
Dan Howe at the Kearcher-Monsell Gallery at Housatonic Valley Regional High School.
Natalia Zukerman
Dan Howe at the Kearcher-Monsell Gallery at Housatonic Valley Regional High School.
“Every picture begins with just a collection of good shapes,” said painter and illustrator Dan Howe, standing amid his paintings and drawings at the Kearcher-Monsell Gallery at Housatonic Valley Regional High School. The exhibit, which opened on Friday, March 7, and runs through April 10, spans decades and influences, from magazine illustration to portrait commissions to imagined worlds pulled from childhood nostalgia. The works — some luminous and grand, others intimate and quiet — show an artist whose technique is steeped in history, but whose sensibility is wholly his own.
Born in Madison, Wisconsin, and trained at the American Academy of Art in Chicago, Howe’s artistic foundation was built on rigorous, old-school principles. “Back then, art school was like boot camp,” he recalled. “You took figure drawing five days a week, three hours a day. They tried to weed people out, but it was good training.” That discipline led him to study under Tom Lovell, a renowned illustrator from the golden age of magazine art. “Lovell always said, ‘No amount of detail can save a picture that’s commonplace in design.’”
Training led to work. Early on, while still a graduate assistant at Syracuse University, Howe began painting portraits — chancellors, deans, and, later, an endless roster of chairmen and medical executives. It paid well, but Howe found that the job of a portraitist, even a highly skilled one, is ultimately limited. “They’re just the same thing, you know, just a guy in a suit. Later, maybe it was a girl in a suit,” said Howe.
Between commissions, he painted for himself. This show is a gathering of those moments — studies of his wife and daughters, mythic scenes painted for libraries, and Star Wars covers from his time living near Dark Horse Comics in Oregon.A large painting, originally commissioned for a library, shows a girl in an attic opening a trunk, imagination spilling into the room. The library remodeled and sent the painting back. Now it anchors a wall in the show.
Dan Howe’s work reflects the Brandywine School’s devotion to craftsmanship, narrative depth, and a luminous, almost nostalgic realism. Like Howard Pyle and N.C. Wyeth before him, Howe builds scenes using light and composition to evoke mood and meaning. His meticulous brushwork and layering techniques nod to the tradition of classical illustration, yet his work diverges in its contemporary stillness. Of Norman Rockwell, Howe said, “He’s of my era, and our styles are similar. Of course Rockwell is Rockwell. I’ve got a little more painterly, Sargent-esque stuff running through mine.” The influence is there, not as mimicry, but as a quiet echo, refined through his own aesthetic language. “I’m an anachronism,” he said, without regret. His influences form a lineage of illustrators whose work once filled the pages of The Saturday Evening Post and Collier’s. They understood, as Howe does, that a painting must be more than accurate.“Mood is everything,” said Howe, drawing a comparison between two paintings in the show — a couple by a fire — to an old Star Wars concept painting. “Same color scheme. Different world. Mood is everything.”
Teaching remains a passion for Howe. When he and his family moved to the east coast from Chicago, Howe taught a series at the Norman Rockwell Museum called “Painting Like Rockwell,” something he hopes to revive. “I like beginners,” he said. “They don’t have bad habits yet.”
Howe also runs a summer figure drawing workshop at HVRHS with an old-school approach. “You’ve just walked into a time machine — this is art school, 1965. Three hours of drawing in the morning, three in the afternoon. No cell phones.” His methods may be antiquated but the results are living proof that some things are worth preserving. “Maybe this stuff is so old it’s new again,” he mused.
As he hung his pieces for this show, Howe said teachers stopped by, connecting his images to their own memories. “That’s a success,” he said. “If a picture makes someone feel something, then it’s done its job.”
Patton Oswalt
Comedian and actor Patton Oswalt is well known for his standup routine as well as his roles in film and television. Oswalt made his acting debut in the Seinfeld episode, “The Couch” and has appeared in “Parks and Rec,” “Reno 911,” “Modern Family,” and “A.P. Bio.” He has done voice-over work for movies including “Ratatouille,” and had his own Netflix special. “Patton Oswalt: Talking for Clapping.”
Oswalt will present his unique brand of humor in a show titled “Effervescent” at the Mahaiwe Theater in Great Barrington, Massachusetts, on Saturday, March 22. With sardonic style, he makes keen observations about American culture and gives biting critiques of the current administration.
In a recent interview with the Lakeville Journal, Oswalt said,
“Things are so dark. It feels like they’re depending on craziness to bulldoze their stuff in. So, I’m using absurdity and almost surrealism to battle it. I also realize that when you’re coming into a show like this, you want some escape. It’s certainly not the whole set.”
