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EXPEDITION CURATED BY JOHN NEWSOM Donald Baechler André Butzer Ann Craven Matt Dillon Inka Essenhigh Torben Giehler April Gornik Andy Hope 1930 Richard Jacobs Michael Kagan John McAllister John Newsom Erik Parker Raymond Pettibon Alexis Rockman Ouattara Watts Wendy White Brattleboro Museum & Art Center Brattleboro, Vermont June 19–October 11, 2021

FOREWORD danny lichtenfeld, director brattleboro museum & art center

For half a century beginning in 1916, travelers entered through the heavy oak-and-glass doors of the building that today houses the Brattleboro Museum & Art Center to embark on expeditions to destinations nearby and around the world. This was Brattleboro’s Union Station, and the gallery where EXPEDITION is on view was its grand lobby—a liminal space charged with the energy and anticipation of adventures just completed and those that lay ahead. For the past 50 years, the building has served as a portal for journeys of a different sort—those of the imagination, spirit, and intellect. Its two histories—first train station, then art museum— and the presence of those whose expeditions began or ended here are embedded in the space itself. They can be seen and felt in the original steps made from Vermont marble, in the time-worn terracotta-tiled floor, and in the streamlined architectural details that evoke an unmistakable sense of motion: We are here now, but not for long. We are on our way.

As I recall, John’s vision for EXPEDITION was nearly fully formed from the start. He rattled off the names of most of the artists he planned to include—an exciting, diverse group, many of whom had never shown in Vermont before. The exhibition would “depict aspects of venturing into unknown lands and territories,” he said, and I was sold. He had tapped into one of the things I love most about art and museums (and train stations, for that matter)— their ability to transport us to new realms. We had no way of knowing back in 2019 how powerfully many of us would be longing to go on a journey in the summer of 2021, following an unprecedented year of hunkering down and isolation. In that sense, EXPEDITION feels perfectly suited to this place and time. I hope you enjoy the trip. Brattleboro, Vermont March 2021

Through the first half of the 20th century, travelers making their way from Brattleboro up the Connecticut River Valley to Reading, Vermont, would have purchased tickets to Proctorsville or Woodstock at the window located alongside Wendy White’s fantastic installation, Double Rainbow (Multiple Levels). Once they reached their destination, if they were to time travel to the summer of 2019, they might find themselves at a festive gathering of artists, curators, and museum directors hosted by the Hall Art Foundation, our contemporary art neighbors to the north. That’s where John Newsom and I met, each of us enjoying a mini-expedition of our own, away from home, eyes and minds lifted above the everyday, open and attuned to new possibilities, ideas, and collaborations. We hit it off immediately.

EXPEDITION was made possible by a generous gift from Diana and Craig Levin, and Carolyn Thall and Aidan Finnan, in honor of Richard and Alice Thall.



An expedition can take place across a room or across the world, across the expanse of the mind or the technological web. It is a simple, profound and vast idea... to journey, to venture out. To discover the new is what we as painters strive for daily. We accomplish this by pushing the limits of our known perceptions and understanding of what we accept as safe, as home, as known iconography. It takes guts to move, to get up and out of place. To make the firm commitment to wield the brush, to toil around and celebrate in pigments that which cannot be described nor witnessed by mere everyday observation. This is the “call to adventure,” the starting point of inspiration and wonderment. The 17 painters in EXPEDITION heed that call and invite you to join them on their journeys, internal and external, as revealed not only by their paintings but also by their written reflections on what the idea of ‘expedition’ means to them. I am a painter, not a curator. As a painter organizing a group show of fellow painters, I try to offer viewers a glimpse into the thoughts and ideas I am currently focusing on in my own studio. Right now it’s all about expanding beyond the walls of the recent quarantine brought on by the pandemic. What better way to “break out” than by embarking on an expedition in the form of a group show? I was inspired early on by Perry Farrell, the lead singer of Jane’s Addiction, who organized the first Lollapalooza back in 1991. I was a student at Rhode Island School of Design at the time. My friends and I would go see rock shows at a great local venue called The Living Room. Jane’s Addiction, Fugazi, The Buzzcocks, Sonic Youth, The Pixies, Nine Inch Nails, Soundgarden, Red Hot Chili Peppers... we saw so many great bands of the era play there. When Farrell made the announcement that he was forming


