Two fantastic Christo portraits you will NOT see at the Smithsonian Running Fence exhibition–these are right here in Petaluma and by Morrie Camhi
While ARThound is delighted to be attending the festivities surrounding the “Christo and Jeanne-Claude: Remembering the Running Fence” exhibition opening this Friday in Washington D.C. at the Smithsonian American Art Museum, there is something to be said for local talent. The late Petaluma photographer Morrie Camhi took two of the best portraits of young Christo ever and they are not at the Smithsonian; they are currently on display in Petaluma at the Petaluma Art Center through April 25. The show in Washington includes the camera-work of Gianfanco Gorgoni, Italian, who handled portraits and Wolfgang Volz, German, who did the landscape shots of the fence. Were Camhi’s two portraits in the show, they would likely be referred to as the little jewels that best captured Christo the man in this gargantuan project.
“Portrait as Metaphor” highlights the work of Morrie Camhi and includes images from his series “Faces and Facets: The Jews of
Greece,” “Espejo: Reflections of the Mexican American,” and “The Prison Experience.”
What is immediately evident in these images is Camhi’s use of light and the definitive expressions he captured in all his subjects. The Christo portraits are remarkable though–evoking the determination, defiance and grit that came to define Christo as well as his own sense of wonderment with the fence. We can almost feel the cool ocean wind blowing as Christo stands in a field with suitcase in hand before the lyrical creation that took him years to realize. The suitcase says it all–traveler, pied piper, magician, bureaucrat–work accomplished, Christo came and went leaving us to sort out hwat it all meant. Camhi has pulled so much from the negative, producing a dark broody silouette like image masterfully printed in silver gelatin.
Thank you, Christo and Jeanne Claude for fighting for this project with your heart and soul and thank you Morrie for these images which ignite our memories of this artistic duo who showed us all how to dream big.
Welcome to Adoption—in “Wo Ai Ni Mommy,” a Jewish family in Long Island gets a new member from China and everyone has to adapt

8 year old Sui Yong (3rd from left), a Chinese orphan meets with her foster family for the last time before she is adopted by the Sadowsky family of Long Island in Stephanie Wang-Breal's "Wo Ai Ni Mommy." Photo CAAM
How do you adapt to a brand new family member from a different culture? Director Stephanie Wang-Breal’s first feature film film “Wo Ai Ni Mommy” (“I Love You Mommy”) breaks important ground as she travels to Guangzhou, China with adoptive mother Donna Sadowsky of Long, Island, New York, to meet her 8 year-old daughter, orphan Sui Yong (“Faith”) for the first time.
Wang-Breal acts as a fly-on-the wall documentarian, capturing the moment by moment complexities of forging a loving and healthy bond with an older child from another culture. While over 70,000 children have been adopted from China into the U.S. since 1992 and everyone’s experience is different, this story is unique. It is told in real time and captures the child’s perspective, often in her own voice. Most adoption documentaries are told from the perspective of the adult adoptee looking back in time or the adoptive parents’ experience or even the relinquishing birthmother’s point of view. This one is straight from the psyche of an 8-year-old who was abandoned as a 2-year-old and has been living at the orphanage and in foster care. She has never seen a Caucasian before but has been told by a kindly Chinese social worker named Leila that she is going to have a good life in a place called America.
As the film unfolds, nothing is held back. We first meet the Sadowsky family in Long Island. Jeff and Donna have two teenage sons and a 3-year-old Chinese daughter, Dara, who was adopted at age 14 months. The decision to adopt another child was agreed upon by all family members and everyone’s view seems to have been respected. The action then moves to China with Donna in her hotel room, a few hours before she is going to meet her new daughter, Sui Yong. Her elderly father has made the journey with her. Her husband Jeff made the difficult decision to stay at home and care for the rest of their children so that Donna could devote her full attention to Faith. Donna is anxiously preparing stacks of hundred dollar bills and organizing gifts for the orphanage. Sui Yong’s care for 6 years has been subsidized by the Chinese government and Donna is paying $3,000, a pittance compared to costs in the US.
