Nancy Neaher Maas, Artist

Left: first known art work, 3 1/2 yrs old, of family. Right: Oil inspired by a playing card, 12 years old.

The (official) "Resume"

Nancy Neaher Maas paints from her studio in upstate New York, as well as on-site in exotic places. She exhibits nationally and is well known for her collaged watercolor weavings, a technique she developed twenty years ago.

Nancy’s paintings are on view year-round in Ithaca, New York at Contemporary Trends, The Corners Gallery, Cornell University Bookstore, and in special exhibitions. She is a signature member of the Taos Society of Watercolorists, Taos, New Mexico. Her work can be found in private and public collections around the country and abroad. For a decade she participated in a juried summer art fair in Charlevoix, Michigan where her work is exhibited in the summer at the Zazen Gallery.

Nancy has served as a juror for painting competitions, both in Ithaca and Florida. She gives workshops to other artists, demonstrating the principles of watercolor and watercolor weaving. These have included sessions in Boca Raton and Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Cazenovia, New York and Ithaca.

Her art has been featured in various publications, including American Artist (December 1998), Watercolor (American Artist) summers l996 and 2003, Coastal Living, April 2005, and Life in the Finger Lakes, Fall 2006 (see sidebar).

Nancy is also an art historian, specializing in the arts of Africa. She received her degrees from Smith College (B.A.), Harvard University (M.A.T.) and Stanford University (M.A.,Ph.D.). She has taught at the university level for many years, including Hunter College, New York City, Wayne State University, Detroit, Cornell University, Ithaca, New York, SUNY Cortland College, Cortland, New York, and most recently at Ithaca College, Ithaca, New York.

International experience began as a Peace Corps volunteer in Bolivia, followed by extensive living, traveling and researching in sub-Saharan Africa, principally in Nigeria, but also including visits to Tanzania, Zambia, Malawi, and South Africa. She has traveled many parts of the world with her husband and family, most recently to Asia.

Nowadays Nancy's greatest pleasure is to stay home, enjoying the companionship of her husband, her dogs and her friends.

Picture right : Mother and Dad framing Mary Page, a longtime family friend. My Dad, Mary and her husband Joe were (Joe is still at it, the others passed away) all artists, although my father devoted his life to the law, capping it as a Federal Judge. My mother, a lawyer in her own right, was a critical observer of the visual arts. She had definite tastes-- realism was her preferred style and abstraction was her least favorite.

. PERSONAL STATEMENT

Making art has been with me since my earliest days. Like so many artists, I drew, painted and imagined throughout my childhood. While art gave me great satisfaction, I took my talent for granted and was curious about other things. So, with college I opted out of art school training, turning instead to the history and culture of Latin America at Smith College, followed by a master’s from Harvard, and a two year stint in the Peace Corps in Bolivia. Then it was on to the arts of Africa, capped by a long haul to a doctorate from Stanford University and years teaching at Wayne State University, Detroit, Cornell University, SUNY Cortland, and finally Ithaca College. Along the way I took occasional workshops with local studio artists and others, never losing the inclination to make art. I am largely self-taught. Do I regret not having followed a more traditional artist’s path, with full exposure to many media and the opportunities that come with networking? No, not really. The years I spent exploring and living in other cultures, the languages I learned (some fading, but my Spanish still functions!), and the world friends I made are part of me to this day. They nurture my core and, if art is an expression of self, they must somehow surface in my work.

One of the exciting aspects of being intimately acquainted with the arts of Africa, for example, is that it gives me a rather unusual perspective on the notion of who the artist is and what he/she does. It makes me fully aware that I/we Western artists are a novelty in world history, as we are permitted the luxury of following our emotions as a prime imperative in the work we create. We have the privilege of self-expression, whereas traditional artists in other cultures (and in earlier, pre-Renaissance times, in our own history) were artisans in the employ of clients. The patron ruled, as did the ancestors, in ways unfamiliar to Western artists. Does this make us better artists? Not necessarily, as we tend to diverge from our audience, following our inner imagination wherever it will take us. We may leave our (potential) clients behind or out of the picture entirely (sorry about the pun!). Perhaps a more accurate definition of artist rests with the civil engineer, the graphic designer or the architect.

Yet I feel blessed to be part of this rarified group—the fine artist--, and to be able to be open to self-discovery and self-expression. This is a destiny that makes work a joy.

ON INFLUENCES...

I don't spend much time mulling over artists who have influenced my work. Generally I approach my art in an insular fashion, looking for a way to express some place/feeling/idea as well as I can. No conscious effort to emulate another artist has ever been part of my artistic process. Nevertheless, there are a few individuals who have had an impact on me, sometimes in ways I can not always understand. (If you go to Gallery 1, you'll find acknowledgments of various sources, including elements of African art, on my weavings ).