Lollapalooza, he said his main motivation was to get a bunch of his friends’ bands together and rock out! Including his own. It was a new model for a festival. The energy was different. This wasn’t an events manager from a record label putting a market-driven lineup together. It was the lead singer of one of the wildest rock bands out there jamming with his friends. Because Farrell came to the project as a participant as much as an organizer, I dare say it added a certain level of authenticity to the whole dynamic. That made a huge impression on me, and it’s the model I use when I organize group shows. I include myself because I am a painter. The walls are the stage, and my band plays too. Back in 2007, my Los Angeles-based art dealer, Patrick Painter, suggested that I curate an exhibition at his Melrose gallery of the German painter Markus Lüpertz. That was my first foray into curating. It was a show of Lüpertz’s complete dithyrambic Tent Paintings. The experience was a real eye-opener for me in terms of what it meant to “conduct” the work of another painter, and for that I will always be grateful to Patrick. He understood how the experience of organizing the Lüpertz show would help broaden the scope of my own work. Patrick wanted to see my paintings expand and grow, and they did. The difference between a curator or a painter organizing an exhibition is like the difference between a film director or an actor directing a movie. A film director’s training and responsibilities typically extend into so many aspects of the creation of a film, including screenwriting, cinematography, editing, and more. An actor, on the other hand, focuses primarily on their character and method. They have different skill sets, passions, and expertise. The same is true of curators and painters.

When I watched Ben Affleck’s 2010 film The Town, I was blown away. Here was an established actor venturing out to direct a major motion picture with a high-powered ensemble cast and pulling it off with great success. The same can be said for Matt Dillon and his 2003 film City of Ghosts, which shows the depth and range of an actor’s understanding of the medium itself. Both Affleck and Dillon drew upon their experience as actors to elicit great performances from their co-stars and tell powerful stories. I have no doubt that their experiences as directors in turn informed their ongoing work as actors. It’s that way for me whenever I curate a show. I always take back something from the experience that I can use to strengthen whatever is going on in my studio, maturing the paintings and broadening the base. One of the sources of inspiration for EXPEDITION was the exhibition High Times, Hard Times: New York Painting, 1967-1975, organized by lCI (Independent Curators International) and curated by Katy Siegel with painter David Reed as advisor. I visited the exhibition at the National Academy Museum in New York in 2007. Featuring 40 works by 38 artists, it highlighted the formal concerns of painters working during a time of great social unrest—the late 60s and early 70s. It was very moving to see what these artists did in order to survive and continue to make their challenging work, without the infrastructure of the established gallery system. It was radical. Although many of the works in the show embodied the historic moment of civil strife through experimental means, I was amazed to see painting earning its rightful place among the prevailing mixed media works of the time. Artists such as Mel Bochner, Elizabeth Murray, Richard Tuttle, Al Loving, and Jack Whitten were among the many innovative artists presented and reexamined by Siegel and Reed. What I found so interesting was how painting moved, shifted, and

grew during that culturally fraught time... there was a beautiful and serious side to it that felt engaged with methods and approaches to the medium of painting itself. With EXPEDITION, I have made a conscious effort to present work that extends beyond politics during what I see as a similarly tumultuous time. The works I have selected reflect the wide variety of ways in which painters are responding to difficult circumstances and ultimately moving beyond those circumstances to a more peaceful and nurturing place. Amidst the current social unrest, it is the responsibility of today’s painters to maintain the inquiry of strong personal reflection in relation to the medium itself. In that sense, EXPEDITION is an offering to the current moment. We need to be reminded of our shared potential, avoid getting bogged down in the quagmire, and find creative inspiration and rejuvenation in art. We need to rediscover our natural world and processes, the real landscape of artistic thought and feeling, in order to bring to light a vision for a brighter future. EXPEDITION is dedicated in loving memory of my friend and early mentor Malcolm Morley. New York City March 2021


doNALd bAechLER B. 1956, hartford, connecticut lives and works in new york CITy

Walking Figure 2003-04 Cast bronze 120 x 87 x 16 inches Courtesy of Donald Baechler Studio

