Getting to know a wildlife artist

Growing up in Tuscarawas County in eastern Ohio, local artist Ann Dysinger was studying wildlife at an early age.

After World War II, her father started the county's water conservation district where her father would survey the watershed. He shared his knowledge with his five children, the oldest being Ann.

"My dad being in the watershed, he had and taught us kids about the wildlife and information like what it takes to keep them living, what type of habitat and food they need and how they live," explained Dysinger.

She shared that her family was always outdoors - camping on the lake from April to October, walking through the woods on weekends the campgrounds were closed and hunting during the seasons. "Since I was the oldest, dad would take me hunting. We both had our licenses, and if he took me hunting, we could get more game. With five kids in the family, we ate a lot of wild game!" exclaimed Dysinger.

She started drawing as a 10-year-old. "My grandmother gave me a set of oil pastels for Christmas, and there was a magazine called Fur-Fish-Game. It's still in circulation now and Chuck Ripper would always do the cover. I'd grab it during trips into town and bring it home. Then, I'd go up to my bedroom and I would redraw Chuck Ripper's artwork in my sketchbook with my oil pastels and try to learn how to do things that way."

Then when she was 12 years old, a neighboring farmer hired her to catalog the livestock. "Working with a farm drawing milk cows really encouraged me to do more paintings," said Dysinger. "To register the cows, you had to draw all of the spots. I would draw them for the farmer's registration papers, and he would give me a quarter for each cow. I remember one day I got $12 and thought I was rich!" she laughed.

Dysinger is a self-taught painter; the only "schooling" she had was from her own father. "My dad was my worst critic. He said he wasn't going to hang crappy paintings in his home," she laughed. "When I would draw, he would help me with proportion and tell what was wrong. He's really a hard critic, so you tried really hard not to make a faux pas in front of dad."

Dysinger paints as accurately as she can, right down to the proper number of feathers on a turkey. "When I do a painting, I don't just paint a lion or a giraffe. You have to know what kind of habitat they live in and what they eat so that you have all of the elements in the picture correctly," she noted.  "You have to pay attention to a whole scheme of things like on game birds, they have an exact number of feathers on their primary and their tail feathers. Turkeys always have no more than 18 feathers on their tail, so if you would paint a turkey and put 22 feathers up there, someone is going to notice. I'd be embarrassed if somebody found out; that's why I pay attention to all of the elements."

Dysinger gets her information from researching the animals. She spends time on the over 400 acres of land at Thorn Bottom, taking photographs and observing the animals' physical characteristics and movements.

After taking her reference photographs, Dysinger works to create a narrative to attribute to each piece. "I want my pictures to tell you a story," said Dysinger. "One of the ones that told the best story was The Cat Did It. In the photography, the Brittany (Spaniel) was laying on the ground looking at my son, but when I painted it, I put the dog in a bed of tulips, and then I have a lady standing beside him in a broom and a skirt looking down at him. He's looking up at her, and there are broken tulips all around and I called it The Cat Did It."

The Cat Did It won the People's Choice award this past year in the Richeson75 Animals, Bird and Wildlife show as well as "Best Brittany" and third place in "Best Oil Painting" at the Kansas dog show. She has also won several other awards recently including Best of Show for "Lyin' Lion" at the Irving Art Association's annual juried wildlife exhibit. She has also painted pieces for the Republican National Convention and people in other countries like Italy and New Zealand.

Most recently, Dysinger was honored for her artwork by the state of Ohio. "It was a show put on by the Ohio Arts Council and I got the notice that they were looking for entries to display in the mansion, the governor's residence or the offices. They wanted scenes from Ohio but nothing with people in it, so I sent in some pictures. They had around 600 people enter over one thousand pieces and they chose about 75 to display. I was lucky enough to get the first bedroom in the residence!" exclaimed Dysinger.

Dysinger continues to create artwork in other ways like engraving memorials at Swan Memorials and participating in shows through the Wassenberg Art Center. She looks forward to continuing to create artwork for people to relate to their own personal lives and test her own knowledge of wildlife.

Out of the vault and into view

She's a second-year medical student, so her mind usually is focused on diseases, drugs and cures.

But as Laura Heuermann hustles between classes, her eye will sometimes catch one of the oil paintings in a third-floor hallway of the Omaha medical school where she spends up to eight hours a day.

About a dozen of the pieces found in the school on the University of Nebraska Medical Center campus are on loan from the Joslyn Art Museum.

Step into your local public library, school or hospital and you might spot art on loan from a museum. While museums are probably better known for loaning pieces to each other, they also lend to colleges, historic homes and similar places.

