Andrew Wyeth died today. He has a lot of work at the Portland Museum of Art, where I happened to be this past Tuesday. He's one of the featured artists there, actually. There's a significant N. C. Wyeth and Andrew Wyeth collection on the third floor. I am someone who quite loves those "huh?" inducing paintings -- the abstract expressionists. However, I love Andrew Wyeth because he captured the quiet, the beauty, the sometimes grotesqueness, the harsh but still comforting aspects of my beloved Maine in his work.
On the other end of the spectrum, ![](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_sFcZvA1_-Nlp9jair7ccSLxggZhGfZfk80cLayaXzgCWxH2pAZYhEK64ot4xPQSXo5PONH82kB58HBU8OMwLok1vOtZ5jwkprGyJvPO4neoWCSF4ohiYiXOV_9ahi-nCLGy0Vc_OYRy_Oebg=s0-d)
the museum had an exhibit about the artist Lynne Drexler, one of the Monhegan artists. Her, I loved. She is an abstract expressionist but also, as someone in the feature DVD about her that was playing as part of the exhibit put it, she was a colorist (not the hair care kind!). Her play, her invention and her "juxtaposition" to use one of those AWESOME words that always sound so pretentiously silly, however apt they may be, of color I loved a lot.
NYT Andrew Wyeth obit: