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Andrew Wyeth died in his sleep last night at 91. There’s a beautifully written obituary in (of all places) my hometown paper, the Daily Camera. Here’s another, with more detail, from the NYTimes. Having grown up in Maine, the place of many of Wyeth’s paintings, his reputation always loomed large for me. I developed an early, unabashed love for his paintings, unaware they were at all controversial, or out of step with the times. His paintings of grass, hair, anything flossy, are enthralling. Golden. He was an inspiration. I do an awful lot of thinking and dreaming about things in the past and the future — the timelessness of the rocks and the hills — all the people who have existed there. - Andrew Wyeth | |
