2024 Senior Art Show

Bear Creek Palettes

An Exhibition of Perspectives, Personality, and Passion

Gallery Picket Fence Art Studio, 14700 148th Ave NE, Woodinville

Exhibition March 6 – March 8, 2024

Details The exhibit is open Wednesday 3:00 p.m. – 6:00 p.m., Thursday 4:00 p.m. – 6:00 p.m., and Friday 10:00 a.m. – noon.

Artist Reception Friday, March 8, 2024, 6:00 p.m. – 7:30 p.m.

What do teens of today think about? What affects our youth so profoundly it alters the way they think, the lens they look through, and the art they create? Come and see the perspectives of six diverse personalities, each a passionate student-artist exploring his or her thoughts through visual form.

This combined exhibition by Advanced Studio Art students features the works of seniors Jacqueline Bai, Braelyn Baker, Lydia Christie, Avery Hallum, Evelyn Helzer, and Coen Yetter. Continue to see a sneak peek of the artists' work and read their statements.

Heritage

by Jacqueline Bai

I have almost no photographic evidence of my childhood. When I was little, I had a phobia of taking pictures—every time someone pulled out a camera, I would become so dreadfully embarrassed that I would hide behind my mother, shying away from the camera in some vain attempt to conceal myself. When all the other children would line up obediently and smile or pose like fashion models, I begrudgingly scrunched up my face in an exaggerated grimace to seem purposefully ugly. Hence, I do not have many photos of my childhood, but what I do have is my art. I have paintings of purple foxes, castles filled with fairy princesses, and countless eye sketches from my middle school emo phase. These account for my memories, the pictures, and moments in my life. It isn’t just nostalgia that fuels my love for old art projects, it is the memory of creating those projects: the hopes and passions and sheer determination I possessed in the process. The reasons behind each work that spark a memory and account for “photographic evidence” of my past, my heritage, my family.

A portrait. There is something so idyllic about painting a picture of someone you love and capturing their exact expression. From a knowing glint in the eye derived from years of wisdom to the wrinkles created by years of smiling, portraits transport the viewers into the person’s lives. Traditions are passed down by generations, and although they are sometimes lost throughout the years, this series attempts to revive whatever is possible. As we pass through the series, there lies a reoccurring poem: a poem about returning to a home that has been long abandoned. Cold chairs and empty cups are all that are left after a voyage overseas; an empty nest whose inhabitants have disappeared with time. I am afraid of becoming that voyager in this poem, returning to a home that has been emptied of memories—forgetting my traditions, forgetting my language, forgetting my family.

This series ends with the culmination of the past generations, the product of my mother and grandparents’ labor, sacrifices, and love: me. In a world obsessed with looking towards the future, it is important to remember to appreciate where we come from as well. I don’t want to waste the work that past generations put in and leave the memories floating in the air like smoke. Like the poem, memories may exist in fragments, but the important thing is that they remain present. I may not have a photograph to account for this, but I do have my art.

Cliff Walk at DALL-E-Ville

by Braelyn Baker

Going on a new adventure, not sure of what is to come, you get out of the car after a long journey atop a mountain. You stand within a field of tall grass that is matted down by the strong wind blowing the smell of a fresh grass field awhirl through your senses. You walk over to the edge of a cliff and can see the ocean as far out as the curve of the earth. The wind is blowing your hair, the hairs all over your body are on point from the cold nippy air, but nothing can take away from this moment in your soul. In the midst of realizing the grandeur of God’s creation and how small you are, you are humbled that somehow He chose you to be a part of His family. This moment can only be captured with our human senses and emotions, with your soul and feelings. This is the process in which impressionistic art captures the fullness of the body and soul of the moment. If we try to convey our memory to others, they may try to replicate the parts, but they lose its soul. We want results as easy as clicking a button, but it was not their own experience. The results turn into a Facade.

Is art the process or the results? This is not an original or new question, but with the rise of artificial intelligence (AI), we are now faced with answering it. 