At the Guangzhou Civil Affairs Office, the first meeting between mother and daughter unfolds in the chaos of what appears to be a dozen similar introductions taking place all at once. The tension is palpable. A social worker carefully handles the introduction and Sui Yong is asked what she thinks of the name “Faith.” She is then told that she will now be called Faith and she should call Donna “Mommy.” She is told many times that Donna loves her and that she will come to love her Mommy too. As Donna gives her daughter her first hug and pulls her into her arms, Faith is stoic, shell-shocked. When given the chance to ask Donna questions, she asks only one—does the Sadowsky family eat fish. To which Donna answers yes, “We like fish.” A smile emerges.
What follows is a linear narrative—tracking moments of happiness, ambivalence, sheer fright and acting out, an unexpected meeting with Faith’s Chinese foster family, traveling back to Long Island where Faith meets the rest of her new family, and her subsequent struggles to integrate into family life in America. Language, food, habits—everything Faith has known as young Chinese girl vanish as she struggles to adapt to boisterous Jewish family life. Donna is a no-nonsense mom and establishes boundaries and expectations right away–Faith must learn English to communicate and she needs to learn to share what’s going on inside so that her family can understand her needs. Dad Jeff is a very loving father who is keenly aware of the impact of his smallest gestures of affection or discipline and is very careful to treat all his children equally and with sensitivity.
Over the course of 17 months, we gradually witness Faith’s transformation into a lively, outspoken American child. Rapid immersion has had a remarkable impact– there is a noticeable set of cultural gains and losses and actual shifts in her personality and identity. She moves differently, has different expressions and attitudes and now identifies herself as American. Sadly, she has nearly forgotten her native Cantonese language but wants desperately to communicate by Skype with her beloved foster sister in China. Of particular interest is the rare footage of adoptive mother Donna meeting Faith’s Chinese foster mother and family in China. (In China, the law prohibits foster parents from adopting.) We are poignantly aware throughout the film that this foster family nurtured Faith for several years in China. This loving bond, her most significant source of attachment and love after her birthmother abandoned her, has been a healing anchor for Faith. The Sadowskys recognize that and welcome the foster family into their lives as well.
In all, we marvel at the courage of the Sadowsky family to allow a camera to roll uncensored through this intimate and often raw experience. Some very difficult moments are captured and this is actually what gives this film its real force. When Faith does not get her way, she pitches a fit and says she wants to leave and return to China. When she struggles with carrying her books due to her impairment, she doesn’t ask for help and is scolded when they drop to the ground. At one point she blurts out to Donna “You are a white person and I am Chinese.” Adoptive mom Donna Sadowsky has a strong parenting style. She doesn’t always achieve immediate success but she is consistent, respectful and always listens to her children. We never doubt her love for Faith. As the film progresses, we witness the entire family trying to strengthen their bond with Faith and to protect her. In all, what emerges is a very realistic account of the hard work, self awareness and love it takes to pull adoption off on a daily basis. This is a deeply moving and intelligent film that probes the very heart of what family means while exploring issues of identity, cultural assimilation and bonding.
“Wo Ai Ni Mommy” is part of the year’s 28th San Francisco International Asian American Film Festival, March 11-21, 2010, sponsored by the Center for Asian American Media (CAAM)San Francisco. It has also been selected for the prestigious PBS award-winning series Point of View.
Screens— SUN 3.14 (3:30 PM, Kabuki, San Francisco), WED 3.17 (7:00 PM, Kabuki San Francisco).
Meet Richard Mayhew–Master of Electric, Eclectic, Majestic Abstraction at MoAD through March 7, 2010
Now in its final week, “The Art of Richard Mayhew,” at San Francisco’s MoAD (Museum of the African Diaspora) is an important retrospective of the Santa Cruz Aptos-based painter, now 86, who wields color with a language and precision all his own but, sadly, is not widely known. Standing before Richard Mayhew’s abstract paintings is a deeply moving experience—connecting the soul, poetry, nature, prayer, and memory. We are made aware of something majestic, mystical. Rothko evokes this depth of reaction as well, but it’s often an experience filled with heaviness, whereas Mayhew’s abstraction pulses with invigorating life force. Mayhew has mastered the line between abstraction and representation, creating dreamlike environments that appeal to the senses and evoke nature’s constant rejuvination. It’s also nice, in this day and age, to see someone who is not afraid of bold color and who knows how to use it to heighten emotional reaction, to touch the holy.
