North Bay artists find dogs and cats a great inspiration— art and in life

by Sandy Lurins

As one explores the dozens of galleries in the North Bay’s coastal and vineyard towns, themes begin to emerge. There are galleries that concentrate on works depicting our natural landscapes: rolling hills with vineyards, gentle rivers, rocky shorelines, towering redwoods. Look closely, though, and you will find other themes: one of them is the depiction of dogs and cats. Three North Bay artists, Robin Eschner, Mylette Welch, and Jim Sumner, are among the community of North Bay artists who have found that dogs and cats are more than cute subjects with which to decorate their work: they communicate personal, spiritual, and political concepts in ways that human subjects cannot. They also bring humor and intimacy to artists’ creations.

While the works of these three artists vary widely, they all share a theme. Each of them has a point of view about the world and animals, and they express it in their art. Look close at these three artists, their work, and their lives, and you will soon see how their advocacy is expressed–sometimes overtly, sometimes subtly.

Robin Eschner: Telling Stories

Some of Robin Eschner’s first "images" of dogs were noses–about 500 of them–catalogued for a "noseprint" project in which she mashed dogs’ noses into sticky black ink and made prints of them for IBM. All to prove, or disprove, the theory that dog noseprints are as unique as human fingerprints.

Today, Robin’s work is uniquely hers. Many of her paintings use dogs to tell a story Robin has to share. Some of these paintings tell stories about individuals, and some prompt the viewer to think about the world around them. "When I have something to say about the human condition, I often think of a dog as the figure to say that," she says. "When someone is looking at a painting, if they are looking at the dog and there is a question posed in the title, or a story being told, [the person] can...get to the human part of it, I think, more easily than if they are looking at a specific person."

Robin’s paintings often tell a story from her own life. In these personal expressions, the title may be telling the dog subject to do something that Robin is herself struggling to do: for example "No More Caffeine for You, Cindy Lou" or "Sally Heal, Sally Heal." This latter work depicts Sally, one of Robin’s dogs who she "used shamelessly" in her work the fourteen years they were together. In this painting, Sally is surrounded by various items–a leash, a skunk, various dog toys, Robin’s daughter Heather–that together express some of Robin’s feelings about her life as she recovered from a brain injury she suffered when she fell from a ladder. "I had all these responsibilities, things that I still had to do...and [at the same time] these were the things that made me better: having this daughter, and having to take care of this dog, when I needed taking care of."

Some of Robin’s work provides a connection to myth and the human spirit. "Rowena" was painted to illustrate a story by Barry Lopez, with whom Robin often collaborates. In the story, Rowena is one of a pack of dogs that leads a modern man of Washoe heritage on an underground journey during which he discovers his longing for the lost language and heritage of his ancestors. Dogs waiting for something or someone is a theme in many of Robin’s paintings. "Dogs have to wait for people constantly," she says, and her "Waiting for Humans" series includes dogs waiting for humans who are surfing; for wind (so they can go sailing), for calm in the midst of chaos, even waiting for humans to finish their laundry.

More recently this theme has evolved into a series called "Waiting for God." Robin often listens to National Public Radio while she paints and once found herself moved after hearing so many news stories about bombs, terrorism, and fear. "I began to think about all the stupid things that go on in the name of ‘This is my God so I am going to kill you.’" She uses dogs in these paintings to depict the paradox of asking questions about God, or focusing on "spiritual dwellings" such as a church, mosque, or synagogue, while being surrounded by nature. "Where is God in all of this? If you have any belief system about some god being a possibility...it’s pretty easy to imagine when you are around a dog, around animals, and in nature."

Robin has had canine companions, usually two at a time, since she was four years old when she received a black Labrador puppy for Christmas. Today her companions are Simon, a black Labrador Retriever who does not know how to retrieve, Hoagie (after Hoagie Carmichael), a Jack Russell-Labrador mix ("very clever–and funny"), and Thelonious (after Thelonious Monk), a cat. "I always have two dogs at a time," she says, "they teach each other the habits of the house." "Dogs provide that companionship and point of entry into a world of conversation that is difficult for many people," she says. Look at Robin’s paintings and discover that connection for yourself.

Mylette Welch: It’s a Dog’s World

As a child, Mylette Welch took the paint-by-numbers sets she was given and covered them in white shoe polish so she’d have a blank canvas on which to express herself. That bold attitude continues today in the bright colors and lots of texture in her paintings, which are of dogs (and a few cats) in human situations.

