Trinity College School - Record Yearbook (Port Hope, Ontario Canada)

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Somewhere in Pennsylvania ' s rolling countryside, along the Brandywine Creek waits Chadds Ford. While the plastic arts rage in New York City so far away, this tiny town, almost an anachronism, holds a man whose kind is rarely found. Born, raised, and planning to die in Chadds Ford, Andrew Wyeth paints the spirit of the land. Most of his work is done within walking distance of his simple home. Through the woods, and over some fields is Karl Kuerner ' s farm. Upstream, with its wheels rusted, sits Brintcn ' s Mill that the Quakers built. The land in between is Wyeth ' s world. His work shows a deep and experienced love for nature; but his scenes are not completely natural. Beneath the surface of the Tempera or water colours flow abstract undercurrents through the truth of his subjects. A man is older after he knows Wyeth ' s work. He is closer to the earth, and sees the rich- ness and dignity that might have passed unnoticed. Stumps, stalks of grass, and the piping of a bird against the dawn are faultlessly recorded in his praise of the menial and strange. RURAL AMERICA ' S ANDREW WYETH I think one ' s art goes as far and as deep as one ' s love goes. I see no reason for painting but that. If I have anything to offer, it is my emotional contact with the place where I live and the people I do. i 18

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Here there is an unspoiled innocence that the city folk cannot regain. His complete intimacy of soli- tude is almost a mystery to us. Through ignorance, we might call his work realism by virtue of its more than photographic accuracy. But names like that don ' t work in Wyeth ' s world. It ' s like giving a title to rain . As Wyeth says: When you start putting names on things, it gets to be something to do - for me all imagination disappears. To me, his paintings are too realistic. They go beyond the world and into the imagination and seems almost surrealistic. But then, there should not be a word for it, should there? We are dealing with something special. Plastics eventually decompose, conceptual art will die in its own conceit, and minimal art will dwindle to nothing. But Wyeth ' s paintings, like the earth, water, and air from which they were made, shall remain. For Wyeth has captured immortality. Rob Rutherford 19 Andrew Wyeth