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Boston Globe
27-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
The exuberant work of an artist who lived in her husband's shadow shines at the Addison
From left: June Leaf, "Shooting from the Heart," 1980; Robert Frank, "June's Hand and Sculpture, Mabou," circa 1980. Frank E. Graham/Tim Nighswander Words matter as much as things in 'June Leaf: Shooting from the Heart,' the exhibition's proper title and as good a teaser of Leaf's prodigious output as you'll find. It's also the title of a small 1980 sculptural work here, a ragged profile-in-tin silhouette of a woman in spiked heels, leaning precariously forward into the unknown, and loving it. Words are important largely because the exhibition cannily uses so many of the artist's own throughout its display, vignettes of thought and feeling about works they're attached to. I don't know if I've ever been as drawn to read an exhibition as much as look at it, but from the first few phrases you encounter, you're hooked; Leaf, in her own words, is irresistible. Advertisement Installation view of "June Leaf: Shooting from the Heart" at the Addison Gallery of American Art. Julia Featheringill 'The problem is what do you do when there aren't any angels around?' reads the text panel next to 'On the Pain of Growing a Wing,' 2016, a stirringly visceral charcoal drawing of three human figures shrouded in a gestural fury of ash-black swiped violently on paper. 'As soon as I put my brush to the canvas they're not there at all, ever, it's just when I hear that little tap of the brush. It comes, that part, like music.' Lovely. Advertisement Another out-of-the-blue wonder: 'They are about the pleasures of focusing and not being distracted,' she wrote of 'Glasses,' 2003, a pair of spectacles, slight and wiry, with long cones tapering away from the lenses. Another set she made was fitted with mirrors, 'so you only see what is behind you. … Who needs to paint? Who needs to take photographs? You can just go around loving everything.' June Leaf, 'On the Pain of Growing a Wing,' 2016. Murray Whyte/Boston Globe Not to put myself out of a job, but I'd actually prefer you to just read the show yourself, piece by piece, word by word. But maybe I can provide some connective tissue for Leaf's intoxicating verbal adventures. Leaf, who died just last year at the age of 94, was a heartfelt polymath bursting with feeling. Her deeply humane work — figurative, narrative, personal — began in 1950s Chicago, as the dominant strain of American art began to bend toward the abstract and esoteric. As she matured into the 1960s, conceptualism took hold, making her a tough fit with the reigning ethic, cerebral and bloodless as it was. And, she was a woman — no small thing in a field dominated by men. 'Woman Machine,' a small 1951 collage here with three curvaceous female forms, semi-abstract and awash in muddy earthtones like a feminine version of Cubism, is a touchstone for all else here, I thought. 'An artist is given one thing in life to do,' are Leaf's words alongside it; 'mine was to recognize that so much of what my life was about was the love of women.' Advertisement Installation view of "June Leaf: Shooting from the Heart" at the Addison Gallery of American Art. Julia Featheringill A hard path in a male-dominated realm, to be sure. But for Leaf, it was no choice at all. She had ridden alongside the American avant-garde with her husband, Robert Frank, the iconic documentary photographer whose 1958 book, 'The Americans,' endures as a totem of the form. Frank, a Swiss immigrant, famously set out on a nation-spanning road trip in the mid-1950s, photographing an America post-World War II and pre-civil rights. His work, unflinching in its truth-telling, captured an uneasy nation riven with inequities — racial, social, economic — amid the sunny postwar optimism that still dominates nostalgia of the era. In New York, Frank fell in with beat poets like Jack Kerouac and Alan Ginsberg, . (Frank died in 2019.) In the midst of her husband's expanding notoriety, Leaf did what she always did: She worked, all day, every day, the spring-coil inside her propelling her into new experiments moment to moment. 