love them; they’re all

adopted and have different personalities. They give

me great joy and are fond of me, too, or at least the

treats, walks, and cuddles.

Please don’t get me into the whole meat-eating discussion.

Ugh! I was vegan for a little while; at this

point, there are things I won’t eat, like baby animals.

I stay away from dairy as much as possible;

if I eat meat, it’s from small local farms. It’s super

weird because last night, I had a dream that I was

given a chicken, and immediately, I was in love

with her. I felt an immediate connection and love

for this chicken!

Why did you choose the opening quote: “Chairs,

interviews and people make me uncomfortable.”

and what does it mean?

There are lots of famous quotes I love and identify

with, but I wanted to keep it simple and not mindbending,

so this is it; with all my fears and difficulties

I’ve experienced throughout life, fear of

people, chairs, representing having to be in a specific

place, tied down, like a chair in school, I still

have this desire to sit in the same chair at the dinner

table or to always sit on an aisle seat in a plane, it

becomes an unhealthy habit, and to me symbolizes

the inability to change or adapt. Same with people,

I really enjoy being with people now, but sometimes

I still have that moment when the sparkle

wears off and I must escape. It’s nothing like it used

to be.

I find it hard to talk about myself for whatever reason.

I guess the best reason I can come up with is it

makes me feel vulnerable. So that is why I chose

this statement. The line “Chairs Make Me Uncomfortable”

came up in my acting class when I was

doing an improv. The setup was a parent-teacher

meeting, and I was the parent. We had to use the

last word of the other person’s sentence to start our

sentence, and, in my scene, the last word was chair;

I immediately sat down and said chairs make me

uncomfortable, so I still have that discomfort wired

into me. But I cannot fall into those old traps of

completely clamming up and being afraid of

others— and that’s good!

Thank you, Jane.

Jane Craker can be followed on Instagram

u



As a young artist, Monet's color

palette and subject matter always

inspired me. I researched his methods

and found them to be intriguing and

intricate. In this painting, I wanted to

recreate his style and colors using a

more abstract expression of it. I had no

subject matter in mind. So I gathered

my colors and began my quest to pay

homage to him in my own style of

painting. ‐Don Longo

Monet’s Hillside, 24” x 36” Acrylics on canvas

DON LONGO

www.donlongoart.com

Susan Flex Gilbert

Showing

May 2 ‐ June 7, 2025

Reception:

May 2, 5:30 ‐ 7PM

at the

KNOX GALLERY

Monterey Library

452 Main Rd., Monterey MA

Pope’s Birthday Two-piece, 3-D mixed media. Width total: 30” x 42” H.

sgflexart1@gmail.com | www.flexart.space | 781‐444‐1335


MICHAEL CHERTOCK, PIANO

CLOSE ENCOUNTERS

WITH MUSIC

“Rite of Spring’ - Rachmaninoff/ Stravinsky,

March 23, 4-6pm. Two monumental works, two

Russian ex-pats of the same aristocratic background

– and two divergent extremes. One a master

of nostalgia and a formidable pianist, follows in the

footsteps of Chopin. The other, a trailblazer, scandalizer

and collaborator of Picasso delights in

breaking old molds – though harking back to traditional

Russian folk material – and ushers in a new

age in music, conceptually aligned with Cubism.

Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring shocked tout-Paris and

sparked riots (scenes from the film Coco Chanel

will be shown). Rachmaninoff’s Sonata in G minor

for Cello and Piano was written after a course of

hypnotherapy for “composers block,” out of which

emerged a work of virtuosity and grandeur, with

his characteristic flourishes and a Russian Belle

Époque sensibility. “Terrifyingly difficult” for the

piano, it is a virtual piano concerto – not to downplay

the soulful melodic role of the cello.

Michael Chertock, piano; Yehuda Hanani, cello;

Enes Pektas, baritone

Join us for an Afterglow Reception on the Mahaiwe

stage following the concert! You are invited

to meet the artists and enjoy bites and beverages by

Authentic Eats by Oleg.

