11101 Highway One, Ste. 1101
Point Reyes Station, CA 94956

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Resilience has been described as the capacity to cope with stress and adversity by believing in your self and, at the same time, in something greater than yourself. Amidst the challenges of 2020, this exhibition demonstrates profound commitment to the creative process sustained by each of Gallery Route One’s twenty-one Artist Members and Fellows.

These are artists whose depth and breadth of experience have fostered their resilience – their ability to believe in themselves and their work, and in something greater than themselves: the mission of Gallery Route One, to inspire people to experience the world in new ways through art. Scroll down to see examples of artwork and artists’ statements.

In A Mellow Tone, Clay, 18x12x8 ins

Mimi Abers
When I feel down, despairing of the world’s problems, I feel lucky that I can go out and dance with clay, throw colors of glass into the air landing in some form, cracked or not, cook up some food for my granddaughter stuck at home instead of at school, and read inspiring thoughts like this:
“Still I’ll Rise”
Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.”

Charles Anselmo, 2526 Dubreuil Street, New Orleans, Archival Ultrachrome Print, 36inx47in

Charles Anselmo
My photographs are formally linked by the many visual elements and textures of broken structure and interiors, but ultimately this work is more explicitly concerned with the intersection of place memory and social context. Working exclusively with medium and large format film, my images embrace an attempt to fuse aesthetic forms with social ideas as a way of interpreting the past, photographically captured in the warm palette of decay.

Austin Buckingham, RNA34, monotype, 10inx10in

Austin Buckingham
My five monotype print works are collectively called Case Zero.  R-Naught refers to the first traceable and identifiable infection that disperses into the community.  RNA14, RNA24, RNA34 and RNA44 are fragments.  RNA, the coded language, is invisible to us and yet so impactful to our lives.  A microscopic structure can be stronger than us, in that it can threaten our existence and change the trajectory of mankind and the planet. 

Annie Duncan, Two Swimmers, Block Print on Paper, 8×10 ins

Annie Duncan
In this collection of prints, I consider the resiliency of memory over time. I weave together personal narrative, collaged memories, and imagined landscapes in a series of multi-layered prints. My work attempts to capture the ephemeral—reflection, transparency, light, color—and make it concrete.

Mary Mountcastle Eubank, Yellow Tree with Book, Acrylic and mixed media, on canvas, 48 x 35 ins.

Mary Mountcastle Eubank

A sensuous relationship to the natural world is the subject. I want to imagine a replica of a landscape that is not an imitation, but a reflection of my inner response to landscape and place.

Joe Fox, Still Life, cast cement, 12 x 16 x 12 ins.

Joe Fox
The sculptures I made for this show involve casting objects in cement, concrete, and plaster. Objects that were hollow, are now solid. Embodying a new material, they acquire a new visual weight- literally, as a result of becoming heavier. The familiar object is transformed through its altered tactility, color, and mass. The imperfections in the casting process amplify the hand-crafted reinterpretation of the sleek, standardized, mass produced object.

Tim Graveson, Columns with Book Beam, MixedMedia, 57inX79in


Tim Graveson
This sculpture is comprised of two wooden columns and a section of books as a beam. My preference is to let the viewer tell me the story, to imbue the object with their internal feelings. If I have to put the sculpture into a category it would be social justice, The columns stand in for justice and the book beam for the  weight of justice.

Jenny-Lynn Hall, Tree (Resilience) detail, Mixed Media, Plaster

Jenny-Lynn Hall
Trees, the grandfathers of the landscape, will outlive us and observe myriad climactic changes with stately grace. Trees are a meaningful symbol of resilience.

Steven Hurwitz, Stripe Series1, Polychromed Wood, 10 x10

Steven Hurwitz
My studio is meant to be a place for fun. A place for music, dance, painting, and sculpture. Turn on some disco, begin with a little dance, mix a little color, a brief bow to a photo of John Waters, channel kindergarten. These are a product of that attitude. Did I mention, close the door?

Betsy Kellas, PandemicPink, Delivery Box Cardboard and Laytex Paint on Panel, 24 x 24 ins.

Betsy Kellas
During the past ten months, repurposed cardboard has become both my medium of choice and my metaphor for “resilience”. It arrives on my doorstep carrying things that connect me to the outside world, it sustains my creative practice, and it strengthens my belief in the power of art to transcend the uncertainty of these very uncertain times.