'Shooting from the Heart' is disorienting in its material breadth, to the point of confounding. Advertisement June Leaf, "Ascension of Pig Lady," 1968, installed in "June Leaf: Shooting from the Heart" at the Addison Gallery of American Art. Julia Featheringill Huge dioramas like 'Ascension of Pig Lady,' 1968, with its life-size figures cobbled from wood and tin and festooned in bright paint and oil stick, speak to Leaf's penchant for the theatrical; dozens of urgent, made-in-moments charcoal and pastel drawings — rough and visceral, like loose thoughts crash landing on paper — reveal the intimate process of an artist living in the immediate now. Paintings, some vast, some minute, reveal a certain restlessness: 'Marat Sade Ballroom,' 1966, big, expressive and raw, meaty gorgons astride toy horses in an opulent ballroom, a scene of decadent rot; 'Arcade Women,' 1956, is its opposite, strict and grid-like, with its figures imprisoned by taut structural lines. June Leaf, "White Scroll with Dancing Figures," 2008. © The Estate of June Leaf. Johan Vipper Sculptures, though, 'are my love affairs,' she wrote. And with this, where to begin? She created everything from tiny, intricate dioramas and scenes (a dizzying, intricate mirror-box version of Vermeer's 'Gentleman and Lady') to bolts of tin and steel, sparse and minimal, that seem to capture a single gesture ('To the Sky,' 2022, a spiral of steel stretching 8 and a half feet high, seems like the spring itself that propelled her forth). She made working spools hand-drawn with narrative scenes, meant to be hand-cranked; she crafted women warriors from bent and rusted window screen, spear-wielding and ready for battle. Whatever material, medium, or idea, the wonders are endless; making for Leaf was ever and all. A 2019 video of her here, 'The Life With Others,' is a joy. In fact, the show would feel incomplete without it. It shows Leaf, by then in her 90s, toiling in her studio in the tiny Nova Scotia village of Mabou, where she and Frank moved in the 1970s. 'I have a painting from 1965 I still work on,' she says. 'I could take it out now and work on it.' For Leaf, art was a continuum, not a procedure of finished product. Nothing was ever over, which was how she liked it. Advertisement Film still from 'The Life With Others," 2019. Roman Chalupnik I think it's telling that Frank is not mentioned by full name anywhere in the exhibition. He appears only once in her work here, at least by my count, in 'Robert Carrying Wood,' an expressive 1973 painting of a dissembling landscape overlaid with a shaky spiderweb. A small black-and-white Polaroid of Frank in that very act is stuck to the paper with paint. 'Shooting From The Heart,' bursting with warmth and charm, is as much an effort to pull Leaf out from Frank's shadow as it is to acknowledge her supercharged, uncategorizable oeuvre itself. Leaf, as usual, puts it best herself: 'I must have done something right in my long life as an artist,' she wrote not long ago, 'because the wind is behind me.' It was, and she did. JUNE LEAF: SHOOTING FROM THE HEART Through July 31. Addison Gallery of American Art at Phillips Academy, 3 Chapel Ave., Andover. 978-749-4015, Murray Whyte can be reached at
Boston Globe
02-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
Two-fers: At the Addison Gallery, pairs populate the pictures
Diane Arbus, "Identical Twins, Cathleen (l.) and Colleen, members of a twin club in New Jersey," 1966. Addison Gallery of American Art Advertisement There's also the most consequential photographic name of all: Anonymous. A display case contains a selection of nearly 100 snapshots and postcards They're a show unto themselves: black-and-white and color; most posed, but not all. There are photo-booth shots, a heart-shaped picture, another with the face of the woman in it torn out. (Absence does not make the two shot grow fonder.) A few are even pretty high concept, such as Richard and Pat Nixon being seen on a television screen. Advertisement Hans Namuth, "Jackson and Lee Pollock," 1950. Addison Gallery of American Art Populating 'Dynamic Duos' are siblings, parents, parent and child, perfect strangers — imperfect strangers, too — and couples. Some of those, like the Nixons, are husband and wife. The body language in Hans Namuth's joint portrait of Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner doesn't exactly need a marriage counselor to interpret it. (Talk about people in a two shot ignoring each other!) The then-married Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman don't seem all that much more simpatico in Jonathan Becker's shot of them at the 2000 Vanity Fair Oscar party. A wall text quotes Louisa May Alcott: 'It takes two flints to make a fire.' Or make a fight, as when Neil Leifer captured one of the most electric images of the 20th century. Since the