Susan Stephenson - here, there, everywhere

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S us a n Ste phe nson h e r e th e r e eve r y where

D ir e c tor ’s For ewor d

Susan Stephenson - here there everywhere is a chance to view the marvelous work of my colleague, Susan Stephenson. This is the first time I have had the opportunity to work with Susan on an exhibition of her work. I believe we are very fortunate to have her as a new colleague here in the Department of Art at Stanislaus State. Susan has a very active teaching and exhibition record and has created some of the most delightful paintings that I have had the privilege to view. This exhibition showcases Susan’s incredible talents for us to enjoy. I am very happy to be able to be part of this exhibition and to be able to share her work for others to enjoy. I would like to thank the many colleagues that have been instrumental in presenting this exhibition. Susan Stephenson for the opportunity of exhibiting her amazing work, David Olivant for his wonderful writing, the College of the Arts, California State University, Stanislaus for the catalog design and Parks Printing for the printing of this catalog. Many thanks are also extended to the Instructionally Related Activities Program of California State University, Stanislaus, as well as anonymous donors for the funding of the exhibition and catalogue. Their support is greatly appreciated.

Dean De Cocker, Gallery Director California State University, Stanislaus

End of Day, First and A, oil on panel, 12” x 24”, 2019


S us a n Ste p he nson here there ever ywhere Stan State Ar t Space, California State University, Stanislaus


Golden State and Olive, 4 Corners (Praxair), oil on panel, 12” x 12”, 2018


Su san Ste ph e n s o n

At a time of unprecedented visual abundance - when people can hold hundreds of photographs in a phone - I remain a steadfast oil painter, determined to continue my slow-cooked practice of working from direct observation as much as possible. Rather than turning my back on the contemporary world, I am responding to it in the most primal means I know. Everyday scenery is fodder for my paintings. Navigating a line between attraction and unease, I am torn between the lovely places that appeal to collectors and locations that some might find un-paintable. Traffic lights and stop signs inspire me, as does the way sunlight hits the “do not pass” lines in the road. Instead of pretending that electric lines are nonexistent, I use them to break the sky into visual patterns, letting them catch the light and become orange against the blue dome of the atmosphere. Every day, people are bombarded with chances to see beauty in the mundane yet sleepwalk past them. Rather than wait a hundred years for our culture to look back wistfully at some of the things we currently overlook, I prefer to show their beauty right now. Why wait? My easy relationship with curvilinear perspective is partly due to growing up in a geodesic dome. After twenty years of using the wraparound view, it now permeates my work automatically, and the spatial relationships of landscape define all of my work regardless of genre. I find it meditative to look for equilibrium among a work’s formal relationships and the visual cues from a particular location. As a result, balancing abstraction and reality has become one of my primary reasons for creating. Ultimately, I look for combinations of modern life and contemporary scenery that spark that peculiar blend of kooky and beautiful I find so compelling. BIO Best known for the panoramic oil paintings she develops from direct observation, Susan Stephenson uses scenery from her everyday life and transforms it through an exploration of color and light. A native of Louisiana, she received her BFA degree from Louisiana Tech University and her MFA degree from Boston University, where she studied with John Moore. After living in southern New England for over twenty years and teaching at the Lyme Academy College of Fine Arts, Stephenson now lives in California’s Central Valley and teaches in the Art Department of the California State University, Stanislaus.


