[Congressional Record Volume 163, Number 125 (Tuesday, July 25, 2017)]
[Senate]
[Pages S4184-S4185]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
TRIBUTE TO SABRA FIELD
Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, Vermont is a place of natural, exquisite
beauty. From the expansive, rolling Green Mountains, to the crystal
shores of Lake Champlain, Vermont is home to some of the most iconic
geographic scenery our country has to offer. I am so proud to call
Vermont my home.
Vermont is also continually ranked as having the most artists per
capita than any other State. Our many artists--writers, photographers,
painters, sculptors, potters, and more--help capture the iconic beauty
that has long made Vermont a destination for visitors from across the
country and around the world. One such artist, Sabra Field, is among
the most gifted and extraordinary of them.
Sabra first came to Vermont in 1953 to attend Middlebury College. An
Oklahoma native, she has since been lauded as a ``Vermont Living
Treasure.'' Perhaps most well-known for her vivid landscapes, Ms.
Field's impressive and iconic paintings are now of signature
familiarity across our State and beyond. Any Vermonter who sees a
painting of purple mountain majesties against a starry, blue night sky
knows they are looking at one of her paintings. In 1991, Sabra was
commissioned by the U.S. Postal Service to create a postage stamp of a
red barn, blue sky, and green hills, a stamp which sold more than 60
million copies. She has also designed images for IBM, the Rockefeller
Center, and UNICEF.
Yet what most suspect only to be Ms. Field's effort to capture
Vermont's impressive geography may be surprised to discover that the
meaning behind her artwork spans much further. In a new exhibit of
Sabra's six-decade long career, showcased by the Middlebury College
Museum of Art, her artistry takes on a deeper meaning, as told by the
artist herself.
The Middlebury exhibit showcases some of Ms. Field's most iconic
pieces, with each painting accompanied by a description of the memory
or inspiration behind it. For instance, in a caption situated under an
illustration of a family of hippopotamuses, Sabra writes of her first
child who was hit by a car just short of his 10th birthday and died
tragically 2 days later. In a 2011 panorama painted of Hawaii, she
captions the story of the passing of her late husband, Spencer, who
passed away on his favorite island of Kauai from complications related
to cancer. The exhibit also depicts her work beyond that of a
pastoralist, with self-portraits and paintings inspired by her personal
exploration of spirituality, mythology, the cosmos, world history, and
life after death.
These images and others reveal the often somber trials of Ms. Field's
life. They also expose the ways in which her artistry has helped her
heal and grow over time. Ms. Field is hoping this new exhibit will help
avoid her being known as purely a pastoralist, as she feels her art is
both an expression of beauty and a representation of the obstacles and
rebounds of her life.
Marcelle and I would like to congratulate Sabra on her new exhibit at
Middlebury College and on her career of record accomplishments. Her
treasured paintings have long been a gift to Vermont and the world, and
we know her work's timeless beauty will tell stories for generations to
come. Our home proudly displays many of her works of art. We are so
proud to call Sabra our dear friend.
I ask unanimous consent that a copy of the article ``Sabra Field Show
Reveals Personal Peaks and Valleys,'' published in the Vermont Digger
on July 16, 2017, be printed in the Record.
There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in
the Record, as follows:
[From Vermont Digger, July 16, 2017]
Sabra Field Show Reveals Personal Peaks and Valleys
(By Kevin O'Connor)
Middlebury.--The first words of a new exhibit celebrating
one of Vermont's most recognized artists sum up the seeming
dilemma: ``What can one say about Sabra Field's work that has
not already been said?''
Plenty, the 82-year-old printmaker soon proves. Take her
1962 illustration of a family of sunny, smiling hippos.
``Here is the birth announcement for my first child,
Barclay Giddings Johnson III, `Clay' for short,'' she writes
in an accompanying caption. ``He was a handsome boy, a
fearless skier, full of the joy of life, loved and admired by
adults and kids alike. Hit by a car just short of his 10th
birthday, he died two days later.''
Next comes a 1965 self-portrait featuring more shadows than
light.
``This is me the year I grew up, age 30,'' she writes,
``when my parents died within a week of each other.''
Then there's the 2011 panorama ``Sea, Sand, Stones'' that
Field composed while visiting Hawaii with her husband.
``Spen died suddenly on our favorite island, Kauai, from
complications dating back to cancer seven years earlier,''
she writes. ``A set of these prints now hangs in Wilcox
Memorial Hospital in Lihue in Spen's memory. The ER doctor
who tried so hard to save him has become a good friend.''
Most Vermonters think of Field for works as colorful and
carefree as the red barn, blue sky and green hills she
created for a 1991 U.S. postage stamp that sold more than 60
million copies.
``Over the course of her career she has received any number
of accolades, and has been variously described as `the Grant
Wood of Vermont,' `the artist laureate of Vermont,' and as
someone who `has touched more lives than any Vermont artist
in history,' '' says Richard Saunders, a Middlebury College
professor and director of its Museum of Art.
But the surprisingly personal ``Sabra Field, Then and Now:
A Retrospective'' on campus through Aug. 13 reveals as much
about her private struggles as her professional success.
``THE DIRECTION OF ONE'S WISHES''
Field, born in Oklahoma and raised in New York, first came
to Vermont in 1953 to attend Middlebury, where she graduated
60 years ago /(``I went to Middlebury because there was no
math requirement,'' she confides in the show's catalog). She
has given the college an archive copy of every print she has
ever created.
Writing her own captions, the artist uses the 100-work
exhibit to chronicle her career, starting with a 1971 image
of swaying green stripes titled ``Grass.''
