Showing posts with label 431 Gallery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 431 Gallery. Show all posts

Sunday, July 12, 2026

Peg Fierke Art – Part Three


Module/Mass (detail), 1984, etching on paper, Peg Fierke



Troy Wasn't Built in a Day

Maybe there is likely a natural evolution of a creative spirit, a maturation, that arrives around the time of mid-career. When the first experiments are over but their lessons have been learned. By which time accolades and innovation are accepted as a part of the process as opposed to means to an end.    

As the 1970s were ending, with the next decade on the horizon, the art of Peg Fierke would begin a transition away from a vantage point of a surreal observation, an almost clinical depiction of the quirks and qualms of life, toward a viewpoint less apart and looking, and more at one with and being. 

Ideas of cross-hatching and the many steps of a marathon, and of personal life, would come more to the forefront of her thinking and appear in her artworks. 

Fierke's first inklings of this change are noted by writer Marion Garmel in her review of Fierke's new work exhibited at a 2-person show, along with Robert Eagerton, at Herron Gallery in 1977. 

In her November 9, Indianapolis News column, the writer observes,

 “Miss Fierke('s)...etchings, colored-pencil and ink drawings, and one large oil are filled with organic, vegetable-like forms in surreal juxtaposition.”

Garmel is describing in this line just a portion of Fierke's works in the show, works that emphasize earlier directions. The writer also notes a new direction for Fierke, in many other pieces,

“Most recently, the artist has moved into color(,) and a kind of wispy, coloring book style dominates her drawings. There is little of the old geometry from which she once constructed three-dimensional environments based on her drawings, but there is a great sense of motion in these new works.”   

Over the following couple of years, Fierke would be involved in numerous activities, both art and otherwise, as noted in the local newspapers. 

In 1978 , she would participate in a Herron Gallery theme show called Chairs. 

Cursory newspaper coverage of the event advised readers that the show of artworks was by Herron students and faculty. The only artist mentioned by name in a February 25 blurb was Fierke, about whom was written “...some marvelous prints by Peg Fierke in which chairs float in space, straddle each other and serve as hanging lines for underwear and seats for grass.”

Related to her life outside of art, Fierke was a volunteer and member in various outings for the Central Indiana Bicycling Association around that time.

Fierke would participate in Roadshow '79 the following year, in what is described in the Indianapolis Star, on July 15,  as an exhibit “of works on 40 billboards throughout Marion County sponsored by the Indianapolis Art League.”   

That same summer, Fierke would be in the group show of local, national and international artists at  Indianapolis Museum of Art, called Contemporary Prints and Drawings by Contemporary Women. The other local women also included were Samia Halaby, who studied at Indiana University at Bloomington, and Martha Slaymaker, a former Indianapolis resident then living in Albuquerque, NM. The more widely-known participants included Alice Neel and Helen Frankenthaler.

Fierke would cap off the '70s, and perhaps an era of her earlier style, with two important shows in the 1980;  a smelly opus of a surreal swan song first, and then the show at the dawn of her new and percussive age of many marks.  

Starting with the first show, in February of 1980, as part of the annual Herron faculty exhibit, Fierke presented her installation/sculpture, Waitin' On Summer.  

I have already covered this artwork, and Marion Garmel's impressions of this thoroughly post-modern Fierke in the prior piece about Steve Mannheimer here.  

But for purposes of understanding this period in Fierke's career, and her art influences at the time, a second look at Garmel's column is helpful.  It quotes Fierke, in her own words,

“Sometimes art seems irrelevant to the rest of your life. I was thinking of the recent Joseph Beuys exhibit in New York. It was so strong because his life is so much a part of his art. It seems important to make other things important to me part of my art.”  

Garmel further writes, explaining,

“Miss Fierke is an avid gardener and various parts of Waitin' On Summer had hung in her backyard since they were first exhibited, in an entirely different manner, at Editions Ltd. Gallery. The seed box, for example once hung from the ceiling and had giant seed pods attached to it. Later it sat in a dead tree in Miss Fierke's backyard, as pictured in a photograph that accompanies the piece.” 