When I was starting out I traveled all the time, often for gallery shows, but just as often I traveled for research. In those preinternet decades I filled up two passports with visas and entry stamps. Always on the move, hunting and image-gathering, making art in hotel rooms and borrowed studios, vacation was a dirty word. I was working when I flew off, sometimes to random places, looking for ideas. Like many artists working today, a primary engagement of my practice has been an exploration of the world of existing images. More than the over-familiar emblems of classic Pop iconography, or the shared art historical legacy on display in any museum, I’ve found myself drawn to the more obscure corners of the pictorial universe. And in the decades before the internet brought it to our desktops, exploring that world meant poking around in dusty Rangoon bookshops, photographing drawings on toilet walls in Lisbon, or digging around in a dumpster for discarded kids’ drawings outside the public school on Avenue B. The need for constant pictorial provocation has brought me to a flea market on the outskirts of Benares, India, found me sorting through books in a market stall in Marrakech, or bidding on mystery-lots at a country auction near Bangor, Maine. And of course like any good explorer I’ve got the plunder to deal with. Plunder tends to be heavy, in my experience, so it’s a question of finding a cheap empty suitcase, and hoping the wheels don’t fall off before check-in.



ANdRE bUTzER B. 1973, stuttgart, germany lives and works in altadena, california

I can’t say I have ever thought of “expedition.” I have to say that I think there are other words pretty much nearby that I might prefer, like “journey,” “adventure,” “hike,” “path,” and so forth. To me and myself, “expedition” has some “natural science” taste and flavour, and I would prefer using the—at least to me—more philosophical vocabulary.

Untitled 2008 Graphite and watercolor on paper 82.5 x 114.25 inches Courtesy of Newsom Family Collection, New York



Deer Running in the Snow (after Courbet) 2006 Oil on canvas 60 x 48 inches Courtesy of Ann Craven Studio

ANN cRaVEN B. 1967, boston, massachusetts lives and works in new york CITy & cushing, maine

When I find myself painting en plein air, depicting the beauty of the natural world, my expedition into nature is not only literal but symbolic. I explore the relationship between man and environment. In 2017, at Southard Reid in London, I had my first show devoted to animal subjects. Animals 1997-2017 featured paintings of deer, cats, pandas, and birds, with imagery derived from an extensive photo archive, spanning printouts, digital sources, and direct observation. Painting in nature has always been fundamental to my practice. Also relevant here, as it was in Animals, I reference the 1973 science fiction film Soylent Green and its depiction of the perspective of a guardian of nature, demonstrating the film’s profound influence on me and my work. As evident in the title, Deer Running in the Snow (after Courbet) is inspired by Gustave Courbet and his 1857 work of the same name. I draw on Courbet’s imagery in some of my work, finding that his treatment of the outdoors lends itself to my more pastoral pictures. Though the two works share titles and subject matter, their symbolism ultimately differs. In Courbet’s works, the expedition was that of man—specifically the hunt for and killing of a stag, through which the hunter explores the cold and unforgiving wilderness to chase and defeat nature. For me, the idea of expedition relates to that of the animal, of nature and its ultimate triumph over man. My animals may be depicted as cute and kind, but they represent strength. Similar to Soylent Green, much of Courbet’s work focused on death and the triumph of man over nature. My works highlight a distinct absence of man, allowing animals to live and thrive without interference or duress. Deer Running in the Snow (after Courbet) 2006 Oil on canvas, 60 x 48 inches (c) Ann Craven Studio Image courtesy of the artist Photo of Ann Craven by Peter Halley



