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	<title>Shatter| Susan &#8211; artcritical</title>
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		<title>Maven of Watercolor: Susan Shatter, 1943–2011</title>
		<link>https://artcritical.com/2011/09/29/susan-shatter-1943%e2%80%932011/</link>
					<comments>https://artcritical.com/2011/09/29/susan-shatter-1943%e2%80%932011/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[David Cohen]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 29 Sep 2011 23:33:02 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Tributes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[National Academy Museum]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Shatter| Susan]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://artcritical.com/?p=19068</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>Memorial set for October 5 at the Century Association</p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://artcritical.com/2011/09/29/susan-shatter-1943%e2%80%932011/">Maven of Watercolor: Susan Shatter, 1943–2011</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://artcritical.com">artcritical</a>.</p>
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										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Susan Shatter, who died earlier this year, was one of the great exponents of watercolor among contemporary artists.  She was a consummate technician, revered teacher, and passionate advocate of the medium which she used, along with other painting materials, to express profound feelings for American landscape, whether the searing sublime of Utah desert or the dramatic turbulence of the Maine coast.  In a rare departure in terms of imagery and mood within her work, she also found an organic, abstract language in unexpected colors to express the pains, hopes and sheer weirdness of undergoing her first breast cancer surgery in the mid-1990s, exploring “the anguish, the fear, the joy that I went through being ill and recovering,” as the artist expressed it herself.  After years of heroic struggle she succumbed to the illness this last July.</p>
<figure id="attachment_19069" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-19069" style="width: 457px" class="wp-caption alignnone"><a href="https://artcritical.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/shatter_meltingrock_457.jpg"><img loading="lazy" class="size-full wp-image-19069 " title="Susan Shatter, Melting Rock, 2006. Watercolor on paper, 52 x 61 inches. Courtesy of DFN Gallery" src="https://artcritical.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/shatter_meltingrock_457.jpg" alt="Susan Shatter, Melting Rock, 2006. Watercolor on paper, 52 x 61 inches. Courtesy of DFN Gallery" width="457" height="382" srcset="https://artcritical.com/app/uploads/2011/09/shatter_meltingrock_457.jpg 457w, https://artcritical.com/app/uploads/2011/09/shatter_meltingrock_457-275x229.jpg 275w" sizes="(max-width: 457px) 100vw, 457px" /></a><figcaption id="caption-attachment-19069" class="wp-caption-text">Susan Shatter, Melting Rock, 2006. Watercolor on paper, 52 x 61 inches. Courtesy of DFN Gallery</figcaption></figure>
<p>Shatter was determined that people take watercolor seriously, forcing them to rethink stereotypes arising from the Victorian era when it had earned its reputation as the polite medium of amateurs.  In 2002 I had the privilege to work alongside her in an exhibition she instigated at the New York Studio School, a bold curatorial venture of forty contemporary artists ranging from well-known exponents such as Francesco Clemente, Marlene Dumas, Philip Pearlstein, Al Held, Elizabeth Peyton, Sean Scully, Graham Nickson and David Salle to truly marvelous artists known in smaller circles for their inventive, at times subversive use of the medium to yield singular effects beyond the tropes of wash or translucence, artists like Patricia Tobacco-Forrester (who also passed away this year), Ray Kass and Donald Holden.  It was typical of her feisty attitude towards artistic excellence that Susan would think nothing of bringing together artists of very different milieu and allowing their equality to be asserted on the gallery walls.</p>
<p>Shatter was a great believer in art community.  She was a regular colonist at Yaddo, for instance, and was active in the National Academy of Design, where she served as Treasurer and then, until her illness forced early retirement, as President. Devotees of The Review Panel in particular are in her debt for stewarding the program (with former President Gregory Amenoff) to the NA during turbulent and challenging years for that institution.</p>
<p>Susan Shatter was a native New Yorker.  She studied at Boston University, Pratt Institute and the Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture in Maine, and was the subject of over thirty solo exhibitions, receiving her debut in 1975 at the Harcus Krakow Roen Sonnabend Gallery in Boston, Mass.  A significant exhibition of her work, <em>Tracking the Terrain</em>, that brought together her breast cancer series and landscape paintings, took place in 2003 at the State University of New York at Stonybook and was accompanied by a catalog written by Donald Kuspit.</p>
