Working Through Loss with Art: Kari Radl's Wisconsin Farmscapes

East on windmill

Mourning and issues of loss can begin for us even before our loved one has actually died.  We see the eventuality coming sooner rather than later, and can gradually lose the person we knew to infirmity or dementia.  These changes and losses are daunting issues to deal with on top of the caregiving demands and difficult decisions that often accompany the decline of a vibrant and independent person.

NW at 3496 Hwy 138

Just as art and ritual can help us to grapple with overwhelming issues in the wake of death, engaging in an artistic exploration during the times leading up to death can be meaningful and helpful too.  Currently on display at the Firefly Coffee House Gallery in Oregon, Wisconsin, is the moving work of artist, Kari Radl.  The daughter of woodworker and teacher, Skip Johnson, whose stories have been shared on this site in the past, Kari turned to an artistic exercise to help deal with her father's illness and death.

Outside Blanchardville

Here, from her artist statement, is the story behind these paintings:

In December of 2006, my father was diagnosed with brain cancer. This series of paintings began while we fought this enemy. After the craniotomy, while he healed, I painted. You can see my techniques slowly grow and mature throughout the series. He fought for 3 years.  Except for the singular painting of my parents resting place in North Carolina, all of the landscapes I painted are located here in beautiful Wisconsin. The direction I was facing, the name of the road and gps locations are in the title for those interested in a real journey through the true Wisconsin Farmscapes.

NW on Bellbrook

Skip and Joan 2010 Southfacing

W on Bellbrook

For more of this work, visit Ms. Radl's show, Wisconsin Farmscapes, A Retrospective; on view at The Firefly Coffee House Gallery, 114 North Main St., Oregon, WI through the end of February 2011.  

For More about Skip Johnson, visit:

Skip Johnson: Former Boy Wonder, and All Around Good Guy

and

Cemetery Mystery Puzzles State Workers

Skip Johnson: Former Boy Wonder, and All Around Good Guy

C.R. Skip Johnson, a wonderfully unique, sweet, witty and irreverent man, passed away on Wednesday morning. Skip was a world renowned woodworker and a respected and beloved educator. In January, I posted a story by Doug Moe, about the cemetery Skip built on his farm. It consists of styrofoam monuments that mark the passing of things like 2 cent library fines, 5 cent beers, and Skip's neckties. And now I am saying goodbye to him.

Stoughton- C.R. Skip Johnson, former boy wonder, passed away at HospiceCare in Fitchburg at age 81, on Wednesday, September 9, 2009. He was born in Painted Post, NY on June 14, 1928, a son of Murray and Wilma (Reynolds) Johnson. Skip served his country in the Navy, where he met his wife, Joan Lage. Skip and Joan were united in marriage on December 15, 1951. Skip was one of the first three graduates of the Wood Program at RIT, and continued his education at many places, including the UW Madison, where he was a professor of woodworking from 1967 until his retirement. Even after retirement, Skip continued his role as an educator in all aspects of his life. He was a wonderfully creative man with a great sense of humor, and was loved by all who knew him. In addition to being a world renowned master woodworker and a master of hi-jinks, Skip enjoyed horse shoes, gardening, travel, curling, and beer. He is survived by his son, Christofer (Michelle) Johnson; daughter, Kari Jo (Tim) Radl; sister-in-law, JoAnn Johnson; and nieces and nephews. He was preceded in death by his son, Eric; wife, Joan; and brother, Don. A celebration of Skip’s life will be held on Saturday, September 12, 2009 from 3:00 to 6:00 pm at the Johnson Homestead. Memorials in Skip’s name may be made to Penland School of Crafts, or to public radio station WORT.

A funny thing happened on the way to Skip's obituary. His family gave me the choice of the three photos shown here to use in the newspaper. It took me about 30 seconds to decide that opening the newspaper to the obituary section and seeing Skip with his tongue sticking out, would bring a smile to his many many friends. Unfortunately, a hour after the deadline, I got a frantic call from the newspaper.

"My editor is having a heart attack over this picture! He says it's sacrilegious and disrespectful, and he will not run it under any circumstances. Could you please send us a different picture?"

So, Skipper, I'm sorry, but we wouldn't want to give a newspaper editor a heart attack would we? Instead, I sent in the handsome picture at the top of this post. I must say, though, that no one ever wants to be seen on the obituary page, no matter how handsome the picture is. I know that Skip didn't want to die, and none of us wanted him to die either. Quite simply, death and dying suck. And while sticking your tongue out at death won't stop it from coming, it can still make you feel a little better.

