Silent Conversations: The Paintings of Frances Galante

WoodmereArtMuseum

Silent ConversationsTHE PAINTINGS OF FRANCES GALANTE

Woodmere extends sincere thanks and appreciation to Phyllys B. Fleming, Elizabeth S. and John Lindsay,

Janet Wilson Smith, Michael Neal Pavol, Virginia N. Naude, Helma N. Weeks, Sharrie R. Bobrow for their

generous support of this catalogue and exhibition.

In memoriam Frances Galante

1957–2015

April 4 – June 7, 2015

CONTENTS

Foreword by Hildy Tow 2

A Conversation with Frances Galante 4

Works in the Exhibition 18

WoodmereArtMuseum

Silent ConversationsThe Paintings of Frances Galante

2 WOODMERE ART MUSEUM

Woodmere Art Museum is proud to present Silent

Conversations: The Paintings of Frances Galante. We

feel sadness at Frances’ recent passing and at the

same time we celebrate her many contributions to

the vitality of the arts in Philadelphia.

Frances was a wonderful teacher and mentor. Every

Tuesday morning for many years, Woodmere’s

studio would be filled with people, canvases,

palettes, and easels, all in place for “Creating a

Mood with Still Life,” one of the many classes she

led. Frances was a much-loved teacher whose

extraordinary knowledge and experience with

color, light, composition, materials, and technique

attracted many. Her classes overflowed with

students eager for her insight and inspiration. The

special attention she gave to individual artistic

vision fostered her students’ confidence in their

work.

In the conversation in this catalogue with her friend

Paul DuSold, Frances says, “It can solve a lot of

problems in life if you can just sit quietly in a room

and pay attention.” This understanding of what it

means to be present is reflected in her depiction

of light and shadow, rich subtleties of color and

tone, and thoughtful arrangement of objects and

particulars of gestures. Her paintings connect us to

a gentle stillness and appreciation for the moment,

often missed in the hectic bustle of our day-to-day

lives. The sensitivity and perception that Frances

communicated through her art resonated in her

personality. Her warmth, honesty, and patience were

felt in all her interactions.

Woodmere is extremely grateful to Paul DuSold

for his dedication to this exhibition and efforts on

its behalf. The outpouring of generosity for this

exhibition attests to the enormous impact Frances

had on many lives. The Museum extends sincere

thanks and appreciation to Phyllys B. Fleming,

Elizabeth S. and John Lindsay, Janet Wilson Smith,

Michael Neal Pavol, Virginia N. Naude, Helma N.

Weeks, and Sharrie R. Bobrow for their support of

this catalogue and exhibition.

A special thank you to Frances for showing us

the strength in humility and potential in quiet

attentiveness. This exhibition and catalogue tell the

story of a beloved artist whose generosity of spirit

and legacy as a painter and teacher live on.

HILDY TOW

The Robert McNeil, Jr., Curator of Education

FOREWORD

SILENT CONVERSATIONS: THE PAINTINGS OF FRANCES GALANTE 3

Fishing on the Beach, 2000, by Frances Galante (Collection of John J. Colussi)


On December 15, 2014, artists Paul DuSold and Frances Galante sat down to talk about Galante’s work and her upcoming exhibition at Woodmere

PAUL DUSOLD: Let’s start from the beginning,

Frances. Tell us where you’re from.

FRANCES GALANTE: I’m from Philadelphia, from

the section of Mount Airy that’s closer to Oak

Lane. It’s a little rowhouse neighborhood. I went

to grade school there. I was first encouraged to

study art, or take a Saturday class, by a teacher

when I was ten.

DUSOLD: You must have had some talent.

GALANTE: Yes, I showed some talent. Before

taking classes I would do things like make

greeting cards. I also liked to do detailed

drawings. My family was pretty cultured. I’m the

youngest of three children. We were encouraged

to be well rounded and to read music. My mother

was a pianist. There was always classical music

on in the house. We had lots of art and other

reference books. But the first real exhibition that

I remember seeing was in the mid-1970s, when

I was in my late teens. It was an exhibition of

work by Cecilia Beaux at the Civic Center. It was

beautiful. I was blown away.

