Finding Vintage Romance in Today's Independent Art

Folks well-familiar with this blog know I'm a big fan of art. Whether it's framed prints from the 30s in the Maxfield Parrish style, thrift store paintings where good intentions may outweigh skill, or talented artists and photographers working today to express themselves creatively. In fact, I fear my love of art is rapidly starting to exceed my wall space!

Like decorating, taste in art is incredibly subjective, of course. One man's prized collection can easily be another man's creative nightmare. But I thought you all might like to see just a few of the artists and photographers working today whose creative ideas I respect and enjoy. For a lover of things vintage and Victorian, I feel they echo that sense of romance, adventure, mystery and story-telling.

I just thought it might be fun to give them some props today!

Like British artist, Michael Thomas here...


He's a book jacket illustrator out of England and his work becomes cover art, notecards and prints. I have three of his original paintings, and have been absolutely wowed by his skill, as well as how effectively he has embraced the Pre-Raphaelite style for his subject matter and composition. His works are largely acryllic on board. The piece here is Rapunzel, and as I understand it, she is intended to be used in cards and as an illustration within a fairy tale edition.


This one below is called Pices...

I'm not actually a Pices, but I loved the delicate figure and her almost Rosetti-styled face.

The last of his works which I own is what he refers to as his Art Nouveau angel...

This, the artist indicated, was one of the more decorative pieces he'd done. The elaborate background detailing does remind me of some Burne-Jones pieces, while the figure complements the Pices painting well. I have these on either side of my Victorian pocket doors.

You can check out more of Michael Thomas' work-- I believe he currently has prints available of Pices and the art nouveau angel-- in his Ebay store Fresco Art by clicking here.

Another artist currently doing work which reflects his love of Pre-Raphaelite art is American artist Patrick Lynch out of Kentucky.


I met Patrick online a few years ago due to a mutual appreciation of the Pre-Raphaelites. Patrick balances his art career along with a full-time job-- no easy task-- but has been passionate about his painting for decades. His work uses paint as well as colored pencils to create the vivid shades you see above-- a feat made more remarkable as the artist works to find the right balance in spite of being color-blind.

His paintings typically incorporate Victorian or medieval-Gothic styled ladies with wistful expressions. Imagery tends to emphasize his love of the gramophone, river scenes, and statuary. The painting below is one of my personal favorites in Patrick's online gallery. It's called First Night of Autumn. The hats are based on the work of one of his friends, a Kentucky hat designer.

You can check out more of Patrick's work at his site The Lost and Beautiful Past.

My most recent art purchase was from a shop at Etsy, called Audrey Eclectic. Artist Heather Van Winkle uses the "whimsy folk art" style to create pretty, quirky portraits with a gentle storybook feel. Using mixed media collage, large eyed lasses stare demurely at the viewer, infused with layered details that sneak up a bit of the viewer the more he or she looks. What I appreciated in particular was her work involves more than pretty images of old-fashioned girls, but little tales to support each one.


This is "Elerey," a "Hallowed Hall girl"-- one of three sister portraits, each with a fun little history to accompany her. You can read about them on Heather's blog. Elerey was a toy maker-- and her creations tended to demonstrate some very mysterious and unusual behavior! I liked her Wednesday Addams style.

Another interesting feature is, Heather's work is done on scrap wood, cleaned up and repurposed. Talk about your trash to treasure!

In terms of less Gothic, more Shabby Chic art, I also became taken with an artist named Carole DeWald. She sells on Ebay, in her shop Carole's Cottage, and does still life floral work which puts a particular emphasis on roses, hydrangeas and lilacs. This particular painting is in my dining room.


Another Ebay artist of the genre is Mary Ann Mayer. Her lilac painting-- with its impressionist feel-- made an impression on me. I love that it looks like it has some real age to it.


While we were discussing artists, I'd also wanted to draw your attention to two photographers that capture the natural world in remarkable ways. It's patience and perseverance that make their work so awe-inspiring-- waiting for that perfect glow of a sunset, capturing the right angle of a Western mesa, or sitting in a boat on a Norwegian lake for the just-right shot of the Aurora Borealis.

If you're a fan of nature photography, I think you'll really enjoy the work here.

Rodney Lough is an American photographer whose work my friend Scoobie is addicted to. His love of nature shines through with every photograph, and honestly, once you've seen Rodney's treatment of a particular area, it never seems the same again. He makes our world truly magical. Check out his site, TheLoughRoad, and I believe you'll see what I mean.

Photographer Thomas Laupstad is a fellow I met online through blogging, and like Rodney Lough, he captures his own country-- Norway-- with a keen eye, a love of color and a lot of waiting around for the perfect moment. You can see Thomas' work on his blog here.

Well, I hope you all enjoyed this little dip into the world of independent art today. I know there are a lot of talented people out there, but I thought it would be nice to discuss just a few whose work has become a part of my life.

• If you missed Treasure Box Wednesday, where the mantle gets a new look, I get a few thrifted goodies and you all get some vintage tunes, click here.

• If you missed last Sunday's post on Giggles over Wiggling, Jiggling Jell-O recipes, click here.