here th e r e ev e r y w h er e by David Olivant

Susan Stephenson has worked for decades, mostly on the East Coast, producing an impressive body of predominantly plein air paintings. At first glance the works of Stephenson strike the casual viewer as typical, albeit sophisticated, realist fare in a tradition that might include artists such as Edward Hopper, Fairfield Porter and her own teacher John Moore. First glances tend to be clinchers with this type of work because somehow, where realism is involved, the ease of recognition seems to absolve us from further observation. I think this is something clearly in Susan’s mind when she paints and she uses the fact to unsettle us if only we have the patience to spend more time with her work. Of course the expectations that come with encountering direct observational painting have been systematically undermined and unpacked since Manet and have pretty rapidly devolved into mainstream abstract practices. But artists such as Stephenson are taking that act of unpacking very seriously and re-examining its implications in a way that Manet, in his hurry to create Modernism, had no time or patience for, and impatience for him might have been half the point! It seems improbable, but observational painting, which for the centuries between the Renaissance and the inception of Modernism, formed a kind of default practice in Western Art must now be the subject of an apologetics by the wouldbe critic or practitioner. Blame the invention of photography, blame Cezanne, or Marcel Duchamp, carry the lament all the way to post-structuralist posturing, but systematically, not only the idea of studying observable visual phenomena, but visuality itself, have almost become taboo in principle in contemporary practice. Evidence is available in the form of course work offered in programs of graduate study, the artists profiled in cutting edge art magazines and the standard fodder of international art fairs. So, how does one account for the fact that painting and drawing from the observed motif still forms the staple practice of most college art department foundation courses and often continues into upper division work as well? Stephenson has spent most of her career teaching in institutions that promote this and where her outlook is clearly well aligned to such a pedagogical norm. It is however interesting to note that she has left the Lyme Academy where she taught for 22 years for the broader outlook of the Art Department at Stanislaus State, albeit an outlook that still embraces working from observation as a foundational practice, but at least where a spectrum of alternative processes are also a central complement of studio curriculum. Realism, has of course staged some serious comebacks in the last hundred years, one thinks of the Neue Sachlichkeit painters of Weimar Germany, the US photorealists of the late 60’s and early 70s and oddball and, in my opinion, overrated artists like Philip Pearlstein, and the British “Euston Road” neo classicism as performed by Gowing and Coldstream and later but better by Uglow which ruined the Royal Academy Schools and a number of London art colleges from 1970 until about 1990. At the same time it should be noted that artists such as Stanley Spencer and Lucian Freud revitalized realist practice to new expressive purposes, but their work takes us a long way from the subject of this essay, the paintings of Susan Stephenson. If we probe just beneath the surface of art mega-stardom and the cultural tourism in which it seems enmeshed, acknowledging in the process that the blue chip market filters fail to exclude authentic painters of the ilk of Neo Rauch or Marlene Dumas, to name just two, we quickly encounter a ‘second level’ of serious, dedicated artists who typically


pursue their task in the relative obscurity of a college teaching position. These painters, and Stephenson is one, instead of frantically seeking out virgin painterly territory to explore, work seams left neglected by previous pioneers and do so in a way that suggests such neglect was premature. One could argue that an alternative history of recent art that includes such artists could be written and such indeed is a part of the project of Donald Kuspit and his more polemical but equally gifted protégé Mark Van Proyen. Broadly they argue that corporate, financial and administrative interests have usurped serious criticism and created a museum and gallery culture that makes artworks into items of commercial exchange that reflect the agendas of these special interests. Both writers advocate for a number of artists they claim elude these agendas, but to me they seem less convincing in this than in their eloquent diagnosis of the cultural malaise. Exploring in some detail a couple of examples from Susan’s oeuvre we can see just how she reinvigorates what to some is a defunct practice. Take “Sunset, My California Backyard” 2018 - square format with the killer problem subject of “still life in front of window onto garden” previously worked to a frenzy of inventiveness by the likes of Picasso, Braque, Gris, and Matisse- to my knowledge Cezanne never attempted it. “So why go there?” I ask. Is Susan thinking she can redeploy the hard-won insights of those artists but within a more traditional style, thus enlarging Manet’s original project. Is she re-inserting herself into late 19th Century practice but with modernist hindsight? Not a bad idea…. Composition and subject are not making her task any easier, but that’s part of the point, I feel. As Susan says on her website: “I am torn between the lovely places that appeal to collectors and locations that some might find un-paintable”. That middle ground of half-shadow catching reflected light from the low winter