Close Encounters with Music-

800-843-0778 / 413-528-0100

Mahaiwe Performing Arts Center, 14 Castle St.,

Great Barrington, MA

“There are painters who transform

the sun into ayellow spot, but there are

others who, thanks to theirart and intelligence,

transform a yellow spot into the

sun.”

—Pablo Picasso

MISTY MARCH MORNING

OIL ON CANVAS,12” X 16”, 2023

PAMELA BERKELEY

RECOLLECTIONS 2025

Blue Mountain Gallery is presenting Pamela

Berkeley’s solo exhibition Recollections 2025 in

New York City this February 25 to – March 22.

Pamela Berkeley makes paintings from close

and direct observation of nature, and combining

still life objects, some arranged as magical altars,

landscape, portraiture of people and animals. She

doesn’t have backgrounds in her work. Her main

preoccupation in painting is the tension between

the still objects close to the picture plane and the

distant imagery that is farthest away. Foreground

and what is behind are of equal importance, painted

at the same time, side by side, locked into each

other. In fact, in a work of lace curtains, sometimes

only the holes are made of paint, not the threads.

As tightly drawn as her work is, there is an underlying

influence of her love of abstract painting,

all shown in the love of color, paint and brushwork.

She has painted so many things! Berkeley’s

works are done in oil on canvas or linen, and range

in size from 8 in. x 8 in. to 6 ft. by 8 ft. Besides

landscape and interiors of Maine, Massachusetts

and New York City. She has a series of portraits of

actor and artist friends arranged in odd environments.

“To be an artist you have to know who you are.

If you are an artist, you know it without a doubt.

The same is true for magicians.” - Pamela Berkeley

Pamela Berkeley has been a professional artist

for over 55 years, exhibiting with G.W. Einstein

gallery in SoHo for 20 years, and has been a

member of Blue Mountain Gallery for 10 years.

She has shown nationally in many venues, including

12 major museums. She lived and worked in

New York City and in Montville, Maine from 1975

to 2002, then moved to Sheffield, Massachusetts.

For more information about Pamela Berkeley’s

solo exhibition at Blue Mountain Gallery-

Blue Mountain Gallery - 547 West 27th Street,

Suite 200, New York, NY 10001; G.W. Einstein

Gallery; 646-486-4730,

bluemountaingallery@verizon.net

Or contact the artisttherealpamelaberkeley@gmail.com

BIRCH FAMILY

ACRYLIC ON A 24"X24" GALLERY STRETCHED CANVAS

FLUTTERING JEWELS

GOLDEN ACRYLIC METALLIC PAINT

SALLY TISKA RICE

BERKSHIRE ROLLING HILLS

Born and raised in the captivating Berkshires,

Sally Tiska Rice possesses artistic prowess that

breathes life into her canvases. As a versatile multimedia

artist, Sally seamlessly employs a tapestry

of techniques, working in acrylics, watercolors, oil

paints, pastels, collages containing botanicals and

mixed media elements. Her creative spirit draws

inspiration from the idyllic surroundings of her

rural hometown, where she resides with her husband

Mark and cherished pets.

Sally's artistic process is a dance of spontaneity

and intention. With each stroke of her brush, she

composes artwork that reflects her unique perspective.

Beyond her personal creations, Sally also welcomes

commissioned projects, turning heartfelt

visions into tangible realities. Whether it's capturing

the essence of individuals, beloved pets, cherished

homes, or sacred churches, she pours her soul

into each personalized masterpiece.

Sally's talent has garnered recognition both nationally

and internationally. Her career includes a

remarkable 25-year tenure at Crane Co., where she

lent her hand-painted finesse to crafting exquisite

stationery. Sally is a member of the Clock Tower

Artists of Pittsfield, Massachusetts, the Guild of

Berkshire Artists, the Berkshire Art Association,

and the Becket Arts Center. Follow on YouTube,

Facebook, and Instagram.

Sally’s work is on the gallery walls of the Clock

Tower, Open Monday-Friday 9:00-5:00 pm for

self-guided tours.

