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ON THE GO: Up at dawn and out until after sunset, the indefatigable Norwegian artist hiked up, down, around, within, around, over, and under every obstacle. 'Daybreak,' by Steve Henderson, 9 x 12, oil on canvas. (Courtesy of Steve Henderson Fine Art)
When you live with a professional fine artist who snaps non-stop reference photos each outing, you don’t “vacation.” But that being said, work is pretty fun when it’s happening at the Grand Canyon, Zion, and Bryce national parks.
We recently spent a chunk of time camping in southern Utah’s and Arizona’s assorted rock collections—me; my husband, the Norwegian Artist; two of the progeny; and the Norwegian’s camera.
Unlike the throngs that we avoided by hiking trails no one else wanted to explore, we had only the one camera—one of those old-fashioned things that slings around the Norwegian Artist’s neck, and you can’t make calls on it.
DROP-OFF: It's not as scary as it looks because you would bump your way to the bottom instead of falling straight down. 'Morning at Hopi Point,' by Steve Henderson, 20 x 18, oil on canvas. (Courtesy of Steve Henderson Fine Art)
But the great thing about being at the bottom of a canyon, or at the top of it overlooking a 5,000-foot drop-off, is that there is no phone service, so that the throngs can’t make calls either. People accommodate this inconvenience by stepping back, holding out their arms, peering through a 2-inch square, and taking picture after picture.
Our favorite was the woman in the Grand Canyon who leaped, nymph-like, to the top of every overhanging rock, turned her back to the drop-off below, and smiled at her husband, who smiled back, held out his arm, and clicked. His easygoing acquiescence to her antics suggested that the life insurance policy was generous and paid up.
But this couple was by no means alone in either shudder or shutter activity. People of all ages denied gravity’s existence while their companions took photos for Facebook, Twitter, and America’s Insane and Inane Moments.
For the first time in my married life, I encountered humans who took more photos than my Norwegian Artist, and the only explanation I have is that there must be a tremendous surge of fine artists taking reference photos, and the world should be ready for a flood of national-park-themed paintings over the next six months.
Somehow, I don’t think so.
The Norwegian Artist, by the way, was in raptures. It’s not as if there are no rocks where we live, but they don’t tend to be fiery-red (Bryce), 1,000-feet high (Zion), or plunging a mile to a ribbon of a river below (the Grand Canyon).
He awoke before dawn and walked, shuttle-bused, drove, or crawled to a rock formation and exercised that right index finger. Sunset found him nestled among more rocks. In between, he hiked indefatigably up, down, across, over, around, and within the stones.
BEYOND MEMORY: A painting done by a skilled professional painter transports the viewer to a different time and place even if the viewer has never been there. 'Descent into Bryce,' by Steve Henderson, 18 x 18, oil on canvas (Courtesy of Steve Henderson Fine Art)
Scary Heights
I don’t know how many times I heard this comment: “It’s not as scary as it looks.”
And to his credit, it generally wasn’t as scary as it looked—a 30-foot drop or so to the next outcropping, which fell another 30 feet, and so on to the bottom.
“You wouldn’t bump far before you stopped, and the stones and trees would impede you long before you got to the real drop-off,” he assured me.
Lest the man sound too cavalier, he only speaks this calmly because he knows that I keep a 6-foot clearance from the edge. The words and voice he uses with our Son-and-Heir, who inherits his father’s mountain-goat genes, are less measured and serene.
NO-CALL ZONE: At the bottom of a canyon, there is, mercifully, no cell phone service. This does not stop people from using their phones as cameras, however. 'Last Light in Zion,' by Steve Henderson, 30 x 30, oil on canvas. (Courtesy of Steve Henderson Fine Art)
Step for step, the Son-and-Heir matched the Norwegian, but after the first five miles of the day, daughter Tired-of-Being-Youngest and I dropped out to stroll the gift shops. With this easy compromise, harmony reigned, and in two weeks, the Norwegian Artist packed three digital photo cards with reference shots, four if you count the one he “borrowed” from Youngest—2,000 images total.
Why so many? When you live 1,500 miles away from an area, plein air isn’t an option.
Back on the farm, the Norwegian Artist was barely out of the car before he was in front of the easel, transforming white canvas to a fantastic fusion of blues and purples and oranges and reds—and transporting us back in memory, place, and time to a place that people want to remember because it is so awe-inspiringly beautiful.
That’s why the throngs snap so many pictures of it.
But as the wife of not only an artist, but the Norwegian one, allow me a word of advice: If you want to experience the beauty of Zion, or the Grand Canyon, or Bryce, or any of our many national treasures—whether or not you’ve ever actually been there—then look for a painting or a print of a painting done by a skilled artist who sees and can interpret what he sees.
That way, no matter where you are, you can be in that place.Carolyn Henderson is the Polish Manager of the Norwegian Artist, managing Steve Henderson Fine Art (Stevehendersonfineart.com), which showcases the work of the Norwegian Artist. A freelance writer, Carolyn is also the creator of the Middle Aged Plague humor column, which appears in newspapers and on her blog site: Middleagedplague.areavoices.com.