DUSOLD: At that time were you painting in

addition to drawing?

GALANTE: Correct. I had a high school teacher

who was a nun. She was very demanding.

She required us to study Janson’s History of

Art and we had to do a drawing every night

in a sketchbook. She introduced us mostly to

painting, starting with watercolor and acrylic.

DUSOLD: Was your family encouraging of your

art?

GALANTE: They liked it but they worried about

my future in terms of income. They both liked the

A CONVERSATION WITH FRANCES GALANTE

Above: Bureau with Hydrangeas, 2002, by Frances Galante (Collection of Thomas DeBerardinis, M.D.)

Right: Flower Glass Watercolor 2, 1974, by John Moore (Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of Frank Galuszka, 2013)


fact that I had talent, but they thought, especially

my father, that it should be more of a hobby. He

felt I should become a teacher or some other sort

of professional. As I mentioned, my family is very

artistic and there was a lot of exposure to art,

music, literature, and philosophy, and a strong

interest in beautiful craftsmanship. All four of

my grandparents were excellent tailors; one of

my great uncles was a high school art teacher;

my mother had artistic talent, as does her sister;

both my sisters are into art and are very creative.

My father even tried painting for a couple of

weeks, but didn’t like it. My mother most of all

was an excellent pianist and gave piano lessons.

My sisters and I were taken to classical music

concerts, the ballet, and art exhibitions at the

major museums. My father was a lawyer. He

wanted his daughters to work, make money, and

retire. He wanted me to pursue art on Sundays.

But I was adamantly against that because I knew

that I would never develop if I only painted on

Sunday.

DUSOLD: When did you decide to go to art

school?

GALANTE: When I was in high school I knew I

wanted to attend art school. I had to be able

to afford it because I had to pay for it. So there

weren’t too many choices other than Tyler

(at Temple University) and the Pennsylvania

Academy of the Fine Arts (PAFA). I chose Tyler

because it had the degree and I enrolled right

after graduating high school. Tyler introduced

me to such a broad range of styles. The first

year I just studied the foundations. There were

some representational teachers there like John

Moore, Chuck Schmidt, and Roger Anliker. I was

interested in representational painting even

though abstraction was a little more trendy at the

time.


DUSOLD: Was there antagonism to

representational painting at Tyler?

GALANTE: Well, there was a group of students

who defended their modern take on things, which

sometimes made me feel old fashioned and

provincial.

DUSOLD: Did you get support from Anliker and

Moore and so forth?

GALANTE: Yes. John Moore was the most

supportive. I was working while going to

school so I’d do classwork and then run to my

waitressing job. I really didn’t get a chance to

have the full college experience. I had to do

certain foundation requirements that I really

didn’t want to do, like abstract sculpture, graphic

design, and using the equipment in the wood

shop. The curriculum was very broad. I was

starting to feel like it wasn’t helping me. I felt

I wasn’t getting the concentrated drawing and

painting that I wanted.

DUSOLD: Were you doubting representational

painting at this point?

GALANTE: Yes, I was. In my third year at Tyler, I

started making large, abstract paintings inspired

by abstract expressionism, but I felt that it was

actually very difficult to make interesting abstract

painting. I had nothing to base it on. What do I

begin with? Where should I start? I didn’t know

why I was doing it. Then I moved into more

conceptual things. The conceptual and abstract

work I was doing met with greater approval from

both students and faculty. I was doing things like

putting notes on trees. Happening also started

to occur in New York. I decided not to go back

to Tyler for my last semester and I moved to New

York.

DUSOLD: You stopped short of getting a degree

at Tyler?

GALANTE: Yes. Eventually I felt like I would be

sorry if I didn’t have a degree when I was so

close. In 1980 I found out about a program at Ox-

Bow in Saugatuck, Michigan. I went out there to

study. I got a dishwashing job for the summer and

I was able to get enough credits to finish my BFA.

