Nancy Wolfe May 03, 2001 4:50 a.m.

Dear Friends,

One of the most difficult things for this artist to do is to articulate about the meaning of the work. It was my task while taking my Master of Fine Arts to constantly ask myself this question: What is my message and where does it come from? I worked under a great painter and mentor, Sheldon Iden; during a faculty review of my paintings, I overheard him tell the other professors that I was a ‘natural-born painter’. I was forty-three when I started to draw and paint and I am possessed.

Over these years, I have written a variety of artist statements to help lead you into my place so here are a sampling of them: I keep a journal: my paintings. I’ve always felt impassioned by language, other people’s storytelling, when an ordinary moment is turned into a profound experience. I am seduced by its ‘color’ and richness and my paintings are a way of keeping a journal, integrating and improvising on ideas with paint. I have continually returned to the idea of Gooseberries, which is the title of a short story by Anton Chekhov. Recently, I have been working through a series of numbers based on The Kingdom of Infinite Number by Bryan Bunch.

“Not the sun merely but the earth itself shines, white fire leaping from the showy mountains and the flat road shimmering in early morning: is this for us only, to induce response, or are you stirred also, helpless to control yourself in earth’s presence…”
Matins from “The Wild Iris” by Louise Gluck

When I was ten years old, I overheard my mother tell someone that I had the worst handwriting of all of her kids (there were 3 of us). I was shocked. I think it must have stayed with me forever because here I am, writing on my paintings, trying to make it not so.

Am I you? is the title of one of my paintings. This connection and ambiguity had its beginnings in the young girl walking the streets of my immigrant neighborhood in Detroit. I am etched to observe the intermingling of people and ideas, never quite understanding this foreign tongue. Am I you, old man, cane in hand, with an altered rhythm to your gait? Your leg would suddenly spasm, running away, and in this spurt of chaos you had to chase your leg to keep up. I ran, grabbing onto you. Whenever I saw you coming, I watched and waited.

From my first review in The Ann Arbor News by John Carlos Cantu, January 19, 1992:
“Most important, there’s a reliance on myth and metaphor in her works’ titles that doesn’t directly explain her art as much as it orients the viewer toward the mood she is striving to establish.”

From Cannery Row by John Steinbeck: “How can the poem and the stink and the grating noise—the quality of light, the tone, the habit and the dream—be set down alive?
Reluctantly, Nancy Wolfe