Easel to the Eastern Shore; notes from the Waterfowl Festival

Magic in the Mist, Oil, 40 × 30, Oil Sold

I was in the beautiful Frampton Building with great company and amazing light.

Dear friends,

This past weekend I had the honor of showing my artwork at the Historic Waterfowl Festival in Easton, Maryland. The Festival is a beloved celebration of ducks, decoys, birds of all allegiances, and every version of Labrador Retriever known. Imagine an art show transposed upon a Norman Rockwell painting, where cobblestone sidewalks are lined with antique shops and art galleries. Friends, neighbors, and visitors from near and far meander shoulder to shoulder, eating crab cakes and corn chowder, some discussing the migratory patterns of canvasbacks, others on the hunt for a six foot bronze casting of a Grey Heron, and all of them being lovingly pulled along by a dog. Retrievers are preferred, but not a requirement to enter. It's Crufts of the Chesapeake here, with pooches representing all ages, weights, colors, and temperaments, some decked out in Camo, others in knits with fur colors (yes, we’re still talking about the dogs). And art. So much art. This is the Waterfowl Festival.

But how did I end up there? Good Question. As many of you know, I do not paint waterfowl. I don’t paint birds of any stripe. I paint landscapes, mostly on location, or as we say when we are feeling French, “en plein air.” Add birds? I could, but I generally have my hands full just getting gist of a place while dodging sunburn and ticks. Still, my artist friends, veterans of the event, suggested that the art committee wanted to broaden their offerings. So, I applied, was accepted, and said yes, because who turns down a prestigious invitation, even if you don’t know your mallards from your mud hens? I am teachable I thought—I can learn.

Here Comes the Sun, Oil, 18 x 24, (24 x 30) Framed, $1,600, Available

And reader, it was a triumph. My landscapes held their own, even in a room dominated by nature art of the highest caliber. I sold eight paintings, and absolutely none of them featured birds, retrievers, or crustaceans. And I did learn—I was gifted an education in duck decoy carving, collecting, and critiquing. I learned about the lineage of legendary carvers, and was astonished at this world within a world that I knew so little about. I learned that these beautifully carved birds can fetch tens of thousands of dollars. Six figures, even. Entire college educations, whittled into wood. These artists are extraordinary, and their passion is deep and generational. I gained a genuine appreciation for the art form, feeling both out of place and entirely at home—an honorary member of the great American waterfowl art tradition, sans camo.

But the dogs—oh, the dogs. I cannot overstate the presence of dogs here. Did I mention the hunting and retrieving exhibitions, including the famous competitions where Labradors take dramatic, cinematic leaps off docks, vying for prizes in height and distance? The dogs were fearless, oblivious to the cold, and performed feats part Cirque du Soleil and part track and field. Between events, these canine athletes wandered the streets, tails wagging, handlers beaming, occasionally pausing to tug their people into the art venues to exchange slobbery kisses for a pat on the head. I think my sweet goober Jake would have loved it there, as he is a true “dog’s dog.” He would have had zero interest in the cold plunge sports, but would have loved the lobster rolls.

Studio Assistant, such a good boy, my Jake - more a pointer than retriever

Finally Fall, Oil, 16 x 20, (22 x 26 framed) $950, Available

Festival Field Notes

I didn't personally leap off any docks, but I did have a few certified jump scares. No one warned me about the duck calls. Let’s start there. While chatting about my work with a visitor, a very, very loud duck exploded onto the scene, screaming its arrival. Not a polite quack, but the ruckus a duck might make when confronted by prey, or perhaps one of those athletic labradors. I had a brief, but memorable out of body experience. Obviously, (to everyone but me) this was a cellphone ringtone. I was only a little more prepared when it happened the next time…and the next. By the end of the weekend though, I was an old hat, and barely flinched when it happened the twenty seventh time. The volunteers and staff who run this event were extraordinary on a daily basis, and did not judge my naivete. Helpful, supportive, welcoming me as a newbie like a member of the family. Good people, making a wonderful event spectacular.

Colorful Cove, 20 × 16, Oil, (27 × 23 Framed) $950, Available

A Few Paintings Still Looking for a Home

All in all, it was a beautiful weekend, abundant with new friends and connections that will enrich my life and studio practice well beyond the festival. I was inspired, energized, and motivated to even consider the occasional bird in my landscapes. Thankfully, many pieces went to their forever homes, but some of my favorites did not find their people this weekend. Sunflowers, farm scenes, and local landscapes painted in the light I adore, they’re still with me, patiently waiting. I thought these four especially would be among the first to go—but art has its own mysterious matchmaking process, impossible to predict. With the holidays approaching, these paintings would make wonderful gifts—either to someone you love or, if you’re feeling particularly festive, to yourself. I’ve included details, please email me if you would like to know more.

Rise and Shine, Oil, 16 × 12, (23 × 19 Framed) $625 Available

Moving on from Waterfowl, amidst the changing colors and light, and on the cusp of Thanksgiving, I am reminded that for everything there is a season. A season to celebrate the birds, and a season to dress and stuff those birds. A season to laugh, a season to cry, a season to start a painting, and a season to throw that painting in the trash. More about that next time!

Happy Holidays and Blessings to all,

Chris