SallyTiskaRice@gmail.com

www.sallytiskarice.com

https://www.facebook.com/artistsallytiskarice

Fine Art Prints (Pixels), Twitter, LinkedIn

Instagram, YouTube, TikTok


PATAGONIA

ACRYLIC, LATEX, GRAPHITE ON CRESCENT BOARD, 40”X30”

BETWEEN THE LINES

2023, ACRYLIC ON CANVAS, 36.5” X31.5”

JAYE ALISON

MOSCARIELLO

Jaye Alison Moscariello harnesses water-based

mediums like acrylic and watercolor, influenced by

a creative upbringing and artistic journey. Through

abstraction and intuitive color selection, she captures

the interplay between forms, with lines that

articulate deep-seated emotions. Her art resonates

with joy and upliftment, transforming personal and

worldly complexities into visual harmony.

The artist is passionate about creating art, painting

on flat, smooth surfaces, and using materials that

are environmentally friendly.

Moscariello’s work has been exhibited both nationally

and internationally, and has appeared in

print, film, television, the web and Off Off Broadway.

Transforming personal and worldly complexities

into visual harmony. In celebration of her new studio,

enjoy 10% off large paintings and 30% off

small paintings.

Abstract Memories, Knox Gallery, January 31 -

March 8, 2025. 452 Main st, Monterey, MA.

Jaye Alison Moscariello -

310-970-4517

Studio visits by appointment only:

Pond Shed (behind the Buggy Whip Factory),

208 Norfolk Road, Southfield, Massachusetts

jayealison.com

jaye.alison.art@gmail.com

THESE THREE BRACELETS ARE ALL TOURMALINE-

GREEN, STEELY BLUE, AND HOT PINK.

MATERIAL- 18KT GOLD/ARGENTIUM SILVER

COMPLETELY HAND FORGED

JOANE CORNELL

FINE JEWELRY, WILDLY WROUGHT

I am a hand-forging jeweler, a metal alchemist, a

conjurer of gold and silver—shaping raw elements

into exquisite, wearable art. With years spent hammering,

sculpting, and refining fine artisan jewelry

in the Hudson Valley and the Berkshires, my hands

have memorized the weight of precious metals, the

way light bends through a perfect gemstone, the

raw pulse of design in motion.

I work in gold and silver, from 24kt casting grain

to the finest alloys, pulling elegance from fire and

pressure, forging heirlooms with purpose and precision.

Luxury should not come at the cost of conscience.

I work with ethically sourced gemstones,

cut at the origin to minimize environmental impact.

My metals are nearly 100% recycled or reclaimed,

ensuring that every design leaves behind beauty,

not waste. I honor the Kimberley Process, using

only conflict-free diamonds, whether they are modern

brilliants or antique rose cuts with stories of

their own.

“As a South American and half Moroccan,

jewelry has always been a part of my everyday

life and wardrobe. Joane Cornell’s craftsmanship

is brilliant, and her designs are unique, beautiful,

elegant, and versatile. I wear all of my Joane’s

pieces on every occasion, and I receive no

shortage of compliments wherever I go.”

—Anita Sibony de Adelsberg

Jewelry is an intimate form of storytelling, and

my custom pieces are written in metal and stone. I

collaborate closely with my clients, transforming

whispers of ideas into bespoke designs that don’t

just meet expectations—they eclipse them. My

work is for those who crave more than ornamentation—for

those who understand that true beauty

carries both weight and wildness.

Joane Cornell Fine Jewelry -

joanecornellfinejewelry@gmail.com

BIRCH WALL, OIL ON BOARD, 5”X7”

GHETTA HIRSCH

Here is a small painting I do not show too often.

it has the simplicity I am looking for when I describe

my work as Abstract Realism. Yet it is

clearly a bit of our Berkshires Landscape as birches

often fill our views with gentle whites. I love how

in a snowy forest floor you can raise your eyes and

still find some of the white color on the birch tree.

Since they are often mixed with bare denuded oak

trunks or protective evergreens, they provide a restful

view of the scene.