Marie-Luise Klotz, New Zealand, photograph

Marie-Luise Klotz
A forest functions as an invisible network in which trees communicate, warn and nourish each other through their root system. Clouds and waterways form the same recurring patterns on micro and macro levels. My current work contemplates how, within nature, our perception of individuality and separateness may not only be false, but may hinder the efforts of our own species to survive as a global population in trying times.

Diana Marto, Contemplating Sand #3, MixedMedia, 34x51ins

Diana Marto
Working intuitively, my paper is spread out on the ground, 800 hundred feet above the sea, holding 2 sumi brushes in one hand,  I dip them in gold and paint a gesture while singing.
Gold for gold / Black sumi ink for spiritual principals / Orange hues for power, the warrior’s shield.
All of this is in retrospect. When I pin the painting to my studio wall, I see the symbols, I see the message and I feel it’s strength. I hope that you do too.


Bruce Mitchell, Still Dancing, Eucalyptus Burl

Bruce Mitchell
The pleat-like folds in this sculpture are intended to suggest a skirt worn by an invisible dancer who is savoring the resilience of aging well.

Zea Morvitz, November, Gouache, graphite, m/m on panel, 16 x 12 ins.

Zea Morvitz
Every day I walk in the forest to experience something beautiful and not of human making. Every month this year I’ve sent a handmade postcard to anyone who asked. January 2020 seemed a very dark month. I turned my back on the darkness, and worked. In mid-January I decided to send postcards to distant friends struggling with illness and loss — and then I thought: why not mail a postcard to anyone, who wants to get one? Making and sending postcards seemed a positive act against isolation and fear.

Shannon O’Neill-Creighton, Cactus Bloom, Gum Print, 8×10

Shannon O’Neill-Creighton
Trees embody the essence of resilience. They communicate through their roots and their scent, they save seed for the future, and they humbly offer their wealth of resources. Walnut. Juniper’s Nut. Fast-Growing. Wide Canopy. Self-Polinating. Offering a hardened stone fruit that holds the next generation inside. Maple. Wide leafed. Hardwood. Samaras; winged seeds spiraling down to the wet earth. Resilience is generosity and wisdom in motion. Watch how they share more and take less.

StevePring, Resilience, Acrylic on Panel, 25 x 19 ins.

Steve Pring
I have two paintings in the group show. One is titled Perseverance which is the ability to keep doing something in spite of obstacles. The other is titled Resilience which is adapting well in the face of adversity.

Igor Sazevich, Isolation, Oil on canvas, 24inx24in

Igor Sazevich
I was bending toward experimenting with trying my hand in the trippy new art style happening in the art world, but a sense of resilience toward a drastic change took over.  As I debated, the Pandemic hit, and at the same time, the California fires were spreading; a new devastating era flowed across our continent. As the news raged, my inner moody self lifted a brush and poured out on canvas what I believe we all were experiencing and labeled the two works: ISOLATION / GONE

Will Thoms, One Doors Closes And Another Opens, Detail,Mixed Media On Panel

Will Thoms
I want each painting to have a clear physical presence and to come forward from its place on the wall to meet you, the viewer. There is no illusion and no reference to anything beyond the thing itself. The driving impulse for me is always one of hopeful, open-ended experimentation and the simple pleasure of making something new.

Vickisa, Waiting For Covid To Go Away, Mixed Water Media

I’m working on a series of painted drawings about Waiting, how to learn from it, almost as if in the form of admonitions. 
Waiting, being still and quiet, has always been a real problem for me as I am usually doing something just trying to shake it up and make it happen and make it better. I suffer from over enthusiasm.

Xander Weaver Scull, untitled, Lithograph, 15 x 11 ins.

Xander Weaver-Scull
My first child was born into this world mid September, what an amazing blessing and treasure during these wild times! During Covid-19 and our pregnancy, birth and infancy of our child, my creative energy has been focused outside of my normal art practice andI am pulling from work produced over the past decade. Relying on older artwork to participate in this exhibit is my own form of resilience, as I explore my own limited capacity outside the immediacy of fatherhood. For me, these works all feel resonate when I think of “Resilience”.

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