Season of Mud
March 5, 2021
This is Wyeth country, land of March misery. Characterized by mud, dingy landscapes and raw, whipping rains, I have never found anything to love about March in the Brandywine Valley. Andrew Wyeth, renowned artist and favorite son of these parts, knew its miseries well but he wanted to show us its beauty.
Not the beauty of its lush seasons, Wyeth gave us the beauty of our topography's stark winter bones. He gave us portraits of beauty and dignity in its plain, native inhabitants, who were also his neighbors.
This community no longer exists. It has all given way to suburban development except for scattered pockets of designated open space saved from the bulldozer. Andrew himself passed on a few years ago, too.
As far as I can tell the best place to go to be reminded of the beauty in mud is the comfort of your own home: hit Andrew Wyeth/images on your favorite device. There seems to be no brick and mortar museum or gallery that holds a broad overview of Andrew Wyeth's oeuvre. Much of it is dispersed to private collections. The Brandywine River Museum, in the heart of Wyeth country, houses the work of many other painters of the Brandywine School including father, N.C. Wyeth and son, Jamie. But it has only a few works of Andrew.
I often spot very acceptable Wyeth art prints when thrift shopping. I've never purchased one but now I think I will the next time I see a good print. I'll hang it in my studio as a tribute to the local artist who saw the elegance of his neighbors and his neighborhood in the miserable days of mud.
