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One of the most interesting events at the lake during this time of year is watching various waterfowl pass through on their journey south. Last evening I heard a very distinct and different bird calling from the lake, investigating in my kayak I found two beautiful Lesser Yellowlegs feeding along the shore in our cove. Perky, plucky, striding deftly with long yellow legs, heads bobbing up and down, they were beautiful to watch. A group of 16 mallards fed nearby. By morning all were gone. Such is the magic of this season.

Gail Niebrugge, wildlife artist

Paddling the kayak around the shore of our cove I looked up to see the clouds had lifted revealing the stunning scene of Pioneer Peak covered with a heavy layer of fresh snow. Maybe that is why I’m feeling the scent of winter in the air.

Gail Niebrugge, landscape painter

Sunshine through the clouds warmed the wet chilled earth and prompted me to harvest potatoes and carrots this weekend. The bounty was great from our raised beds in the vegetable garden, I have more carrots than space to store over winter. Any suggestions on how to store them in our cool garage? I’ve never done this before. We have three kinds of potatoes; Robinta Reds grew the best and were stacked like cord wood inside dirt mounds some measuring more than 12″ long, then Yukon Gold and finally Gold Rush. Last year our potatoes lasted until May and we have more this year. We should be in business all winter with this generous yield. Working outdoors I became aware of an odd feeling from the air like winter is almost here, I wonder will it come early? Strange. My neighbor’s horse has a coat as thick as normal for November, is this a sign? Animals know. We shall see. I think it is best to be prepared.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska landscape artist

We are taking orders for “Wing Dancing”, the new canvas giclee prints will be ready in a month. The options are as follows; Large size 39″x49″ with a 1.5″ mirror wrap on the sides $1,950.00. Medium size 28″x35″ with a 1″ mirror wrap on the sides $780.00. Small size 16″x20″ with a 1″ mirror wrap on the sides $375.00. Available now is a mini giclee art print on acid free paper 6″x8″ priced for gift giving at $30.00. Reserve yours now, call (907)746-3256 or on our web site at www.niebruggestudio.com.

New, ready for our next show “Make it Alaskan” at the Sullivan Arena, Anchorage, October 2-4, a mini giclee print “Northern Lights” image 6″x8″ perfect for gift giving at $30.00. Call Niebrugge Studio (907)746-3256, or check out the website www.niebruggestudio.com

Crisp, sharp frosty mornings roll into sun bathed yellow-gold birch leaves papering the ground at the Crevasse Moraine hiking trails, a perfect time of year to trek. Bob and I walked up and down the undulating trails sometimes blinded by sunlight streaming through dark woods invigorated by clean air and autumn beauty. Over stimulation to an artists’ senses, something stunning everywhere, quiet forest, sounds of leaves falling onto soft wet ground, we were startled as a grouse flushed from the underbrush to the safety of a tall spruce.

The fireweed is dead brown killed by frost, seeds strewn by last weeks wind planted into the soil by the cover of fallen leaves. Fall in Alaska is fleeting, here today gone tomorrow, and should not be missed from the hum drum duty of daily responsibility. Pause, look, breathe, walk in the woods and soak in the splendor.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Termination dust coats nearby peaks the temperature dropped this morning light frost coating plants and grass and foggy steam rises from the cooling lake water. Ducks gather in the cove, hundreds stop briefly and resume flight at night gone in the morning, others follow more and more each day until suddenly none. Summer is done. Daylight growing shorter darkness stealing more light every morning and evening, winter approaches creeping like a stalking tomcat. Today is clear and sunny lighting golden leaves, melting frost creating beautiful breathtaking scenes to behold. Fall in Alaska has no equal. An artists paradise.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska painter

Since the above photo was taken in our back yard the leaves have already started to fall and fresh snow adorns the surrounding mountain peaks. Winter is on the way. Frost is predicted for tonight. I’m playing catch-up with the yard, so much to be done yet and so little time. The hoses have all been drained and stored, but the garden is still laden with zucchini and yellow squash that will perish with the first freeze. The potatoes are fine, a good frost will make them better and I plan to dig them up over the weekend. My carrots are giants, I’ve never seen any so large, they are tender and sweet. These will be stored over the winter with the potatoes and provide tasty, nutritious vegetables to use until our garden produces again next summer. I love this time of year its beauty is staggering, but the chores have an underlying urgency attached. Procrastination will find everything buried under snow and frozen, glued hard to the ground.