MATT dILloN B. 1964, NEW ROCHELLE, New York lives and works in new york CITy & ROME, ITALY

I tend to view the world through a cinematic lens, which is due in part to my profession, but the curiosity has always been there... and the love of drawing. The expedition starts for me with my earliest memories, lying on the rug staring at the leg of a TV console in my childhood apartment, or up at a bare light fixture on the ceiling. There were the Banana Splits on television— giant stuffed animals dancing and driving go carts, juxtaposed with painted cannibals running through the jungle. For me, stepping into the studio is a journey into the unknown. The studio can be my kitchen counter, a rooftop in Puglia, or the back of an airplane barf bag... but mostly it’s upstairs in the back of an old church in New York City. I tend to create problems that are unsolvable. The potential for failure is necessary. There is always more to discover in the mess. Bantu U references my informal education in the diaspora of African music, drawn from my record collection. Robert Farris Thompson the esteemed professor of African art from Yale University once told me, “Fake mambo, is better than no mambo.”

Bantu U 2019 Flashe on paper mounted on canvas 36 x 71 inches Courtesy of the artist



INKa EssENHIgH B. 1969, bellefonte, pENNSYLVANIA lives and works in new york CITy & st. george, mAINE

Truthfully, I don’t like to travel. I like the places I’ve traveled to and I can’t imagine not having gone, but I’ve noticed that when I’m traveling I’m also waiting for it to be over so I can get back to my “real” life, my life in the studio. The word “expedition,” to me, means that I’m open to uncertainty and I’m not in complete control. When I make a painting I set out with a general idea of what I want the painting to be about or what I want it to feel like. I might have a few words or a very quick sketch to remind me of exactly what that is. This is important because I don’t know exactly what the painting is going to look like: that’s what I’ll find out as I paint. It’s like having a destination but not knowing how you're going to get there. The destination can be anything, such as arriving at a feeling of deep peace or arriving into the midst of a great riot; or I might want my destination to be the feeling of fresh air on a mountain top. But what those experiences actually look like, even their colors and shapes, have yet to be discovered.

Blue Spruce and Waning Crescent Moon 2021 Enamel on canvas 40 x 30 inches Courtesy of the artist and Miles McEnery Gallery, New York, NY




Through my paintings, I try to understand and process our increasingly complex but also exciting digital world. The Matterhorn is the most iconic mountain of the Swiss Alps. Painting it continuously for years gives me the freedom to move away from its majestic shape and explore its surface, translating it into paint and texture. The multi-layered, transparent acrylic layers create pictorial abstract spaces in which one can navigate autonomously, as in a virtual reality simulation. I am interested in how we are moving between the real and virtual world. Painting helps me stay in the real world.

Floating Void 2020 Acrylic on canvas 63 x 53.125 inches Courtesy of the artist



ApRIL goRnIK B. 1953, CLEVELAND, OHIO lives and works in SAG HARBOR, New York

As part of a studio practice, “expedition” implies leaving a known space, virtually or physically, to bring back an enriched vision and an enlargement of psychic space. Although my expression has come from a myriad of different sources, some more derived from actual travel or adventure than others, it’s the interaction with my subconscious that substantiates it to become art. Going to Africa or going to a great museum can be an expedition. It’s a great term for the expansiveness necessary to making art.