"I try to create a world for the dogs in my paintings...sometimes dreamlike and humorous, sometimes straightforward," Mylette says. Her paintings feature dogs in all sorts of environments: colorful vineyards and gardens, gas stations, diners, and ice cream shops, with antique trucks, and in humorous juxtaposition with fish or sock monkeys (one of Mylette’s other favorite subjects). Her style is colorful and the pieces tend to be big.

She called one series "The Psychic’s Dog." The paintings were based on Madame Rachel, a local clairvoyant. "I think dogs are really psychic: dogs know exactly what’s going on." Her two pugs, Toaster and Baby Knuckles, lay in the exact same spot in her studio that was occupied for many years by Gus, who died at age 14. For Mylette, "it’s like having a piece of [Gus] back." Mylette adopted Gus, the big golden Labrador you see in much of her work, from the Healdsburg shelter when he was six weeks old. Gus became ill as an old dog, and Mylette carried him up and down the stairs. When Gus died, people would ask how she could jump right into having more dogs. "How can you not?" she asks. "There’s just [a] hole in your heart." In another series, Mylette expressed her fascination of "what dogs do late at night on the loose." Jazz clubs, diners, hot dog stands–Mylette seems to know where the dogs hang out. She has also been taking her work into three dimensions, including some pug papier-mâché sculptures.

Lately, her creations have been getting even bigger. This year she is participating in "Cruisin’ the Boulevard," a fundraiser for the Petaluma Boys and Girls Club. Her contribution is "Hot Cars, Hot Dogs" featuring a nervous Toaster as passenger with Baby Knuckles at the wheel of a four foot long fiberglass classic car. "Hot Cars, Hot Dogs" and the creations of other artists will be on display in downtown Petaluma from June until August.

Mylette often donates her work to local shelters for their fundraising efforts. She believes that, aside from her direct contributions, "people connect with dogs" through her art. After seeing her work and discussing the need for good adoptive homes, some are often inspired to adopt from a shelter.

Mylette admits that in her art, "I let [dogs] do a lot of my talking." She also believes that dogs are a positive, healing influence on people. "The world is a pretty scary, sad place right now...we need these guys." She brings the pugs to a local nursing home and watches the people there light up. "You live longer if you have a dog: you’re happier, healthier." Mylette is a partner in Arches Gallery in Healdsburg, which is currently hosting a show of her work called "The Little Dog Laughed." The show is open until June 28th.

John Sumner: Dog Person, Cat World

If you like art that makes you smile but also touches your heart, think of John Sumner. His work reflects his own personality: colorful, playful, real, and a bit goofy. Mutts and purebred dogs dress to express some inner connection with a human counterpart–think bulldog with a tattoo and gold tooth–or a dog lies blissfully sleeping on the living room couch, exuding the joy of some canine dream.

"I like to imply that something is happening and let the viewer decide what it is," says John. His gallery, Slightly Off Square in Sonoma, was named to describe not only its location, but also his approach to life.

John and his wife Della work as a team. She operates the gallery, which features not only John’s own work but a variety of items that feature dogs and cats: a colorful array of fun and whimsical treasures. He does the art, and they travel to many art shows outside of California. This spring they traveled to Arizona, Texas, Oklahoma, and Minnesota.

Although John is a self-described dog person ("I relate to dogs more, because they are simple...and you can read them easily") he and Della have dedicated a lot of effort toward rescuing cats; they live with a large number of felines they found, or who found them. He includes both dogs and cats in his work, with many of the cats looking a bit crazy while the dogs seem a bit calmer, for the most part. John admits he "relates to cats differently...I can be a little looser with them". He says he feels he knows them a bit better because he is living with so many.

John’s dogs often appear on a brightly colored background as the centerpiece of the painting. They express their persona whether sleeping, playing, or just posing. Although many of his pieces are quite humorous–Picasso’s Dog, for example–others are simpler expressions of a dog’s soul, such as John’s rendition of Daisy, a dog he once had. Her eyes are big pools of longing. John and Della are passionate pet advocates. They not only donate art to causes they believe in, they have even begun taking a trap with them on the road to help in rescuing cats. Recently in Texas, they rescued a cat that was badly wounded, unable to fight for itself after being declawed and defanged. They cared for the cat, then drove it to a veterinarian in Oklahoma City who was willing to give it medical care.

John relishes those moments when he knows he is creating a piece that is special. "There’s a magic that happens...sometimes I want to paint realistically, and sometimes I just let it flow out."