American Modern Still-life Prints

Blue Hydrangea - image bled to plate size ~ 39 x 29 - printed on 100% cotton rag - edition 3/5 Architectural elements

Donald K. Sultan (b. 1951) Untitled, from Wallflowers Screenprint in colors on wove paper, 2008 24-1/4 x 21-5/8 inches (61.6 x 54.9 cm) (sheet) Ed. 53/190 Initialed, numbered, date...

Julia Jacquette is an American artist based in New York City and Amsterdam. Her work has been shown extensively at galleries and museums around the world, including the Museum of Mo...

Sally Mara Sturman studied art at the University of Michigan, the Rhode Island School of Design, ands the École des Beaux Artes, Paris, France. She has exhibited widely in the Unite...

The present print, "Victoria," is the most iconic example of the printmaking of Malvin Marr Albright, called Zsissly. The composition for the image comes from Albright's painting from about 1935, done while he was studying at the Art Institute of Chicago. We can see clearly in the image how he possesses the same skill for unsettling, magic realist images as his more famous twin brother Ivan Le Lorraine: The lady Victoria sits at a dining room table, surrounded by luxurious still-life objects. All the textures and surfaces of the image express a horror vacui as seen in his painted works, such as "The Trail of Time is Dust" at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Art. The door in this print recalls one of the more famous works by his brother, "That Which I Should Have Done I Did Not Do (The Door)" at the Art Institute of Chicago. 1947, after ca. 1935 original painting 8 1/2 x 13 inches, image 12 x 16 inches, sheet 16 1/4 x 20 1/2 frame Signed in pencil, lower right Title in pencil, lower left Published by Associated American Artists Inc. Unnumbered from the edition of 250 A painter and sculptor, Malvin Albright was born in Chicago, one of twin sons of Adam Emory Albright, famous Chicago figure painter of juvenile subjects, who often used Malvin and his brother Ivan Le Lorraine as models. Malvin's middle name, Marr, was after Wisconsin artist Carl von Marr...

Whistle by American artist George Nama is from ” Tightrope ” a suite of ten lino-cuts published by Monument Press 1974. We see a stark image of a large whistle with a wire binding it’s movement which changes the viewers concept of what they think they are perceiving. In this series of ten lino-cuts Nama takes ordinary household objects and makes them inoperable by wrapping a wire around the workable part of the object and presenting one object at a time. There seems to be a sense of humor and at the same time profundity with each image. All copies are individually signed and numbered by the artist. This is copy number 5/50 and is touched by hand with watercolor on Arches cover stock paper and printed by Monument Press in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. This print is in excellent condition. George Allen Nama was born in Homestead near Pittsbugh, Pennsylvania in 1939. In the 1960’s he was part of an international artistic circle in Paris while working at the Atelier 17 with William Stanley Hayter...

Leigh Behnke was born in Hartford, Connecticut in 1946. She studied at both the Southern Connecticut State College and at the Pratt Institute of Brooklyn New York. She also received...

Brown Cottonwood, 2005 By Andrew Millner (American, b. 1967) Lightjet Print Mounted on UV Plex Signed Lower Right Unframed: 87" x 44" Framed: 88" x 45" Andrew Millner is a visual artist based in St. Louis, MO. His work investigates the relationship between art and nature, the natural and the made. Millner received a BFA from University of Michigan, in Painting and Sculpture. He has had more than 56 group exhibitions since 1987 and over 15 solo exhibitions at institutions including Miller Yezerski Gallery, Boston, Massachusetts; Ellen Miller Gallery, Boston, Massachusetts; CCA, Santa Fe, New Mexico; Tria Gallery, New York City, New York; Richard Levy Gallery, Albuquerque, New Mexico; David Floria Gallery, Aspen, Colorado; Contemporary Museum St. Louis, St. Louis, Missouri. "I started drawing on the computer in 2005. Previous to that, most of my work had been about finding lines in nature; the contours of leaves, the ripples on rivers, the edges of overlapping hills. Although I was using traditional art materials, I prepared the canvases with slicker and slicker surfaces so that the lines wouldn’t soak into the background but sit on top, preserving the nuances of my hand. I thought of the drawings as photographic, in the diaristic sense of recording moments of time. I enjoyed the easy correspondence of the endless novelty of line in these natural forms and the endless variety of line created by my hand. I couldn’t draw the same leaf twice so my subject and process were well matched. I had the idea to draw every leaf of a tree, but I struggled with the scale and complexity of the subject. How does one bring a tree indoors? How can one see the whole tree and its individual parts simultaneously? I tried traditional strategies and materials but the results were unsatisfactory. I wondered if it would be possible to make the drawing on a computer. Since everything… music, photos, movies & books were being digitized, what about drawing? I wasn’t interested in something computer-generated, but sought to “dumb down” the computer and use it as a repository for simple line drawings. In the program I use, Adobe Illustrator, lines are called “paths”… an apt name since the line exists at no set scale or color. Only later do I assign the attributes of color and thickness. Taking my laptop outdoors, I drew my first tree “en plein air.” Using a digital tablet and pen, I drew simple contours of the leaves and branches. Having these drawings remain in digital form rather than in physical form, opened up interesting possibilities and enabled me to tackle the complexity of a tree in intriguing ways. My lines were free and separate from the background and from each other. I drew the branches individually and then later, I could cobble them together to reconstitute the whole tree. On the screen, I could zoom in and out and draw at different scales simultaneously. I could zoom out to draw a simple contour of the entire trunk and then zoom in to draw the smallest leaf with equal effort. I drew in layers so that as the drawings accumulated I could turn layers “off” so that they wouldn’t obscure subsequent layers. These two novelties, drawing at different scales simultaneously and making parts of the drawing invisible to allow for work on top or behind previous drawings, allowed for the accumulation of hundreds of simple outlines to create a dizzying visual complexity. Subsequent trees I drew from photographs. I would take hundreds of close-ups of a tree from a single point of view and then stitch all of these close ups together on the computer. Sometimes I photographed the same tree in the summer and then in the fall after it lost its leaves. This allowed me to see and draw all of the branches and limbs unadorned and unobscured. I would draw the tree twice, with and without leaves, merging the two drawings into one document. In this way, the drawings comprise and compress great spans of looking over vast time frames and seemingly contradictory close-up and distant points of view. My digital drawings have been outputted in different ways… mostly as photographs printed directly from the digital file or as archival inkjet prints. The results defy easy categorization. Are they drawings, prints, or camera-less photographs...