SalonThrive Aims For The Sky

The Zoom visit to artist Chris Ferguson’s studio filled up fast, as 20 people joined within two minutes of each other. Ferguson, in his studio next to a painting of an outdoor scene, smiled back.

“Is this where all the masterpieces come from?” someone on the meeting said. Ferguson laughed.

The online visit to Ferguson’s studio was the latest installment in Kehler Liddell Gallery’s SalonThrive series, which the gallery advertises as “a virtual gathering place for art discussion and discovery on Sundays at 5 p.m. on the Zoom platform. Each episode will feature a different local CT-based artist host, broadcasting live from their studio. All who log on and gather ‘round will have the opportunity to explore the artist’s studio, their work, ideas and influences, in an intimate and unique studio backdrop.”

Host Muffy Pendergast explained that the format would be simple. After a brief introduction, she’d play a short prerecorded video offering an overview of Ferguson’s work and approach to painting. Pendergast would then begin a Q&A session with Ferguson, and open the meeting to a live discussion.

Ferguson was born and raised in New Haven and described himself as always being interested in art. He started off cartooning as a child. He went to Educational Center for the Arts and Paier College of Art. He considered trying to get into children’s book illustration. Paier “got me further into doing oil painting — and the possibility that you can make an income from art,” he said.

He did a series of paintings of New Haven’s food trucks for a show at Da Silva Gallery in Westville that he credited with announcing his presence on the New Haven arts scene. He taught oil painting workshops at Lotta Studio. He joined Kehler Liddell last summer as a member, and taught his first plein air oil painting workshop. He’s working on developing a Zoom painting class; ​“perhaps individuals will be able to look out their windows,” he said. He’s also working on pieces for a solo show at KLG next year. The news was welcome — in part because the audience was interested in hearing what Ferguson’s new work entailed, and in part for the subtle way it pointed toward the simple fact that there will, in fact, likely be gallery shows next year.

Setting Up Shop

KLG ​“closed regular hours before we were technically supposed to,” said Liz Antle‑O’Donnell, the gallery’s director. On the mid-March weekend before everything shut down, the gallery ​“had a story hour planned. We could have technically had it, but I thought, ​‘I don’t think we should.” The gallery, located on Whalley Avenue in Westville, has technically remained dark since.

“At first it was this frantic assessing and re-assessing,” Antle‑O’Donnell said of the gallery’s adaptation to the new pandemic environment. KLG has 27 members and ​“we make a lot of decisions collectively,” she said. A smaller group of volunteers serves as an executive committee. That group ​“kept meeting regularly,” but quickly realized that making hard-and-fast plans were ​“a waste of time…. By the time we had the conversation, I would go to write the email and everything had changed.”

They finally settled on, if not a plan, something like a guideline: ​“Let’s just put everything on hold, and we’ll reopen when we can reopen,” Antle‑O’Donnell said. As the phases of reopening have begun, KLG has leaned toward caution. ​“We decided to hang back and see how things go for the next couple of weeks for the state and then make a decision toward the end of the month,” Antle‑O’Donnell said.

Guests and artists have been flexible. KLG has already selected pieces for its annual juried show. ​“We intend to mount that in the gallery soon,” Antle‑O’Donnell said. This means the gallery is thinking through how to get the public to be able to see it. The space is ​“conducive to socially distanced visits — if three people come in,” she said. ​“Of course we don’t see large gatherings coming back any time soon,” and ​“I don’t really foresee resuming our regular schedule.” There is the possibility of opening the gallery up by appointment. An opening weekend of three people at a time? Time will tell. ​“We’re just trying to remain open and flexible rather than driving ourselves nuts making new plans,” she said.

The inability to throw large events constitutes a financial hit for the gallery. ​“Anywhere from 15 to 20 percent of our income is coming from being able to have large gatherings,” Antle‑O’Donnell said. The membership is considering ways to make up the shortfall. The space could be rented for other artists’ projects, like an indoor video shoot. The gallery has also expanded its website to include an online shop. Interested patrons can purchase artwork from member artists. The gallery artists have also collaborated to create a coloring book. A digital download costs $10. For $20, it can be a printed packet, delivered to your door.