dominant figure in it is one of the century's most electric personalities, Muhammad Ali (or, as he then was, Cassius Clay), it's easy to overlook that it's a two shot. The reason Ali stands exultant in triumph is that Sonny Liston lies on the canvas before him, the embodiment of anti-triumph. Neil Leifer, "Ali-Liston, First Round Knockout, Lewiston, Maine," 1965. Addison Gallery of American Art Ali dominates that image. With others, both people do. In Stephen Shames's 'Eldridge Cleaver Speaks at Berkeley Campus Rally,' the Black Panther leader's face, and that of his wife, Kathleen, standing behind him, fill so much of the frame the upper portion of his head and the lower portion of hers are cut off. Sometimes there are no faces at all, as in John Goodman's 'Tremont St. #4/Combat Zone,' from 1978. Or there's Nicholas Nixon's untitled photograph from 1986, showing his own bare chest and a baby fist. Advertisement Sometimes a photograph requires a second look to realize it has two people in it. The viewer is meant to barely notice the woman and man in Julius Shulman's 'Dynamic Duos' offers an unusual, frequently surprising, and often fun way to look at photographs. One form the fun takes is that the figures within the frame aren't always people. Grouped in a side gallery are photographs of person and animal — who knew that Iggy Pop owned a dog? — or animal and animal. Back in the main gallery, one creaturely pair doesn't consist of animals, human or otherwise. Alec Soth's George Bellows, "The Circus," 1912. Addison Gallery of American Art 'On and Off Stage,' which the Addison's Rachel Vogler curated, is a sort of duo show, too. Half is devoted to representations of performers. That's the 'performance' part of the subtitle. Half is devoted to the sort of performing we all do in daily life, whether consciously or not, or artists aping that performing. That's the 'persona' part of the subtitle. Barbara Morgan, "Merce Cunningham: Totem Ancestor," 1942. Addison Gallery of American Art 'On' comprises photographs, prints, drawings, and paintings — of dancers, acrobats, tumblers, and circus performers, as in George Bellows's 1912 canvas 'The Circus.' A wall of photographs of dancers by Barbara Morgan, Philippe Halsman, and George Platt Lynes is (with apologies to Sonny Liston) a real knockout. Advertisement Cindy Sherman, "The Detective," 1976-2000. Addison Gallery of American Art 'Off' is mostly photographs, with some vintage postcards and a couple of videos. There is both performing as practiced by civilians (as it were), such as the two girls with dolls in Sally Mann's 'New Mothers'; and artists being performative as part of their aesthetic enterprise. The most striking example would be 15 Cindy Sherman photographs from her 'Murder Mystery People' series, with Sherman as all of the people. She began the project in 1976, just out of college. It's like an out-of-town tryout for her epic Georgia O'Keeffe, "Wave, Night," 1928. Addison Gallery of American Art 'Playing to Our Strengths' is the first in a planned series highlighting the Addison's holdings. The museum's Gordon Wilkins curated. As a title, 'Our Strengths' may sound a bit braggy. Actually, it's simple statement of fact. One of the three galleries the show takes up is all Eakinses and Homers. The next focuses on Modernist painters from the interwar years: Davis, Dove, Hartley, Hopper, O'Keeffe, Sheeler, you know, names like that. The final gallery has work from Color Field painters and abstractionists: Ellsworth Kelly, Morris Louis, Barnett Newman, Kenneth Noland, Larry Poons. Stuart Davis, "Red Cart," 1932. Addison Gallery of American Art Like 'Strengths,' 'Dynamic Duos' and 'On and Off Stage' are drawn from the Addison's permanent collection. The excellence of all three shows, as one might infer, testifies to the quality of that collection. Even if it charged admission, which it doesn't, the Addison would be as good a museumgoing bargain as there is in New England. And that's not even counting the traveling June Leaf retrospective, which is also up through July 31. As Spencer Tracy says in 'Pat and Mike' (a movie with lots of two shots), Advertisement DYNAMIC DUOS ON AND OFF STAGE: Performance and Persona PLAYING TO OUR STRENGTHS: Highlights from the Permanent Collection At Addison Gallery of American Art, Phillips Academy, 3 Chapel Ave., Andover, through July 31. 978-749-4015, Mark Feeney can be reached at
Boston Globe
21-02-2025
- Politics
- Boston Globe
Readers share their thoughts on running across Vermont, and loneliness