C.S. Lewis determined, “War creates no absolutely new situation: it simply aggravates the permanent human situation so that we can no longer ignore it. Human life has always been lived on the edge of a precipice.” War itself may not be the change, but the reaction and recovery from war is where the change is truly implemented and demonstrated; not solely externally but first internally. If the individuals define a culture and the individuals change, culture changes. In the same manner, art creates no absolutely new concept. But rather, it is at the mercy of the artist. If the artist changes fundamentally, then the art is affected. In all this, art is left to be a reflection of the morals and subconscious of the individuals, and therefore culture, at a specific moment in time.

The war, in this case, is the emergence of artificial intelligence, in the form of DALL-E, an AI-driven image generation tool. We have had this question, but now, with the opportunity to have results without work, we are faced with answering it. Inspired by Monet and his fundamental change throughout his career that left quite a mark on the impressionist movement. Impressionism seems to be the essence of the process, so I picked one of his works, A Cliff Walk at Pourville. Monet's purpose evolved along with his style. He sought not just to depict the physical world but to convey the emotions and sensory experiences it evoked.

This case study starts with impressionism and a piece inspired by Claude Monet’s painting. The second scene depicts the same moment but rendered without experience, essentially, an interpretation of how artificial intelligence gives you half the picture, the results, but lacks the fullness of human touch and emotion. The third of the series, exposes the ‘Why’ of the emptiness to the second piece. It shows that impressionistic art will be lost forever in the hands of AI. The process in which art conveys emotions may no longer be needed for the end-product, but I believe it would be a fundamental loss to society if it were to lose its emotions and soul because of its the reliance on a button.

Ask for Help

by Lydia Christie

“Never be afraid to ask for help,” they said. “Just Do It,” my pair of Nike shorts told me. Everything is easier said than done, and I learned this the hard way; I’m sure we all have.

The irony of asking for help is that it feels dangerous. Perhaps this is because of the psychology behind vulnerability; asking for help often feels like admitting defeat, like a forfeit of independence. I deeply value personal growth, yet I aim to achieve such development by myself.  Saying "help me" incited humiliation and guilt because I fear being a burden to others. Perhaps this is why I sometimes chose to sulk alone when no one could see, because what is out of sight is out of mind. 

I realize avoidance does not hinder the problem, but rather, it makes the foundation of my person more brittle and dilapidated, creating subtle cracks in my health. The deeper these crevasses grow, the more they begin to fracture the mind. Suffering in silence does not keep the pieces together, it makes them fall apart. Although it is difficult and uncomfortable, I realize reaching out to a strong foundation can mend these cracks. 

Human nature as characterization of “The Fall” proves difficult to believe we are more than creatures meant to wallow in suffering. But vice is not all humanity is, for we are meant to be loved. Sometimes, this love is found in the refuge of another kind, beautiful soul. Taking someone’s hand is not weakness, it is courage to seek the truth. 

Connection may be the key to relight that spark in the eyes, to create a beautiful nebula of realization. Nothing is perfect, but something in my life looks a lot lighter than it was before.

Peace in Uncertainty

by Avery Hallum

Carefully moving up the stairs, you shudder hearing the floorboard creak under the weight of your feet. Uncertainty. Counting steps is comforting as you wander in the dark. As you reach the landing you feel relieved, but as you continue you hear another sound. Abruptly, you feel the rush of terror course through your body. Another sound, it is the same but much louder, closer. You walk on approaching the corner. Again, the sound, you recognize it, you are not alone. Peering around the corner you expect to see something awful. But when you look, you realize you were afraid of mere shadows. Nothing is there. 

As I have grown up and learned more about the world, I have learned there are a lot of things to fear. While experiencing this feeling occasionally is natural, it can easily turn into a vicious cycle if it is allowed to run. Whether it is small like a bump in the night or something much greater, fear can be a crippling emotion.  

I created this series to represent the dangers of fear if left unchecked, but also to give viewers a sense of hope. I chose to use a black and white color palette to create a somber tone and encourage introspection while viewing my work. I used silver leaf throughout to reflect the serenity gained when we bring our fears to God. While fears are somewhat unavoidable, Christ is with you through them. When we turn to Him, we immediately experience a sense of calm that washes over fear. While there are many ways to confront anxieties, from my experience I believe this is the best way to deal with them. No matter the scale of my fears through Him, I can find lasting peace in uncertainty.