Sunset, My California Backyard, oil on panel, 24” x 24”, 2018

sun is composed of close-toned potted plants, somehow bereft of any obvious depth markers for the viewer as the ground on which they are placed is for most of its extent obscured by the horizontal far edge of the table, itself painted in intense pale cobalt a dazzling reflection of the sunny California sky, represented more mutedly at the panel’s northern edge. It is only the loop of garden hose and the narrow section of dull patio behind it that allows us to unpack the ground plane and reconfirm that the plants lie on the other side of the window whose existence is guaranteed only by the two vertical strips of framing that enclose the martini glasses on the painting’s eastern boundary. Notably there is no attempt to suggest reflections in this expanse of glass despite the abundance of reflections elsewhere in the painting. Within such uncertainty are plotted episodes of unexpectedly intimate and exquisite intensity. Some examples: the pale yellow triangle of sunlight that allows the dark potted-plant leaves to be suddenly profiled by contrast on the Western edge; the coincidence of contour where the tallest of the leaves reaches upward to just touch the vertical fence joist; and then there is that totally peculiar passage under the table and running the entire width of the picture’s southern


limit where we come to realize that much of the effect of this painting comes from the almost total occlusion of any ground plane. With that we also notice that the almost iridescent, improbably elliptical bowl (how do ellipses come off in curvilinear perspective?) with the olives on it actually seems to protrude, in thrillingly trompe l’oeil manner, into our own space and beyond the front of the picture plane, picking up on a tradition started with that ragged elbow in Caravaggio’s “Supper at Emmaus” in the National Gallery in London. So much for episodes, but how do they hang together? Looking more globally we notice how this lighting and composition are rigorously clamped together in a structure that, as a working blueprint, seems singularly unpromising, quotidian, off the cuff, things that most of the color expanses will do little to relieve - see the drab black-violet fence shadow offset by olive green and rust where the sun half catches it or the grey browns of the front of the table top. Nothing bodes really well. Of course this kind of thing was a big part of Manet’s game-plan, as mentioned. So stay with it for a while, don’t drift away, keep looking. That stretch of fencing catching the glancing sunlight, gently curved by the nature of the picture’s overall perspective, looms forebodingly over the table top, a less-than-gentle reminder of mild suburban blight. The potted plants seem to form a kind of transition between the implacability of this barrier and the tenuous brightness of the home’s interior as represented by the items arranged on the tabletop, where a tour de force of repeated colored ellipses works its considerable magic. In the orange fruit bowl with its surreal handles and the olive plate we have the two largest ellipses in the painting and the area of greatest chromatic contrast. The use of orange tempered by blue-greens on the bowl’s outer surface echoes in a brighter key the stifled harmonies of the fencing and to this extent feels redemptive, if I may be permitted such a word in the context of a still life! Flatter ellipses are served up in the twin martini glasses where we are given the painting’s most extreme value contrast in what seems a fusion of Manet with Wayne Thiebaud. Porch Pomodoro, oil on panel, 48” x 24”, 2014

The ellipse motif is a natural extension of the curved perspective, which seems to recoil at the insistence of so many verticals and hori-

zontals or the squareness of the panel. The tabletop’s lower edge thus forms a dark violet/brown curve that bisects the southern edge of the painting and this itself is awkwardly balanced on the curious section of yellow ellipse at the painting’s lower termination. The abiding unsettling mood of this pictorial structure is derived from a fusion of harsh adamantine compositional gambits and an underlying sense of fragility and imminent collapse, possibly synchronized with the sun’s impending descent below the winter horizon. The role of reflective surfaces within this structure could form the subject of further lengthy speculation but enough to say that, as well as seeming to dematerialize the objects they enfold, these