“Politics used to be about getting stuff off of your plate so that you can live. Now it wants to dominate the news cycle and everyone’s emotions. So, in a weird way, comedy is an act of defiance,” he added.
Comedians like Richard Pryor and, more recently, Dave Chappelle pushed boundaries of taste and limits. George Carlin was quoted as saying, “I think it’s the duty of the comedian to find out where the line is drawn and cross it deliberately.” So, how far is too far and who decides?
“When you became a comedian, you signed up for having the ground continually cut from underneath you. That’s the deal you made. Comedy is an ephemeral art that doesn’t age very well, and you have to embrace that,” Oswalt said.
In recent years, political correctness has restrained the growth of comedy and free speech. Today, the pendulum seems to have swung in the opposite direction to the far right.
So, are there funny right-wing comedians?
“There have been comedians who are more conservative in their outlook, but they don’t make it their identity. I know some comedians who are right wing but are still good at doing comedy. It’s not that right wing comedians aren’t funny, it’s that there’s a lot of right wing people who think that they deserve to be funny. The failed comedian to right wing grifter pipeline is pretty short,” Oswalt said.
And how about politicians who think they’re funny and use their pulpit to bully?
“You have to know how to be funny. Fast forward to people who just want to break boundaries and are just cruel. They don’t understand what comedy is. The nightmare that Elon is putting us through is all because he wants to be cool, and he’s not. So, he’s gonna blow up the world. That’s an oversimplification, but it’s also accurate. He’s like the kid whose dad owns the rec-center and thinks that all the kids should like him, but he’s obnoxious and mean so no one wants to hang out with him,” Oswalt said.
Like many comedians, Oswalt tests out new material in small clubs and open mics. When asked if he receives any pushback on his politically pointed jokes, Oswalt said, “When you go out in the world, people are just kind of the same. I’m never saying anything that’s unreasonable, even when I’m making fun of stuff like religion, conservatism and especially, fascism. It’s not in a way that people can say, ‘No, wait a minute, fascism’s good!’ unless they’re just trolling.”
At this point in his career, Oswalt has developed his own fans who come to see him. He wins crowds over by staying welcoming of everyone.
“I’m a big believer that if you treat audiences with respect, they’ll come and meet you. I’m always excited to be in front of people,” he added.
With surprise as a key element to any new show, Oswalt won’t divulge the nature of his new act, but he guarantees it will feature new material.
“Look at how accelerated the news has gotten. Who knows what I’ll be talking about by the time I get to Great Barrington!” he said.
For tickets to Patton Oswalt’s show, go to: mahaiwe.org
Kevin Elam, left, and Jesse Ofgang, right, entertained guests at the NorthEast-Millerton Library Annex on March 5 with an array of Irish and Scottish musical fare.
Acclaimed Irish flutist Desi Wilkinson advises musicians to “Play only tunes and songs you’re mad about … Emulate what you like and then do your thing.” It’s advice Jesse Ofgang and Kevin Elam have seemingly taken to heart as part of their “Prelude to St. Patrick’s Day” tour which landed at the NorthEast-Millerton Library Annex on March 5, where the Celtic-flavored duo found themselves playing to a nearly full house on a wet and windy Wednesday.
While neither Ofgang nor Elam is originally from Ireland, their musical souls are firmly connected to both the Emerald Isle and the Highlands. While Ofgang claims partial Irish heritage through his mother and believes his musical partner is not of Irish descent, Elam’s resumé is filled with accomplishments in Irish music. He took top prize in 2019 in men’s English singing at the Fleadh Cheoil na hÉireann competition in Drogheda, Ireland and has medaled at both the All-Ireland Fleadh and CCE Mid-Atlantic Fleadh competitions. Despite his Irish roots, Ofgang’s musical focus is actually across the Irish Sea, where he earned a master’s degree in Scottish music and bagpipes. As a student, he performed with the 16-time world champion Shotts and Dykehead Caledonia Pipe Band.
Both musicians are multi-instrumentalists. Elam, the duo’s vocalist, is skilled in tin whistle, bouzouki, banjo, mandolin and guitar while Ofgang, a bagpiper, has mastered uilleann pipes and border pipes as well as the Irish flute and whistles, organ, guitar and piano. In addition to touring — together and separately — Ofgang and Elam both provide instruction to students in musical instrumentation.