Shrewsbury Route 9 between Brattleboro and Bennington is as scenic a road as you can get in Southern Vermont. It is also a deceptively hairy road to drive on in any season in the year. . . . I can't imagine running that route. It's hard enough driving on it. Advertisement randyholhut posted on Nolan did a tremendous job combining the history of Vermont with the country landscape. I was, however, confused by the Bernie Sanders reference. Nolan writes: 'I passed through Bennington's waking brick-front businesses and reached the state's oldest, most defining feature: Bernie Sanders the Green Mountains.' A little backwoods Vermont humor, perhaps? Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up Jeffrey McKeen Rowley A fun read! Paul Froehlich Ayer Nice bit of well-written adventure. The illustration, however, shows the runner on the right side of the road, whereas I was taught to stay on the left, facing traffic. Artistically, the way the illustration was designed calls for the figure where it is, in danger. Phila Slade North Andover Vermont has a uniquely wonderful charm all its own. I'm glad the writer got his Snickers worth. wtilnxtyr posted on I enjoyed reading about the author's run across Vermont. Protect your knees! Chuck Monroe Dorchester The illustration depicts a runner cruising along the wrong side of the highway. Rules of the road — as well as common sense — dictate that unlike cyclists who should ride in the same direction as automobile traffic, pedestrians (including walkers and runners) should travel along the left side of the road to face oncoming traffic — except, of course, where a sidewalk is available. Joe Travers Marshfield The simplicity of the cover photo [for the Dispatches From Vermont package] with single figures dispersed against a bright white slope grabbed my attention. Recently, we visited the Addison Gallery of American Art in Andover, which features a Paul Sample painting of hunters in the snow (much better than the famous Bruegel painting of that name). Both scenes convey affection for the season and sport, and the power of radiant white. Advertisement Angela Lin Westwood Wide World of Data Thank you, Yoohyun Jung, for your reflections ( Vox Pop posted on As someone who was diagnosed with ADHD in her 50s, I can relate to the feelings of 'grief' that the author talks about. I struggled for a long time after my diagnosis, feeling angry for the lost time, wanting a 'do-over,' and wondering how different my life would have been if only someone had recognized what was going on with me as an adolescent. That is, of course, not to be, and like the writer, I am moving forward from a new starting line. Thanks for the reminder that I'm not alone. JulieVegas posted on I was very touched by Jung's searingly honest account. I truly hope she can forgive herself for some of her earlier behavior. I can imagine the difficulties she experienced when she was younger were not well understood at that time. I feel great sympathy for those who struggle to be heard and understood. Advertisement Rosemary Sullivan Arlington This resonated very deeply with me, particularly in the discussion of data collection as a process that can be intentionally exclusionary or inclusive, and how this can prevent us from feeling seen or getting the support we need. In my studies at Smith College, I have struggled a lot in determining how I want to use my data analysis/science skills in a way that matters, partly because I have never really seen myself in the curriculum or the data. However, I have always loved the ability of data to tell stories and spark real discussions. I have felt the most academically and intellectually fulfilled when combining technical data analysis with broader humanities-focused research. I was so struck by the potential of data journalism as a meaningful career for myself. Mattea Whitlow Salem Sending hugs and love to the author. I am sorry it has been so hard. Yoohyun: The self you are seems awesome! So, keep and deepen that connection. You have a lot to give. Last thing, you sling words as well as you sling data! Martha Stewart Arlington I've never been diagnosed but I'm pretty sure I also have ADHD. Always in the principal's office in grade school and struggled academically in high school and college. I figured out as I went that I was easily distracted and couldn't concentrate. Money was very important to me when I was growing up and I found the perfect job: retailing. My ADHD thrived when putting out products for sale and making them look