surfaces also serve to partially redistribute the panel’s motifs, most significantly in bringing elements of the outside to the interior, thus further instantiating the hints at narrative that such a composition suggests. To the artist’s credit any sense of such narrative relies only slightly on the nature of the depicted motifs and much more on the structural and compositional contradictions. As Stephenson rather modestly puts it “balancing abstraction and reality has become one of my primary reasons for creating.” There is also an implied narrative of absence as the still life items seem very much part of an intended imminent human usage and the position of the front edge of the table invites the viewer themselves to be seated at it. Surveying further the pictures on display the show divides broadly into plein air landscapes and still lives in front of windows. One panel, “Porch Pomodoro”, the largest and earliest on display, fuses these two genres as the view beyond the window is spacious enough and suggests sufficient depth to qualify as a type of landscape in addition to being a rather lavish back yard. The almost aerial view of the still life reminds us of Bonnard while the landscape suggests the work of his near contemporary and friend Vuillard. Uniquely, within this exhibit, this panel also evokes a generally more affluent ambiance and hence largely avoids the more unsettling effects of the other panels on display. It comes as a slight shock that the landscapes in the exhibit are considerably smaller than the still lives. More importantly, there is a noticeable divergence from the painterly technique of the former. The scale has encouraged a mosaic-like, almost miniaturist technique, further enhanced by the relatively tiny scale of the recognizable objects composing the scene. Trees on a horizon can consist of just a single brushstroke and a fire hydrant has been reduced to a single raw sienna cross-laid next to a tiny swatch of cadmium yellow. In “Life Signs, East Tuolumne” the mosaic theme is further

Life Signs, East Tuolumne, oil on panel, 10.5” x 10.5”, 2018

suggested through the way in which the horizontal cross beams - either plain or diagonally striped- of the group of traffic barriers on the southwestern edge of the panel become visually conflated with the muted horizontals of the landscape seen through and behind them. The entire length of the gently curved horizontal which spreads East from these barriers, crossing behind the water tower to take in sections of slumbering duct work and terminating at the tangerine excavator consists of a lively series of tiny high contrast blotches. These seem to alternate between their real-world function of providing the material foundations of another new housing estate on the suburban perimeters of Turlock CA and their painterly/abstract function of demarcating a horizontal stripe of tiny bright highly contrasting Morse code, itself the rear edge of a bowed scalene triangle, the other sides of which are formed by the wide strip of road at the panel’s southern edge and the previously mentioned cluster of traffic barriers, currently out of use. Set over and against the way in which such an almost jewel-like mosaic surface emphasizes the essential, resistant, flatness of the birch-wood support we notice a reinvention of single point perspective orchestrated by the dominant


water tank seen almost entirely above the horizon line and pointing to a vanishing point somewhere between its legs (supposing it were a hexapod). The two main supporting players are the diagonal shadow pointing the same way as the water tank and emanating from the panel’s southwest corner and the shallow, dark trench in the road emanating from the southeast corner which, while it fails to meet the vanishing point by a considerable margin, still points us in the direction of our hexapod water tower. The inverted pyramid of ultramarine sky whose apex terminates at the center of the water tower reinforces this sense of parallel lines - this time from above the eye-level - converging on a distant point. I’m guessing that this propensity to fracture the sky into distinct shapes derives from Susan’s practice, observable in many other panels of this exhibit, of deploying the natural way that electric cables divide the blueness as the cue to variegating the otherwise potentially monotonous, azure flatness. It occurs to dramatic effect in “Hay on Barnhart” where the device isolates and highlights the top section of the electric pole before swooping almost vertically to that pole’s tiny distant neighbor tethering the painting’s topmost distinct landmark to its low lying vanishing point. Deployed tellingly in “Sunshine at the Westerly Airport” the same device creates the opportunity to section areas of deep cornflower blue between the aluminum uprights and lateral top wires of the airfield’s perimeter. Despite these apparently binding architectonics, the choice of subject, essentially a building site, a “work in progress”, might be a metaphor for Stephenson’s engagement with the art of painting and its intimidating traditional exemplars and for her continued insistence on grappling with some of the most unpropitious or overlooked subjects her immediate surroundings have to offer. This is heroic in the most unassuming manner. Susan’s tenacity in extracting from the apparent ugliness of industrial farmland, the blight of depleted commuHay on Barnhart, oil on panel, 12” x 12”, 2018

