Recently, I had the chance to visit the Museum of Art and Culture in Napa Valley. I went there to see an exhibit featuring works by the Wyeth Family. They titled it “Three Generations of Wyeths.” NC Wyeth, Andrew Wyeth, and Jaime Wyeth. It would be my first time seeing their originals, and I’d been looking forward to this exhibit for about a year. So, as you might guess, I was excited.
After having bought my admission, I decided to take things slow, looking at each image wall by wall one at a time. Very methodical. Rather silly because I could always go back to see the exhibit as much as I wanted. Still, I felt like there might be something I could miss.
I spent a lot of time with NC Wyeth’s paintings. I’m an illustrator, so I thought his work is where I could learn the most that would directly impact my craft and career. I studied his brushwork, values, charcoal, and pencil drawings. They were all beautiful.
Afterwards, was Andrew’s work, which was absolutely stunning. His attention to detail and the way he captured his subjects were amazing. The subtle hues and value control are masterful. Even the treatment of the gesso ground. I wouldn’t have thought he carved into it to achieve an effect. I’ve never tried tempera painting, but his work definitely inspired me to give it a shot.
Finally, I looked at Jamie’s work, which included both older and younger pieces. You could see where he learned from his father, but you also got a glimpse of his work transitioning to a more expressive and self-assured voice.
I went through the room at least two more times—it’s not a big museum— spending time with certain pieces that caught my eye. When I was done, I left but not before checking out the gift shop, just in case I found a book I needed to bring home.
I’ll share my thoughts, some of their pieces were truly impressive, while others weren’t quite up to par. Since I was seeing their art for the first time, I’m not sure if those pieces were their best or not. NC is a fantastic artist, but even in his work, there were imperfections. Tangents, value choices that didn’t quite hit the mark, and a repetition of brushwork that gave a sameness to everything and not in a good way. Andrew seems to be the more skilled craftsman among the Wyeth’s. But even his work has its flaws. His paintings are so controlled and restrained. They seem to lack a bit of human warmth. They’re not cold, but rather, you feel like you need to hold yourself in stillness around them. Lastly, there’s Jamie. Not quite as skilled a technician as his predecessors, but he’s still incredibly good. His work was the most surprising to me. I usually gravitate towards more realistic pieces with a lot of technical skill, but instead, I found his work to be the most interesting and dynamic. His brushwork is bold, full of personality and opinion in his compositions. One piece in particular really caught my attention—it’s haunting. I’d heard a lot about his paintings not being very good, but after seeing them in person, I’d disagree.
You’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead, so the saying goes, and I’ll be straightforward. Driving home, I couldn’t help but reflect on the exhibit and how it stirred me. The insights I gained in terms of craftsmanship. But what really hit me was a sense of frustration. In those pieces, I saw a freedom I’ve always yearned for but never quite managed to achieve. A confidence to embrace things as they are and focus on the work’s purpose. For every piece, there was a clear intent to communicate. There were moments when I felt completely drawn to certain paintings, captivated by their intimacy or power. And this is just my experience; sometimes, I felt a gnawing grief when I looked at their work. I recognized it as my own frustration with my own stubbornness and resistance in my creative process.
Every artist, like everyone else, is on a journey. I’m currently experiencing a turning point, perhaps due to age, maturity, or a growth phase. I’ve noticed that my work doesn’t resonate with me the same way it used to, and the joy it once brought has been missing. So, that exhibit, which was supposed to be a casual day trip, turned out to be more transformative than I expected. Now that I’m back in my studio, I’m keeping the revelation in mind. I’ve been feeling that there’s a new path ahead, different from what I’ve been doing. I now have a lamp post guiding me ahead.
The mountains we climb and summit, giving us perspective, were built by the bones of our ancestors.