Field 2019 Oil on linen 75 x 100 inches Courtesy of the artist and Miles McEnery Gallery, New York, NY



andy hope 1930 Birth date and location unknown lives and works in berlin, germany

Terminal Beach 2020 Acrylic on canvas 80 x 63 centimeters Courtesy of the artist and Galerie Guido W. Baudach

Terminal Beach (The limbo of paradise) The perception of a new adventure, the first page of a story. Titles like UNKNOWN, Myth of the Near Future, Method of Error or Terminal Beach are vehicles that go hand in hand with a certain practice of exploration. The implications of such a practice are in part questions about science (WEIRD SCIENCE-series)—but also the cultural processing of science in science fiction and other pop cultural genres, as well as the infinite space of modernity and its numerous parallel universes. The theoretical possibility of looking beyond the 'event horizon' could also be described as a starting point for a new 'outer space-voyage' of discovery into the UNKNOWN. Terminal Beach, inspired by a collection of short stories by J.G. Ballard with the same title, stands for such a practice and is a never realized project in which behind the tense surface of a paradisical phantasy lies a shattering reality of destruction and extinction. And when you have arrived at this place with a dreamlike beach, blooming mangroves, palm trees, singing statues and a light that looks like a digital filter—what will happen there? Which experiences will you take with you? Is it possible at all to survive this impossible place and if so, at what price? The sea (unconscious) probably defines the place—the structure that could be a spaceship looks like a floating shopping mall over the island. All factors together symbolize an image of unrestricted time and the inability to penetrate it. I wonder what the returnees would tell us after such a journey from a shore so far away that they could never be found.



RICHARd jacobs B. 1961, boston, massachusetts lives and works in putney, vermont

Jaipur Canyon Diptych 2013-17 Oil, acrylic, and dye on silkscreen and wood 96 x 96 inches Courtesy of the artist

I usually feel that my paintings reveal themselves separately from my life, but this work, Jaipur Canyon, is autobiographical in the sense that its evolution tracks specific personal experiences that span several years. The painting began in 2013 on an excursion to a remote area of Jaipur, India, where large-scale patterned fabrics are created. I watched the process with astonishment and was able to purchase some used eight-foot silk screens with peacock motifs. It wasn’t until 2015, at my studio in Putney, Vermont, that I tried to conquer the scale of this piece by stretching two of the screen images on wood panels and painting the surface in response to the material. However, after more than a year of frustration, I could not see a path to completing the diptych and abandoned it, raw and unresolved. In 2017, my wife Marianna and I embarked on an 18-day, 280mile rafting adventure through the Grand Canyon, guided by family and friends. Most mornings, at first light from our camps by the Colorado River, I painted small-scale abstract studies on paper, many of which contained an etched roller mark, inspired by the dangerous whitewater rapids we were rafting daily. During this expedition, our lives were fundamentally changed by the challenges and rewards of a pure wilderness experience, with extended contemplation of the magnificent awe and power of nature. When I returned to Vermont I was able to scale up the gesture of the rapids with a large printmaking tool and finish this painting with a massive white gesture that summed up the spirit and energy of the Canyon.



MIchAEL KAGAN B. 1980, VIRGINIA BEACH, VIRGINIA lives and works in brooklyn, ny

My work focuses on dramatic paintings of man pushing the limits of nature through technology and physical stamina. I’m most interested in depicting both the physical and emotional journeys that accompany explorers, from mountaineers to astronauts. I Will Always Be With You is based on an historical photograph of astronaut Gene Cernan, taken during the Apollo 17 expedition. Cernan was the eleventh person and, to date, the last to have stepped foot on the moon. My portraits rarely show the faces of the heroes, but rather show them mid-action. The act itself is more consequential than the man behind it.

I Will Always Be With You 2020 Oil on linen 40 x 30 inches Courtesy of the artist and Over the Influence



john mcallister B. 1973, slidell, louisiana lives and works in florence, maSSACHUSETTS

sonorous sway ringing 2020 Oil on canvas 60 x 44 inches Courtesy of Gerold and Jana Klauer, Vero Beach, Florida

