Maybe because he was my first James Bond, he was the best.
This year in Annapolis, capital of Maryland, there was no July 4th parade featuring local politicians, floats with hula dancers, fire engines, candy tossed to waiting children, soldiers marching, bugles and drums.
I do some of my best writing in the dining room. It doesn’t matter if the table is round, square or flat. As I contemplate words, phrases and sentences, in the back of my mind I remember meals of grilled salmon, slender stalks of green asparagus, risotto and late night conversations over chili, chips and beer. With plenty of space to spread out papers, the room for entertaining guests and gathering family together for me is the heart of the home.
I thought I was writing it for children, but I was really writing it to answer all the questions people would ask me as an artist’s daughter–
Dad enjoyed the interaction of looking at student’s work and discussing with them what they thought they saw. He’d ask them questions and they would have to rethink how they’d put their perceptions down on paper, analyzing ways to make their work better. I sensed their respect and enjoyment of the class as soon as they entered the room and it made me feel proud.
“The Essential Herman Maril” is the title of the art show currently featured at Acme Fine Art in Boston. The exhibit of works selected by Gallery owners James Bennette and David Cowan provides the viewer with an opportunity to become acquainted with some of the subject themes important in my father’s life. . His careerContinue reading “Herman Maril, Africa, and Imagery”
When I was 15 years old, I traveled to Mexico with my parents. It was the first time any of us had visited another country (although my father had served in World War II, he was never shipped overseas). An artist and head of the studio department at the University of Maryland, College Park, myContinue reading “Remembering My Father Herman Maril”
We had a nice crowd of attendees on Sunday afternoon for the lecture on Herman Maril given by Provincetown Art Association and Museum (PAAM) Director Christine McCarthy and the release of the new Herman Maril book at University of Maryland University College (UMUC). But the best part of the event, in my opinion, was theContinue reading “Herman Maril’s Wardrobe”
Maril Book Evite_v5 Sunday December 4th at the University of Maryland, University College UMUC Inn and Conference Center Room 0105, the Director of the Provincetown Art Association and Museum, Christine McCarthy. will be leading a discussion on the work of American artist Herman Maril. My father Herman Maril, who died in 1986, was born inContinue reading “Herman Maril: An Artist’s Two Worlds”
Today is one of those fabulous brisk fall days you can only have in the Northeast. The sky is a brilliant blue and the leaves still hanging on the trees are various shades of red, orange, and yellow. The brown crumbly ones make a carpet to step upon as you walk down the street. SystematicallyContinue reading “Autumn Has Arrived in Annapolis”
Saturday I walked over 100 city blocks in New York City. Fortunately I brought my TCO (Total Contact Orthosis) brace ie clamshell for when I started to feel fatigued. It was also great protection elbowing our way off the train in crowded Penn Station. The occasion was the opening of the Herman Maril exhibition, entitledContinue reading “Herman Maril Exhibit Brings Family to New York”
An old family friend, Louise Rowles, died the end of August and her memorial service is this Sunday at the Park School in Brooklandville, Maryland. Long before I knew Louise and her husband Bill as good friends of my parents, Herman and Esta Maril, I knew Louise as Mrs. Rowles, my favorite librarian. As aContinue reading “Remembering Louise Rowles”
My two early children’s books: Me, Molly Midnight; the Artist’s Cat and Runaway Molly Midnight; the Artist’s Cat, gave me the opportunity to work together with my dad.
My father, the artist Herman Maril, dislocated his ankle– not only breaking bones, but tearing muscles, tendons, and ligaments when I was a child. It was a traumatic event, requiring the arrival of the Lower Cape Rescue Squad and ambulance, which took him Up Cape to Hyannis and Cape Cod Hospital in the dark ofContinue reading “A Lesson of Determination from My Father”
Indonesia was once a Dutch colony, and Historic Kota neighborhood with its 19th century style Dutch architecture is a major tourist attraction. We walked around the Taman Fatahillah Piaza, meandered into an adjacent museum devoted to arts and crafts (a disappointment) and then took refuge inside the Cafe Batavaia for a much needed break. Located on on side of the square, the Cafe has been kept very much as it must of appeared at the beginning of the 20th century with rich dark wood floor and bara, comfortable seats, drinks with ice….