Garmel again quotes the artist,

“It has deteriorated greatly since and that is part of the idea of the piece. The generative notion, of life and growing organic matter. Time goes on. Things change.”

By that November, in a show of pen and ink drawings, it seems Fierke's time had come for things to change.  Marion Garmel, always aware of Fierke's exhibitions and vigilant in covering her career arc, devoted a column of Brush Strokes to the show. 

Held at the Jewish Community Center in Indianapolis, the exhibition was reviewed in the November 1, 1980, Indianapolis News.  The column opens with the line, “No one can accuse Margaret “Peg” Fierke of standing still.”

Garmel goes on describe Fierke's award winning days, reputation and past work, from Grass in 1972 to the most recent Waitin' On Summer, from earlier that year. Garmel then describes a change,

“Now Miss Fierke has taken a new turn. Peg Fierke: Recent Works...is an intriguing show of pen and ink drawings and paintings in which surrealist space and displacement of objects  no longer plays any part.

Indeed, the drawings and paintings all seem to tell little stories in images derived from the artist's current concerns – jogging, bicycling and gardening. More interesting yet, perspective and attempts to create illusion of three-dimensional space have disappeared. All the works are surface pieces, done with a cover of cross-hatched lines that make the images appear to pop out and recede from behind a theatrical scrim.”

Garmel then quotes Fierke directly, from remarks the artist gave at the show's opening,

“In school you are always taught the most contemporary ways of printmaking...But I would go up to the Art Institute (in Chicago) and look at the old prints and love the things the old artists did, the crosshatching, the patterns formed. By manipulating the direction of the stroke you could bring out different things. It's a nice way to get transparencies.

Then I found I could get the same effects of obscuring and transparency with color.”   

Garmel continues her own observations, in response to Fierke's comments about technique, 

“(Fierke) has always been more a technician than a storyteller. Yet the works in this show are almost little autobiographies. It is easy to see what the artist's life is like. She's a dog owner, likes farms and farm animals, runs, bicycles and loves to garden. 

There is a even marriage between life and art in the way these new works are constructed.” 

And along those lines, she quotes Fierke again,

“I think the meticulous mark-making is a lot like running a marathon. The careful buildup, the training – one step at a time, one day at a time. When you run a marathon you don't run 26 miles at once, you run one step at a time.”

In December, some of the same works were shown at Herron and reviewed by Elizabeth Willis-Sowards in Arts Insight magazine. Willis-Sowards also describes the autobiographical nature of many of Fierke's latest images, such as of “the artist's dog, Otto, and wooden protective structures from her garden.”

She further describes the effects of Fierke's new techniques,

“Space and perspective are...multifaceted and complex in Fierke's works. Subtle layers of transparent space , as found in The Wrench or the Troy Bilt painting, juxtapose in the exhibit with drawings like Otto's House which seems to have countless vanishing points, yet remains cohesive.”     


Mid-career Milestone.

The 1980s would bring recurring Herron faculty exhibits every couple of years to showcase Peg Fierke's developing mark making. 

In 1981, her Line of Scrimmage series, a suite of pieces, is described by Garmel in The News as

“a line of hair-width pencil marks snakes like an S, circles like an O and divides like a zipper in 15 panels.” 

Following the progression, in an October 14, 1983, review of the then current Herron faculty show, Garmel describes Fierke's work that year,

“Peg Fierke, who in the past has gone from crisp, linear surrealistic graphics to found-object sculptures, has changed again. Here she is showing heavily painted canvases where each dense stroke is like a feather on a bird.”