And I hope to see you again soon! Thanks for your visit.

Angels in the Architecture: Gargoyles, Graveyard Statuary and Other Hidden Gems

“He looked around, round/ He saw angels in the architecture, spinning in infinity”
--Paul Simon, “You Can Call Me Al”

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I apologize, folks, because I’d inadvertently fibbed to you last week. I’d anticipated today’s post would be about the outdoor decorating swap I’m participating in. But there have been... ahem... technical difficulties... which have pushed things back a bit.

Oh, it’s all resolved now and will be sending the package off today. But this means I’ll have to share the results of it all with you next week. I mean, I COULD tell you now, but I don’t want to ruin the surprise for the dear lady who’s receiving the package. ‘Nuff said.

So instead, I thought I’d share with you one of my weird little hobbies-- taking pictures of the art that surrounds us all the time, whether we discern it or not-- the sculpture found in local architecture and cemeteries.

I guess I started to become interested in architectural statuary about ten years ago during a five-day business trip to New Orleans. Most of the trip involved standing hours on end, manning a tradeshow booth. But in the time I was there, I had one glorious, booth-free day-- so my colleague and I decided to take a bus tour of the city. One of the stops was at one of New Orleans’ famous cemeteries. And there, I was surrounded by the most amazing sculptures of angels, gargoyles and other fantastic faces. There was not enough time to take all the photos I’d wished.

Once back in western PA, I couldn’t quite get the angels out of my system. There seemed to be all this remarkable artwork lurking where so few people saw it, and I became determined to capture a bit of it on film.

I suppose it might seem morbid, to actively wander through old cemeteries and narrow city streets searching for the expressions of history, myth and spirituality carved in rock or honed in metal. But it’s actually a very relaxing quest. It forces you to slow down, and really stop and see what’s around you every day-- to truly notice the eaves of a turn-of-the-century bank... The detail on a steeple.... The nuances in an old heavy door.

It’s why I particularly like that line from Paul Simon’s “You Can Call Me Al” I’d posted above. No matter what your belief system, it’s those little normally-overlooked details and surprises, like angels out of rock, that help keep life full of continued wonder.

Many of the photos here come from two cemeteries in the Squirrel Hill/Homewood area in Pittsburgh, though some are also from the rolling hills near Smicksburg, PA.

This is the statue a friend and I refer to as “The Black Angel.” She’s very hard to photograph due to the years of weathered patina.
This poor statue below has seen better days, yet still manages to strike a triumphant pose, even missing part of a limb...
I find it interesting how, depending on the time of day and the amount of sunlight, the statues seem to reflect a different mood. The sunshine of the day reflected an unexpected green and pinkish cast onto the face of this figure...

I’ve always liked how this figure’s placid face appears to look upward for answers. There’s a really nice sense of strength about the pose. He's a handsome fellow..


And the range of expressions among the figures is so broad. We can go from the sweet face of one statue...
To the frightening gaze of another...


And a visage that has been almost entirely worn away by time...


In the old historic banking district-- Second Avenue, in downtown Pittsburgh-- we see other faces peering down upon us. Not unexpectedly we discover the faces of the lion...



But we find some other beautiful and terrible friends silently begging for our attention...


What fierce face is this? A greenman? A satyr? A lion?


It’s a case of beauty and the beast, because see what has been carved on the building’s opposite wall?...

And even here on the Birmingham Bridge, we are being watched unaware, by steelworkers and miners in gargoyle form...


It really gets you thinking, doesn’t it? Looks like this lady certainly is taking a moment for reflection...

I hope you enjoyed this little journey today. See you next week!

Hey, Baby New Year, Pass Me That Mantle Scarf!

When those post-Christmas sales hit, and I hit the stores, I don’t look across the ransacked aisles and see a rumpled, partied-out spirit of Christmas Past…

I see Victorian decorating on a budget.

After all, what we largely consider a “traditional” Christmas actually has its roots in Victorian England. So, many decorative items slated for the holidays work perfectly well in a Victorian home on any day of the year.

The Victorians were all about jewel tones—rich reds, greens, blues, and purples. And while these colors can be impossible to find during spring and summer, at Christmas they’re a staple (and after Christmas they’re a steal). So if you’re looking for slipcovers, goblets, lampshades, candles, or throws in red, deep blue, hunter or plum, this is the time to snap them up. They’ll be gone once that Annual Retail Time-Warp happens and Spring pastels bloom mysteriously in February.

And while we’re on the subject of bold colors... if you love Victoriana, all that glitters might very well be gold. Often considered too-gaudy for its own good most of the year, at Christmas, suddenly gold has this seasonal popular resurgence, with stores boasting displays to even satisfy Midas.

Then, come January, once again it’s, “Be gone! Away with you, gold! You are tacky and sicken me! Silver is the new gold now!” (Home fashion is so darned fickle.) But for folks who like Victoriana, the mercurial nature of retail is really just bonus; because from stately chargers and candlesticks, to elegant mirrors and bejeweled picture frames, if you’re going to go for the gold, the time to get it is now. And cheap.