We can hear the rustling leaves, the branches above creaking complaints along with jingled ramblings from a stream. The smell of wet soil and pine. Clouds boiling up over the crest. Twitterings, trills, and caw caw clamor. All the phenomena in a rousing chorus elicit our senses and announce their presence. This is the feeling of being present in a landscape. However, there is another competing sensation always present. One that overlays and filters all that we see and feel in nature. It’s the hundreds if not thousands of representations of landscape that fill the catalogs of our memory. Painting a landscape commingles these two forces: the experiential present and the internalized art historical past. The painter’s hand coordinates this expedition. Arranging what is seen and felt in two dimensions and three. The results are an idiosyncratic filtered landscape. This is the exploration taken by an artist. Setting out in two directions simultaneously. Wandering and wondering. Searching for this electric void that we can look at and into. Together with artists from every time period we set out to capture the landscape. The light hitting a surface in southern France a century ago, the bend of a weeping willow from an even more distant past, and the snow scented air of western Massachusetts felt today all lead the way on this journey. The result is a symphony of experiential truth, historical homage, and wild rampant invention. This is where our voyage leads. Always looking through what we have seen to see what we are seeing. The susurrus which surrounds us and the cold wind on our faces are felt and heard along with eyes that have sensed the tactile poetic musings of every painting painted. Every painting we see is experienced in the same way. We wander in with our shared experiences viewing what is experienced now. Here is where the expedition ends and begins again and again.



joHN NEwsoM B. 1970, hutchinson, kansas lives and works in new york city

In 2013, Raekwon of The Wu-Tang Clan approached me to ask if I would create the artwork for his solo album, Fly International Luxurious Art. I thought to myself, “If ever I were to do something like this it would be with Raekwon.” So we embarked together on what would become a two-year odyssey. I became Raekwon’s scribe, creating a large suite of drawings and related artworks while spending countless hours in The Metropolitan Museum of Art studying Ancient Greek, Asiatic, and Egyptian Art. During that same period, Raekwon was touring abroad with The Wu-Tang Clan in support of the 20th anniversary of the group’s first album, Enter the 36 Chambers. From time to time Rae would text me imagery to consider, which he would discover while on the road. I allowed this process to spill over into my actual studio practice and give inspiration to heightened examples of the standard iconography. I have always been interested in a type of expressive allegory, amplified states of expression within scale and gesture related to timeless themes of the natural world. Beasts—tigers, leopards, and panthers—began entering my works around 2014, a direct result of journeying through time and space with Raekwon. Some of my paintings at the time were approaching 15 feet in scale. The project was realized to the maximum. The beasts became a new visual vocabulary for me, which I now return to depending on the necessity or feeling of what the painting requires at the given time. The imagery itself became the treasure of the expedition.

Ancient Origin 2019 Oil on linen 66 x 46 inches Courtesy of Eileen S. Kaminsky Collection, New York



erik parker B. 1968, stuttgart, germany lives and works in brooklyn, ny

This is my first Tondo painting. I thought it would be interesting to get rid of the hard corners and to have a portal view. I started making landscapes because I liked the idea of escaping into a place I wanted to go. The idea was to create a consistent thread of work that is a breakaway, almost a voyage, and takes me away from my urban life to tropical, invented locations based loosely on random jpegs that I find desirable. To create my own landscape. I like the idea of when the sun is so bright that you’re blinded. My blues are stark against my reds. It’s like squinting without sunglasses. The Venezuelan painter Armando Reverón would squeeze his belt tight and put coconuts over his ears and paint white on white landscapes. That kind of inspired me to create my own version of that. Not so much how the paintings looked, but the lengths he went to to get the intensity of the light. Forcing tension upon himself with the belt and using the coconuts to block out the sound. In the end, I try not to think about this stuff too much. You don’t want to kill the magic.

Full circle Bay 2018 Acrylic on canvas 40-inch diameter Courtesy of Kramer Family Collection, New York



RAYMoNd pETTIbon B. 1957, tucson, arizona lives and works in new york city

Expeditions are planned, funded by empires, governments, trading companies, capital, Columbus, Magellan, Lewis ’n’ Clark, Hillary on Everest, etc. Wanderings are walking stoned into the desert— streets as wilderness. Or taking the family to the zoo, baseball park, or Disneyland. That’s a trip. Getting lost is another form of trip. Speed is a reality trip. Crashing is sleep or a death trip. Journey to the center of your mind is also a trip.

