DALE SAVIT | OPENING RECEPTION FRIDAY JANUARY 13th 6-8pm
Live jazz piano by Rob Fontana
*Masks are recommended.
Dale Savit earned his BFA at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston and his MFA at Maryland Institute College of Art. He began his life in the visual arts as a jeweler in Chicago, where he apprenticed with renowned goldsmith Marvin Shafer. An excursion to New England led to his enrollment at the Boston Museum School and inspired his transition to larger-scale steel and ceramic sculpture. At the same time, he began translating his sculptured shapes into oil stick and charcoal drawings, both black and white and color. As he continues to draw on surfaces, and in space through sculpture, he crosses the line from abstract to imagistic, and both styles manifest in his work. His studio at Stonybrook Fine Arts in Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts remains an engine of his creativity and a home base for teaching welding and jewelry making. He has shown his work at Fountain Street Fine Art in Boston; Gallery A & D in Highwood, IL; Silvermine Guild Center in New Canaan, CT; and recently was an artist-in-residence at The Ragdale Foundation in Lake Forest, Illinois.
Artist Statement:
I have long been spellbound by the genius of the peerless artist who dwarfs all: Mother Nature.
I am drawn to immerse myself in the forests of the U.S. and Canadian Rockies and, in cooler seasons back home, on treks through Boston's Arnold Arboretum, New Hampshire's White Mountains, and Vermont's Green Mountains. I find the panoramas, both wide and narrow, presented by these diverse locales so arresting. How can I not reach for my camera to capture them? How can I not pick up oil sticks and inks to mimic these seductive tapestries of leaves, vines, and brambles among gardens of stone and cascading water? How can I not explore new paint palettes inspired by these orchestras of color? These are the compulsions that help me to look for harmony within Nature's disarray.
Ensnared by this quest, it begins to dawn on me that, if you let yourself get too knocked out by Mother Nature, the boundary lines between the outdoor visions that beckon you and the squares of canvas you dream up blur, and you can’t always say where one vision ends and another begins.