Page 21 - the Noise November 2017

riverS and canyonS of flowing color the watercolorS of erica fareio; a current of affairS
Since her artist “coming out” at Rainbow’s End almost 6 years ago to date, river guide Erica Fareio has made a name for herself as one of Flagstaff’s preeminent watercolor- ists. Her vibrant depictions of canyon walls and rushing water lend the artform a near fifth- dimensional quality, as her delicately laid “color washes” reveal with a preternatural ease the geological depths of her subject matter; all the while nuances peek out from her canvases, often compelling the viewer into a state of sonorous contemplation.
“The river boils, churns and swirls in an unpredictable path that will hopefully funnel you just to the right of the Ledge Hole, a feature at the top of the rapid which would surely shred your boat to pieces,” she says of her most recent work, Eye Of Odin (pictured at left). “If you have the courage to take your eyes off the quickening entry, maybe you can sneak a glance up at the Eye of Odin, a window in the columnar jointing of the ancient lava flows. It can only be seen from the river, at the top of the rapid and nowhere from shore or the scout.”
The Norse called Odin the god of knowledge and war, of healing and death, for upon vis- iting the Well of Wisdom, he begged its custodian, the cosmological spirit Mimir, for a drink from its cool waters. Mimir refused, unless Odin offered up an item of great importance in return. Odin complied, gouging out one of his own eyes and relinquishing it into the well, ushering the maxim, “nothing is too great a sacrifice for knowledge.”
Continues Ms. Fareio: “With his new found wisdom, Odin brought to mankind the runic alphabet and poetry. Whether or not you are able to make contact with the Eye of Odin in this highly charged moment of focus and fate on the river, The Eye sees all who dare to pass through Lava Fall’s gate!”
Eye of Odin is one among Ms. Fareio’s new series, “Where Are We Going?” currently show- cased at West of the Moon Gallery in downtown Flagstaff, with an Opening Reception this First Friday ArtWalk November 3, from 6-9PM.
Some versions of the myth of the “Well of Wisdom and Odin” tell of the well lying beneath the roots of Yggdrasill, the World Tree. Readers may immediately draw a connection to this month’s cover, but in reality, Ms. Fareio had another tale in mind when she drew in the lines of a knobbly Bristlecone twisting upward amongst tumbling slate, its branches heralding a radiating sun in a sapphire sky.
Alluding to the Bristlecone Pine Tree (pinus longaeva), whose members date 5,000 years and are the oldest living species in the world, she says: “These resilient beings survive at very high elevations, in extreme temperatures, harsh conditions and with very little water or soil.
“In the Fall of 2016, my 98-year old maternal Grandmother passed from her human form. Almost immediately, I thought of the Bristlecones. My Grandmother was very similar in character to these magnificent trees. She was tough, a straight shooter, and could thrive with very little. She was, ‘salt of the Earth.’
“I had remembered coming across these rare Bristlecones years before, up on our Moun- tain, on some random wander off the beaten path. I was enchanted by their silvery, smooth wood and how they seemed to be shaped by the wind ... After three unsuccessful solo hunts, my husband, son, and I decided we would search together one last time before the snow moved in for the Winter.
“We hiked waaaay up into the Inner Basin, and just about when we were ready to turn around, we saw them. There they were, up in the tree-line, their gnarled silhouettes plastered against the thin blue sky. We scrambled up the steep, volcanic scree to get a closer look. Among the 30 trees or so, there was one in particular that was undoubtedly ‘Gramma’s Tree.’ It had a
voluptuous, goddess figure and seemed to be dancing; Gramma danced into her early 90’s!
“I studied the tree and took pictures, which later I used to help create this painting. It was a great outing, made extra special by sharing it with family. Gramma lives on inside of us and in our hearts, but somehow it is comforting to know we can always go back and visit her tree.”
Even while living among the vast forests so close within reach here in Arizona, Ms. Fareio gives pause to current events shaping the natural world, and their ramifications for the future. She writes of sitting in her studio, contemplating the state of the world, the state of the country, and the “terribly awful characters” in leadership positions; “And I wonder, will these trees even survive this next generation?”
In her newest online platform, ReFramingLife.com, which features a healthy mix of her commissioned watercolors previously unseen, her gallery work, and some essays she’s forged over the past few months, Ms. Fareio expounds on the importance of the Bristlecone in a spirited poem that gives historical reference to the tree’s longevity. Citing the Bristle- cone’s infancy during the building of the Great Pyramids, its adolescence in King Arthur’s reign, and its adulthood at the time of the American Revolution, she laments,
“What are we to do besides make calls and write letters? I hang my head and sigh and my heart sinks deep inside, and then I remember the Old Trees and all they have survived. We are in the middle of the movie, just at one point in time. What the future will bring is still left undecided.”
She points to the Sacred Confluence in Grand Canyon, a unique geological formation threatened by “Escalade,” a mechanical tramway proposed by a Scottsdale developer who envisions 10,000 visitors a day shuttling down to a natural preserve considered pristine and heretoforeunblemishedbyindustry. FinancialinterestsarepushingavotefromtheNavajo Council, and has been the fear, backdoor dealings are at the heart of opposition.
“This development in no way, shape, or form would benefit Tribal Members or the Park, and it would be absolutely devastating to the delicate ecosystem which is home to a myriad of plants and animals, including endangered species,” imparts Ms. Fareio. “The develop- ment would desecrate one of the country’s most beloved wilderness shrines.”
Her depiction (above) of Escalade sinking into decay, its falling trellises and broken concrete forms enveloped by canyon walls, hearkens to a certain death of the development, even while its controversy continues to consume the community. A sought-after original at Flagstaff Arts Council’s “10x10 Exhibit” earlier this year, Ms. Fareio will have prints of the piece available at West of the Moon.
Of the current series, she writes:
Where are we going? Are you sure this is the way?
You said we were headed to the place we used to play.
What happened to the water, what happened to the trees? All I see is this dusty road, a bunch of rocks and weeds.
Where are we going? I think we’re lost.
Along with our innocence, how much did it cost?
I think we should turn around now, or maybe it’s too late?
To retrace our steps and reinvent our fate?
Look, even the birds are leaving and this smog burns my eyes. Please, let’s go home now, we might make it before sunrise.
www.thenoise.us | the NOISE arts & news | NOVEMBER 2017 • 21