Vessels of Beauty

by Evelyn Helzer

The phrase “beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” never sat right with me, as if the things we find beautiful are out of our control, as if we cannot be taught to find something beautiful if we are willing to learn to see. The question of what is beauty has a thousand answers, but none are really satisfactory. We simply know it when we see it, and the best thing to do when we discover this, is to share it. For instances, creatures that often are branded as gross, ugly, or scary – we might learn to see them as vessels of beauty.

I’ve loved bugs and insects my entire life. As a child, they were the first thing I found wonder in. Here were these intricately crafted creatures with vibrant shells, delicate wings, and magnificent lives right underneath every step I took. It was then I realized that the search for beauty could be fulfilled with a simple walk in my backyard. There were bugs on the playground, in our tent when we went camping, and in my grandmother’s abundant garden. They were everywhere and despite their small size, I appreciated them for the awe they brought to my life. How could something so tiny be so wonderful? The beauty of these insects littered my childhood and helped shape a person who wanted to see beauty everywhere and in everyone.

Of course, nothing is quite as simple or golden as our childhoods. The things you don’t know as a child, the things those older than you protect you from, must be learned. There is no way around it, some of that romanticism and idealism is lost as you gain years. Before you know it an era of your life is ended and things have happened that your childhood self could not have comprehended, good and bad. What was once effortless now requires intention. How do we learn to love life again like we once did? For me, it has always come back to remembering to appreciate the small things. These beetles represent how unexpectedly beautiful things can be. How, in the face of bad things, the bugs will keep being bugs just like God will keep being good. Exploring our capacity for wonder and ability to love even the smallest of things is what makes us human. It exercises our empathy and optimism. Beauty is everywhere, but we must first learn to see it.

Hidden History

by Coen Yetter

Over the summer, I had the amazing opportunity to visit many countries, historical buildings, and places in those different areas. I was captivated by the stories behind each structure and the artwork infused on the facade of each building and hung on their interior walls as an extension of their story and meaning. Seeing these intricate designs honored and preserved gave me even more admiration for their worth and structure. I also could not help but wonder how much artistry was lost through unkept homes and buildings of today, and how art and intricacy are not as prominent in newer buildings or homes. If it was as if history was hidden.

Through this series I strive to show how we should preserve history and continue to appreciate things from the past. I take you on the journey from my summer and share a slice of the glimpses I first saw of different buildings and structures that gave me a newfound awareness. Each structure has a story to tell. I found that the more I thought of history and the past, the more I thought about the present, which led me to think more deeply about life and the world around us. I am reminded that history is necessary for preserving heritage and culture, as well as creating an awareness for what we have done and how to grow to be better.

Without an appreciation for history and preserving it, we would lose that understanding of the world and ourselves. I have considered things from my past that can make me a better person. Without an understanding of who I was, I can’t set goals to be the person I aim to be. This knowledge of our history and culture is necessary for growth. 

During my travels I came to this realization and wanted to express this idea through my artwork using older homes and pieces of history nestled amongst a city, landscape, or cliff. These paintings show how we need to acknowledge the past to help us grow as people and I hope that the hidden history I discovered might shed light and impact my viewers as well.

About the Author

Trinity Osborn has been a member of Bear Creek's faculty since 2011 and feels blessed to be a daily part in encouraging her students to look at things from an artist's perspective. She challenges them to see things that others might overlook, to notice details that make something ordinary...extraordinary, and to gain the understanding of being true observers. Her prayer is that students would be inspired by the truth and beauty in the world which God has created and ultimately share that beauty through their artwork. She hopes that her students will remember their wonderful uniqueness and God-purposed creativity within, as they shape their lives accordingly for the service of His kingdom.

Mrs. Osborn enjoys traveling, sketching, and anything to do with the outdoors. Trinity is married and has two children. She holds a B.A. Studio Art and Photography from George Mason University Institute of the Arts and completed her NSIC Natural Scientific Illustration from University of Washington.