Join us in May as Regina Losinger and Barbara Bernstein share our featured space with works about water.

Barbara Bernstein

My eightieth birthday present from my sons was a trip to Alaska. Last August they and their families went on a cruise with me. The scenery was spectacular, and I wanted to share it with everyone. Majestic, snow-covered mountains lined the Alaskan Inside Passage. Glaciers wended their way down some of those mountains and icebergs floated in the water. I was entranced by the textures on the mountain walls carved and shaped by centuries of calving glaciers.

Dolphins, orcas, and humpback whales swam beside our boat. I will never forget spotting my first whale spout shortly after we left Vancouver, BC. We also saw bears, bald eagles, and lots of salmon being hunted by seals.

The cruise was even more special because I had my whole family with me. None of them live in the Binghamton area so we are seldom all together. The small sculptures in this show illustrate the many ways we all experience loving relationships.

Regina Losinger

with guest Ashlyn Kelly

There are places in New York’s Adirondack Mountains and Canada’s Algonquin Provincial Park that one can reach only by water and will – carried into by paddle and portage with quiet determination. They reward the effort with something increasingly rare: true silence, deep stillness, and unfiltered beauty. This body of work grows out of years the artist spent paddling and camping in that backcountry. Few people see these lakes at dawn, these interiors of forest lit from within, or skies held perfectly in dark, undisturbed water. Fewer still experience the profound stillness that lives there. Most of the oil and acrylic paintings are contemporary impressionist landscapes emphasizing light and reflection and grounded in direct observation. Small watercolors, many of which the artist painted in the back country, are in the show. These works do not aim to distort the landscape, but to reveal it-to express the rhythm of trees, the weight of rock, and the way light filters, diffuses, and fractures through wilderness. The intention is not only to show what these places look like, but to evoke what it feels like to be there. The large-format paintings invite the viewer to step inside: to stand in the hush before sunset, to feel forest light gathering, to sense water moving softly against a boat hull. The accompanying photographs capture moments seen, carried out, and held. This exhibition is an invitation: to slow down, to listen, and to remember what it feels like to be small within a vast, living world. To follow the water…to go where the loons call