It’s also the right time of year to secure heavy Victorian fabrics like jacquard and velvet. I got these velvet table runners at Dollar General right before the holidays at just a few bucks a piece. You’ll probably want to avoid items printed in holly or other seasonal patterns (and on jacquard, the pattern can be subtle, so it’s smart to look carefully). But it’s easy to find appropriate mantle scarves, tablecloths and tablerunners to use whenever. The Victorians loved their textiles, and Christmas offers some luxurious options.

And while you’re shopping, don’t forget to visit the craft store. Craft stores can be an unexpected resource when you’re a bit of a neo-Victorian. My favorite ornament to use all year round is the Victorian tassel. No, they don’t serve any particular function—unless you have a playful cat or a high-stress job. But the look is distinctly Victorian. And on a drawer pull, doorknob or curtain tie-back, they can be a fun little addition.

Victorian-styled ornaments like tassels, fans, old-fashioned shoes, and cherubs are also a nice way to top off a gift any time of the year. Many come in sage greens and rose colors, which work as appropriately on packages in June as they do in December.

So if you begin to suffer from the post-holiday blues, just remember: the comforting richness of the season can stay with you all year round. And for a fraction of the cost you’d expect.

At Home with Richard III

Richard III and I go way back. I guess if anyone told me years ago that I would invite a maligned historical figure to be a permanent guest in my home, I would have been wondering what meds they were on. But once Richard made himself comfortable and I got to know him a little better, he’s become a unique and compelling fixture in my life.

It was Edwin Austin Abbey who first introduced us. Abbey was an American illustrator during the Victorian period, who honed his craft in England, influenced by the Pre-Raphaelite movement. His work was theatrical, with a widescreen-like composition featuring crowds in dramatic, often Shakespearean, action. For example, the print below-- one of his illustrations for King Lear.

The Abbey at the Carnegie Museum of Art in Pittsburgh, called The Penance of Eleanor (viewed here) , has been a favorite of mine since college. There’s just something about the Gothic atmosphere, the rich reds and purples, and that creepy magician in the corner that simultaneously fascinates and frightens.

Then one day a routine visit to an antique store uncovered an amazing find. Across this precariously-stacked shop was a chromolithograph of a work I was sure I recognized. It was Abbey’s Richard, Duke of Gloucester.

And after a bit of quick negotiation with a dealer who seemed politely befuddled why I would want such a thing (poor Abbey has found himself terribly out-of-fashion in the Art World), I brought the four-foot-long, heavy oak-framed piece home. Richard had found his place.


Since Richard took up residence in my living room, I’ve learned quite a bit more about him. For centuries, texts have analyzed the questionable circumstances surrounding the disappearance of his nephews-- heirs to the throne Prince Edward and Prince Richard. Whether or not he locked these children in the Tower of London, and murdered them to usurp the crown, has been a rich source of continued, often-passionate debate. Was Richard the hunchbacked, duplicitous monster that Thomas More, Shakespeare and Allison Weir have said? Or is it possible that he was a fair ruler, a decent uncle, and history has done him a great disservice (as Revisionists like Horace Walpole, AJ Pollard, Bertram Fields and, er, Blackadder I, suggest)?

Having read theories from both sides, visited the Tower of London in person, and witnessed the propaganda machine of our own tumultuous politics, I have begun to feel ol’ Dickon may have, in part, gotten a bum rap. No one can be as wholly unredeemable as writers like one-note Weir have made him out to be. And that’s human nature, not just history.

Ironically, a second antique store brought me a mezzotint of the supposed victims in this 600-year-old mystery, Millais’ The Princes in the Tower. So now, to the right side of my original “Richard,” young Prince Edward and his brother wait on the stairs for all eternity-- fearful, listening, as an approaching figure casts a shadow in the cold, stone corridor. Is it the approach of their protector or their doom? Minds a lot sharper than mine have yet to answer this question.

Now I do recognize that having one of medieval history’s most notorious villains as the focal-point of the living room is probably not everyone’s cup of mead. First and foremost, interior design should be something you can live with. But honestly, since he’s come to stay, Richard’s been just no trouble at all-- the ideal guest in many ways. And if anything, the artwork serves as a constant reminder that whether you surround yourself with family photos, cherished landscapes or even loathed Shakespearean antagonists, art should be something that sparks your interest and your imagination.

Follow-up Fun:

• If anyone has an Abbey similar to mine, or has any information regarding the origins of this particular print, I’d love to hear from you. This piece came just as you see it here, and I’ve been trying to track down any info on its provenance, age, etc. The print has become almost as mysterious to me as Richard himself!

• To learn more about Edwin Austin Abbey and his work, click here. This site has some pretty good overview information and shows a number of his well-known works. Sadly, the bulk of his collection is underappreciated and undisplayed at Yale, due to space constraints and current trends in modern art. (How many great things are out there, I wonder, that we never, ever get to see?)

• To learn why Richard III may have had a seriously bad PR problem thanks to the Tudor spin-doctors, click here. This will take you to the Richard the III Society, a group of revisionist historians working to clear Richard’s name. Viewpoints run from the logical and relatively-balanced to the sincere but far-fetched. Still, you have to appreciate folks who can get this jazzed about things that happened in 1483!