It's not uncommon for art institutions to make such loans as a way to expose people to art and strengthen the reputation of museums as inviting places, museum organizations say. Such loans are good, but must be done the right way — including maintaining the proper temperature and security — to keep the artwork safe, said Ford W. Bell, president of the American Association of Museums.

Bell said artwork lent to non-museums typically won't be a museum's most valuable pieces.

"You won't see a Rembrandt being loaned to community centers,'' he said.

Still, he said, museums have many high quality pieces that might not find their way out of storage and into public view unless they are lent out.

Bell said there is a concern in the museum industry about "warehousing," which involves museums aggressively collecting pieces but displaying only a fraction of their collection at any one time. Lending to non-museums is one way to address that concern.

"There is an increasing push to get art out (to) the public,'' Bell said.

For years, the Sheldon Museum of Art in Lincoln has lent exhibitions to such places as public libraries and colleges through its Sheldon Statewide outreach program. Since the 1980s, the Museum of Nebraska Art in Kearney has lent to similar places, including the Methodist Women's Hospital in Omaha and the same UNMC building that contains the Joslyn art.

The Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City, Mo., lends pieces for the offices of state legislators and members of Missouri's congressional delegation. The University of Iowa Museum of Art has lent works to colleges in the region. The Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C., lends exhibitions nationwide to such places as zoos, shopping malls and schools through its traveling exhibition service.

Jack Becker, executive director of the Joslyn, said it's important to expose people to as many of the Joslyn's pieces as possible and the loan to UNMC helps accomplish that goal.

Heuermann, the medical student, said she occasionally stops between classes to look at the artwork.

Viewing the paintings, she said, provides a "sense of relief" from the stress of medical school.

"It reminds you that there is something else going on in the world other than studying all day,'' said Heuermann, from Grand Island, Neb.

Several of the Joslyn paintings at the med school are soothing landscapes. One, "A Tranquil Morning," shows tall trees with long leaves blowing in a breeze. Another, "Landscape Near Oxford, Nebraska," depicts rolling farmland and a narrow dirt road that stretches out to the horizon.

Dr. Jim Linder, a UNMC faculty member who helped arrange the Joslyn loan, said it involved about a dozen pieces displayed in a hallway of the Sorrell Center for Health Science Education. The $52.7 million building opened in 2008. It houses most medical school programs and also serves students in nursing, pharmacy and other health fields.

He said a key goal was to make the atmosphere of the Sorrell Center more relaxing and inviting for students, faculty and visitors. He said the pieces generally are by artists with Nebraska ties.

Linder said UNMC appointed a committee of faculty and students to select art for the Sorrell Center. The committee, using private funds, also purchased art at auctions and from galleries and artists, he said. When the building opened in 2008, it had pieces from nearly 50 Nebraska artists.

About two years ago, Linder said he and other committee members approached the Joslyn about art loans. The Joslyn said the pieces first were lent to UNMC in 2010.

Asked if UNMC must return the artwork by a certain date, the Joslyn said there is a procedure to review the loan on a regular basis.

When museums lend artwork to a non-museum, handlers must make certain it's properly cared for.

Deborah Long, senior objects conservator at the Gerald R. Ford Conservation Center in Omaha, said it's crucial to avoid fluctuations in temperature and relative humidity to protect artwork from damage.

She said museums strive to keep their galleries at a steady temperature, generally between 65 and 72 degrees, depending on the type of artwork. Humidity generally should be between 40 percent and 50 percent, she said.

Swings in temperature or humidity can make a painting's canvass expand and contract, causing the paint to loosen over time, said Long, whose center is a division of the Nebraska State Historical Society.

Long said a building with a modern heating and cooling system, even if it's not a museum, has the potential to keep the climate at the right levels to protect artwork.

Proper lighting also is important, she said. Artwork holds up best in low and indirect lighting, she said. Sunlight and other sources of ultraviolet light can cause colors to fade.

Becker, the Joslyn director, said the proper climate, lighting conditions and security are in place at the Sorrell Center to protect the art. The requirements for those issues were outlined in a loan agreement between the Joslyn and UNMC, he said.

Becker said the art loan to UNMC was arranged before he took over as executive director in April 2010.

Asked to provide details on the security, the Joslyn said "to disclose security would be to weaken it."

UNMC officials said there are security cameras throughout the building and security patrols. The building is locked overnight on weekdays and throughout the weekend, although UNMC students and employees of the Sorrell Center have access with security cards.

For security reasons, Becker said, the museum does not discuss the value of pieces in its collection, including those on loan.

The Joslyn said that the pieces lent to UNMC are originals, except for two reproductions of works by Karl Bodmer.