We should not say that they are completely white

as the birches’ trunks have all the neutral colors in

the beige and grey as well. They are my favorite

trees and yet they are many lying on the forest floor

as they break under the weight of the ice or snow.

To make matter worse they are trying to survive

wood-boring insect larvae in our region. There is

also this new bug from Asia called “spotted lanternfly”

that we should not hesitate to kill as it attacks

other trees as well.

However birches like our snow as they prefer a

wet soil, so we are lucky to have them around our

hills and mountains. This painting tries to give you

a sense of the variety in the white of their trunks.

Enjoy!

My work is still exhibited in North Adams, MA at

Gallery North, 9 Eagle Street, or you can visit my

studio in Williamstown, MA.

Call or text 413-597-1716.

Website collection:

ghetta-hirsch.squarespace.com

@ghettahirschpaintings

Human subtlety…will never devise an

invention more beautiful, more simple,

or more direct than does nature because,

in her inventions, nothing is lacking,

and nothing is superfluous.

—Leonardo da Vinci


COLLAGE, 2022

BRUCE LAIRD

I am an abstract artist whose two- and three-dimensional

works in mixed media reveal a fascination

with geometry, color and juxtapositions. For

me it is all about the work which provides surprising

results, both playful and thought provoking.

From BCC to UMASS and later to Vermont College

to earn my MFA Degree. I have taken many

workshops through Art New England, at Bennington

College, Hamilton College and an experimental

workshop on cyanotypes recently at MCLA. Two

international workshops in France and Italy also.I

am pleased to have a studio space with an exciting

group of artists at the Clocktower Building in Pittsfield.

Bruce Laird-

Studio #307, Clock Tower Business Center,

75 South Church Street, Pittsfield, MA

Instagram: @ecurbart

EVE’S PARTY DRESS, ACRYLIC ON CANVAS, 10” X 10”

RUBY AVER

STREET ZEN

Growing up on the Southside of Chicago in the

60s was a history rich and troubled time. As a youth,

playing in the streets demanded grit.

Teaching Tai chi for the last 30 years requires a

Zen state of mind. My paintings come from this

quiet place that exhibit the rich grit of my youth .

Movement, shape and color dominate, spontaneously

combining raw as well as delicate impulses.

My recent series, Strike a Pose, is inspired by the

dance genre Voguing. Colorful feminine images

with amplified characters grace the canvas with

their mystery.

Ruby Aver -

Housatonic Studio open by appointment:

413-854-7007 / rdaver2@gmail.com

Instagram: rdaver2

SELF PORTRAIT AND BUDDHA, OIL ON LINEN. 1985

RICHARD TALBERT

My "Red Period" is a significant phase in my artistic

career from 1984 to 1987. During this time,

my paintings were dominated by a predominantly

red color palette, which symbolized my emotional

state and creative expression. My art studios were

in Hoboken, NJ, 301 Adams Street Loft # 1-A, and

Vence, France, at 22 Blvd. De Lattre. This period

was marked by melancholy and introspection, as

evident in my somber and contemplative works

My Red Period is considered a pivotal moment

in my development as an artist, showcasing the innovative

use of color and exploring themes related

to poverty, suffering, and social inequality in Hoboken,

New Jersey from 1980 through 1984 and

extreme wealth and privilege in Vence, France,

from 1984 through 1985.

Richard Talbert-

413-347-3888 / richardtalbertdesign.com

FRONT STREET GALLERY

Kate Knapp, Red Barn Sunny Day, Oil on canvas, 24” x 30”

Painting classes on Monday and Wednesday Mornings 10-1pm

at the studio in Housatonic and Thursday mornings 10am - 1pm out in the field.

Also available for private critiques. Open to all. Please come paint with us!