It was at Ox-Bow that I met Leonard Anderson

and learned about his strict approach and his love

of classical and Renaissance art. He showed me

how to really look and observe. I loved it. I was

about 23 when I finished and then I moved back

to Philly. I never went back to experimenting with

other styles. I devoted myself to representational

painting.

DUSOLD: Do you remember what art historical

work you found inspiring or influential?

GALANTE: I’ve always liked still lifes, particularly

Spanish still lifes from the 1600s. And I’ve always

liked interior scenes.

DUSOLD: There’s something about still life that’s

very contemplative. You can work by yourself as

a painter and there’s something attractive about

that.

GALANTE: Yes, and being with people doing

portraiture is nerve-racking. Being outside had

its practical problems. I like landscape, but it’s

arduous and potentially dangerous for a young

woman. Although when I did it, it gave me a

sense of freedom.

DUSOLD: You moved back to Philadelphia after

completing your degree. What was it like in

Philadelphia at that time?


GALANTE: I didn’t paint very often. I was working.

I really didn’t get back into any kind of drawing or

painting until 1984. I was in a crisis. I questioned

myself, asking, what am I? Am I an artist or a legal

secretary? It was a period of crisis in terms of my

identity. I moved back home with my parents. I took

some classes in pastel at the Abington Art Center.

Then, in 1984, I started going to PAFA at night.

There I got much more instruction in drawing and

painting in the traditional sense of representational

art originating in ancient Greece, which was what I

was looking for.

DUSOLD: Were you working full time during the day

while you were going to school at night?

GALANTE: Yes. I met Arthur De Costa, who was

very influential for me. He helped me learn how to

mix color and understand how to paint a figure. He

gave me more information than I’d ever gotten at

any school. With Arthur I got more specifics and it

made it easier to do what I wanted to do. Lou Sloan

was also influential. I did a lot of strict drawing and

painting every night for a couple of years. I felt that

I knew where I belonged. Everything was perfect.

Eventually, I enrolled in daytime classes and would

go to my job afterward. Unfortunately, again, I didn’t

have the typical school experience. It was hard to

bond with fellow students because I worked so

much. But I was determined not to go into debt.

I got my certificate in 1990. Later I saved some

money and went to Europe and saw what I wanted

to see. I gave myself a little reward. I wanted to see

all the architecture and art.

DUSOLD: How was your experience at PAFA

different from your Tyler experience?

GALANTE: At PAFA you weren’t split in so many

different directions about art. It was all unified,

which I think is the only way to learn—focusing

on one thing. I could learn only representational

drawing or painting and forget what everybody else

was doing. After completing my studies, I eventually

got a restoration job with Raymond Spiller.

DUSOLD: What kind of work did you do there?

GALANTE: Mostly cleaning things that came from

people’s homes and restoring little tears and doing

some in-painting. I learned on the job, but I felt like I

had enough technical training at PAFA to mix color.

DUSOLD: When did still life begin to be a focus for

you?

GALANTE: In 1992, I was invited to be represented

by Artists’ House Gallery. They asked me for still

lifes. I liked still lifes and they began to be a focus

because the galleries wanted them. In the early ’90s,

I got a studio at 12th and Vine Streets. It was the

first time I had a real artist’s studio just for painting.Celadon Squash and Rose, 1979, by Arthur De Costa (Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the estate of Arthur De Costa, 2007)


Interior with Chair, 2001, by Frances Galante (Collection of Harold A. Sarvetnick)


DUSOLD: That must have been a very different

experience for you. Your working life up until then

was always split between working and painting.

Now you had what every artist dreams of: a space

dedicated to making artwork.

GALANTE: Yes, it was wonderful. I loved the north

light in that studio. I would arrange the still life in

the window. I had a bureau with a highly reflective

surface on it and I loved to see the reflection of the

objects and being able to capture the atmosphere

and light and the flowers. I choose a lot of objects

that represent luxury and food. I love food and

delicacies. Then I really started looking at the

Spanish still life paintings of the 1600s. I studied the

light, the shadow, and the drama there. I also love

Vermeer and the beautiful subtleties of his lighting

effects.

DUSOLD: So light became part of your subject

matter?