``My first `home run,' '' she notes. ``I inadvertently hit
a universal theme that got copied and got me to begin
registering work with the Library of Congress.''
On another wall, Field's 2001 ``Eastern Mountains''
features a more detailed landscape of emerald, turquoise and
gold.
``The trip from coastal Maine to Vermont crosses the White
Mountains in New Hampshire and gives a view of the Upper
Valley perhaps not as broad and agricultural as in my
dreams,'' she writes. ``Memory alters in the direction of
one's wishes.''
``Eastern Mountains'' proves the point. Field began the
first proofs on Sept. 11, 2001, just before seeing television
coverage of that day's terrorist attacks.
Every peak in this artist's world is framed by valleys, the
exhibit shows. Consider the 1960 work ``Daisies.''
``This was published as a print and also as a hand-printed
greeting card,'' she explains, ``an enterprise found to be
hugely unprofitable.''
Next comes a 1969 self-portrait Field produced after
leaving her first marriage.
``I divorced and moved from a Connecticut prep school,''
she notes, ``to an old tavern in rural Vermont.''
Then again, every valley in this artist's world is followed
by peaks. That two-century-old structure, in the Windsor
County settlement of East Barnard, is where Field began to
design, draw and cut the woodblock prints that have sustained
her for the past 50 years.
``I became part of a different culture where I could live
and work at home in a quiet hamlet that was good for kids and
without pretense,'' she continues in the caption. ``Here I am
sitting in front of my window overlooking a dirt road with
alfalfa on the other side and a quote from George Weld on the
window frame that reads `Therefore Choose Life.' ''
``LIKE ARTISTS ALWAYS HAVE BEEN''
Field's subsequent 1972 suite of prints depicting the words
of the 23rd Psalm allowed her to mark the death of her
firstborn son through images ranging from a wintry day
(``Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of
death, I will fear no evil'') to a starry summer night
(``Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of
my life'').
As writer Nancy Price Graff notes in an essay that anchors
the exhibit's catalog: ``For the first time, she turned to
Vermont's landscape to illustrate humankind's spiritual
connection to nature and nature's capacity to heal those who
give themselves to it.''
Adds Saunders: ``While on the one hand she has been accused
by some of sanitizing the world and removing the nitty-gritty
details that surround us, others would say this is a natural
part of a desire to see beyond the
[[Page S4185]]
mundane and urge us to sense the spiritualism that surrounds
us.''
And Field: ``I know I see Vermont through rose-colored
glasses. I know what dire poverty we suffer here. But I guess
I am like artists always have been. They want to see things
at their best.''
As an example, the artist pictures herself in a 1988 self-
portrait working in front of a seemingly limitless horizon.
``Reagan started a recession, sales started to slump,'' she
confides in the caption. ``An amazing start up, The Mountain
School of Milton Academy, hired me to teach gifted high
school juniors a few days a week and the commute to Vershire,
Vermont, was so beautiful it resulted in many new prints.''
(The self-portrait, its subject adds, features a ``fabulous
Ralph Lauren red suede skirt I remembered trying on in New
York City'' but ultimately never buying.)
The exhibit includes several landscapes that viewers may
recognize from cards, calendars and Vermont PBS pledge
drives.
``I believe prints are a popular art form, meant for
collectors of modest incomes, as well as those who can spend
a lot,'' the artist explains. ``It's been that way since the
first woodblock prints were sold to pilgrims as souvenirs at
the shrines of Europe in Medieval times.''
But Field's art wasn't always seen as marketable. Take the
story behind her 1977 ``Mountain Suite.''
``Vermont Life magazine requested a seasonal suite to
sell,'' she writes. ``Then they declined to buy them from
me.''
The artist went on to distribute the four images herself.
(On her website they now sell for $250 each.) Vermont Life,
for its part, profiled her in 1979 and put one of her prints
on its cover in 1986.
``LIFE AFTER LIFE? YOU TELL ME''
Success has allowed Field to travel the world and take
creative chances. Her 12-panel ``Pandora Suite,'' depicting
the Greek myth of the first goddess to appear in human form,
came in response to the United States' 2003 invasion of Iraq.
``Her work has changed so much over time,'' the artist's
brother, Tony Harwood, says in an hour long documentary,
``Sabra: The Life & Work of Printmaker Sabra Field,'' that
plays as part of the show. ``Sabra felt economically
comfortable enough to focus on possibly nonmarketable
subjects.''
But however far she strays, Field always returns to her
roots. Consider the recently completed ``Cloud Way,'' which
she deems the retrospective's signature image.
``Believe me when I tell you I did the (preparation) to
begin this print while on holiday in Sicily,'' she writes.
``I was homesick for the stretch of the White River along
which I travel to reach the coop in South Royalton.''
The show also includes illustrations from her new
children's book ``Where Do They Go?''--which the artist,
joined by writer Julia Alvarez, will discuss July 29 at
Woodstock's Bookstock literary festival.
The latter work ``gently addresses the emotional side of
death,'' its publisher states. But Field is aggressive in not
letting age stop her creativity. The exhibit features a
recent work titled ``Floating Woman.''
``One morning I woke with a dream of floating up to the
heavens,'' she writes. ``I walked into the studio and made a
little drawing.''
Another self-portrait, she realized.
``Mortality? Resurrection? Life after life? You tell me.''
Field caps her show with a 50-year-old print that quotes
the late scribe James Baldwin.
``My future was doubtful that summer of 1967,'' she writes
in the caption. ``These words by a black American writer
living in Paris described this white American printmaker in
New England, and they still do: `It seems to me that one
ought to rejoice in the fact of death, ought to decide indeed
to earn one's death by confronting with passion the conundrum
of life.' ''
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