Many of Mayhew’s early works are clearly landscapes with trees, often clustered together and executed in somber murky hues. Later, over the course of forty years, the line blurs and the imagery becomes increasingly symbolic, suggesting trees or patterns in nature that seem bioluminescent, a term that means producing and emitting light, originating from the Greek bios for “living” and the Latin lumen for “light.” Mayhew has painted in Pennsylvania, North Carolina, New England, and California but he rarely paints scenes as they exist. He takes different things from his imagination and collages them together into a kind of spiritual poem that takes form as an imagined landscape.
Of African-American and Cherokee and Shinnecock descent, Mayhew was born in 1924 in Amityville on Long Island, where a deep appreciation of nature was instilled in him. He came of age in New York during the 1950s explosion of Abstract Expressionist art and at 23, he became a medical illustrator and portrait painter in New York. Several of those early works are on display at MoAD.
Mayhew’s involvement in the Spiral Group in New York for several years in the 1960’s seems to mark an important turning point in his career and his painting style. The group of African American artists was diverse in its artistic style and philosophies but was formed in July 1963 to discuss the role of Negro artists in the civil rights struggle. It had only one exhibition in 1965 and all the works were black and white. Shortly after the show, Mayhew painted over his black and white landscape and expressed his commitment to color.
While he was involved with Spiral, his presence in the art world continued to blossom and mature and he began teaching and then won several prestigious awards and began performing as a jazz singer in New York. He drove across country for the first time in 1964 and influenced by the open space and vivid colors of the West, his palette expanded and he embraced vivid irresistible psychedelic color—greens, yellows, oranges and browns.
The deep-rooted symbolism of trees is apparent throughout his life’s work. Forests too, recognized in virtually every culture on earth as the abode of nature–mysterious and constantly changing–a refuge from danger, as well as a home of exotic animals. He delights in showing the continual rejuvenation of nature and the renewal of life. His glowing trees evoke strong metaphors such as the Tree of Life or family trees whose sprawling branches depict our ancestral heritage. In spiritual terms, the tree is the soul of the forest. Kill the tree, kill the forest, kill the culture. The messages embedded in his works are endless.
Many works stand out, but “(Untitled) Red Bush” from the 1990’s is striking–a group of fiery cherry tomato red trees basks in the bright sun against a backdrop of lavender foliage and a jade green sky. The tallest tree is larger than life and not contained within upper border of the canvas. The gorgeous interplay between the red leaves of the trees and the vivid green of the grasses below suggests a careful intake of optical techniques gleaned from the old masters but modernized. The fiery tree also holds a deep association with God. In the Bible, Exodus, Chapter 3: 1-15, Moses is tending his sheep near Horeb and is mesmerized by a huge burning bush in the distance that is engulfed in flames but does not burn up. As he approaches, God reveals himself dramatically to Moses from the midst of this burning bush, and commands Moses to return to Egypt and to deliver the Israelites from oppression. Having seen and heard the voice of God, Moses obeyed.
“Ritual” (2007) evokes a moody state—a still blue lake in a molten red field draws the eye upward to a thicket of magenta trees set against a neon orange sky.
In “Lumbee” (2009), there is the sense that the viewer is looking down on tiny earth from above and then soaring right into the line of the horizon. The patterns are somewhat recognizeable but color moves it away from familiarity to something fresh. A yellow-lime green curving mass (water?) that spills across the canvas and directs the eye downward and to the right seems like a river but is colored like no river we’ve seen in nature before. The painting’s title refers to the Lumbee nation of Native Americans based in North Carolina whose migration across the country and into the Massapequa region of New York, where Mayhew was born, pays tribute to Mayhew’s ancestry.
An important and interesting video, offered in a side gallery, shows Mayhew at work in his studio creating landscapes and talking about his life, influences and his artistic process with oil on canvas and watercolor on paper. He never sketches his ideas in advance but pours paint directly onto paper, flooding the surface with rich vibrant colors which he then pushes around to suit his taste. He frequently pours salt on wet areas and uses spritzes of water to create a blended effect. Important critics and artists provide important context for Mayhew’s oeuvre.
The exhibition covers his work from the 1950’s to the present and is one of three recent fantastic Bay Area shows featuring Mayhew in various phases of his career. “The Art of Richard Mayhew: Journey’s End” at The de Saisset Museum at Santa Clara University, September 26-December 4, 2009 focused on Mayhew’s mid-career from 1975 while “The Art of Richard Mayhew: After the Rain” at The Museum of Art and History in Santa Cruz, September 12-November 12, 2009, showcased work produced since his relocation to Santa Cruz county in 2000.