Gallery hours: Open by chance and by appointment anytime

413. 274. 6607 (gallery) 413. 429. 7141 (cell)

413. 528. 9546 (home) www.kateknappartist.com

Front Street, Housatonic, MA

“I don’t need your acceptance, I don’t need your tolerance,

I need your respect for my humanity.” -Billy Porter

William Ellis Porter II is an Emmy-winning actor, singer,

dancer, writer, producer, director, and LGBTQ+ icon

artist, illustrator, writer, poet, peace lover

elizabeth cassidy studio works

elizabethcassidystudioworks.com


RICHARD NELSON

THE ALPHABET SERIES FROM A TO Z: “J”

&

Ai

ART

Digital Art

nojrevned@hotmail.com

Rick Nelson on FB


PHOTO: RICHARD NELSON

FIGURATIVE PAINTINGS IN THREE

MATT BERNSON

Matt Bernson is a figurative artist who intuitively

uses bold lines and bright color to expressively

portray the human figure in playful and

provocative ways. Matt graduated from MassArt

with a BFA in Animation & Painting and has

worked as a caricaturist and tattoo artist. His style

could be described as a flavor of illustrative expressionism:

a combination of strong lines and

graphic composition paired with vivid color and

loose brush strokes to hint at a narrative for the

viewer to feel through. Matt Bernson brings attention

to the human body with unique methodologies

to help the viewer find new levels of

appreciation for the figure.

Matt Bernson-

ArtByMattBernson.com /

matthew.bernson@gmail.com

Instagram @MattBernson.Art


ASSEMBLAGE ART

JANET COOPER

THE ART OF FIGURING OUT

WHAT KIND OF ARTIST I AM

Fabrics, anatomy, stitches, colors and bricologue

are words, imbued with intense emotionality for

me, a maker, collector and lover of objects and

places.

My first love was clay, so basic, earthy and obsessively

compelling, I adored making pottery

shapes and objects, resembling torsos. A period

of fascination with vintage tin cans, bottle caps

and junky metal discards followed. Metal was

sheared, punched, riveted and assembled into figurative

shapes. I began to use fabrics with these

works and eventually abandoned metal for hand

stitching doll sculptures, totems and collages, all

with second hand or recycled fabrics.

Lately I have introduced paint and waxes into

my work. I also am using animal bones, those armatures

of mammal form. I am recycling old

works into the new, a kind of synthesis of who I

have been with whom I am now.

I am also returning to jewelry or ornament making.

as well as fashioning a collection of garden

and street wear art aprons.

Janet Cooper -

janetcoop@gmail.com

www.janetcooperdesigns.com

I saw the angel and carved

until I set him free.

—Michelangelo

“WAITING ON THAT SHIFT IN THE PARADIGM.”

FB POST, FEB. 7, 3:24 PM. RICK NELSON

RICHARD NELSON

(RICK NELSON ON FB) MY MUSIC

Winter is difficult for me, and I'm reaching a

point where it becomes difficult for me just to fix

myself a bite to eat or basic household cleaning.

The artistic epiphany is harder to find in myself, if

that makes sense. If the art feels forced, it frustrates

me. It's been a problem.

I am currently more involved in music. I am no

musician; I have no real sense of rhythm or any sort

of natural ability. So now I am in the same situation

as I was at the beginning of this whole thing.

Teaching myself how to play the guitar is something

I've been attempting since I was twelve, but

I never put the time in, I didn't have the discipline.

As I got older, entering the real world I tried harder,

experimenting with four track recording and such,

but, being the owner and night shift cook at a diner

cut into my creative life, eventually squashing it

out altogether.

So, now I am retired and have nothing to do,

lots of time to practice and relearn. Obviously,

there is a marked improvement to my skill set.

Where it leads, one can only speculate. I do have

about 270 improvised compositions on my iPad via

GarageBand. Hopefully a cd in the future.

I guess I should move into this century, if I was

twenty years younger and healthier.....

Richard Nelson -

nojrevned@hotmail.com

ARTFULMIND@YAHOO.COM

DRAFTING AND

MECHANICAL

DRAWING TOOL

Some of the ways

to use

DRAWALL

DRAWALL … ‘Invention as art’ … a new drawing medium, a tool, new age mechanical drawing, pencil drawing

on a vertical surface, clean drawing surfaces, large format, reviving the art of the ‘draftsman’ … The ‘built world’

has always relied on drawings by draftsmen, I’d like to reclaim that art form to create a new ... art genre. If I’ve

been using Drawall to make art, I’m sure other talented types can also use Drawall.