good. I eventually owned my own stores and did very well. I sold my business in 2004. Because I wanted to make money, I channeled my weakness and made it my strength. Advertisement Garrett Terzian Cumberland, Rhode Island Thank you so much for sharing, Yoohyun! Very wonderful article that will help many. Ginny Conway Needham Lessons to Learn Danielle Charbonneau put into words in Perspective what I believe to be such an important pedagogical perspective ( Amy Hass Arlington Charbonneau advocates for some teaching practices to improve education. They sound very helpful. But they aren't a substitute for testing! The problem is that some teachers and schools are better than others. Students who win the lottery for good ones are better prepared for the world than those who get bad ones. I knew kids who did well in school, but found they were ill-prepared when they got to college. We need standardized testing to identify and fix poor teachers and schools. Perhaps MCAS was a bad test. If so, what is needed is better standardized testing, not elimination of it. Teaching to the test would be a good thing if we were testing what we want our kids to learn. Advertisement Paul Kyzivatas Hudson Sorry, but Charbonneau's ideas about 'alternative education' are as old as schools themselves. Her 'project-based' learning, where students might plan a fund-raiser for a local food pantry, do nothing to prepare them for life after high school. In my 40 years at Brockton High, I tried to have my English students master the 'essential skills' MCAS wanted to emphasize: to be able to understand and articulate what someone else was saying in a piece of writing, to write a series of cogent sentences that expressed what they were thinking, and more. Yes, that takes effort and it can be difficult. But I'll bet my students would say I prepared them for the challenges of today's world more than Charbonneau's alternatives would have. Marvin Gans Falmouth The focus on preparing students for college has gone way too far, and it'd be great to see some of the non-college-track basics come back. Not all students are cut out for college, and MANY excellent, well-paying jobs don't require it. We need to take a closer look at how other countries educate their children so that they can succeed in the workforce whether or not they go to college. Policywonk88 posted on Public school students in Massachusetts most certainly need a test that will confirm proficiency in math and English. The Massachusetts Teachers Association blew their bugle for a year that the MCAS caused stress; if the students are prepared for any exam, there's not stress, there's confidence. Students need to pay attention in class, do their homework as instructed, and know the answers. Teachers need to offer extra help to below-grade students, as was done years ago. Joel D'Errico Franklin Luck of the Irish Ireland is awesome ( Tree Farmer posted on Head to Connemara on your next trip. Half of Dorchester came from there. Local26 posted on I have lived in Ireland. It is much different than visiting. Initially, it takes some getting used to the differences but over time you adjust to the 'real Ireland,' not the one the tourists see. The Ireland you live in daily is even better than the tourist Ireland. It is a wonderful country with a more civil pace of life than the United States. Prof 1 posted on I'm not even Irish but traveled there a while back and felt most everything [Perspective author Emily Sweeney] just wrote about. mdp123 posted on I found the Irish were very interested in learning I was from America. My great-grandparents were from there, and I found some distant cousins who showed us around. They knew the historical places related to our family that I'd want to see. And they took me to the cemeteries to see where various ancestors were buried. I felt such a deep connection to the place that I find it difficult to even put into words. Everyone I met was more than willing to help, to tell me what interesting places I should see that tourists don't know about. It was the best trip I had ever been on, and I'd love to go back. If I could get dual citizenship, I absolutely would. NotEveryone posted on I've traveled far and wide, lived in five countries, and yet the only place I've ever felt feelings of awe and wonder was Ireland. I have zero Irish ancestry, by the way. Blerg11 posted on CONTACT US: Write to magazine@ or The Boston Globe Magazine/Comments, 1 Exchange Place, Suite 201, Boston, MA 02109-2132. Comments are subject to editing.