GALANTE: Oh yes. That’s what attracted me to

what I would paint and how I would do it. I would

go to Reading Terminal Market and buy flowers

and fruit and bread and cake. I had a collection

of porcelain things and I would set them all up. It

would take a long time. I was only painting from

life at the time. The flowers would die while I was

painting them, so I started doing one or two in

detail and would try to finish them, then I’d replace

the others. I was approaching flowers like I was

painting portraits. I was focusing on every petal.

DUSOLD: You were painting individual specimens.

For an artist like you, painting still life by yourself,

there’s the joy of contemplation, but there’s also

isolation.

GALANTE: That’s right. In the studio building

where I was working at the time, I knew there

were other people working because the building

was full of other studios. But I had to be isolated.

There was a lot of tedium. There were a lot of

tedious hours. I changed my mind a lot, too. I’d

decide that I wanted a particular object, or didn’t

want another one. I’d change the background.

The painting could take a lot longer than just the

final version, which takes long enough. All the

paintings underneath the final version changed

many times. Then I’d get all these anxieties: Do

I really have to do that? Am I making a mistake?

I’d talk to myself a lot about doubt. It was a real

roller coaster. If it went well I would say, oh, I

can’t wait to exhibit it! If somebody came into

my studio and ignored a painting I felt like, oh no,

that’s a bad one, I’ll just have to shelve that one.

DUSOLD: I think as an artist you are always

wrestling with confidence. Confidence can be

evident in the final painting and, of course,

whenever you paint your entire self-esteem is at

risk while you’re working!

GALANTE: That confidence took a long time for

me to develop. After I was invited to join the

gallery, some of my work sold and that’s what

allowed me to have more confidence. Then my

husband, Thuan, and I bought the house where

I live and work now and of course the light

changed. I never had north light again. Here the

light comes from the west and you have to work

in the morning or in the summer I can work in the

evenings. The evening light is gentle. The light at

the end of the day is very appealing because it

seems emotionally significant more than visually

significant. It’s more like my own personality: not

bright sunshine but quieter and more observant.

I do a lot of my painting when people are settling


down to have dinner. Socially it was hard, but

with the western light it would come in in these

patches all day long and I couldn’t use it.

DUSOLD: Would you say that you began painting

interiors more here? That’s where that part of

your oeuvre developed?

GALANTE: Yes.

DUSOLD: Was it the space you were inspired by

as well as the light? Your studio here is very large.

GALANTE: It was a big challenge. There’s a

skylight over here, western light over there. Then

I started to see these backlight situations and

reflections.

DUSOLD: Let’s talk about Orchids (2012). Tell me

about that painting, or your memory of painting

it.

GALANTE: In 2012, I decided to try to paint

more loosely. I’ve always been torn between

being a tight renderer and using more expressive

brushwork. I decided the best way to be

expressive was to do it fast. I had always done

things that were looser and quicker on the side.

I was afraid maybe that this looked inconsistent

to people and that people weren’t sure exactly

who I was. People seem to want to know you

before they collect you. That doesn’t really suit

me because I want to do what I want to do, when

I want to do it. To me it doesn’t matter if it’s

tight or loose. It’s not like I’m planning that out.

I just began to think that I liked the looser, more

expressive brushwork that I was seeing around in

galleries. I never liked perfectly crisp paintings or

photo-realism.

DUSOLD: One of the things I see that’s different

Left: Orchids, 2012, by Frances Galante (Courtesy of the estate of the artist)

Right: Hanging Pheasant, 2012, by Frances Galante (Courtesy of the estate of the artist)


in Orchids compared to your other work is the

feeling that you’re painting a fragment of the

setup as opposed to having the stalks go all the

way down and show the base and the pot and the

tabletop. This is just the flowers.

GALANTE: Including all of that other stuff would

mean I’d have to include a lot of background. I

wasn’t painting a still life.

DUSOLD: When you’re painting something like

that, do you find that other paintings come to

mind as you’re working, paintings that you’re

influenced by?

GALANTE: Yes, I began looking at Édouard

Manet’s flowers. Manet was an influence for me

years ago too. Then my eye would start to paint

tighter compositions and I would be influenced

by other artists.