I’m offering Drawall to the ‘art world’ as a new tool to explore, to hopefully resurrect drafting and mechanical

drawing to a new ‘art genre’. It’s not everyday a new analogue tool is introduced to the art world.

—Leonardo Sideri

For more information on this invention for drawing please go to leonardosideri.com


44 • MARCH THE ARTFUL MIND


©VINTAGE DELEVINGNE

SILVER PRINTS FOR IN THESE TIMES …

LIONEL DELEVINGNE

Lionel Delevingne is a French born photographer

and author whose work has taken him all over the

world for publications such as the New York

Times, Mother Jones, Figaro magazine among

many others. His work has been collected and exhibited

widely in Europe and the US.

His two most recent books “To The Village

Square, from Montague to Fukushima 1975 to

2014” and “X-ING …My Adventures at the Carwash

2022” are emblematic of his commitment to

environmental concerns as well as the uncovering

the absurdity of today’s reality.

Lionel Delevingne-

917-496-1863

lioneldelevingne@gmail.com

https://www.lioneldelevingne.com

https://www.instagram.com/Lioneldelevingne

KATE KNAPP, A VIEW OF THE PATIO,

OIL ON CANVAS, 30” X 40”

FRONT ST. GALLERY

Pastels, oils, acrylics and watercolors, abstract

and representational, landscapes, still lifes and portraits,

a unique variety of painting technique and

styles you will be transported to another world and

see things in a way you never have before join us

and experience something different.

Painting classes continue on Monday and Wednesday

mornings 10-1:30pm at the studio and

Thursday mornings out in the field. These classes

are open to all...come to one or come again if it

works for you. All levels and materials welcome.

Private critiques available. Classes at Front Street

are for those wishing to learn, those who just want

to be involved in the pure enjoyment of art, and/or

those who have some experience under their belt.

Kate Knapp -

413-528-9546 at home or 413-429-7141 (cell)

Front Street, Housatonic, MA. Gallery open by

appointment or chance anytime.

www.kateknappartist.com

Matt Bernson

RAILROAD STREET ALLEY, GT BARRINGTON, WC

MARGUERITE BRIDE

BERKSHIRES IN WATERCOLOR

If local scenes in watercolor interest you, I have

a number of originals available. I recently pulled

in most of my paintings from galleries. In the near

future (sometime in April) I will hold my final

Berkshires art sale in my home. Please check my

website or Facebook page for more information.

In May, I will be moving from the Berkshires

to another beautiful New England area….the

Lakes Region of New Hampshire. After 30 years

in paradise, another adventure is calling me. Lets

face it, its just not cold enough for me here in the

Berkshires.

Soon I have been “disassembling” my studio

and I have a lot of equipment, studio furniture,

art materials/supplies, tables, flat files, print storage

shelves, chairs, and racks looking for new

homes. Please check my website, my watercolor

Facebook page, or text/email me directly for

more details about dates/times of scheduled sales

events. I can also set up an appointment for you

to visit privately.

Moving is great fun, isn’t it!

Marguerite Bride –

413-841-1659; margebride-paintings.com

margebride@aol.com;

Facebook: Marguerite Bride Watercolors.

Instagram: margebride

PROMOTE YOUR ART

THE ARTFUL MIND

413. 645. 4114

You can't stay in your corner of the forest

waiting for others to come to you. You have to

go to them sometimes.

—Pooh, "Pooh's Little Instruction Book"

ArtByMattBernson.com / matthew.bernson@gmail.com / Instagram@MattBernson.Art


Something For Over The Couch

PART 25

“Uncle Firp”

Uncle Firp! It just so happened that I also had an

Uncle Firp. He was not an actual relative of mine

but he was a person everyone called Uncle Firp. It

was an odd name, and he was an odd man. He was

one of my father’s insurance customers, and so I had

been to his house more than once. Actually, it was

not his house, but just a small room in an apartment

house in the Italian section.

