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‘Migration Collage' by ransome
‘Square Quilting painting' by ransomeAlexander Wilburn
Map fragments of North Carolina feature heavily in a large collection of eight-by-eight collage and acrylic paintings, sold individually but together mounted on Geary’s wall resembling the stitched patterns on quilts, like the quilts by the late Black American artist Arlonzia Pettway. Along with artists like Annie Mae Young and Mary Lee Bendolph, Pettway was a renowned artist associated with the quilts of Gee’s Bend, generations of women in the town of Gee’s Bend, Alabama who preserved African American culture in beautiful and vibrant textile art with bold combinations of stripes, textures and colors. The influence is also wonderfully clear in ransome large-scale collages and acrylic paintings like “Square Quilt painting” on display at Geary. It’s a powerful symbol of Gee’s Bend’s legacy continuing on, even under a new artistic medium.
In the smaller works, called “Migration Collages,” painted portraits are combined with pieces of floral and pastel paper, evocative of the tradition of “Sunday Best” splendor worn in Black churches in the South. “The women elders at my Baptist church often greeted each other that way on Sunday mornings when one hat was more elaborate, colorful, or wider brimmed than another,” New York Times veteran Lena Williams wrote in her 1996 essay, “In Defense of the Church Hat.” “It was traditional to put on one’s newest finery for church, and in many historically black churches, the wearing of fancy hats by women carried both spiritual and cultural significance.”
“The Bitter and the Sweet” is on view at Geary through Sunday, June 2.
The scene of innumerable frustrations over the years.
A: Any crops. I just like saying “crops.”
In what seems to be an increasing rarity, we had two days without hardly any rain, on Tuesday and Wednesday, April 16-17. (It did start raining Wednesday evening.)
I ventured into a brook in the lower reaches, where the descendants of state-stocked browns have taken firm hold.
The state stopped stocking the stream about 20 years ago, so these fish are — what, the fifth or sixth generation?
There are more of them in this small stream than you might think from a casual glance. And they are incredibly difficult to catch.
On Wednesday I used a little eight-foot Japanese Tenkara rod I forgot about. Not the greatest rod but it got the job done. I also carried the Dragontail Talon, which at a foot long when collapsed fits in the hand warmer pocket of my waders. It’s 10 feet and change in action. And it’s just a better rod.
(So have I gone all Zen weirdness? No, I use my regular rods all the time. I operate on 100% whim.)
In these new spots, I plucked not one but two wild browns from deeper plunge pools, and both were well over 10 inches. This doesn’t sound like much perhaps, but the typical fish in here is four to six inches and could easily fit in a little rectangular can labeled “sardines.”
Fish were coming up for big dries, Stimulators (size 10) and Parachute Adams (size 10), but the big winner was Joe’s Weenie. Unlike the ho-hum standard Green Weenie, Joe’s Weenie is a darker green, tied on a jig hook and has a very heavy head. It sinks like a stone.
Joe's Weenie is the superior Green Weenie.Patrick L. Sullivan
With regard to the photo of the large pool with the tree across it: This pool, which looks incredibly inviting, is the scene of innumerable frustrations over the years.
The problem has always been the approach. The tailout is shallow, and the spooky fish could see me coming a mile away.
And while visible booted feet are bad enough, many is the time I have watched dark shapes scurrying away after being alerted to my looming presence by a) the looming and b) the waving of the rod.
But this tree fell just right. It minimizes the looming aspect and seems to help with the waving rod bit as well. I can stand a few feet behind it and cast over it without mishap.
Upstream a 20-year old logjam finally blew out and completely changed the configuration of about 40 yards of stream.
This reminds me that rivers are not static systems. When one door closes, another one opens.
And he who laughs last gathers no moss.