<p>A memorial for Susan Shatter will take place at the Century Association (7 West 43rd Street) on October 5 at 5 pm.</p>
<figure id="attachment_19070" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-19070" style="width: 71px" class="wp-caption alignnone"><a href="https://artcritical.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/ss-with-dc.jpg"><img loading="lazy" class="size-thumbnail wp-image-19070 " title="Susan Shatter in conversation with the author, 2001.  Photo: Marianne Barcellona" src="https://artcritical.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/ss-with-dc-71x71.jpg" alt="Susan Shatter in conversation with the author, 2001.  Photo: Marianne Barcellona" width="71" height="71" /></a><figcaption id="caption-attachment-19070" class="wp-caption-text">click to enlarge</figcaption></figure>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://artcritical.com/2011/09/29/susan-shatter-1943%e2%80%932011/">Maven of Watercolor: Susan Shatter, 1943–2011</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://artcritical.com">artcritical</a>.</p>
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		<title>Susan Shatter: New Paintings and Stuart Shils: Works on Paper</title>
		<link>https://artcritical.com/2006/12/01/susan-shatter-new-paintings-and-stuart-shils-works-on-paper/</link>
					<comments>https://artcritical.com/2006/12/01/susan-shatter-new-paintings-and-stuart-shils-works-on-paper/#respond</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[John Goodrich]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Dec 2006 16:40:01 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Exhibitions]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Davis & Langdale]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[DFN Gallery]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Shatter| Susan]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Shils| Stuart]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://testingartcritical.com/?p=830</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>Susan Shatter: New Paintings DFN Gallery 210 Eleventh Avenue New York City 212-334-3400 Stuart Shils: Works on Paper Davis &#38; Langdale Company, Inc. 231 East 60th Street New York City 212-838-0333 No other medium has watercolor’s blend of luminosity and directness, and none requires so sure and responsive a touch. With larger watercolors, it becomes &#8230; <a href="https://artcritical.com/2006/12/01/susan-shatter-new-paintings-and-stuart-shils-works-on-paper/">Continued</a></p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://artcritical.com/2006/12/01/susan-shatter-new-paintings-and-stuart-shils-works-on-paper/">Susan Shatter: New Paintings and Stuart Shils: Works on Paper</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://artcritical.com">artcritical</a>.</p>
]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Susan Shatter: New Paintings<br />
DFN Gallery<br />
210 Eleventh Avenue<br />
New York City<br />
212-334-3400</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Stuart Shils: Works on Paper<br />
Davis &amp; Langdale Company, Inc.<br />
231 East 60th Street<br />
New York City<br />
212-838-0333</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></p>
<figure style="width: 457px" class="wp-caption alignnone"><img loading="lazy" title="Susan Shatter High Desert II 2005 watercolor on paper, 39 x 63 inches Courtesy DFN Gallery" src="https://artcritical.com/goodrich/images/susan-shatter.jpg" alt="Susan Shatter High Desert II 2005 watercolor on paper, 39 x 63 inches Courtesy DFN Gallery" width="457" height="276" /><figcaption class="wp-caption-text">Susan Shatter, High Desert II 2005 watercolor on paper, 39 x 63 inches Courtesy DFN Gallery</figcaption></figure>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">No other medium has watercolor’s blend of luminosity and directness, and none requires so sure and responsive a touch. With larger watercolors, it becomes even more difficult to maintain a spontaneous effect. Big dimensions, however, obviously present no problem for Susan Shatter, whose immense landscapes and seascapes at DFN Gallery show both a formidable technique and a remarkable freshness. These works are confined to two motifs: Southwestern desert canyons and rocky Maine shores, and they contain virtually no trace of human, animal, or plant life. Because of their downward point of view, only small strips of sky occasionally appear at their upper edges. This concentration on the elemental, though, allows a vital, organic exploration of whole environments.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Ms. Shatter works from preparatory studies, but even her largest watercolors have the fluidity and breadth of first-hand responses. Forms are confident and hues clear—even in shadows with multiple layers of color—so that the great masses in the six-foot-wide “High Desert I” (2005) sort lucidly into buttes and valleys spreading below one’s gaze. Orange and burnt sienna washes become a dramatic projection of rock in the foreground; its sides drop hundreds of feet to a rocky plain captured in darker washes of ultramarine, cerulean and crimson. Scarlet ranges of hills and green and pink valleys draw the eye, point by point, to the horizon of this inhospitable world awash with color.