DUSOLD: The bottom line is, if you’re inspired,

that’s all there is to it. Let’s talk about Hanging

Pheasant (2012).

GALANTE: It took me a long time to pose the

pheasant and figure out how I wanted to paint it.

I started with some parameters. I had the frame

and I had the board prepared and I decided to do

a vertically oriented painting that would fit into it.

The pheasant was a gift from you, Paul, so I didn’t

plan any of this. I had to put it on tables, and I

used different lighting. Then I started pulling the

wings out. I had to make them stiff, and I thought,

oh, that’s what I want. I wanted to make it look

like it could fly. I had always loved American

artists’ paintings of pheasants. It was wintertime,

it was very cold, and I didn’t turn the heat on.

I just painted it like that to get the iridescence

of the body, the torso, the plumage, and the


structure of the wings. It seems to me like a very

hopeful painting. Yes, it’s hanging there dead, but

it’s going to feed people. I appreciate the life-

giving ability of the bird and the gorgeousness of

it. Birds and their feathers are amazing. I almost

never started painting it. I just kept looking at it

and petting it [laughs].

DUSOLD: You were taking joy in its beauty!

GALANTE: Yes. It was so hard to paint. There was

so much structure, it was like painting lace. And

those wings took forever.

DUSOLD: Do you use underpaintings?

GALANTE: I don’t use underpaintings. I just

do a wash. Instead of drawing, I use paint, as a

drawing. I usually start with light and then take

a light mixture of a neutral gray to do a drawing

instead of using a charcoal pencil. I need the

whole thing laid out for placement and that takes

a long time. Then I figure out where the shadow’s

going to be, then I start painting.

DUSOLD: When you’re setting up your

arrangements, I know there are formal qualities to

consider, but also, do you find as you’re setting

up that you’re responding to how different

compositions affect you emotionally? Do you

know the moment when that emotional response

tells you, this is the composition I should paint?

GALANTE: Yes, that’s what I’m hoping for.

Sometimes it doesn’t happen that easily.

Ultimately in this case I decided that being under

the skylight showed off the iridescence of the

feathers best, and that was the primary thing

for me. That emotional quality usually happens

almost accidentally. I’ll do all kinds of different

things and then go take a break. When I finally

get back in the studio, I can see things totally

differently. A third option is there now, that I

didn’t notice.

DUSOLD: On average, how long does it take you

to set up a still life?

GALANTE: Most of a day. Then a day for the kind

of underpainting that I do. Then maybe I’ll move

that around. I also started teaching and my life

got chopped up, so I had to start using photos.

I painted only from life for at least twenty years,

and it was a great pleasure. As my time got more

chopped up with other life demands, I found it

necessary to complete my work from photos. By

then I had enough experience painting from life,

examining real form and color relationships, to

be able to produce good work from photos. The

paintings, however, can take anywhere from five

hours to two hundred hours, depending on how

developed they are.

Two Apricots on a Plate, 1993, by Frances Galante (Collection of Lorraine and Marv Riesenbach)


DUSOLD: Let’s also talk about Model in the

Studio (2004).

GALANTE: For this one I was at the total other

end of the studio. I knew that I wanted to

have the implication of a big room so I put the

furniture in the corners. Here there’s a quiet

light. I’m using two lights and some backlighting

and she’s under the skylight. My still life is in the

background. It’s kind of a self-portrait of my life. I

like the idea of sitting quietly in a room and how

that can seem so difficult. Yet it can solve a lot

of problems in life if you can just sit quietly in a

room and pay attention. [laughs]

DUSOLD: Paying attention to what’s there.

GALANTE: Yes. As a painter, paying attention and

having focus is hard to do rather than looking for

action and conflict.

DUSOLD: Your careful sense of attention is what

is so satisfying about observing your paintings.