Gail Niebrugge, landscape painter

The Alaska State Council on the Arts sponsored a Native Art Summit at the beautiful Morris Thompson Cultural Center in Fairbanks over the weekend. I was invited to speak on “The Business of Art and the Artist” last Saturday, September 19. The center is a beautiful facility with excellent displays partially completed, collections are being added daily. I was fortunate to be included in a tour conducted by Athabascan artist Dixie Alexander, who is extremely knowledgeable about the artifacts and history of the native people of the region.

What impressed me most is the huge diorama painted by artist Jan Vriesen totaling 3,400 square feet depicting interior Alaska in winter, summer and fall. This photo shows a section of the fall diorama as it transitions into a display of rocks, flora and fauna complete with taxidermy replicas of brown bear, moose, other animals and birds. It is stunning! Dixie explained that it took 10 months to paint.

My seminar was well attended, and all in all the conference was a successful event.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Packing up after the fair vendor snafus, traffic snarls, and chaos reigned behind our booth. Waiting a full day before we tried to move our truck and camper was of little value, trucks and trailers blocked the exit like giant immovable boulders. Requests for help were ignored. It took four men and two hours to weave our rig through the maze without mishap. A totally unnecessary and avoidable scenario.

At one point a jack was employed to move a vendor trailer sideways one foot giving our truck inches to spare. This situation needs careful evaluation by the management before next year. I’m glad this event is over, it is exhausting and draining, but overall rewarding. Many, many thanks to our friends who offered help and solutions to our set-up and tear-down operations. We could not have done it without them.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska landscape painter

The last four days at the Alaska State Fair were bathed in sunshine, instead of sitting inside next to the heater I relocated to the front doors soaking the warmth of the September sun. Clear skies drew crowds and our booth was no exception.

Blinking to adjust eyesight from the bright glare outdoors, collectors arrived en masse with nice comments, questions, making purchases. Every now and then I’d duck out the doors to be swept by the parade down the aisle, feeling like a salmon swimming upstream I’d return with a giant cookie, vege wrap, or deep fried halibut to be consumed on the run. It was quintessential fair fare. All in all, it was a wonderful event and well attended. Well worth the time and trouble.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Weekdays at the Palmer fair are the best time to attend, the grounds are void of crowds, parking is easy, there is little traffic, and virtually no waiting in lines. The beauty of mid-week participation is that everything offered is the same as during jam-packed weekends. Collectors browse the art in our booth without the distraction of others and enjoy viewing large works from a distance and close-up, a must for pointillism. We can replace framed art on the walls and re-hang with a minimum of disruption, everything is seamless, eating is enjoyable and we indulge too much. Yes, the lovely relaxing pace of mid-week at the fair is a treasure, a secret to be shared. That is; as long as it isn’t raining.

Gail Niebrugge, pointillism artist

I knew the rain would come, it always does, the pace at the fair slows down for awhile. We needed a rest from the frenzy, and the ground absorbed water like a sponge. Comfortable, toasty from the heater at the back of the booth rain gave the gift of time, an opportunity to visit with customers and friends to share, discuss, embellish stories in between bites of giant cookies and caramel coated popcorn.

My fireweed paintings prompted discussions about weather, when the bloom tops the plant is it really six weeks until winter, comparing progress of the white seed fluff stage from the coast to the interior. Birch leaves are yellow around the Matanuska Glacier but haven’t changed yet in Glennallen, an anomaly, fall usually arrives in the Alaska interior first. Interesting facts to ponder, muse over and speculate. A rainy day at the fair in the art booth, connecting, talking with people. It was good.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska landscape painter

Hours of watching people through the open double doors of our art booth at the Alaska State Fair provides a tiny window, a quick snapshot of crowd behavior, a fashion show of unusual wardrobes, a range of body shapes and sizes, and a parade of painted hair and faces. Our handicapped accessible ramp at the front doors was often occupied by youngsters seeking a sunny spot to sit, eat, and visit, oblivious to the fact that they were blocking the entrance. Apologetic and polite they always complied with our request to find another spot to camp.

I enjoyed seeing the unusual shaped shadows cast on our booth floor from spiky hairstyles, and the brightly colored clothes worn by these youths. This could make a great painting I thought as I gently urged them to move on. Silly, the stuff that catches my eye. Again, it always about the light, the light and shadows are what I seek to make a good painting. It really doesn’t matter what the subject matter, it is all about the light. An artists observation.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist at the State Fair

Mobs arrived in the sunshine on Sunday at the fair, moving up and down the trails en masse, slowly jockeying for an opening, stopped dead by a stroller, cut off by a group that stopped to visit, the throng drifted back and forth and entered our booth. It was amazing! Both of us worked hard to inform, answer inquiries, package purchases and re-hang the walls. A wonderful day.