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The depiction of vast, exotic spaces in this watercolor and in its only slightly smaller companion “High Desert II” (2005) is dazzling, and yet I prefer the dramas of her seascapes. In four large works in the gallery’s main space, sea and rocks occupy approximately equal amounts of paper, so that their compositions resound with the penetrating entanglement of the two. In works like the nearly ten-foot-wide “Crash” (2006), Ms. Shatter maximizes the contrast of fluid and faceted worlds: the translucent depth of the sea, rolling with blues and greens and crested with white ribbons of foam; the prismatic array of warm, compact lights and darks. The visual collision invokes the sensation-saturating rhythms of the real thing—so startlingly that one struggles remember it’s only diluted pigments on paper.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Don’t overlook several small seascape studies in the gallery’s viewing room. These have every quality of the larger ones except the physical dimensions. If they’re less impressive technically, they show a wonderfully intimate, one-to-one correspondence between nature’s gestures and the artist’s responses, with that immediacy available only in watercolor.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span></p>
<figure style="width: 491px" class="wp-caption alignnone"><img loading="lazy" title="Stuart Shils Walls, in Sun and Shadow 2006  monotype with charbonnel ink, oil pastel and pencil on paper, 6 x 6 inches Courtesy Davis &amp; Langdale" src="https://artcritical.com/goodrich/images/stuart-shils.jpg" alt="Stuart Shils Walls, in Sun and Shadow 2006  monotype with charbonnel ink, oil pastel and pencil on paper, 6 x 6 inches Courtesy Davis &amp; Langdale" width="491" height="500" /><figcaption class="wp-caption-text">Stuart Shils, Walls, in Sun and Shadow 2006  monotype with charbonnel ink, oil pastel and pencil on paper, 6 x 6 inches Courtesy Davis &amp; Langdale</figcaption></figure>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">If Ms. Shatter pursues wild expanses, Stuart Shils mines the nuanced and diminutive.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">His recent monotypes at Davis &amp; Langdale depict scenes from his hometown of Philadelphia as well as from trips to Ireland, Israel, Vermont and Indiana, but like his oil paintings they explore a relatively narrow niche: small, simplified compositions rendered in evocative, atmospheric strokes of color. All these prints measure about six inches square and date from 2006.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Mr. Shils’ painterly textures would seem ideally suited for timeless subjects, but in “From Guy’s Balcony, Ahad Ha’am Street #1,” he vigorously tackles the crisp, modern geometry of a modern, multi-story Tel Aviv building. Here, hues energize a straightforward composition. A vibrant deep blue sounds the shadowy cleft between two buildings, one of them partially covered by a lighter gray that has just the right pressure of a shadow cast by the other building. Above them, Mr. Shils’ masterful textures—brisk, but sensitively tuned—lends the sky a humming depth.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">As is sometimes the case with his paintings, Mr. Shils’ monotypes can be over-reliant upon such textures. For instance, the approximated shapes and location of colors in “From Emek Ha Matzieva” leads to a certain slightness of effect, as if the artist were content with just invocations of atmosphere.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Hanging next to it, however, “Along 33rd Street, Strawberry Mansion, North Philly,” has a brightness of rhythm to match its hues. Here, colors not only shift restively about—moving in this case from the vibrant orange-reds of sunlit brick facades to the sky’s spacious cobalt blue—but also build with intense, concise sequences. After the march of orange-red brick, a shadowy violet cuts back abruptly across the buildings above the punctuating note of a tree. A deep blue diamond of roof, weighted by its location and color, provides the essential separation of buildings and sky.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">On another wall, “Rooftops, Night Descending” is a true gem. With Turner-esque élan, Mr. Shils places a building in the mid-distance, so that its front, illuminated by late-afternoon sun, glows against the contrasting darks on its every side. A particularly dark blue plunges in space to one side; in it, a slender tower rises, the print’s lightest note, addressing us from afar. Small ragged notes of white—bits of the paper showing between strokes—attest to the energy of ink application, matched in this case by a dynamic conception of the subject.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><strong>This article first appeared in the New York Sun on October 26, 2006 under the title &#8220;Watercolors Wild and Tidy&#8221;</strong></span></p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://artcritical.com/2006/12/01/susan-shatter-new-paintings-and-stuart-shils-works-on-paper/">Susan Shatter: New Paintings and Stuart Shils: Works on Paper</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://artcritical.com">artcritical</a>.</p>
