Long-time Seattle art critic Regina Hackett takes a wider view of Andrew Wyeth:
Wyeth backed himself into a corner of a particular place rooted in land and family and painted his fear of the world. With a desperate and dry exactitude, he documented every inch of what mattered to him. He aimed for sentimentality but didn't get there.... Wyeth is the American version of Edvard Munch, literal where Munch is flowing but tapping into the same emotional territory. Wyeth's scream is that there is no scream. He's the painter of a vast suppression, what it took for him to pass for normal in the countryside.I have to agree with that too, as inspirational as Wyeth's meticulous documentation of his surroundings has been to me.
Read the rest at Another Bouncing Ball.
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