Imagine all the places
Annie Sullivan's new view on old fields
by Leon Nigrosh
HOME FIELD: LANDSCAPE PAINTINGS BY ANNIE SULLIVAN at the ARTSWorcester
Gallery at Quinsigamond Community College, Administration Building, 670 West
Boylston Street, through August 29.
Mention the words "baseball game" and everyone immediately imagines the crack
of a bat, roaring crowds, and colorful action on the field. Everyone, that is,
except Annie Sullivan. Her ballfield paintings are strangely devoid of the
thrill of the game. It is as if all the fans and players were mysteriously
whisked away mid-game. The field in Rutland Ballfield II is neatly
tended, advertisements dot the outfield wall, home plate has been carefully
dusted, but everything is still. Sullivan imparts a dreamlike quality to this
scene and, at the same time, creates an air of expectancy -- something is just
about to happen.
This same feeling is entwined throughout 27 of Sullivan's paintings on
display
at Quinsigamond Community College. Signs of humanity in the form of tire tracks
appear in Landfill, but there are no workers in sight. Fading yellow
lines and the occasional oil stain mark the all-too-empty spaces in Parking
Lot. Even the Piper Cub in the middle of her tiny Airport seems to
be eagerly awaiting takeoff. Sullivan enhances this feeling of reverie and
anticipation by delicately softening the edges of the subjects in her
paintings. By using feathered brushstrokes, she intentionally makes each
painting appear to be slightly out of focus.
Her paintings are also imbued with an air of immutability, as though we were
witnessing a specific moment frozen in time. But we are left to wonder just
what moment? The skies are mostly bereft of the traditional time indicators --
shaded clouds or the particular placement of the sun. The lack of shadows in
virtually every picture further prevents us from knowing the time of day being
depicted. One notable exception to this phenomenon is Cashman Park,
Newburyport where the long, low shadow cast by a light pole becomes the
center of attention. Otherwise, each picture is in a state of suspended
animation, including the waters of her Plum Island River series.
Although many of Sullivan's paintings contain evidence of the interaction
between man and nature, several of her landscapes show surroundings as yet
untrammeled by humans. She approaches her work in a manner very similar to
Worcester's turn-of-the-century landscape painter Joseph Greenwood. A
corporator of the Worcester Art Museum, he was admired chiefly for the amazing
impression of depth he brought to his canvases with a minimum of artifice.
Greenwood, a sometimes teacher at WAM's art school and pre-eminent plein-air
artist of the time, traveled about Worcester County, making oil sketches on
cigar-box lids that he would later translate onto larger canvases in his
studio.
Although Sullivan uses a camera instead of a cigar box for her preliminary
studies, she also uses conventional techniques to create unconventional images.
Through deft placement of color, rather than employing the perspective of
mechanical drawing, she draws us deep into her Hill. Intellectually, we
know that it's only flat streaks of paint on canvas, but the orange and yellow
fields beckon our imaginations to cross over to see what lies in the dark
greens beyond. In both Storm and Little Storm, Sullivan's
placement of a particularly low horizon directs our attention to the grandeur
of the impending cloudbursts.
This extended series of landscape paintings is in stark contrast to
Sullivan's
earlier paintings of blank stuffed dolls and broken porcelain figurines. In
those strongly delineated and richly shaded pictures it was as if she was
trying to work out difficult social and personal situations. The body language
and placement of the dolls in her well-known painting Shadow Story
creates tension that is totally absent from her tranquil landscapes. Looking at
her quiet and contemplative vistas, we assume that whatever brought about the
veiled rage of her earlier work has been resolved and that the current body of
work indicates that her present frame of mind is far more optimistic.
By concentrating her efforts on surreal portraits of familiar Worcester and
North Shore locations, Sullivan takes us with her on the proverbial trip down
memory lane, offering flashes of recognition from which we can conjure up our
own memories, real or imagined.
The ARTSWorcester Gallery at Quinsigamond Community College is open Monday
through Friday from 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. Call 854-4281.