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		<title>Susan Shatter: New Watercolors From Maine</title>
		<link>https://artcritical.com/2005/01/01/susan-shatter-new-watercolors-from-maine/</link>
					<comments>https://artcritical.com/2005/01/01/susan-shatter-new-watercolors-from-maine/#respond</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Maureen Mullarkey]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jan 2005 21:02:08 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Exhibitions]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lyons Weir Gallery]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Shatter| Susan]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://testingartcritical.com/?p=591</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>lyonswiergallery 511 West 25th Street 212.242.6220 January 6 – February 5, 2005 Susan Shatter&#8217;s painting is not seen often enough. The last time I looked at her work was at the American Academy of Arts and Letters. It was just two years ago at the Academy&#8217;s annual invitational. The two small oils were on view &#8230; <a href="https://artcritical.com/2005/01/01/susan-shatter-new-watercolors-from-maine/">Continued</a></p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://artcritical.com/2005/01/01/susan-shatter-new-watercolors-from-maine/">Susan Shatter: New Watercolors From Maine</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://artcritical.com">artcritical</a>.</p>
]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">lyonswiergallery<br />
511 West 25th Street<br />
212.242.6220</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">January 6 – February 5, 2005</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></p>
<figure style="width: 491px" class="wp-caption alignnone"><img loading="lazy" title="Susan Shatter White Spine 2004 water color on paper, 27 x 60 inches Courtesy lyonsweirgallery" src="https://artcritical.com/mullarkey/images/shatter-16_White_Strip32x54.jpg" alt="Susan Shatter White Spine 2004 water color on paper, 27 x 60 inches Courtesy lyonsweirgallery" width="491" height="223" /><figcaption class="wp-caption-text">Susan Shatter, White Spine 2004 water color on paper, 27 x 60 inches Courtesy lyonsweirgallery</figcaption></figure>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Susan Shatter&#8217;s painting is not seen often enough. The last time I looked at her work was at the American Academy of Arts and Letters. It was just two years ago at the Academy&#8217;s annual invitational. The two small oils were on view were among my favorite paintings in the exhibition.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Ms. Shatter has built a career as a painter of nature&#8217;s grand motifs: deserts, canyons, volcanoes, rivers and the sea. She is unintimidated by the untamed immensities that John Marin insisted every artist needs to confront from time to time. In this exhibition, Ms. Shatter tilts the other way, concentrating on more intimate, less ambitious views of the shoreline at Schoodic, Maine. Works are smaller and mainly in watercolor, with only two wavescapes approaching heroic length .</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Every New Yorker who vacations in Maine will greet these works with a certain recognition. Familiarity derives from the cold, dense blue that is the base of most of the paintings, not from scenic effects. Indeed, there are no scenes, no identifiable spots or favored vistas. These are not the artist&#8217;s concern. Eddying water over rocks viewed at close range is a pretext for studies of movement and reflection, which are the true subjects here.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The five-foot long watercolors &#8220;White Spine,&#8221; (2004) and &#8220;Sea Inside,&#8221; (2004) are my favorites; here is the dynamism, reflective intricacies, and drama of her traditional large oils. The first captures beautifully the liquid dance of a sudden swell, reflecting the values and colors of the sky while throwing into relief  reflected sunlight and white trails of foam. The second depicts the irresistible momentum and pounding weight of a moving mass of water.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Smaller pieces study the elusive echoes of light that ebb and spill over rocks at the the edge of a tide pool.  In abstract terms, the reflective capacity of moving water provides a vehicle for extending color and its effects across paper. The entire ensemble is a masterful performance.</span></p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://artcritical.com/2005/01/01/susan-shatter-new-watercolors-from-maine/">Susan Shatter: New Watercolors From Maine</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://artcritical.com">artcritical</a>.</p>
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