A few weeks ago I visited The Cascadia Art Museum. See An Artist Date. I described there that an “artist date” is meant to be a solo affair, a time to pay close attention to the sights and sounds, how the place you’re visiting makes you feel, and what it brings to mind.
So here are some thoughts and images from my visit to The Cascadia Art Museum.
Drawers & Attics
If you’re an artist or a writer, much of your creative work could end up in someone’s attic or in a drawer. In my case, my old paintings and batiks are in the basement. (My daughter calls it “the dungeon”. I have no idea why.)
The day of my visit, the museum was featuring an exhibit of the early works of George Tsutakawa (1910-1987). Most of them were never seen before by the public. I wonder where his family kept all those prints and paintings. Did they ever look at them after his death in 1987? Did they wonder what they should do with them?
Natural Skill, Determination, and Luck
Tsutakawa must have been a natural. Many of the works filling three rooms of The Cascadia Art Museum were done in his early twenties. He loved art, but his father wanted him to forget about it and join his business. He refused, and at the age of seventeen he left home. That’s determination. And talking about luck: his first commission to design a fountain for the main Seattle Public Library might have been a stroke of luck since it led over the years to more than 75 major fountain sculptures around the world, from Washington, D.C to Tokyo, from LA to Vancouver, BC, and, of course, many in Washington state, including one at Seattle University, my alma mater.
Mike from Vancouver, Canada, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Why This Subject & Not That?
It may be only subconscious, but I believe that when an artist chooses a subject for his painting, he’s telling us, “Look! Isn’t this beautiful!” or “Isn’t this interesting.” “Have you ever noticed this before?” or maybe, “Think about it. This is the suffering caused by war.” (Guernica 1937 by Picasso)
In the 1930s and early 1940s during the Depression, some of the most famous American artists painted groups of hard-working men. Their art seemed to say, “This is the dignity of work.”
That’s what I thought about when I saw Tsutakawa’s linocut prints. “Salmon Pitching” was done in 1932. He also did prints of an Alaskan cannery and one of longshoremen working at Union Bay.
Docents & the Public
Seeing a docent sitting quietly in her folding chair or patrolling the rooms, pretending not to watch us, she might remind us of a guard. Don’t touch this. Don’t steal that. And yes, that may be a part of her job.
But docents are volunteers, and I’ve learned that they love to be helpful. Just ask a question, and the seemingly phlegmatic docent will come alive and tell you everything you might want to know.
Art museum guests are almost as quiet as library patrons. In the first three rooms, they spoke in whispers or not at all. And then I moved into the last room, “Urban Scenes of Seattle 1910-1960,” and everyone wanted to talk. “I used to work near there.” “This building has hardly changed.” “This one is gone.”
No one could pinpoint the location of “Demolition, 1949” by Yvonne Twining Humber, but I liked it. It’s another example of men at work, but this time after WWII.
I rarely visit art galleries here but I really should make more effort. I love that fountain. What an extraordinary body of work!
I enjoyed reading about Tsutakawa’s life. As someone who has been on-again, off-again in my involvement with art, I admire Tsutakawa’s serious lifelong dedication to art. Besides his “extraordinary body of work”, he also taught art at the University of Washington for many years.
Oh I wish more galleries were reliably quiet. Many exhibitions are now “events” and so filled with people who aren’t art lovers but simply looking for stuff to do. The crowds and chatter tends to keep me away from the bigger museums and galleries now. I have one friend I absolutely refuse to go to galleries with as she talks constantly, and not about the exhibits. I happily walk around on my own, truth be told.
But I will also go as the in-person viewing experience cannot be beaten.
Big galleries can feel overwhelming. I somehow feel obligated to see and appreciate everything, and then I get tired and don’t appreciate anything anymore. Smaller galleries are not only quieter, they present us with a more human-sized experience. I revisited the art museum a couple of days ago with my sister. We have similar interests, so I enjoyed discussing the art with her. I hope we weren’t too noisy.
This looks like a great museum. Not that all museums aren’t great, just some are more great than others. Will you be rescuing your drawings from the dungeon any time soon?
I’m not sure what to do with the paintings in my dungeon. I did get one framed for my granddaughter’s wedding.
The Cascadia Art Museum is a real treasure for Edmonds
I agree, Judith. Even a small city can have a first-class art museum.
Love that fountain! I just checked out a few of his other fountains. Wet, Wild, and Wonderful!
George Tsutakawa’s four children all have careers in the arts. Gerald worked as his father’s apprentice for 20 years, and he’s still a sculptor–fountains and many other things.
I’m glad you’re continuing these artist dates, Nicki. What a beautiful scultpure! So glad you saw these discoveries!
I’ve always wondered how one becomes a docent.
One of my friends was a docent for a while in Burlington, VT. I suppose you just volunteer.
I told my sister about the Urban Scenes of Seattle room, and since she worked in downtown Seattle for a number of years, she wanted to see it. So I went again with her (after we went out for a very tasty lunch).
I enjoy SAM exhibits and visit them in other parts of the world to see what the countries and local people are proud of. Recently, archeological museums of Greece have been a priority. Today, digital visits are possible but being in a museum is much better, whenever one can.
Doing anything in person is always better.
The Cascadia Art Museum shows only Northwest art and design and only from the period from 1860 to 1970. I enjoy seeing how art developed in our region. It lends some perspective to what I see in the art galleries around town, and we have some excellent galleries in Edmonds.