By 1985, Peg Fierke will be showing at the new 431 Gallery on Massachusetts Avenue, and it will be a new writer that will review her show. Marcus Chandler, writing in The Indianapolis Star  on March 17, 1985, in a column headlined, Peg Fierke's repetitive patterns are hypnotic, begins the review, in part as follows,

“Peg Fierke is a paragon of compulsion. In her paintings, drawings and prints exhibited at the 431 Gallery...she ceaselessly repeats a single small form. 

With the exception of just two drawings, all of her works are completely covered with elongated ellipses, each approximately the size and the shape of a guppy, each dotted with a dollop of color.

Schools of ellipses are arranged in some of the works as swirling abstract images and in others as recognizable shapes.”  

(An etching on paper from this period, Module/Mass is on current display in the Peg Fierke retrospective exhibit in the Herron Galleries, Evidence of Things Unseen. The show also contains the engraved copper plate used to create that print - see image at top of page)

The writer discusses what he considers the particularly strong works in the show,

“The best paintings in Ms. Fierke's exhibit have a similar hypnotic power, such as On A Roll wherein the gentle flow of countless ellipses creates flower like images. The artist elegantly employs the essential ingredient of hypnosis: repeated suggestion.”


 


Marion Garmel would cover the same show in The Indianapolis News. In her column headlined A kaleidoscope of art appearing March 8, 1985, she writes,

“You might not think much could be made of a thin leaf shape in varying colors but Peg Fierke, in her recent paintings at the 431 Gallery ...would prove you wrong.

Miss Fierke...has been through a number of stags in her career, from the deftly surreal drawings that won her acclaim in the early 1970s to the organic “growing” constructions that she displayed in Herron faculty shows two years ago. 

Now she has turned to painting and a virtuoso turn it is. Seventeen works, mostly paintings, are in her one woman show, all based on the same idea: an oval leaf form repeated hundreds of times across a canvas, sometimes with thick outlines, sometimes with paint-daubed bodies and sometimes with little eyes so that they look like swarms of fish.”

In the thoroughly descriptive and informative column, the writer discusses the chronology of the works, the gallery layout, and a few paintings in particular,

“...Fish Eyes, with its pink eyes in purple fish, looks like fish eyes before you read the tile. On A Roll, which sold at the opening for $1500, has a sunburst effect, in oranges and greens, like a hundred bird feathers proudly spread...

...by far the best is Constancy of Change, selling for $2000 and worth every penny of it. Here the  leaf shapes are outlined in thick yellow with some white space in between, and, as the leaves touch and don't touch across the canvas, a wonderful organic pattern appears. It gives you the feeling of floating in space.”

That fall, Garmel would cover the Herron Faculty Biennial Exhibition in her News column on October 25, 1985. Fresh off her 431 Show, Fierke continues to deliver beautiful artwork, as the writer describes,

“Peg Fierke's The Blood of Others, in her current style of overall painting, is a large canvus full of eyes in which, at strategic points, the paint drips down like tears. It is one of the finest things she has ever done.” 

If Fierke had been peddling her bike toward the top of a hill, perhaps she'd reached some sort of summit by that point. Or if peddling in the desert, some sort oasis or fountain had been found. One thing is clear, she had not strayed far or often, if ever at all, from her road of discovery.

A marathon route, although perhaps preset and known at the outset, is challenging by way of duration, through its pounding pavement.  It presents its own kind of mystery –  Will I make it? –  in every one of its thousands of strides. 

A bicycle ride on an Indiana country road presents adventure at every 90 degree turn. Sometimes the tidy scheme and utility of a farm layout with its fields and buildings, sometimes the shimmering oceans of leaves of growing corn in the wind. If not summer, the winter trees, and the bifurcation of naked branches, like river deltas reaching in the sky. 

In Fierke's work the 431 Gallery Show in 1985, we see a mid-career change of route. A new path underfoot, fresh gravel for the bicycle wheels. Something new is growing in the garden, and we shall see something new in the rhythmic strata of Fierke's work to come, something of a wood-grain flow will come to fruition in Part Four. 



