Mary Hrbacek’s solo exhibition, Peopled Forest of My Mind, curated by Elga Wimmer at the Creon Gallery in New York City in April, 2013, featured Hrbacek’s new, very small and very large, personified tree paintings. Inspired by her dense, dramatic charcoal drawing executed on stark white paper, Hrbacek cultivates eerie hybrid plant forms as they emerge through the drawing process, coaxing these unfathomable figural apparitions into coherent, energized, human-like entities embodying the organic origins of all natural systems. Her work reveals our primal link to nature in an increasingly high-tech, global existence.

Left: Mary Hrbacek, Woman Withheld (2011), 22 x 30″. Courtesy CREON Gallery.

The following conversation was conducted with Mary Hrbacek on the telephone, as well as via email, by Edward Rubin on April 23, 2013. artes fine arts magazine

Edward Rubin: Why Trees? What is it that made you decide to start painting trees? Give us a little history of how you came to switch from painting rocks to painting portraits of trees.

Mary Hrbacek: Good question! After creating the intricate Southwest rock series, I needed a respite from working abstractly. Because of my asthma, I couldn’t use oil, turpentine or acrylic, so I chose a heavy textural surface on which I dripped inks. Eventually I realized I needed an image to work from to make my art convincing. At that time, I had no studio and spent my time in Riverside Park, an area full of Sycamore trees. The peeling bark and natural patterns attracted me, and I began to draw the trees, at first not realizing their anthropomorphic possibilities.

ER: I have heard people refer to you as a “curator of nature,” a moniker I rather love. How do you choose the trees that become your subjects?

MH: Actually, I don’t select my subjects– they choose me! When I find a particular tree that rivets my attention, I cannot ignore it. I photograph various views, choosing evocative, human-like forms often suggesting gender. I frequently produce several drawings and paintings of the same compelling subject.

ER: Many of your early tree paintings appear to be anthropomorphic. Is this something that you consciously realized, or perhaps even just sensed, at the time?

MH: In 1997, I started to walk in Riverside Park every day and would sit down and work on my pencil drawings. At that time, I also was drawing from live models. One day my vision changed! I saw the trees in a new way, their limbs and other characteristics closely related to human anatomy. I realized that the trees attracting my attention appeared to be anthropomorphic. I was astounded when my vision changed, as the tree limbs and human anatomy merged in my psyche. The anthropomorphic quality set these trees apart, making them powerful and memorable.

The subject of trees evokes lore from the earliest human experiences. The Egyptians believed that “souls” rested in Sycamore trees before their long journey across the desert to the next world. Trees’ roots can penetrate as far down as 70 feet beneath the earth’s surface, bringing nutrients (produced by photosynthesis) deep into the earth. I view them as objects of significance and interest. I admire trees. They matter to me in the way that a friend matters. Exploring their forms in my art nurtures my life and sustains my intellect and imagination.

ER: This may sound silly, but in your travels around the world, you have painted all kinds of trees. What is it that attracts you to a particular tree? If they can be said to have individual personalities, have you found any differences among the various types of trees that you have captured? Do they talk to you, so to speak, and if so, in what ways?

MH: Your question isn’t silly at all! I am especially attracted by trees that bring the anthropomorphic vibe out strongly. For instance, to me, my painting Dark Monarch looks exactly like a king seated on a throne; Hanging Suspended, especially, evokes an upside down male torso. Trees can actually be as different from each other as humans: they come in all of shapes and sizes, and their personas or personalities strongly differentiate their unique identities.. Once in Riverside Park, I actually heard a faint whisper. When I looked up to see where it had come from,I noticed a tree with sap seeping from a broken limb. Go figure!

ER: When you see a tree that you know you want to paint, do you draw it first or take photographs? In other words, what is your process, from first seeing a tree that you’d like to paint, to the finished piece, itself?

MH: If I could sit on the spot to draw every tree I find in my travels, I would.

Since I move from place to place, country to country, I find I must take photographs so that I can later explore the forms in my highly intuitive charcoal drawing process. I then translate the image into an acrylic painting on linen. I am very particular about the forms. I do not stop working on a painting until I get to a point that satisfies the excitement I derive from clearly- honed forms.

ER: In this exhibition you are showing your charcoal drawings– a first, as far as I know. When do you use charcoal, and how did you come to create such black charcoal drawings?

MH: I’ve shown my charcoal drawings before, though not lately, I admit. Curator Elga Wimmer liked these drawings and thought they should be seen alongside my paintings. Charcoal is the oldest medium used by humans. It is also made from tree bark. I have used Stonehenge printmaking paper for years. One summer the manufacturer sealed the sheets so that I had to press down very hard to make the charcoal adhere to the paper. I knew instantly that this was an important development in my work.