nities, the detritus of the I-99 corridor such poignant visual poetry, is matched only by her patient reexamina-

tion of the art of observational painting in its most basic but most vital terms. Painted on the same size and format but in considerably brighter colors, is “Palms of A Street” which carries variations on similar themes to “Life Signs, East Tuolumne”. In this composition the geometry and vertical divisions across the panel are more insistent and they tend to focus attention on the surface and reduce depth. This tenacious flatness is made tougher to mitigate by the fact that most of the action occurs in the lower quarter of the panel, the remainder being occupied by a flat, Central Valley summer sky except for the four palm trees that bridge these two sections and which also serve to divide the painting into two unequal vertical halves. While the value structure and lighting are very different, it is a format reminiscent of Vermeer’s “View of Delft”, the more so because of the jewel-like application of color patches. When we further consider that the lower half of this lower quarter is occupied by the relatively innocuous surfaces of road and sidewalk we realize that most of the painting’s activity - the contrast of hue and value - is limited to a horizontal sliver which occupies about one eight of the panel’s surface.


Clearly this sliver merits greater examination. It is divided exactly in two by the leftmost vertical edge of the radiant, flesh-colored building façade that stretches across most of the right side of the sliver. This façade with its four triangular gable ends almost parallel to the picture surface stubbornly blocks any depth recession as does the other more muted side wall of the building situated on the left end of this same sliver. This leaves only the tiny patch at right boundary of the painting where we notice a railroad crossing and the section between palms three and four (counting from the left) to puncture this obdurate wall of flatness. The painting would be all but “impossible” without these and to undertake such a compositional gambit is audacious almost to the point of recklessness, but Susan makes it work and it is so much more compelling, again because it wrestles such poignancy from such impoverishment of depth markers. So now we can focus our attentions even more finely on these two critical spaces which between them have to rescue the entire venture from collapse into formal abstraction. Each moves towards an opposite vanishing point, the eastern most being well outside of the picture. The Eastern space forms a rhomboid defined by the electricity pole to the right, its wire under which the sky forms its darkest section, the easternmost edge of the panel and the line where the side of the building meets the ground. It forms a tiny picture within the larger picture and permits a sudden but unexpected depth recession. For the attuned viewer this creates a blocked climax, a staple of Wagner’s music, or a truncated sense of relief because we know that most of the recession continues well beyond the panel’s edge. The leftmost critical space, closer to the panel’s center, frustrates us in different ways because the recession is built through the layering of summer foliage but simultaneously frustrated through the tiny pthalo blue square (the single brightest hue in the painting), the dull blue rectangle of signage to its upper right and the similarly sized blotchy hexagon of the stop sign form,

Palms of A Street, oil on panel, 12” x 12”, 2018

which between them an implied, diagonal line parallel to the picture surface. There is something about the insistent flatness of this composition that captures the sense that the buildings and cityscapes of Turlock and surrounding small towns, with unpropitious names like Hickman, seem defiantly bland almost to the point of hostility, especially set against the unrelenting flatness of the hot, cloudless August sky. The aggressive, uncompromising way in which the rear façade of Scandia Village reflects the sunlight in our faces aggravates this further. It might be glib to suggest that such banality is redeemed by its translation into the mosaic-like geometry of Stephenson’s luminous panels. More accurate is the suggestion that the hint of such redemption must be sought out, salvaged almost, and only through navigating the painterly problems in which it finds an ultimate embodiment. There are no simple solutions in Stephenson’s art, and the politics of suburban blight is translated into a contemplation of the ultimate nature of visual beauty and how elusive and precarious it can be and how it must be discovered afresh in a fusion of “abstraction and reality”.