Jennifer Marshall, an art history professor at the University of Minnesota, reviewed a list of the art lent by the Joslyn to the UNMC, and said some of the works were by artists with national or international reputations such Constance Richardson and William Malherbe.

Linder said that by sharing the pieces, Joslyn officials are helping UNMC and the community.

"They are doing more than hiding it in their vault,'' he said. "The real challenge of a museum is to make sure the public is seeing their art."

Lynchburg woman was child model for Rockwell painting

One of Norman Rockwell’s models for one of his most famous paintings has been living in the Lynchburg area for nearly 20 years.

Rockwell’s iconic illustration, “The Problem We All Live With,” depicts Ruby Bridges, a brave 6-year-old in New Orleans who broke new ground for school desegregation in the U.S. on Nov. 14, 1960. But the little girl in the painting is not Ruby Bridges. She is a likeness of Rockwell model Anita Gunn Tinsley, now a 56-year-old widow residing in Lynchburg’s Fort Hill neighborhood.

Most people do not know of her link to the painting that received worldwide acclaim after it appeared as the centerfold of Look magazine on Jan. 14, 1964.

Tinsley herself rarely talks about it.

Years ago, when her youngest daughter told her elementary school classmates in Amherst County that her mother was a Rockwell model, “they laughed at her,” she recalled.

She had to send her daughter back to school with proof to stop the scoffing.

“That was typical,” she said. “I really don’t bother telling people about it anymore.”

Recent research on Rockwell’s “other people” confirms that it is not unusual for black Rockwell models to encounter disbelief about their role. While the artist was well known for recruiting as models townspeople from the New England communities where he lived, it is not well known that some of those people were black.

Stephanie Plunkett, chief curator of the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Mass., confirmed that Tinsley was indeed one of the models for the painting.

Tinsley, who grew up in Massachusetts, never has seen the actual painting of “The Problem We All Live With.”

She said she did not know of its significance until she attended a Rockwell models reunion in 2007 at the Norman Rockwell Museum. There, 44 years after her modeling session, she learned of the immense importance of the picture, and of the little girl in it.

Before returning home to Virginia, Tinsley went to the museum bookstore and bought a reproduction of the painting, which now hangs in her bedroom.

“I’m not one to show myself,” she said. “But to know I’m seen by millions of people, seeing myself, it’s a strange feeling.”

Tinsley, a native of Great Barrington, Mass., recently shared the details of her encounter with Rockwell, her first in-depth interview on the subject.

She remembers how Norman Rockwell literally walked into her life. “In the fall of 1963, I was coming home from school, crying because I wanted to take violin lessons. I loved watching our music teacher play and I wanted to learn. But my parents said we couldn’t afford the $25 for the lessons.”

As Anita sniffled along the street, a tall white man approached her, asking what was wrong. When the 8-year-old explained that she wanted to take violin lessons but there was no money for them, the man suggested that, if her mother approved, he would pay for her lessons if Anita would model for him.

“I didn’t understand anything about modeling. All I heard was $25! I had no idea who he was. And I didn’t tell my mother.”

Several days later, Elaine Gunn, Anita’s mother, remained home from her teaching job to care for one of Anita’s brothers, who was sick. When Mrs. Gunn answered a knock at her front door, there stood Norman Rockwell.

Gunn immediately recognized the famous illustrator, although she had never met him. He introduced himself, explaining that he had come from Stockbridge, eight miles away, to talk with her daughter, Anita.

Mrs. Gunn, stunned at the presence of Rockwell on her doorstep, stammered that Anita was not yet home from school.

“May I wait for her?” Rockwell asked.

When Anita tromped through the backdoor, she found her mother sitting at the dining room table, chatting with the man who had spoken to her on the street.

As Anita entered the room, Norman Rockwell rose and approached her. Stooping down and clasping her hands he asked, “How would you like to earn money for those violin lessons?” Then, according to Mrs. Gunn, Rockwell engaged the 8-year-old in a discussion about his latest project on the subject of integration.

Only when Anita, in her blue, Peter Pan-collared school dress, understood what “modeling” meant and what she was agreeing to did the artist turn back to Mrs. Gunn: “For the modeling session, can you have two dresses made just like the one she has on, only in white?”

Rockwell requested two dresses because he used two models for the painting: Anita and her cousin, Linda Gunn. Both girls had been recommended to him by David Gunn Sr., a pipe-smoking buddy of Rockwell’s, and grandfather to the two cousins. It was because of Gunn senior’s referral that Rockwell had recognized and approached Anita on the street.

