Hughes Gallery, Inc. | P.O. Box 35, Boca Grande, FL. 33921 941-964-4273 | Email | Facebook Nancy Wagstaff Artist's Statement My work calls to me from a sense of our shared experiences as Americans. By this I mean a rusting 1954 Ford, an unoccupied metal lawn chair, a vacant boarding house, or an abandoned bus. When I look at these objects, I am struck with a sense that they are waiting, expecting, even as they are receding in the rear view mirror of time. My work is inspired by long ago road trips, the story residing in the cast-off, and the lonely beauty of the American West. It is about the dignity of solitude, of waiting for the next thing when the past is still present, and of the horizon that is both outside and inside each of us. Barbara's Statement If I'd read the (above) statement, I would have contacted Nancy immediately, with an invitation to join our gallery. Alas, I did not. No, I was way too involved with looking at the works of this highly talented artist. Her images captivated me, instantly. These are things I know – that metal "bouncy" chair, and others of its tribe, sat around a towering oak at my grandfather's farm, down by the steam, which cut through the field where he kept the cows. Joy was unbounded when I bounced in those chairs! I remember that 1954 Ford. My brother, or one of his friends, owned that Ford…I'll bet you did, too; or someone you knew. Doncha wish you still had it - or that '55 Chevy? The signs are especially wonderful. I may not have seen the Blue Rock Inn, but I recall the Dew Drop Inn (or was it Do Drop Inn?). It doesn't matter. The old signs Nancy scouts and paints, those abandoned beauties, still yank me back to the realization that character does count. It may not be beautiful, as our contemporary advertisers and pundits define the word, but it is beautiful. In a world filled with what looks like cloned culture, those signs scream, "Look at me! I'm unique! I’m special! I'm rare and one of a kind!" And, they are. Having grown up in the Midwest, I recognize the grain elevators and silos: the quiet, haunting images I took for granted when growing up and when I turned my head, were gone. Forgotten? Not entirely. Nancy Wagstaff called to me on several levels. First, she's one heck of a painter: a little Hopper, a little Register and a whole lot Californian. There's a long, fine history in the state of California, when it comes to art. Edgar Payne, Granville Redmond, Franz Bischoff, William Wendt, and all the others who went before, arrived after, lived in or visited the state, have left their imprint on the consciousness of the artists. How wonderful…and, cool. (ie: excellent) Second, I couldn't look away. No, that lone wagon or trike: that graffitied (yes, I'm using graffiti as a verb) freight car, that local ice cream shop, which was so perfect for our small town, that rusted car or bus or train – just sitting, there, in the meadow…waiting for an artist to see and paint it: these are enough for me, more than enough, for me to contact Nancy Wagstaff. Third, she paints these objects - these once-used-now-forgotten utilitarian things, which helped define our childhoods, our generation, our parent's adulthoods and our post-war American culture so well – with affection, with more than simply a nod to our past; she paints them with acknowledgement - with honesty. She's the real deal. There's nothing contrived about Nancy's work. It possesses substance, it's authentic to the core, it’s charming, moving. These are powerful, evocative images, done in true the California 'style' I so admire, so love and would recognize a Tennessee mile away, that I couldn't wait to begin some kind of communication with this artist! We're thrilled to introduce her to you. |
Basic Lodging |
Desert Winds |
Golden Years |
Beached |
Chevy Styleline |
Chimayo Christmas |
Hoping for a Signal |
Hydrant |
New American Gothic |
The Guardians |
Western Water Tower |