He was always wearing an old brown suit, as if he

had been born in a brown suit. Like my grandfather

he smelled very strongly of stogie smoke.

Driving down Parkway Boulevard we went by a

large beautiful house Firp owned, a house with a

pool and its own tennis court. My father was very

aggravated by the house, its tennis court, and the relationship

between Firp and his son. He told me

about their pathetic family, as I sat in the back seat

of the car absentmindedly eating bread and olives

from one of those white paper deli containers. I was

only twelve at the time, and I remember wondering,

“Do people really treat members of their own families

in such terrible ways, or is it like a folktale in

which people do impossibly outrageous things but

nobody is supposed to really believe it. Could it be

possible that there are sons who beat their fathers,

threaten them, and drive them out of the house?”

When I was twelve I truly believed that people were

essentially good, and even if some person got into a

situation where he killed another person, it would

probably turn out in the end to have been completely

justified and understandable, and even a really good

thing, if only you knew all the attendant circumstances.

That the son beat the father, my Dad explained, was

because the father had beaten the boy's mother, and

later the mother, unfortunately, died. The mother

died of some form of cancer, and not of her beatings,

but it all happened at the same time, and so the son

jumbled it all up in his head.

Old Firp was a very religious man, and when his

wife became sick he began going to mass every day,

but even though he went to mass every day, still his

wife got no better. Then old Firp began going to his

church twice a day in the morning and again in the

evening, sitting alone in a pew way in the back in

the shadows. Because of the depth of the old man’s

faith, I should say depth and breadth, and the childlike

completeness of his faith, he was certain that his

wife, the wife he was known to beat, would certainly

get better.

When Firp was told his wife was getting worse he

came to the conclusion that the doctors were lying

to him. Why the doctors would lie to him he didn’t

know, but it had to be so. His confidence in God, and

his suspicion that the doctors were deceiving him

overpowered his reason to such an extent that he

went to his lawyer to consult about the advisability

of a lawsuit against the hospital and its doctors.

His lawyer refused to take up the case saying that,

God forbid, it might get into the papers and then he

would become an object of ridicule.

The lawyer tried to be gentle and understanding with

old Firp, seeing as how he was in such despair over

his wife’s condition. The day Firp went to the lawyer

with his request to sue the hospital was the afternoon

of the very day when a doctor, taking him into a

small conference room with comfortable chairs and

a picture of lambs in a meadow on the wall, told him

that his dear wife had only six more months to live.

Old Firp cursed his lawyer and vowed to never seek

his counsel ever again, and so he went to other lawyers

and in his mind he saw images of a great success

in court, and of new laws enacted to protect

devout people from the treachery of the medical profession.

He imagined in his fevered state, how his

old lawyer would read about it and regret the day he

refused the case. But in the real world old Firp was

treated to silence and disbelief.

Firp’s struggle over his wife’s condition was not

without a personal secret despair. It was not that he

felt to blame for what was happening, even though

he was. It was because he harbored guilt in his heart

about his obvious hypocrisy.

My father explained to me that Firp lived entirely

on the small social security check he received in the

mail each month. This small amount was almost sufficient

to pay his monthly expenses, so long as there

was not any unexpected drain on his limited resources.

Once he had to delay his monthly premium

payment to my father for his life insurance policy,

and for several weeks was in a state of despair lest

the insurance be canceled for non payment. I remember

at this point in my Dad’s narration of the

story of Firp, that we were stopped at a light, and he

turned to me, sitting in the back seat, and said emphatically,

“I would have had to make the payment

for him out of my own pocket.” He said this with

such aggravation that I never forgot it, and wondered

to myself why old Firp was able to command such

consideration.

Old Firp’s economies were unable to sustain a new

recurring weekly expense; he had started buying

masses to be said for his wife’s recovery. This

weekly expense exhausted his limited spending

money so that during this time he was often seen eating

in the soup kitchen down on Lafayette Street.