Photo of Peg Fierke in 1982, Indianapolis News



Mark Diekhoff, July 2026


The material used in this article is being used under the fair use provisions of copyright law. The content is being used for educational purposes only, and all rights to the original content are held by their respective copyright owners. We do not claim ownership of any copyrighted material used in this work.

Wednesday, July 9, 2025

Indianapolis Painter Ed Sanders in the 1980s


Evening, Ed Sanders, oil on board
AWI Collection, orig. acquired from the exhibit Ed Sanders - New Works, FLUX,
October 2006


A Thousand Words on Ed Sanders, Indiana Artist

An Indy artist, par excellence.

My research into a trilogy of Indianapolis art topics led me to a dusty manila folder in the newspaper archive section of the Indiana State Library downtown. I was looking into the origins of the Indianapolis art scene I had joined in the 1990s. Specifically the Faris Building art enclave at 546 S Meridian Street, and its precedent boom on Mass Ave, and the larger context of the overall contemporary scene that gave birth to both.  

Cursory and initial research into these topics at the State Library revealed three articles relevant to my study, and a common thread among them. 

Nan Hoffman's October 19, 1986 Indianapolis Star 'Art World' column, “Downtown studios ideal work space, say artists” contains resident and founding artist interviews and is accompanied by a photo of the east-facing entrance of the massive Morris Building as it was known in the '80s along with artists in their studio spaces.

Steve Mannheimer's Indianapolis Star 'Art & Leisure' section front page column February 26, 1989, “A sharing of art, but not a school” opines about a group of local painters, who share a Herron training and an association with the by then established Massachusetts Avenue gallery scene. Exceptional talent, if not a cohesive artistic sensibility or creed, was a common feature of the group Mannheimer discussed.

Finally, Marion Garmel's Indianapolis News 'Free Time' section front page article “Critic likes what he sees in Indiana art” provides enthusiastic coverage of the current scene and specifically the 1990 Indiana Arts Competition hosted by American States Insurance at 500 North Meridian. Theodore F. Wolff, art critic for the Christian Science Monitor judged the competition. 

Ed Sanders looms large in all three write-ups.


Serious meat.

Ed Sanders was slightly apologetic about the small studio space he rented in the Morris Building in 1986. He tells Indianapolis Star writer Nan Hoffman he needed a bigger place but can't afford it. “Maybe one day I'll move into a place with more room, but what I like about this place is that it's very private and lets me go about my work very seriously.” 

Sanders talks about his art materials to Hoffman. Huge oil paintings on plywood, combined with spray paint, caulking materials and more exotic items.  One work contained a real fish. Sanders explanation?

“I coated it with a lot of varnish so it doesn't rot.  I hope it works. It didn't with my last meat painting.” 


Something in the way he painted.

Ed Sanders' 1989 solo show at 431 Gallery was something. Something of a pinnacle of artistic achievement for the painter. Something of the soon to be global zeitgeist of grunge. Something of an almost tornado spinning in a circles attempting to form. Something of a cautionary tale. Whatever its something, it inspired Steve Mannheimer to write a column among his very best.

Mannheimer writes about what he sees as the show's most successful work Torso.  

“Tradition figure studies delineate bold musculature or delicate curve, express the vitality of gesture or sensuous grace. None of that for Sanders. He topples the torso...truncating the trunk, chopping the arms and spilling its guts out on the table.”

The strange workings of the light in Sanders' Torso (and other paintings) bedevils Mannheimer. He thinks out loud when he tries to explain the disconcerting effect. 

“Sanders paints a shrouded world, drenched in night or ashes. And the mass of shapes is too thickly painted and repainted, colored and recolored to allow any simple specific reading.”  

Mannheimer imagines an alternate read of the painting, if rolled on its side 90 degrees (like Sanders has  toppled his Torso).

