Lynn M. Cote is a multi-disciplinary visual artist who primarily works with acrylics, watercolor, and graphite, veering occasionally into other media as intuition inspires her. Inspired by her love of nature, her artwork seeks to convey the deep feeling of peace and calm that the natural world offers to all who seek it. Through her art, Cote examines the importance of connecting to the natural world, recognizing the power of the earth to heal itself and those living in. From energetic line work to vibrant use of colors, Cote’s florals and landscapes verge on the edge of whimsical and depict the life force of a land full of beauty and awe.
Lynn M. Cote attended the University of Maine at Presque Isle’s Fine Arts Program and graduated in 2011 with a BFA with a concentration in painting. Since then, Cote has had several solo and group shows including her Senior Thesis Show at the Reed Art Gallery, The Common Gallery, Wintergreen Art Center, Mark & Emily Turner Memorial Library, The Aroostook Agency on Aging and Fort Fairfield Public Library.
“Creating art has been a lifeline and a source of healing for me as I have gone through different stages of life. Through my art, I hope to open that path for others, to bridge the gap between art, nature, and humanity, to bring the healing tranquility and beauty of the outdoors into everyday settings.”
Statement
Why Black & White?
I have been concentrating on pencil drawings for a few years now and I am frequently asked, “Why black and white?” Indeed, it is a thought-provoking question. When the world is so full of vivid, beautiful colors, why do I choose the muted black and white and grays? My initial, off the cuff answer has always been, why not?
The choice was intuitive at first. It was something that “just happened” out of convenience. It was born out of necessity to keep my art supplies to a minimum for ease of portability. At the time, my husband was in and out of hospitals and I needed to have something to do when he was resting. I needed to bring art with me on the go. A case of pencils and a pad of paper are easy to grab and go, easily stored in an overnight bag and don’t make a mess. At the direst of times, I could make the best of a pencil or Sharpie Marker from the nurse’s station and a piece of printer paper.
The more I explored the world of drawing versus painting, the more I fell in love with the simple drawing tools. All of art, no matter what kind, is built with lines and shapes. In paintings, lines often get lost as a subject takes shape. Color, in my mind, becomes the main conveyer of mood, emotion, energy and action. In a drawing, lines are the expression of those things. Line can be just as dramatic and exciting as color; sometimes, maybe more. Lines can dance on the page in energetic squiggles and zig zags, giving an artwork an electric energy, show action or vibrancy. They can be even and soft and have a calming effect. They can be bold or light, long or broken, blurred or sharp, spontaneous or deliberate. You can smudge them into a shaded area to create depth, shadow and mood or you can let the lines speak for themselves.
Black and white creates an opportunity for the viewer to examine the intricate details of a subject; to consider the nuances that might have been overlooked if color saturated the senses. For example, when viewing a colorful floral painting, what I notice most is the pleasing color of the whole painting. Maybe individual flowers catch my eye. Yet, the chances of me noticing the detail of the stamen or the grains of pollen are diminished, as the awe of the colors are what inspire me. Color easily sets the mood.
For me, black and white creates a more moody, introspective piece; one that asks you to investigate it in a more intimate way because it doesn’t give you the instant gratification that a burst of color gives. Black and white begs you to ask yourself the question, “Why black and white? And after that ask yourself, “Why do I ask why? How or what does it make me feel? Does it make me feel differently?” Because no one ever asks, “Why do you paint in color?
Lynn M Cote