Golden Flight, oil on panel, 6” x 12”, 2018


Sunshine at the Westerly Airport, oil on panel, 12” x 12”, 2018


Palms of A Street, oil on panel, 12” x 12”, 2018


Life Signs, East Tuolumne, oil on panel, 10.5” x 10.5”, 2018


Hay on Barnhart, oil on panel, 12” x 12”, 2018


Sunset, My California Backyard, oil on panel, 24” x 24”, 2018


Watching Late Afternoon Shadows, oil on panel, 24” x 24”, 2018


Autumn Light Changes Quickly, oil on panel, 24” x 12”, 2018


Porch Pomodoro, oil on panel, 48” x 24”, 2014


Studio Scene with Model, walnut ink on paper, 12� x 16�, 2015


Maureen in Walnut Ink, walnut ink on paper, 12� x 16�, 2017


Hillary and Chana, walnut ink on paper, 12” x 16”, 2015


Weir Studio Stacked Stools, walnut ink on paper, 16” x 12”, 2014


Nieko, walnut ink on paper, 9” x 6.5”, 2017


Ethan in the Sculpture Studio, walnut ink on paper, 11.5” x 11.5”, 2018


Ethan Seated, walnut ink on paper, 11.5” x 11.5”, 2018


Pool Study, walnut ink on paper, 8” x 10”, 2018


S us a n Ste phe nson

EDUCATION 1992 1990

Boston University Master of Fine Arts, Painting Studied with John Moore NAN Award Louisiana Tech University Bachelor of Fine Arts, Studio Art - Painting Summa cum laude Phi Kappa Phi

TEACHING 2017 – present: California State University, Stanislaus, Assistant Professor 1995 – 2017: Lyme Academy College of Fine Arts, Associate Professor SELECT SOLO EXHIBITIONS 2019

here there everywhere, Stan State Art Space, Turlock, CA.


Susan Stephenson, Cate Charles Gallery, Providence, RI.


Susan Stephenson, Imago Gallery, Warren, RI.


Susan Stephenson: Inside – Out, Stonington Vineyards Gallery, Stonington, CT.


Recent Paintings, South College, University of Massachusetts, Amherst, MA.


Recent Works, Stonington Vineyards Gallery, Stonington, CT.


Recent Paintings, Stonington Vineyards Gallery, Stonington, CT.

SELECT GROUP EXHIBITIONS 2018 Drawing from Perception VIII, Robert and Elaine Stein Galleries, Wright State, University, Dayton, OH. Catherine Kehoe, curator. 2017

The Mind’s I, Dalton Warehouse, Los Angeles, CA. Anne Harris, curator.

Stanislaus State Art Faculty Exhibition 2017, University Art Gallery, CSU Stanislaus, Turlock, CA.

Conversations: Studio & Table, The Joseph A. Fiore Art Center, Jefferson, ME. David Dewey, curator. 2016 LYME.TEACH.DO/ STUDIO_FACULTY_EXHIBITION_2016, Stillman Gallery, Lyme Academy College of Fine Arts, Old Lyme, CT.


Endless Summer, Cate Charles Gallery, Westerly Land Trust, Westerly, RI.


Eclecticism, Cate Charles Gallery, Providence, RI.


Doors of Perception: Hollis Dunlap, Nathan Lewis, and Susan Stephenson, Six Summit Gallery, Ivoryton, CT.


Faculty Exhibition, Stillman Gallery, Lyme Academy College of Fine Arts, Old Lyme, CT.


A Unique Perspective: Susan Stephenson and Deborah Randall, Cate Charles Gallery, Stonington, CT.


Contemporary Realism Biennial, Fort Wayne Museum of Art, Fort Wayne, IN.