For the photo shoot, Rockwell invited Anita’s entire family to his Stockbridge studio. When the group arrived, Rockwell pulled out bottles of Coca-Cola from the case he kept under the stairs. The artist popped opened sodas and handed one to each person. “It was wonderful,” Tinsley said with a laugh. “We didn’t have to share. We each had our own bottle.”

Anita was required to stand absolutely still, with her feet positioned on wooden blocks, for long minutes at a time. When Rockwell guided her poses, he bent down and spoke to the little girl directly. “He was very kind,” Tinsley recalled. At the end of the 45-minute session, she received a check for $25, signed by Norman Rockwell.

Anita did take violin lessons, but only for one year. “The strings hurt my fingers. And I didn’t want to get calluses on them.”

After graduating high school in Massachusetts, Tinsley attended a local community college for two years. Then, after working two years in a state housing and redevelopment agency, she went to live with an aunt in Delaware, where she attended Delaware State College.

Love, marriage and the birth of her oldest daughter, Tiana, ended that college try. But in 1992, while working for Sun Oil, Anita earned a B.A. in business administration from Widener College in Chester, Pa. That same year, she became divorced from her first husband, took an early retirement from Sun Oil and moved to Amherst to join Kevin Tinsley, the man would become her second husband and father to her youngest daughter, Kenita. Kevin Tinsley died in July 2007.

“The Problem We All Live With” was back in the national spotlight this past summer, when the painting was hung outside the entrance to the Oval Office, where the President can see it from his desk.

At President Barack Obama’s request, the Norman Rockwell Museum loaned the painting to the White House to mark the 50th anniversary year of those historic events in New Orleans in 1960.

When informed that her likeness now hung in the White House, Anita Gunn Tinsley’s first reaction was, “Wow!” Then, after a moment of silence, she said, “Maybe I’ll try to take a trip to Washington to see it.”

Cheap returns for clueless Olley art thief

Art tends to skyrocket in value after the artist passes away - or so the cliche goes. It was perhaps with this in mind that a thief walked into the Bowral and District Hospital five days after Margaret Olley's death and took one of her pictures from a wall.

The crime was meticulously planned. The thief walked into the waiting room at the children's ward with a cheap replacement print swathed in white fabric. With the new print disguising the theft, it took hospital staff five days to miss Olley's work.

It might have been the perfect get-rich-quick scheme - but for one crucial detail. While Olley's paintings and signed prints sell for thousands of dollars, the hospital's unsigned reproduction of the oil painting reproduction Parrot Tulip is worth next to nothing. Identical prints are on sale at the Mittagong Visitor Information Centre for $50.

Olley painted it to raise money for the McGrath Foundation during the annual Southern Highlands Tulip Time Festival. It sold at auction for $50,000 to the broadcaster Alan Jones, who donated it back to the charity.

Organisations that helped with the fund-raising received unsigned reproductions of Olley's work. One of the 100 prints went to Berrima District Credit Union's charity foundation for children. The credit union spent $400 on framing and donated it to the hospital. The vice president of the credit union foundation, Ross Stone, said the theft was disappointing, though - given the work's value - hardly alarming. ''I don't know what they think they'll do with it,'' Mr Stone said.

The police have identified a suspect. Moss Vale policeman Senior Constable Martyn Rigby said it was ''reasonable'' to speculate the thief hoped to cash in on Olley's death.

''It's a brazen act,'' he said.

A company with solar flair

Albert Einstein said you cannot solve a problem with the same level of thinking that created it. Martin Fornage, the co-founder and chief technology officer of Enphase Energy, thought far outside the proverbial box and translated geek smarts into a solar revolution.


The engaging entrepreneur, who moved from Paris to Petaluma in 1992, explains how solar power works: "A solar panel puts out DC (direct current) energy like a car battery. It's a continuous stream of current when the sun is shining: always 'on.' But the electrical grid runs on AC (alternating current). It only works when you throw a switch, or plug something in (for example, a toaster).

Inverters convert DC power to AC, in order to push energy from solar panels onto the grid. While inverters have existed for more than a century — and solar-specific inverters for half that long — they've been neither efficient nor cost-effective.

Enter the hardware engineer. Fornage began working in the technology arena when "computer" meant a huge mainframe in a cold room, and VDTs (video display terminals) on each user's desk. Anyone under 35 may only know of such antiquated technology from visiting a data museum.

When the PC revolution happened, the guts of the computer migrated to the desktop, so that what the end user sat in front of contained the complete system. This became Fornage's template for creating a breakthrough solar inverter. He and partner Raghu Belur launched Enphase Energy in 2006.