Since the dawn of man civilizations have felt
the need to memorialize the images of the natural world with
cave drawings the primogenitor to the fine art of landscape
painting. Regardless of the medium, our planet’s environments
have served as a source of awe inspiring creativity for its
denizens. The mid 19th century art movement known as the Hudson
River School, portrayed the majesty of the landscape by its
realistic, detailed, and idealized depiction of nature.1 To
them nature equaled God, and thus their canvases, in almost
reverential tones, respectfully enshrined all that they observed.
Often man was depicted as he was, miniscule beside the vastness
of creation.2 But as early as the mid 1800s these artistic
residents of America’s Northeast were aware of man’s
destructive tendencies towards the land. Their artwork served
as an impetus to settle the West, moving the population into
pristine, untouched reserves.
As today’s global conditions continue
to threaten our world and as our national policies reward
a profit mentality over a social consciousness, the natural
wonders of our life seem even more imperiled. Membership in
proactive environmental organizations is one way of taking
a stand against these encroachments of technology. The approach
chosen by painter Linda Guenste to make a statement about
the adverse changes she witnesses is to record the natural
world as she sees it during her forays around the globe. Through
her art, she memorializes how it is and how she wishes it
would remain.
As one who eschews a tourist mentality and
sites when she travels, Guenste prefers to be alone and seeks
out locales not visited by the average vacationer. She says
she purposefully chooses months when less of the population
is on holiday. Guenste, saying, “I see myself as a traveler
and not a tourist”, immerses herself in whatever culture
and nature the area provides. Her credo could satisfy both
the artist and the environmentalist. “Tourists take;
I observe,” she says. Her trips are always a Busman’s
holiday, traveling with the idea that she will be creating
artwork. She states she can’t travel enough because
“the environment is a dying breed; it is us against
time.
Guenste feels her connection to the environment
is genetic. From her earliest recollections of growing up
in rural New York State and New Jersey she was always outdoors
exploring the landscape. She jokes that her impetus to become
an artist was a “hereditary gift” from her best
friend’s mother, herself an artist. She remembers a
more cultured and creative experience awaited her whenever
she visited. The amalgam of art and environment was solidified
for her during those years. On a trip to Philadelphia she
discovered the big city’s suburbs and their bucolic
vistas. After attending Philadelphia College of Art (now University
of the Arts) she received a four year certificate from the
Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts where she refined her talents
and mastered her craft. The schools’ academic reputations
drew her to the area; the landscape sealed the deal.
Although she has done figurative work, during the last 10
years she has been focused on landscape, specifically trees.
Because of a visceral connectedness to the earth, she says
she, “meets a tree and wants it to explain itself”.
She is interested in the anatomy “not the lettuce (foliage)”;
its connection to the ground is what most intrigues her. After
traveling to Alaska, where she feels,” . . . is what
is left of wilderness in this country”, and to Oregon,
where the landscape reinforces the pristine possibilities
of our country, it was a recent trip to Japan that manifested
the inexorable relationship of man and nature. It produced
her latest body of work entitled, “Honoring the Ancestors”.
“The title was derived by my visits to ancient Shinto
Shrines in Japan. In the silence that follows the ringing
of a bell one honors those who have lived before. I, in turn,
bestow this same honor onto the trees in my work. Each tree
has a past and a present. Each tree has a story, a moment
in history.” The bell ringing ritual refers to an ancient
custom whereupon visitors to a shrine first wash their hands
and rinse their mouths to purify themselves. A bell is then
rung and the assembled people clap to honor ancestors as ones
who have come before you. “I feel the same way about
this artwork. The shrines, like the trees, are not to a specific
individual but to the past. Today that nature is overlooked.”
While in Japan, another example she found
of reverence for the past and the inextricable bond between
man and nature was the practice of bracing tree branches.
While in America we prune an unsymmetrical outgrowth the Japanese
choose to honor the ancestors of both tree and human by supporting
its waywardness. It says you are not done; life goes on. The
Hudson River School artists also used the tree as a symbol.
A broken tree stump, which artist Thomas Cole called a “Memento
Mori”, was used in paintings to symbolize the fragility
of life and its impermanence. These two views might seem diametrically
opposed, with one advocating a continuation of life and the
other speaking to the temporariness of it. But they are really
opposite sides of the same coin.
In the past Guenste’s tree paintings
were “in your face”, a straightforward composition
and representation of nature. They were about the limned object
and no extrapolated implications were contemplated. There
was and still is no anthropocentric meaning to her work; nature
was paramount, man a lucky co-inhibitor. But her work took
on a more philosophical aspect with the trip to Japan. “You
enter a painting and then leave when creating; the mystery
is where you go once you experience the tree.” This
led to thoughts about the connectedness of man to his environment,
whether outside or in a simple family unit. In the observation
of nature you can also understand the guiding principles of
generations of families.
The eponymous piece in the show “Honoring
the Ancestors” is a tribute to and an examination of
the nature of the Banyan tree and a symbolic reference to
the continuity of mankind. The trees can grow for centuries
and as their offshoots drop and take root the tree’s
dimensions expand to cover acres. The very nature of the Banyan
makes Guenste think of family “from the “family
of man…to the problems of a child”. The structure
of the tree becomes the home, the many offshoots the generations,
the parturition of the artist. Through the rendering of the
Banyan, Guenste confronts the question of what it is to be
a parent, a family member, a citizen and the attendant responsibilities.
As a mother of teenage boys, she says, “you go from
the stage of life of rearing and influencing them” (the
tree grows and drops its offshoots) “and then you are
rejected” (the roots taking hold of the land and beginning
their own life path).
The painting “Peppi’s Affect” further demonstrates
the interconnectedness of man. Peppi, an older friend, fellow
artist and mentor of Guenste, hosted a birthday celebration.
As a participant in the event Guenste was motivated to commemorate
the occasion. Again the reification of the gathering was symbolized
by a tree/root structure. While “symbolizing her family
and its extensions to friends and life”, it succinctly
speaks to the generations gathered around one individual.’
Its tangled roots convey how all are touched in different
ways and yet are united in the commonality of humanity and
propinquity. The choice of the word affect was calculated.
Besides having its root in the word affection, Peppi’s
affect was to touch, influence, and pass to future generations
that which she possessed, “her intangible affect”.