In this way, the pandemic forced the gallery to do something that members had discussed for quite some time. ​“We’ve definitely been behind the times as far as having art for sale,” Antle‑O’Donnell said. ​“Having art for sale would come up at a gallery meeting” in the past, but other priorities seemed more pressing. ​“Now we have to do it.” Now that the store is set up, she said, ​“it could possibly help business tremendously.”

The gallery also hosted its opening for its last show on Facebook Live and, like most institutions, has familiarized itself with Zoom and other online platforms. It’s possible that this virtual element of gallery openings and events will remain part of KLG’s programming even after the pandemic has passed. ​“Maybe once we can have openings again, we’ll have in-person and online audiences,” Antle‑O’Donnell said.

Antle‑O’Donnell is optimistic about the gallery’s continued existence. ​“We have a great team, full of positive, innovative folks, and the gallery’s been around for a long time,” she said. But there are questions. ​“If this is going to go on for a long time, are we going to fill the gaps? How will the gallery look when we reopen? If we’re not having in-person shows, what else are we doing that is of value to our artists?”

To address that final question, artist Muffy Pendergast spearheaded SalonThrive, ​“based on the salons of Paris, where people would come to an artist’s studio space and have conversations about it,” Antle‑O’Donnell said. This Sunday’s salon with Ferguson marked the fifth installment of the series.

The first, over a month ago, featured Gar Waterman, followed by PenRod Studios, Frank Bruckmann, and Ana Henriques. Artists are scheduled for every Sunday at 5 p.m. through July 12, except for Father’s Day and the July 4 weekend. The schedule begins with KLG member artists, but ​“from there we’ll go to Westville artists and beyond,” Antle‑O’Donnell said. ​“We envision it lasting beyond the pandemic.”

Participation is free to anyone, but an RSVP is required. Those who miss the salon in person can check out previous episodes through the gallery’s Vimeo page, which condenses each gallery visit into less than 10 snappy minutes.

“We don’t necessarily visit each other’s studios. Having the chance to talk about each other’s work is really fun,” Antle‑O’Donnell said. Some people, she said, report having Zoom fatigue, which is understandable. ​“It’s great to connect, but there’s still a disconnect” on various online platforms, she said. ​“It’s not actually being with your friends and neighbors.” But ​“it’s the best we can do right now, and it’s not bad.”

The Painting He Won’t Part With

“I loved hearing about what really gave you the momentum, which seems to have been the food trucks,” Pendergast said during the virtual tour. ​“Tell us how that started.”

Ferguson explained that ​“I drive for Yale,” a job he has held for 14 years (see a previous Independent article from 2013 for more about that). His bus route takes him down Cedar Street by the medical school, where a throng a food carts congregates during lunch hour. ​“Seeing that every day gave me the idea,” he said. ​“I had breaks where I could get out of my vehicle and take a few pictures. That was where I gathered a lot of my information.” As the painting series took shape, he took more pictures when he wasn’t working, at other locations around town.

“I would have liked to have done plein air with the food trucks,” he said, but his work hours didn’t permit him to set up his easel at Cedar Street when the food trucks were there. Also, ​“I had a thing about setting up my easel after hours — there’s this ​‘hey look at me!’ factor that I wanted to not do.”

That was then, however. ​“Now I would!” he said, about the possibility of revisiting the series and doing the paintings plein air. ​“Of course, now there aren’t any food trucks out.”

The questions from the audience continued. One person asked about his funniest painting experience, and Ferguson told a story about painting at a bed and breakfast. He was painting beneath a porch. A wedding party blocked his view. He painted through drunk bridesmaids and the end of the party. At last, a worker above hosed the porch — and his canvas. ​“Thankfully oil and water don’t mix,” Ferguson said. And someone eventually bought the painting itself.