No Title (Who can? Does...) 2017 Graphite, ink, and acrylic on paper 45 x 91.25 inches Courtesy of the artist and David Zwirner No Title (He put his...) 1988 Ink on paper 17.5 x 11.25 inches Courtesy of the artist and David Zwirner




As a child, I wandered the endless halls of The American Museum of Natural History several times a month. My mother was employed as Margaret Mead’s secretary, and I would often wait in the museum after school for her to finish work. While waiting, I would embark on my own “expeditions,” traveling to far-off lands like the Amazon or New Guinea or traveling through time in the dinosaur halls. Today, I’m lucky enough to go to places like these—Madagascar, Tasmania and the Amazon—to celebrate and commemorate the natural worlds past, present, and future.

Mola Mola 2013 Acrylic on black paper 44 x 30 inches Courtesy of Carolina Nitsch Gallery



oUATTArA WATTs B. 1957, Abidjan, ivory coast lives and works in New York city

My vision is not limited to a country or a continent. It goes beyond borders and everything that can be found on a map. I paint the cosmos.

The Mad Masters 24 2005 Graphite and watercolor on paper 22 x 30 inches Courtesy of Eileen S. Kaminsky Collection, New York



wENDY WHITE B. 1971, deep river, connecticut lives and works in New York city

Double Rainbow (Multiple Levels) is a journey, perhaps into the wood-paneled basement of America’s psyche: a place to sit upon up-cycled denim (arguably the most quintessential American fabric), a place to lounge in nostalgia, and most importantly a platform on which to be transported to wherever the viewer’s accumulation of experiences may take them. Carved wood paneling reminiscent of an auto body shop or a 1970s den points to the forgotten art of boredom—idle doodling—as well as the desire to leave one’s mark, to simply say, “I was here.” Live plants indicate regeneration, fresh air, and the persistence of life. A double rainbow suspended from the ceiling seems to play the role of water source. Beneath everything, a trail of yellow leads the viewer into the work: an expedition guided by a primary color—liquid, optimistic, enduring sunshine.

Mockup of Double Rainbow (Multiple Levels) 2021 Dibond, rope, upcycled denim, wood, upholstery foam, wood paneling, live plants Dimensions variable Courtesy of the artist and Shulamit Nazarian, Los Angeles





Donald Baechler Walking Figure 2003-04 Cast bronze, 120 x 87 x 16 inches Courtesy of Donald Baechler Studio

Torben Giehler Floating Void 2020 Acrylic on canvas, 63 x 53.125 inches Courtesy of the artist

André Butzer Untitled 2008 Graphite and watercolor on paper, 82.5 x 114.25 inches Courtesy of Newsom Family Collection, New York

April Gornik Field 2019 Oil on linen, 75 x 100 inches Courtesy of the artist and Miles McEnery Gallery, New York, NY

Ann Craven Deer Running in the Snow (after Courbet) 2006 Oil on canvas, 60 x 48 inches Courtesy of Ann Craven Studio

Andy Hope 1930 Terminal Beach 2020 Acrylic on canvas, 80 x 63 centimeters Courtesy of the artist and Galerie Guido W. Baudach

Matt Dillon Bantu U 2019 Flashe on paper mounted on canvas, 36 x 71 inches Courtesy of the artist

Richard Jacobs Jaipur Canyon Diptych 2013-17 Oil, acrylic, and dye on silkscreen and wood, 96 x 96 inches Courtesy of the artist

Inka Essenhigh Blue Spruce and Waning Crescent Moon 2021 Enamel on canvas, 40 x 30 inches Courtesy of the artist and Miles McEnery Gallery, New York, NY