Even though he suffered what he felt was the shameful

indignity of eating in the soup kitchen, nevertheless

he continued to dine there out of the necessity

of giving small amounts to the church each day for

the sake of Mabel, (his wife, by the way, was named

Mabel.)

All throughout this painful time that Firp was eating

his dinner in the soup kitchen, not for one instant

was he forgetful of this simple fact, he had over a

hundred thousand dollars in cash and gold coins in

a safe deposit box in the Gold Dome Bank on Genesee

Street, not to mention the deed for his own wonderful

house that his son was living in.

Everyone assumed that old Firp was rich, and you

could not have found a single person in the Italian

section, who did not assume that he was rich. They

actually assumed that he was much richer than he

really was, but the poor old man could not enjoy his

wealth in his old age because he lived in fear of the

anger and violence of his son. If the son had known

about the money he would surely have abused the

old man to such a degree that Uncle Firp’s life would

have been unendurable.

But now he had to face the fact that he was unwilling

to part with his fortune to save his wife’s life.

Obviously the transaction with the church could be

done in secret. The priest he dealt with in his contributions

could be trusted not to mention it to

anyone and everything would obviously be done

anonymously. But how much should he give, that

was the question that tormented him. Was it to be

just fifty thousand, or was he going to have to give

his entire hundred thousand dollars. Somehow fifty

thousand seemed to be the aesthetically correct

amount to give. He could even imagine a conversation

between God and Saint Jude, the saint of

hopeless cases. In his imagination he could see Saint

Jude, with an earnest and serious look in his eyes,

saying, “Fifty thousand Lord, just imagine, and he

is eating his meals in a soup kitchen.” But the Lord

is not moved and replies, “But Jude, there is another

fifty thousand that the old man could give Me, and

you know very well that I do not concern myself

with the totaling up of accounts, but it’s just that if

old Firp holds out half of his fortune, doesn't it imply

that he is somehow not as devout as he could actually

be. He is clearly not like Job, and does not aspire

to be anything like Job. He could, for example,

give everything in the safe deposit box, sell his property,

go to the loan sharks and borrow another hundred

thousand. On top of that, he could also give the

entire amount of his next social security check, and

then he might look and see if there is any loose

change under his couch cushions!”

With such absurd imaginings old Firp reassured

himself that the fifty thousand would be more than

an acceptable amount to purchase the continuance

of his wife’s earthly existence. Firp simply could not

imagine that God would be such a merciless, greedy

cut throat.

So in the end old Firp decided on fifty thousand as

the amount he was going to pay for prayers and

masses to be said for his wife’s recovery. The priest

who accepted the bank check made out to the parish

tried in vain to impress upon the old man that the

payment was specifically to assure the repose of

Mabel’s soul after death, and was not going to purchase

the restoration of her health, but old Firp

turned a blind eye, and a deaf ear to the priest, knowing

in his heart that he was not actually dealing with

the church, the parrish, or even the priest who said

the masses, but he was in negotiations with God

himself. Arming himself with these confidences, he

looked forward to the next six fateful months with

optimistic expectations.

But the old woman died right on schedule six

months later. What happened to Old Firp after his

wife died I can't say because I do not know. Perhaps

the blow turned him into an atheist, but more likely

he became even more devout.

There are those who insist that after Mable’s death

he went to the priest and insisted on a refund, but I

don’t believe that story.

—RICHARD BRITELL, FEBRUARY, 2025

PARTS, 1 THROUGH 24

HTTPS://SPAZIFINEART.COM/SHORT-STORIES/



BRUCE PANOCK

Abstract Landscape

Panockphotography.com

bruce@panockphotography.com

917-287-8589 | Instagram @brucepanock

Deborah H Carter

Korenman.com

@shondaevette_

Represented by the WIT Gallery

Clock Tower Artists

The Artful Mind North Street March Artists

Transform your PDFs into Flipbooks and boost your revenue!

Delete template?

Save as template ?