When I was a high school student, living on Long Island, my friends and I made Saturday trips to NYC on the LIRR. The Museum of Modern Art was one of our favorite destinations and it was there that I remember being bowled over by a large green painting of trees in a park. It was almost a square canvas, with dense, mosaic-like leafy shapes depicting foliage. The horizon was set low, and the occasional tree trunk seemed almost decorative. That painting has stayed with me over decades even though I never bothered to learn much about the artist. As a matter of fact, I repeatedly forgot his name. It was the painting itself that spoke to me. While the rhythm of this great work was quite static, I know I was entranced by the subtle bits of color that came together to define the park foliage. I think my collage watercolor weavings, which depend on increments of color--some of which I layer many times over to achieve an almost stained-glass effect--owe something to this wonderful image. Who was the artist? I have only recently spent some time reading about him and viewing some of his other work. I speak of Gustav Klimt, an early 20th century Viennese who became famous for much more than "The Park" (1909).

Having recently visited Vienna, I saw many Klimts; followed by a current New York exhibition at the Neue Gallery. What strikes me most is the delicacy and attention he gives to every element of each canvas. His decorative segments are full of subtlety, something we might not expect from the seemingly opaque reproductions of "The Kiss," portraits of his lady friends and other of his iconic images. The paintings' surfaces remind me of the deceptively simple planes of a Richard Diebenkorn (he is another of my favorites!). Klimt's touch was especially light and fine in his pencil sketches, something which surprised me as well. His young women are delicately rendered with an almost-feathery touch, even his more risque porrtraits of self-arousal.

Winslow Homer is a true mentor fo me. I marvel at his freshness and the ease with which he simplified "reality" . He was also a master of color, one of my greatest passions (I have a hard time with some Picassos because he was not a colorist and his images at times seem like missed opportunities. Blue Period excepted). My library is full of books of Homer's work and I'll admit to referencing them if I have a tough time painting a passage in a landscape. His career provides a model of discipline (first as a commercial artist working in a realist mode) which later culminated in the freest, most expressive watercolors of all time. While some of his oils astonish, overall it's the watercolors that make his reputation for me. A review I wrote of a Homer exhibit at the Met is listed in the bibliography above.

There are other artists whom I admire, although I would never pretend to emulate them. I feel a distinct kinship with Jackson Pollock. Those restless, dense skeins of color and line, so characteristic of his canvases, were thrown into new light for me as I continued probing the weaving technique. I, too, end up with busy surfaces, often with little relief in the way of "quiet" areas in my images. This often just happens as I paint, driven as I am for the impact of movement and rhythm. Despite Pollock's unique personal technique (unique at mid-century, that is), his end product and mine are not too distant in spirit.

Others include John Singer Sargent, another masterful watercolorist like Homer. Last year a major N.Y. gallery presented a group of lesser known Sargent watercolors. Most were of Venice, some bordering on studies rather than finished paintings. Nonetheless, they reflected Sargent's fearless approach to extremely complicated compositions (e.g. many boats in the harbor). He apparently painted from the gondolas in the canals, a daunting prospect which he carried off with elan. One could almost feel the gesture of his arm, the swipe of his paintbrush, and his wonderful sense of color by viewing these works. I do suspect he prepared some of the intricate facades of ancient churches bordering the canals by drawing them beforehand. But, perhaps I'm underestimating Sargent's ability to work extemporaneously with complex exercises in perspective.

Diebenkorn is a favorite: his semi-abstract oils and drawings -- with their exquisite planes and layers of color and atmosphere -- always entrance me. Another is Cy Twombly whose found-object constructions are absolutely amazing; and Berthe Morisot who so touchingly renders a woman's life at home. I can relate to the ancient Greeks, having spent short periods in Greece viewing their ambitious sculptural programs, so full of rhythm and the fullness of the human figure. As a group Renaissance artists humble me, especially when I observe their drawings (the oils are always so "finished" and unyielding as to the journey of the artist).

In Ithaca itself, we have some wonderful artists. The late Peter Kahn, who was a colleague of mine during the 80's when I taught in Cornell's History of Art program, was also a mentor for me and many others. His dynamic line and expressive approach to color and medium inspires me to this day. Not coincidentally his brother is Wolf Kahn, whose fame still resonates in the gallery world. A number of early 20th century American artists rank high with me, including Arthur Dove and Charles Sheeler, and to a lesser degree, Georgia O'Keeffe. There are others, as well. Stay tuned!