It is a difficult thing for an undertaker to care for a friend, but it is also a great honor, and a wonderful opportunity to perform one last act of kindness for someone you love.

Skip, I am grateful for your friendship, for your many gifts to this world, and for the opportunity to take you back home one last time.

October 14 update: Here is another article
about Skip by Doug Moe - "A toast to the man who kept a beer bottle in his back
pocket" http://host.madison.com/wsj/news/local/doug_moe/article_d0714760-b1f2-11de-bb1f-001cc4c03286.html

Cemetery Mystery Puzzles State Workers

Skip Johnson

Photo: Henry Koshollek

http://www.madison.com/wsj/home/column/moe/430483

Written by Doug Moe in madison.com January 2, 2009

One afternoon last month at a farmhouse west of Stoughton, a man knocked on the door, announced he was from the state of Wisconsin and said he wanted to talk about burial grounds. The house's owner, C.R. "Skip" Johnson, didn't have the faintest idea what the man was talking about, but he invited him in anyway. Johnson, 80, is a retired UW-Madison professor of art, a nationally known wood artist and craftsman, and a character much-loved by his many friends and admirers. One of them, David Peterson, himself a retired UW-Extension professor of music and theater, was at the house last month when the burial ground guy came by. That afternoon, the man explained that he was a consulting archeologist with the state of Wisconsin. The state was considering some road work on Highway 138, and their paperwork showed there had once been a burial ground on the property near the highway. It might impact construction plans." I was looking at Dave and we were both wondering what the hell he was talking about," Johnson was recalling recently. A burial ground? If anything, Johnson was feeling fortunate to be on this side of the ground himself. Two and a half years ago, he was diagnosed with a brain tumor about "the size of a lemon," as he puts it. He had surgery to remove it, and his subsequent recovery has been remarkable. "I've confounded the doctors," he said. They confounded him, too, by suggesting he might not want to drink beer any longer. The other day he was having an O'Doul's, not altogether happily. Johnson has to watch himself -- "I slide sideways sometimes," he said -- but he hasn't lost his irreverence. Grabbing a cane as he stood up, he said, "This is the cane I use to go find my other cane." Johnson's puckish sense of humor is sometimes reflected in his work. He once created several pig silhouettes that when displayed were good enough to convince at least one neighbor that Skip was raising pigs. And so it was that during the burial ground discussion in December, something clicked for Peterson. "Hey, Skip, wait a minute," he said. "You know what he's talking about." Johnson had always enjoyed visiting small cemeteries around Dane County. He liked reading the inscriptions on the tombstones.He's not alone in that. There's even a book, by Nigel Rees, titled, "I Told You I Was Sick: A Grave Book of Curious Epitaphs," devoted to the topic. The epitaph in the book's title is from a stone in the Key West cemetery. There are reports -- unconfirmed -- that somewhere in Dane County there is a grave stone with the epitaph, "She finally sleeps alone."

Buried, but not forgotten in Skip Johnson's Cemetery: 5 cent beers, 2 cent library fines and Skip's neck ties

Photo Kari Radl

http://www.madison.com/wsj/home/column/moe/430483

After one such cemetery outing 25 years ago -- in the summer of 1983 -- the artist decided to create his own. "I made the stones out of insulating foam," he explained recently. Johnson decided to "bury" various things that were, as he said, "gone or no longer wanted." Johnson's cemetery -- presided over by a fearsome-looking vulture -- included stones for 10-cent beer; 5-cent coffee; 2-cent library fines; Nehru jackets; Johnson's own neckties; and several more. From the highway, it probably looked like a real cemetery, and it somehow found its way onto some state of Wisconsin paperwork. The confusion a quarter of a century later should only add to Skip Johnson's considerable legend. To take a tour of his house, and his studio that's nearby on the property, is to witness an astonishing display of woodworking art. A favorite piece is a broken North Carolina ore car that Johnson re-configured with the wheels on top and the "ore" spilling out onto the floor. The piece is also a working liquor cabinet. "He was one of the pioneers of the concept of wood in the arts," Peterson said. Originally from New York state, Johnson joined the UW faculty in 1965. He has a devoted cadre of former students, and not only because he occasionally held seminars at Genna's, the University Avenue bar Johnson preferred over the more traditionally popular 602 Club. On that afternoon last month, the state archeologist decided that foam tombstones probably wouldn't interfere with any upcoming road improvements. It's just as well Skip Johnson didn't tell him about the vulture.