Many want prints made of the big original painting “Wing Dancing”, with images of Sandhill Cranes in the mating dance. We will make a print, no doubt a giclee on canvas with a mirror wrap on the sides, no frame required. The largest size will be 40″x50″ priced at $1,950.00, medium size 28″x35″ priced at $780.00, and the small canvas giclee will be 16″x20″ priced at $375.00. Call Niebrugge Studio (907)746-3256 or send email to reserve your print. People want this picture and my work is rewarded by the enthusiastic response. I am satisfied.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Good weather brought crowds the first weekend of the Palmer Fair and congested our booth. “Wing Dancing,” the huge canvas of Sandhill Cranes drew people who absorbed colorful pointillism and admired the variety of subject matter. The original painting “Blue Poppy” also starred. Twelve hour days turn into sixteen with bookwork and inventory, meeting, greeting, explaining, restocking, gulping food on the run, limited downtime wore down both of our aging bodies. Bob, nursing broken ribs, did a herculean job popping Ibuprophyn and taking rest breaks in the camper. I found energy and adrenalin from my collectors and friends. Each morning we groggily drink coffee waiting for the caffeine jolt to get going.

I paint all year alone in my studio and look forward to display my work and interact with the public. It is not upscale or snobbish, the fair is down and dirty, tacky and wonderful, a mix of plastic made in china souvenirs and hand-made excellence. Beautifully grown vegetables, animals lovingly raised by children, food from prized recipes, quilts, art, photos, pottery, all mixed with glitzy carny rides and cheesecake in a cone. The grounds exploding with colorful blooming annuals, benches placed randomly for rest, climbing lumberjacks thrilling crowds, community choirs song drifting mixing with the beating bass speakers magnifying sounds of concert headliners performing outdoors, the fair offers something for everyone.

I guess my career as an artist will never see gallery shows in the New York art district, I’m content to meet Alaskans and visitors in the places that they go. Few attend openings in galleries anymore unlike the great crowds during the 80’s, times have changed. My favorite galleries are closing and none are opening to replace them. I’m not sure what the future holds for artists, but for now I have an art booth at the Alaska State Fair and am happy and humbled by the experience.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska Artist

I love my booth at the Alaska State Fair its tall walls laden with huge paintings, spotlights illuminating artwork jewels, me camped in the back corner surrounded by music feet toasted by a heater. I watch the world walk by outside the wide double doors, face paint, colored spiked hair, feathers, snow cones, cotton candy, tank tops in the sun, hats and jackets during wind and rain. The one common denominator; all are having fun!

“What is pointillism?” “How long did it take to complete that big painting?” referring to the huge canvas of Sandhill Cranes dominating the back wall. I reply, “Forty years and two months,” and watch expressions of confusion on faces until understanding clicks. Forty years of experience, two months of labor. Questions, comments, explanations, curious seeking knowledge to understand art. “I’ve been admiring your work since the late 1970’s when it hung at the Glennallen Tastee Freez,” someone said with a smile “I always stop at your booth, the art lifts my spirits and brings me joy,” said another. It is good to listen to what people say. After long hours alone creating, working, perfecting, it brings satisfaction and fills my soul.

This is kids day and bus loads roam chattering, giggling, waving glow swords dizzy from upside down rides and too much sugar. I’m enjoying all of it, and think it is time to get an order of my favorite garlic potato chips from the booth across the isle. Forget the diet, this is the Palmer Fair and it is time to play!

Gail Niebrugge, Palmer artist

Before opening the fair midway is a confusion of trucks, vans, trailers, sweaty men with power tools, and ladders, booths rise like mushrooms from piles of metal tubes and canvas, others are towed into place or moved from storage tacky shack city by lumbering loaders. This summer Purple Trail spaces were renumbered cramming them closer to the entrance and we found our booth jammed against the big red halibut hutch next door. Spewing hot air and smelly fumes the cooking vent is inches from our wooden wall and underneath our ten foot tall eaves. A huge Ameri Gas propane tank blocked access down the skinny alley and rested partially under our camper. Discovering the jerry rigged set-up the Fire Marshall mirrored our concern. “Nothing we can do this year,” he said, “But next year this has to change, it is a fire hazard.” Hmmmmmm….. I thought, unless we burn down. Cough, cough, yuck fumes and hot grease odor already penetrating our abode.