The Landscape of Golf, Newport Art Museum, Newport, RI. Invitational.


LACFA at the Arnot Museum, Arnot Art Museum, Elmira, NY.

Urban Escape, City Lights Gallery, Bridgeport, CT.


Susan Stephenson: Color and Light, Masur Museum of Art, Monroe, LA.

Realism Now: Traditions and Departures, Vose Gallery, Boston, MA. Miami University Young Painters Competition, Hiestand Galleries, Miami University, Oxford, OH. 2002

BARE: Bringing Art to the Research Environment, Pfizer Central Research, Groton, CT.

Biennial 2002, Peninsula Fine Arts Center, Newport News, VA. Philip Pearlstein, Juror.


American Landscapes, MFA Circle Gallery, Maryland Federation of Art, Annapolis, MD. Gary Vikan, Juror


Paintings of the Griffis Art Center, Pfizer Central Research Division, Groton, CT.

1998 Figure Drawing in the Academy Tradition: 1890 – 1998, Lyme Academy College of Fine Arts, Old Lyme, CT. Deane G. Keller, curator. SELECTED AWARDS AND HONORS 2017

Artist in Residence: Ocean House Hotel, Watch Hill, RI.

Lecture/Demonstration: Maritime Gallery at the Mystic Seaport, Mystic, CT.


Lecture: Center for Creative Arts, Lyme Academy College of Fine Arts, Old Lyme, CT.


Artist in Residence: Loomis Chaffee School, Avon, CT, January 2014.


Creative Capital Workshop: Internet for Artists, Providence, RI, 2011.


Individual Painting Fellowship: Rhode Island State Council on the Arts.

Finalist: “Miami University Young Painters Competition,” Oxford, Ohio.


Fellowship: Faculty Travel Grant, Lyme Academy College of Fine Arts.


Artist in Residence: The Griffis Art Center, New London, Connecticut.


Artist in Residence: Association for Visual Artists, Chattanooga, Tennessee.

PERMANENT COLLECTIONS Masur Museum, Pfizer Central Research, The Griffis Art Center


Ackn ow le dge m en ts California State University, Stanislaus

Dr. Ellen Junn, President

Dr. Kimberly Greer, Provost/Vice President of Academic Affairs

Dr. James A. Tuedio, Dean, College of the Arts, Humanities and Social Sciences

Depar tment of Ar t

Dr. Carmen Robbin, Chair, Professor

Dean De Cocker, Professor

Martin Azevedo, Assistant Professor

Tricia Cooper, Lecturer

James Deitz, Lecturer

Daniel Edwards, Associate Professor

Jessica Gomula-Kruzic, Professor

Daniel Heskamp, Lecturer

Chad Hunter, Lecturer

David Olivant, Professor

Patrica Eshagh, Lecturer

Ellen Roehne, Lecturer

Dr. Staci Scheiwiller, Associate Professor

Susan Stephenson, Assistant Professor

Jake Weigel, Assistant Professor

Meg Broderick, Administrative Support Assistant II

Andrew Cain, Instructional Technician I

Jon Kithcart, Equipment Technician II

Stan State Ar t Space

Dean De Cocker, Director

Megan Hennes, Gallery Assistant

School of the Ar ts

Brad Peatross, Graphic Specialist II

Special Thanks California State University, Stanislaus, Art Department faculty and staff (with special thanks to David Olivant and

Bradley Peatross,) the Stan State Art Space gallery assistants, and photographer Jennifer Van, who documented all

paintings in this publication.

Susan Stephenson - here there everywhere January 28–February 23, 2019 | Stan State Art Space, California State University, Stanislaus | 226 N. First St., Turlock, CA 95380 300 copies printed. Copyright © 2019 California State University, Stanislaus • ISBN: 978-1-940753-38-6 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the publisher. This exhibition and catalog have been funded by Associated Students Instructionally Related Activities, California State University, Stanislaus.





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