“...the viscera bloom as flowers in a char-broiled Chagall. And like Chagall, Sanders' compositions float in a fog of melancholy...”

Mannheimer continues to reason with the dark and weight-less peculiarity of Sanders' work.

“As palpable and heavy, as grossly physical as these subjects are...no innate sense of gravity anchors them...Buoyed by the darkness, these subjects float across a range of interpretations.”  

And further, “These paintings hit the viewer like a punch in the face. The piled-up and scraped-down paint coagulates in oily, polychromed scabs.  If anything weighs upon these subjects, it is moral exhaustion. They collapse, not so much in defeat as in deflation.”    

The destabilizing impact and power of the paintings unleashes in Mannheimer thoughts beyond Sanders, his subjects, or his paintings. Mannheimer's thoughts are drawn to a negligent Indianapolis, careless or blindingly unaware of art treasures in its midst. Despite the anguished and existential screams of its best talents, despite a purported bridge to somewhere, a land-locked city sleeps.

“Indianapolis may not exactly be oblivion, although it has too often appeared oblivious to artists like Sanders.” 


A Two for Won.

Although Steve Mannheimer was reticent to declare a contemporary 'school' or identifiable movement in the Indianapolis art scene of a little over a year prior, Indianapolis News columnist Marion Garmel declared such an arrival in her column in the summer of 1990. Her remarks were based on the critical success and growing reputation of group of working artists, mostly Herron grads from the early '80s, who had exhibited at a by then defunct Lyman & Snodgrass Gallery, and the artist-operated 431 Gallery on Massachusetts Avenue. Their new association was the recently formed Indiana Artists' Forum which had a show of work at the new Hindman Gallery at Geist.

The best among them were represented in the exposition '1990 Indiana Arts Competition' at the American States Insurance Company headquarters downtown. 

About the Indiana art he chose,  the show's judge, Thomas F. Wolff of the Christian Science Monitor, said that the work “would hold up well almost anywhere.” The resulting exhibition he describes as “of very real quality, range and depth. I am particularly pleased with the award winners.”

In a personal conversation with Wolff, Garmel quotes the the judge about his unusual selection of not one, but two paintings, as best of  show. Both were by Ed Sanders.  Wolff said simply, “he's a cut above.”  It is an interesting way to describe an artist, head above the rest, one of whose winning paintings was the infamous, dismembered Torso


Through a desert in a school with no name.

Marion Garmel seems intent on naming the unifying feature of the high and rising Indy art movement she proclaims in 1990. She seems at a loss for words though. She names not what its members share, but what they avoid. No easy, no cutesy, no bland, she sums up, about those invited to Wolff's party. It's almost a punch line about the prior movements of Kelly, Warhol and Judd or the future AI photoshop age, but she makes the point.  

Suffice to say, it's a difficult business – the discovery, the elucidation and the coining of 'schools.'

Steve Mannheimer wrestled with the same damned predicament in his Ed Sander's Torso column. It's like he yearned for the perfect word to describe all the great Sanders-like artists around.  He did a good job wondering about their “gritty edge of despair,” their “hands-in approach to the paint,” their “sense of hooded light in cramped spaces,” and their “grappling with uncertain personal metaphors.”  Mannheimer is brilliant here, and unparalleled, in his writing on this subject. 

The searching words of his fretful dissertation could  end with the maxim he used at the start of the column. His early words say it perfectly.

“Before there is history and before there are styles, there are individual artists like Ed Sanders mucking about with that oily aroma on their clothes and canvases.”  

And whether or not history will recall, or for how long, oil paint always smells the same.  


Mark Diekhoff,  July 2025


See also: Ed Sanders - Life and Art  - partial catalogue of 2014 posthumous retrospective at Herron School of Art and Design 



The material used in this article is being used under the fair use provisions of copyright law. The content is being used for educational purposes only, and all rights to the original content are held by their respective copyright owners. We do not claim ownership of any copyrighted material used in this work.

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