The land.
I traveled from Seattle to Eastern Washington on February 13-14 to scout locations for a new series of landscape paintings. My subject is the Naches Heights, about ten miles outside of Yakima, Washington (which is about 142 miles from Seattle.) I selected this region for a few reasons: the shapes and colors of the landscape remind me of 19th century French impressionist paintings of the countryside. My maternal grandmother's line originates from an ancient French village, Loudun, situated in the Loire Valley, France. The Loire is both considered the breadbasket of France as much as it is known as the "Valley of the Kings" of France. So, in my mind, the comparison of the two agricultural regions is valid. (smiling.) This project is especially meaningful to me because it is the home of my family on my mom's side.
My mom's family settled in the Naches Heights around 1916-1920. Four generations in my family worked this land and continue to do so. They made their livelihood raising apples, cherries, and pears. My mom, Brenda, is one of four kids raised in the Heights by my grandparents Harvey and Edythe. My mom’s eldest brother, Paul, purchased the apple orchards from my grandmother after my grandfather died in 1957. Apple harvest in September prevented my Uncle Tom, a former school teacher, from growing apples. So he chose to grow cherries instead, harvesting the fruit during the summer break. Now retired from teaching, Tom still grows cherries and pears and sells to local farmers markets. My other uncle, Steve, is an oyster farmer on the western side of the state, "the Coast" as they call it in the Heights.
My Uncle Tom and I spend two afternoons driving through acres of orchards and miles and miles of roads in the Heights. The imagery is overwhelmingly beautiful.
The land is untouched by time and is a nurturing source of home for me. I am soaking up the rural, agricultural land where I spent my childhood years-holidays, summers.
In my memory, I go back to the 1970s and 80s of my youth, where I played in the orchards and climbed the rock buttes formed by volcanic activity about a millions years ago. I remember as a kid building forts made of wooden apple crates in the sage brush fields at my Uncle Tom's ranch, where I retreated from the hot summer sun with my Orange Crush and read comic books.
My uncle was patient as I repeatedly asked him to stop the car so I could get out and shoot pictures of what I was seeing.
At the end of the second day of scouting for locations, I returned by myself to a spot off the Naches Heights road, near where my mom and her brothers grew up. I located a view point and parked the car. I gathered my pencils and journal and went to sit on a bolder near the side of the road. I opened my journal, looked out at the landscape, absorbed the atmosphere, and began to draw. It was just me and the land. I am flooded with memories of my family. This land and the collective memories of my relatives accompany me as I begin to draw.
My first impression: It is so quiet and serene.
The only sounds are the occasional passing car. And every now and then, the cooing and chirping of the finches, the rustle of the wind through the sage bushes.
My imagination, stoked by family stories of yesteryear, takes me back in time, before I was born. I can picture in my mind's eye possible scenes as they unfold. I imagine my grandmother Edythe, taking her morning coffee in peaceful solitude, watching the sun rise, before her family awakens and the house comes alive.
I think of my maternal grandfather, Harvey, and his brothers, who were growers, having inherited this profession from their father, Paul W. (P.W.) who came to settle the area. I wonder what their lives were like as they worked the land with the tools and machinery of the day. Farming is hard work no matter what era.
My second impression: Gratitude for this land.
The land is so beautiful. More so now. Once, this land was the backdrop of my youth. Now, as an adult, I experience the land as a reminder of my family, which makes me appreciate the land so much more now than I did as a kid.
For this period of time while I draw, I am one with my family. Many of my family members who played such a vivid roll in my childhood--my mother, my maternal grandmother, great aunts and great uncles, have passed on. And at the same time, I feel them incredibly alive and present as I sit upon my rock, the wind circulating around me, carrying the scent of sage. Sitting on the land where they once lived and worked for several generations brings me closer to my relatives in a comforting way. I feel the past connected to the present moment. I am in the eternal now.
The land is a life force. It serves as a bridge through time.
Mary Lamery is a lifelong resident and native of the Pacific Northwest.
Lamery paints regional landscape in a manner that leans towards 19th century French Impressionism. She will be showing a series of painted landscapes of Naches Heights, made en plein air, in July 2015 at the Seattle Art Museum, SAM Gallery.
To see galleries of her work and details of the July 2015 show, please visit www.mlamery.com