[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 163 (2017), Part 8]
[Senate]
[Pages 11598-11599]
[From the U.S. 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.

[[Page 11599]]

  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 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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