The viewer’s eye goes from moment to moment

within the painting and each moment offers

something to contemplate. The most dramatic

element in this painting would be the figure,

although she is very quietly present in the

painting. There are other moments, like the light

on her shoulders or the gloss of the light on her

Model in the Studio, 2004, by Frances Galante (Courtesy of the estate of the artist)


Florist Street, 1995, by Frances Galante (Courtesy of the estate of the artist)


shin. Then the eye can move down and see those

beautiful, gentle shadows pass by the stools and

their transition from light into shadow. Then your

eye travels back to the still life. I love the chair

behind the desk and the objects on it. The soft

focus on the chair is just beautiful. It seems as

though you’ve underdescribed the structure of

the window to get that light coming in in a more

pronounced way.

GALANTE: Yes, that is purposeful. I like that

dissolving look. It about the light, it’s not about

the window structure.

DUSOLD: Can we talk about Florist Street (1995)?

GALANTE: Of course. The street is near here.

It was just something I saw spontaneously and

thought, that’s interesting.

DUSOLD: I should say right away that you live

within blocks of the Benjamin Franklin Bridge.

GALANTE: Yes, and it’s the gritty city, but to me

it looks very pretty because of the pastel colors.

And it didn’t even occur to me that I was painting

a dumpster until I saw it finished. I didn’t even

notice what it was.

DUSOLD: Again, you were responding to the light.

GALANTE: Yes. And it has backlighting and that

hazy, Philadelphia-type light that’s influencing the

way the bridge appears. We had just purchased

this house too, so I was very excited. It was my

new world.

DUSOLD: I love the color temperature balance

between the warms of the stone and the cools of

the ironwork on the bridge. It’s very subtle, but

they balance each other out, both in proportion

and color. The spatial effect of the bridge is

gorgeous. Talk to me about the contrast between

the dumpster and the rest.

GALANTE: It partially blocks the view. It’s dark

and it’s right in the middle. I like the real-life

aspect of it. It looks kind of elegant. It looks like

it’s going to roll off on its own and have some

character. It has a reflective surface, so in the side

view there is a warm light.

DUSOLD: One of the main elements of the

painting is a dumpster, yet because of the lighting

effect, to me the painting is unquestionably

joyful.

GALANTE: Sure, there’s nothing bad about trash

or back streets. This might not be the painting

that many people are going to buy. I exhibit it

and I keep it, because I love it. I barely see what

people are painting sometimes. The “what” of it is

so secondary.

DUSOLD: You mean the “what” of the subject

matter?

GALANTE: Yes. I look at the light, the color,

the relationship of the objects, how they’re

staying together, the expression. I have to have

a spontaneous reaction to a beautiful light

situation. I don’t paint on the street anymore, but

it was fun when I did.

DUSOLD: I love your Regina (2009) portrait.

GALANTE: This was more planned. I wanted to

challenge myself with something larger using a

limited palette. A fair amount of it is made up. I

don’t have a window like that and I think that may

not be that successful. I had the model and I had

to work also from photos. I kept the palette very

limited.


DUSOLD: Tell me about setting it up, your choice

of the model, what you had in mind.

GALANTE: I wanted somebody near the

window, a young woman. I wanted a scene of

relaxation so she’s holding a cup of coffee with

a contemplative, musing kind of pose. I was

thinking more about color balance: the red thing

behind her, the green stool, and then the white,

reflective enamel table. The structure took me a

while. I wanted to pose the chair so that it was a

cheerier situation. It was more of an exercise for

me to test myself to see if I could still do a figure,

you know, after all the still lifes.

DUSOLD: It’s beautiful. The composition has a

soft contrast.

GALANTE: The kind of dramatic lighting that

Rembrandt used, for example, is not my strong

suit.

DUSOLD: That type of lighting wouldn’t have that

same quietude.

GALANTE: I’m not a high-energy person, so I

think it goes with my nature. All my paintings are

about resting. [laughs] I’m an observer. It’s what I

like to do. I’d rather be sitting in a chair having a

cup of coffee than actually painting. [laughs] It’s

work.

DUSOLD: But painting, of course, gives the

opportunity to express the joy of that.

GALANTE: Yes, painting is a way of

communicating with the world and I’m not just

doing this for myself. Self-expression isn’t just

for the self, because I know other people will

respond and have the same feelings. I want to

communicate with them through my work. That is

what keeps me motivated to finish a painting and

get it out there. Ultimately that’s the goal.