ER: I’ve seen a number of your exhibitions– the most recent being Covert Narratives, a group show this past February at the Tenri Institute here in New York City– and now this solo exhibition. Each time, just when I wonder “what can she do now and where can she take this,” you surprise me by adding new elements, an odd twist, or a change in the size and shape of the canvases you use. At Tenri, you added human and animal figures to your paintings. I loved this touch. In this exhibition at CREON, we are greeted by a wall of very small paintings and then, we meet all six by nine feet of The Wanderer, which you said is your largest work to date. What are the process, challenges, and adjustments that you have to make in going from a small work to a large work such as this?

Left: The Wanderer (2012), acrylic on linen, 6 x 9′

MH: I think I am becoming less of an “outsider” in my life, which is having an impact on my imagery. Unconsciously, I have been adding several figures that relate to one another, instead of focusing on a lone tree. I am less afraid of people now, than I was for a long time. I feel more safe and confident than I once did. It is hard to fathom the fact that a small work can be even more difficult to resolve than a larger piece. The brushes one uses are very tiny, but the image must be convincing, done “just right” to be both established and believable. My eyes were quite strained from working on the small pieces. The large work took everything I have both physically and emotionally to complete. I had to go back in to deepen the forms to resolve and elaborate on areas that I had thought were done. It takes a lot of tenacity to work large, but I intend to expand my repertoire in the near future by working on large pieces in both horizontal and vertical rolls. I like having The Wanderer hang loosely from the top. To me, it looks very playful and organic. It is challenging, but it is also exciting to break out of the “usual” rectangular format. I am ready for the change and the challenge, thanks to my new audience whose responses are inspiring me.

ER: The backgrounds of your paintings appear to play a very important part of your paintings. Can you speak to this? Can you tell me how you select your backgrounds, as far as color goes? Is the time of day involved in what colors you select?

MH: I paint the backgrounds in a flat graphic mode in order to separate the image from naturalistic references. I want to accentuate the personality of the specific tree to elaborate its unique forms and attributes. The color is related to the form by either harmonizing or contrasting tone. A color from within the tree may work to unify the image when applied to the background space. I often change the area surrounding the tree form many times to get the right hue and tone, but it doesn’t relate specifically to time of day, location or season of the year.

ER: Mary, tell my why you don’t place your trees in a more naturalistic setting?

MH: I want to present my subjects in an isolated, symbolic space that sets them apart from their environment and from art historical associations. The tree becomes the total focus of the painting. This choice gives me the freedom to accentuate the tensions, gestures and emotions that specific tree forms evoke.

ER: I see that you like to use flat colors as a surrounding ground.

MB: The flat, harmonious colors I use in the background are intended to highlight the sculptural character of the shapes, providing a slightly disjointed aura to transport the pieces from conventional time and location.

ER: Your paintings have an animated Disneyesque quality to them. On one hand they appear cartoon-like, say a still from a Disney film– while on the other hand, one also thinks of the naturalism of Audubon, admittedly, though, with a lot less detail, of course. Is this a quality you aim for?

MH: Good point! The Disneyesque quality arises from the simplicity and cartoon-like animation of the movement in some of my tree forms. Because my vision is not figurative but representational, I tend to omit realistic detail. It doesn’t interest me. I just want to establish the authenticity of my images. Perhaps these factors account for the “cartoon” character of some of my works. I don’t relate to, or think about, Audubon at all. However, because nature is the source of the works, they may conjure thoughts of Audubon.

ER: All of your paintings have titles that seem to be part of your whole presentation. How do you go about naming them?

MH: I choose titles suggested by the works themselves. For instance, The Wanderer strikes me as a figure that is in a perpetual state of searching for meaning for what matters in life. This does suggest a myth like that of Sisyphus, but to me, it also makes sense in an everyday way. The piece Woman Entwined is one of my repeated power images that reflects the feelings I have had of being “trapped” in my life. This tree-woman is bound by nature to the vines that surround her. The piece called Imploring refers to what appears to be a female tree, with arms outstretched, pleading to the departing “male” figure, who has apparently had enough! All of these interpretations are obviously metaphoric and symbolic, of course, and I hope they illuminate my art for the viewer.

ER: What’s Next? Can you tell us what’s coming down the pike? What to expect? Or is this something that you only know when you arrive at it?

MH: My art is totally intuitive. I don’t think about “theory” or concepts. Because my images are driven by motifs, I never know what to expect. I am open to the configurations and networks that originally attracted me to the subject. I do find that I am focusing more on multiple tree trunks with clear figurative elements, whose underpinnings hint at drama or relationships. I find my work is more prone now, than ever before, to establishing fables and myths about anthropomorphic figures from the woods. Witch and Bewitched is a good example of this direction.

By Edward Rubin, Contributing Writer

Mary Hrbacek: Peopled Forest of My Mind

Curated by Elga Wimmer

CREON Gallery 238 East 24 Street, 1B, NY, NY 10010

Norm Hinsey, Gallery Director: 646-265-5508

www.creongallery.com

HOURS: Wed. & Thurs. 6:30 -8 p.m., Sat. 12 – 6 p.m. or appt.

www.maryhrbacek.com