Michael Kagan I Will Always Be With You 2020 Oil on linen, 40 x 30 inches Courtesy of the artist and Over the Influence

John McAllister sonorous sway ringing 2020 Oil on canvas, 60 x 44 inches Courtesy of Gerold and Jana Klauer, Vero Beach, Florida

Alexis Rockman Mola Mola 2013 Acrylic on black paper, 44 x 30 inches Courtesy of Carolina Nitsch Gallery

John Newsom Ancient Origin 2019 Oil on linen, 66 x 46 inches Courtesy of Eileen S. Kaminsky Collection, New York

Ouattara Watts The Mad Masters 24 2005 Graphite and watercolor on paper, 22 x 30 inches Courtesy of Eileen S. Kaminsky Collection, New York

Erik Parker Full circle Bay 2018 Acrylic on canvas, 40-inch diameter Courtesy of Kramer Family Collection, New York

Wendy White Double Rainbow (Multiple Levels) 2021 Dibond, rope, upcycled denim, wood, upholstery foam, wood paneling, live plants; Dimensions variable Courtesy of the artist and Shulamit Nazarian, Los Angeles

Raymond Pettibon No Title (Who can? Does...) 2017 Graphite, ink, and acrylic on paper, 45 x 91.25 inches Courtesy of the artist and David Zwirner Raymond Pettibon No Title (He put his...) 1988 Ink on paper, 17.5 x 11.25 inches Courtesy of the artist and David Zwirner


BRATTLEBORO MUSEUM & ART CENTER share art. share ideas. share humanity.

The Brattleboro Museum & Art Center (BMAC) was founded in 1972 by two groups of local citizens committed to saving their town’s historic train station from the wrecking ball. One group wanted to transform the former Union Station into a museum of local history, the other into a center for art classes and exhibitions. They agreed to work together, and BMAC was born. Following months of laborious cleaning and restoration done by scores of volunteers, the newly fledged institution opened its doors to the public on September 10, 1972. One side of the former train station lobby contained display cases featuring historical artifacts, the other an exhibition of new artwork by Wolf Kahn, David Rohn, and other local luminaries. Legendary Vermont folk musician Margaret MacArthur sang and played lap dulcimer. Fast forward nearly 50 years, and today BMAC is a non-collecting contemporary art museum focused on the work of living artists. An anchor of southern Vermont’s vibrant cultural life, BMAC brings notable art and artists to Brattleboro and continues to provide a platform for the region’s many artistic riches.


First Edition © 2021 Brattleboro Museum & Art Center All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Convention. Except for legitimate excerpts customary in review or scholarly publications, no part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or information storage or retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher. Published by the Brattleboro Museum & Art Center 10 Vernon Street, Brattleboro VT 05301 www.brattleboromuseum.org Printed in Dalton, Mass., by The Studley Press ISBN: 978-0-578-91358-2 Cover: John McAllister, sonorous sway ringing (detail) 2020, oil on canvas, 60 x 44 inches Courtesy of Gerold and Jana Klauer, Vero Beach, Florida Photography credits: Donald Baechler (6) by Daniel Oh André Butzer (8) courtesy of the André Butzer Archive Ann Craven (10) by Peter Halley Matt Dillon (12) by Jacobo Braun Andy Hope 1930 (20) by Juli Susin Andy Hope 1930 artwork (21) by Roman März Michael Kagan artwork (25) by Adam Reich John McAllister (26) by Sylvie McAllister John Newsom (28) by Luke Newsom Erik Parker (30) by Austin McManus Erik Parker artwork (31) by Farzad Owrang Raymond Pettibon (32) by Jason Schmidt, courtesy of David Zwirner Ouattara Watts (36) RobertBanat.com Wendy White (38) by Alex M. Smith Special thanks to Madeline Bergstrom and Sarah Freeman for their outstanding work in making EXPEDITION a reality—both the exhibition itself and this publication. 43