DUSOLD: In the end, certainly, we become

painters from a need. Making artwork at least

temporarily and sporadically fills that hole in

us, but there’s something incomplete about us

without that artistic expression.

GALANTE: I’ve always considered those

questions. Why do I need to do this? When do I

spend long periods—months or years—without

doing it? I did a lot of reading on that topic.

Painting just seems like another inexplicable

human characteristic. Who knows where it comes

from? Some people need to write music, write

literature; some people need to draw and paint. I

wouldn’t do it if there weren’t a chance to show

it. I would stop. That would make me feel self-

Regina, 2009, by Frances Galante (Courtesy of the estate of the artist)


conscious if I were alone at home. I would feel

like, oh, I can’t just sit around painting and

drawing. It’s just like sitting and reading. There

is no connection to society, to the world. I

never wanted this to be for me and to put it on

the shelf or on the wall. I wouldn’t improve. It

wouldn’t be good if I weren’t out there having

it shown next to other people’s work. I want to

be part of a history. I didn’t invent painting. I’m

part of a long line. The truth of the matter is, it’s

not pleasurable for me to paint. That’s the funny

thing. It’s a need, and I’m glad when it’s done. If I

want pleasure, I’d rather garden, or cook, or read.

Painting is work and I want a reward for that

work.

DUSOLD: What kind of reward are you talking

about?

GALANTE: Understanding from others.

Opportunities to show and sell and be talked

about. I feel like I’ve experienced those rewards

on a small scale, and it’s very satisfying. It can be

too much if you do too much or if you can’t do

it enough—if your teaching conflicts with your

work, for example. To tell you the truth, teaching

can confuse me, because there are so many ways

to create artwork, and the students have their

own ways already. There are so many modes

of expression. I just adapt to the students and

appreciate what they’re doing. It doesn’t inform

my own work, but it was much more enjoyable

than any other job I ever had, for sure. Much more

satisfying. I’ve been teaching for thirteen years.

DUSOLD: Your students love you. As your

colleague, I know you’ve been an encouraging

teacher for many students. Thank you, Frances,

this has been very enjoyable.

Galante in the studio at Woodmere teaching students how to paint from the model, 2014. Photograph courtesy of Woodmere Art Museum.


Florist Street, 1995Oil on stretched linen, 14 x 12 inches

Rooftops in Brooklyn, 2002 Oil on matboard, 16 x 12 inches

Yellow Tablecloth, 2002Oil on linen attached to Masonite panel, 20 x 26 inches

Lakshmi, c. 2003Oil on muslin attached to board, 19 ¾ x 16 in. Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the artist and Thuan Bui, 2009

Model in the Studio, 2004 Oil on stretched linen, 18 x 24 inches

Regina, 2009Oil on stretched linen, 36 x 32 inches

J.W., 2011 Oil on Masonite panel, 16 x 12 inches

Hanging Pheasant, 2012Oil on muslin attached to Masonite panel, 32 x 20 inches

Orchids, 2012 Oil on Masonite panel, 14 x 18 inches

WORKS IN THE EXHIBITION

Unless noted, all works listed below are by Frances Galante (1957–2015) and are courtesy of

the estate of the artist.

Lakshmi, c. 2003, by Frances Galante (Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the artist and Thuan Bui, 2009)


Woodmere Art Museum receives state

arts funding support through a grant

from the Pennsylvania Council on the

Arts, a state agency funded by the

Commonwealth of Pennsylvania and the National

Endowment for the Arts, a federal agency.

Support provided in part by

The Philadelphia Cultural Fund.

© 2015 Woodmere Art Museum. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher.

Photography by Rick Echelmeyer unless otherwise noted. Catalogue designed by Barb Barnett and Emma E. Hitchcock, and edited by Gretchen Dykstra.

Front cover: Yellow Tablecloth, 2002, by Frances Galante (Courtesy of the estate of the artist)

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Silent Conversations: The Paintings of Frances Galante

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