The ability to see is a gift. Yet, sight is something we all take for granted. The ability to see things with true appreciation makes for a rich life. Yet most people not only take sight for granted, but the beauty they behold becomes commonplace as well. And nonetheless, there is a third dimension that is held dear by the artist. That is the visionary eye; to be able to see the future. It’s the ability to create a model in the mind, and see it in a finished form within the mind’s eye. My grandfather, Henry Lorentzen, had that ability. It’s a grand gift.
My grandparents were married in 1931, the beginning of a period of time known as the Dirty 30’s. Strangely they never talked about it. Other folks their age would make remarks on their buying, spending and saving habits, then end the phrase with “because we came through the 30’s”. The years spent in the midst of the “Dirty 30’s” were obviously so horrific, that the phrase would suffice as clear explanation to their behavior. Now, I am similarly struck by its omission. Why hadn’t the tough times of the 30’s made an indelible impact on those grandparents of mine? Were they just that tough? No, it was the grand gift of a 3 dimensional sight, the ability to see past the present truth into the future, and then proceed with confidence.
The evidence is in the art work. Although the work is often impressionistic, the subject matter is sharp and clear, if you consider that the main emphasis is beauty. My grandfather rarely painted the “Old West” within the context of struggle, fight or conflicts. His very first small painting was of an Indian, spear in hand, as he closed in on a buffalo. This he presented to his bride to be, Grace Cherrit Barlow. Then he went on to better subjects, leaving violence and sadness behind. Home and hearth, the rolling river and pastoral beauty became his subjects. His eye craved beauty and he found that in the rugged terrain of North Dakota.
Within the home his eye rested on a beautiful, periwinkle-blue teapot* which he made the focal point of this still life painting. I like to imagine my grandfather comforted by the beauty of this teapot. Its elegant curves and bright cheery blue obviously made his day. Since I love dishes, I am personally delighted that he captured the teapot in this rustic setting, possibly the only source of beauty in an old log cabin. The painting is a clue as to what kind of man my grandfather was. And it is especially poignant to me when you take into account that at the end of his career as artist and visionary he was a glaucoma patient. My grandmother administered the drops that kept him from going completely blind. When you study the final paintings he managed to finish, you will find that the canvas had shrunk. No longer did he produce artwork on a grand scale, yet the details and colors became even more remarkable. Apparently the ability to see with one’s eyes is not a perquisite for artistic success. Grandfather had a deep sense for beauty and a guide from within.
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Phil 4:8
My grandparents were married in 1931, the beginning of a period of time known as the Dirty 30’s. Strangely they never talked about it. Other folks their age would make remarks on their buying, spending and saving habits, then end the phrase with “because we came through the 30’s”. The years spent in the midst of the “Dirty 30’s” were obviously so horrific, that the phrase would suffice as clear explanation to their behavior. Now, I am similarly struck by its omission. Why hadn’t the tough times of the 30’s made an indelible impact on those grandparents of mine? Were they just that tough? No, it was the grand gift of a 3 dimensional sight, the ability to see past the present truth into the future, and then proceed with confidence.
The evidence is in the art work. Although the work is often impressionistic, the subject matter is sharp and clear, if you consider that the main emphasis is beauty. My grandfather rarely painted the “Old West” within the context of struggle, fight or conflicts. His very first small painting was of an Indian, spear in hand, as he closed in on a buffalo. This he presented to his bride to be, Grace Cherrit Barlow. Then he went on to better subjects, leaving violence and sadness behind. Home and hearth, the rolling river and pastoral beauty became his subjects. His eye craved beauty and he found that in the rugged terrain of North Dakota.
Within the home his eye rested on a beautiful, periwinkle-blue teapot* which he made the focal point of this still life painting. I like to imagine my grandfather comforted by the beauty of this teapot. Its elegant curves and bright cheery blue obviously made his day. Since I love dishes, I am personally delighted that he captured the teapot in this rustic setting, possibly the only source of beauty in an old log cabin. The painting is a clue as to what kind of man my grandfather was. And it is especially poignant to me when you take into account that at the end of his career as artist and visionary he was a glaucoma patient. My grandmother administered the drops that kept him from going completely blind. When you study the final paintings he managed to finish, you will find that the canvas had shrunk. No longer did he produce artwork on a grand scale, yet the details and colors became even more remarkable. Apparently the ability to see with one’s eyes is not a perquisite for artistic success. Grandfather had a deep sense for beauty and a guide from within.
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Phil 4:8
Photo ABOVE...Still Life: Apples, Bottle & Teapot is at home in Underwood Indiana, with Yvonne Lorentzen McGuire and hangs in the Ministry Center of New Life International.
*Footnote: I want to include the history of this little Lipton Tea pot that came into their home, soon after its creation, as a wedding gift from Grace’s mother Emma Barlow in the year 1931.
Thomas Lipton was a Scottish grocer in the late 1800’s that popularized tea. A great move on his part, he used this slogan: "Direct from the tea gardens to the teapot." Lipton teas were an immediate success in the United States. Thomas Lipton was knighted by Queen Victoria, who made him Sir Thomas Lipton in 1898 at the age of forty-eight, (as noted by Wikipedia.) Still in the spotlight today, the little blue teapot can be found on various websites like eBay. It appears that a complete set, including creamer and sugar bowl with lid goes for about 50 dollars. Its place, secured in history, with the words LIPTONS TEA firmly embedded on the bottom of each set.
Thomas Lipton was a Scottish grocer in the late 1800’s that popularized tea. A great move on his part, he used this slogan: "Direct from the tea gardens to the teapot." Lipton teas were an immediate success in the United States. Thomas Lipton was knighted by Queen Victoria, who made him Sir Thomas Lipton in 1898 at the age of forty-eight, (as noted by Wikipedia.) Still in the spotlight today, the little blue teapot can be found on various websites like eBay. It appears that a complete set, including creamer and sugar bowl with lid goes for about 50 dollars. Its place, secured in history, with the words LIPTONS TEA firmly embedded on the bottom of each set.
1988 was the year that Yvonne brought the little blue teapot to her home in Indiana. While on a visit to her girlhood home in North Dakota, her mother had given it to her, hastily crumpled up an old sketch of her father’s and packed the tea pot for the journey. It rests beside the painting and stores a little note of explanation as to how it came to be. Grace and Henry didn't have the additional pieces, those came into the family through a random act of kindness. While Yvonne was traveling in Colorado with her daughter Martha, they took tea with a kind lady who happened to have the creamer/sugar set. Struck by the items, Yvonne mentioned, “My mother had a teapot like this, the subject of a painting, we didn't know that it was part of a set.” The woman wrapped the set in paper and sent it out the door with her!
All photos taken by Vanessa Lorentzen on location. Yvonne holds the periwinkle teapot.
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