He talked about his time at Paier. ​“A lot of my teachers were very encouraging,” he said. ​“I feel like a lot of the stuff I learned, I learned later.” Sometimes, he said, 15 years later — something a teacher said that he didn’t understand at the time suddenly clicked.

Ferguson’s wife works at the Yale Center for British Art, and he said that she has helped him in critiquing his work and developing a theme for his solo show. She gave him idea for ​“the sky as a theme,” he said. ​“It’s not all about skies, but there are aspects of the sky in each painting.” This was partly an expression of the way his spirituality — he is a Jehovah’s Witness — informs his art practice.

“I don’t preach through my painting, but I do try to focus on positive imagery and subject matter,” Ferguson said. ​“Painting is a gift from our creator, and you want to be thankful for that and share it with others. I want to make people happy with my paintings.”

As a case in point, he referred to the painting that had been next to him for the entire talk. ​“This scene behind me was a reference photo that I took a couple years ago at the Wooster Square farmer’s market,” he said. ​“There was a lot of energy there and that’s what drew me.”

As he continued to develop as an artist, he found that plein air painting — painting what was in front of him, in the moment — was becoming an increasingly vital part of his work. ​“You can work from photos — sometimes you have no choice — but working plein air teaches you what’s really happening,” he said. In his plein air workshops, he said, ​“I tell participants, ​‘Try to use a photo you took yourself. Try to remember what it was like to be there.” Later, it was important to paint less from the photo than from the memory of having taken it. ​“That’s more accurate,” he said.

“If there was a bird fight next to you, you would try to record that?” someone asked.

“I’ve actually had people fighting next to me,” he said. ​“That’s another story.” Further discussion led to Ferguson explaining that he was revisiting 2‑D animation in order to learn more about how to capture the effects of movement in his paintings. ​“Everything moves in life. We’re painting scenes, but everything moves. Trees are moving. People are moving. The wind is blowing.” And ​“the sky is one of the greatest works of art. It’s always moving. It’s different every single day. And it’s not just white clouds and blue sky. There are so many colors.” In terms of his spirituality, he said, the nature of the sky caused him to ruminate on ​“what that says about the one who made it all — that’s something I think about a lot.”

This brought Ferguson to talking about a painting connected to his mother. ​“I was born really late,” he said, in his family’s history; his siblings are much older. ​“My mother and father passed away in 2013, within six months of each other,” he said. They were In their early 80s. ​“They had a great life together, all the way up to the end,” he said. When his mom passed, he continued, ​“we went to Savin Rock, looking for a place for repast to hold for my mom. When we went there it was a fall day. It was cold and stormy and rainy. As we were going in to confirm arrangements, I went out and took a picture of this scene, and it described my mom’s traits perfectly.” Beautiful, he said, ​“dark, stormy, but happy as well.”

“I kind of put her initials in the shells on the beach in the corner of the painting,” he added.

Pendergast noted that the painting was hanging in KLG. ​“Eventually we’ll be able to get back there and see it,” she said.

Amid the general accolades the audience gave for Ferguson’s work, Ferguson began talking about how he looks at past work and understands that he might do it differently if he could do it again. Referring to the Savin Rock painting, he said, ​“it did come out for what I needed to say at the time.” But ​“there are still some things that I see.”

“I think there’s only one painting that I did where I totally nailed it,” he added. ​“That was a painting of myself and my daughter when she was an infant. It was me and her and something abstract in the sky. I don’t know how I got it right. I think that had to do with where I was emotionally with it.”

Ferguson’s wife then took the camera and moved it to a nearly wall, where the painting he talked about was hanging. Even through the blurry camera image, it was easy to see that Ferguson was right. It showed his girl’s infant hands reaching for his face, and somehow also his adult face receiving her touch. The expressions on both faces said everything. The background was somehow bursting with joy and longing, the desire to capture the moment and the knowing that the moment was already long gone. The audience was moved, and said so.

Ferguson had sold many paintings, and hoped to sell more. But ​“that’s the one that I won’t part with,” he said.

Visit Kehler Liddell Gallery’s website for details about the next SalonThrive and its online shop.