“Prelude to St. Patrick’s Day,” which wrapped up on March 9 in Middletown, Connecticut, featured an array of Celtic tunes and songs. According to Ofgang, there’s a difference between the two. By definition, songs include lyrics and tunes consist strictly of music. Ofgang and Elam included both in their hour-long set at the Library Annex, which began with “The Foggy Dew,” a song lamenting Ireland’s political divide and the resulting violence of the Easter uprising, which was followed by a jig, “The Road to Lisdoonvarna.”
“Rocky Road to Dublin” drew an enthusiastic response from the crowd as did the folk song, “The Lakes of Pontchartrain,” which Elam and Ofgang introduced as a song about alligators. The ballad is actually of unknown origin and its subject matter centers on a Creole woman and the unrequited love a drifter holds for her in the Deep South. The duo believes the song may very well have been penned by an Irish immigrant to the United States.
Elam and Ofgang invited the crowd to join them in “The King’s Shilling,” another song exploring the realities of war with its introspective chorus “Come ladies, come. Hear the cannons roar. Take the King’s shilling and we’re off to war.”
The duo then segued over to Scottish fare with the audience joining in once more for “Auld Lang Syne,” traditionally sung on New Year’s Eve, but the song is also used to close out occasions — ver as the evening slowly wound down. Ofgang, assisted by Elam, then wrapped up the night with traditional Scottish bagpipes, a worthy overture to St. Patrick’s Day 2025.
The concert was sponsored by the Ann and Abe Effron Donor Advised Fund of the Community Foundations of the Hudson Valley. Library director Rhiannon Leo-Jameson said the library is looking into additional grants to fund further programming for community enjoyment. For more information, visit nemillertonlibrary.org.
Shelf ice on the Blackberry River last week. Do not stand on shelf ice. It's a great way to get hurt.
I’ve got a bad case of the Shack Nasties.
With a slight change in the weather I ventured out Wednesday and Thursday, March 5 and 6.
First I scouted a couple of little blue lines. No good. Still too much ice and snow for solid footing.
Since I am nursing a rotator cuff injury and my right pinky toe still aches from when I cleverly slammed it into the furniture two months ago, I am not in the mood for adventurous wading.
That left the Blackberry.
At one spot the shelf ice was still in effect. It was theoretically fishable but I kept going to Beckley Furnace, where the big pool beneath the dam was clear.
I pounded it hard, starting with junk flies such as squirmy worms and brightly-colored mops.
Then I got cute with a double-nymph rig: a little black stone on a dropper and a Bread and Butter nymph with a tungsten head on point to drag the whole thing down into the depths.
I managed two bumps. One could have been a hangup but I’m counting it as a bump.
Downstream below the second, smaller dam the shelf ice presented serious challenges.
There’s really only one way to get rid of shelf ice besides waiting for it to melt.
That is to stand on it and break it.
This is an excellent way to break up shelf ice.
It is also an excellent way to sprain or break an ankle.
Maybe it’s old age creeping up on me, but somehow I am not inclined to take the chance.
Imagine really banging yourself up mere weeks before fishing starts in earnest, and then sitting sullenly in a dark room watching old Filipino horror movies as the broken or sprained element heals while outside trout are merrily gobbling up bugs after the long winter.
Thursday I went further afield. Furnace Brook in Cornwall, always an early season favorite, was roaring after the inch-plus of rain we got Wednesday night.
That left Macedonia Brook in Kent, which was actually fishable above the waterfall.
I probed that for a couple hours with a Tenkara rod and a series of darkish nymphs that could be mistaken for an early black stonefly.
Or just something to eat. I doubt any holdover trout in there are all that picky about the menu.
I managed to tickle precisely one small brown trout.
In fact I messed with that little guy for about an hour.
It went like this:
Cast. Drift into strike zone. Lift out before fly gets stuck in brush buildup. Watch bemusedly as little brown trout pecks at nymph on the way up.
Cast three or four more times with no result. Sit on rock. Ponder the infinite. Consider changing fly. Conclude it makes no difference. Watch passenger car slither around on muddy dirt road.
After 10 minutes of this, drift nymph into strike zone and miss fish again. Sit back down on boulder…
Standard operating procedure in these cases is to say, “Oh well. At least it was nice to get out.”
This is baloney. It was cold and windy and nobody with any sense would go out and stand in cold water just for the sake of getting out of the house.
But…
I didn’t injure myself. My waders didn’t leak. I was wondering if I could get an orthotic insert into the wader boot without problems. I could.
I didn’t break or lose any equipment other than a black conehead Wooly Bugger, size 8, which was claimed by the tree that is sticking into the Beckley pool.
And I didn’t get stuck in the mud on the seriously gooey Macedonia State Park road.
So this initial salvo of the 2025 campaign goes in the win column.