Behind the false facade of concessions is different world; make-shift tents, campers, trailers, vehicles, tangled power cords and portable out-houses create temporary living quarters for vendors. Our camper is hopelessly trapped behind our coop, wedged inches from a larger RV, a big tent with a wood floor blocking the exit. Last year we waited two weeks after closing to load the camper onto the truck, now it is squeezed tighter. Everything looks like was dropped like pick-up-stix intermixed, jumbled without a plan. I wondered why? Walking away from the plaza toward the gates spaces seem bigger. Is it my imagination?

With the help of friends we moved everything from the studio to the booth in two hours, ten hours later the walls were hung with framed art. Everything is in place, clean, neat, tidy and ready to go. It looks good inside. Outside the crazy hammering traffic jam continued until moments before opening then smiling people flooded the trails and the 2009 Alaska State Fair began!

Gail Niebrugge, landscape artist

My final morning at Murie cabin, warm temperatures and building clouds signaled a new front approaching. The weather was no longer my concern, closing the ancient cabin leaving it better than I found it occupied my thoughts. Rules in the park, to discourage animal habituation, require all dishwater and liquid waste be disposed in the outhouse. A blue “slop” bucket in the cabin was emptied daily. I swept and tidied the privy on the hill.

The table at the south window is a favorite place to read and watch outside, shelves above hold ancient logs and dusty reference books crammed with useful information. I washed, wiped, bagged trash, and polished the cabin until it shown.

As crude and rustic the cabin appears, clever accessories some hand-made others resembling antiques festoon the walls, ceiling, and cupboards inside this humble abode. Park service maintenance personnel brought fresh water in 5 gallon containers every three days, most every need was met. Every day I discovered something clever or figured out how to use a unfamiliar tool or odd looking appliance. My last task was to close and lock the bear proof shutters that covered the windows. Hand-made of wood and spiked with nails, the rough shutters bolted shut tight across the glass to discourage bears from gaining access.

As I drove east along my favorite hiking route up Sable Pass the two adult grizzlies I had often watched along the distant hillside emerged from the brush in front of my truck and led a parade along the road. Buses, cars and trucks trailed at a safe distance behind the bears and I couldn’t help but think about what would have happened had I been walking instead of driving and no vehicles were near to provide safety. This is Denali, and this is what happens. This is the magic of this amazing national park, a wild place in nature, beauty unsurpassed with experiences untold. I said out loud; “Goodbye Murie cabin, farewell Denali, you will remain in my heart and part of my work forever.” And, I wiped away a tear.

Gail Niebrugge, Denali Artist-in-Residence

The morning of my last full day to explore the park was the coldest yet, everything was bleached, whitewashed with frost. The chill melted in the morning sun as I made my final trip to Eielson. The road was tangled with buses, I carefully picked my way through the jams hearing the familiar drone of microphones explaining sights and admonishing rules. I soon gained open road and scanned the ridges and gullies of familiar terrain, Denali showed through a haze.

Wildflowers framing a clear creek surrounded by lush grasses caught my eye, I began tracing it on foot through a wide meadow my lens composed scenes to include Denali in the distance. Absorbed in my work I was unaware that the growing snarl of faraway buses were watching a wolf stalking in my direction. Mildly curious about the bus attraction I continued exploring. Retracing my steps toward the truck a quick movement at the top of a nearby knoll gave me pause. I caught sight of reddish brown fur as it moved slowly toward me, then the face of a wolf emerged our eyes locked we both stood still. The sound of my shutter broke the trance, the wolf lost interest changed direction and continued hunting. Back at my truck park rangers approached with concern that the wolf had been stalking me, warning the animal was habituated to humans and efforts were underway to discourage this activity.

Using caution wherever I hiked in the region for the rest of the afternoon, the wolf continued to appear seemingly out of nowhere surprising me. I felt relief as I watched him finally travel down a long ridge to the river valley below disappearing out of sight at a great distance, no longer visible in binoculars. My heartbeat slowly resumed a normal rate. The result are some great wolf shots to incorporate into a painting someday. Later, while cooking dinner at a remote pull-out I grew nostalgic that my time in Denali was ending. Tomorrow I close the cabin and prepare for a presentation at the Murie Science and Learning Center at the park entrance. My wolf experience was the perfect end to a incredible ten days.

Gail Niebrugge, Denali Artist-in-Residence