People Profile: Elizabeth Grater

This article was originally published in the Daily Post Athenian in Athens, Tennessee on July 14, 2017. The author was regretfully mistaken in her understanding of Mrs. Grater’s relationship to Fritz and regrets the error in this article. Fritz Grater was the son of the late Betty Grater.

If you've not been to Tennessee Wesleyan University's newly renovated Reece Hall (known to many as "the old Post Office Building"), go. And go by Aug. 10, when the current exhibition closes. Visiting is a treat in itself as the university and fine arts staff have preserved the historic architecture of the space and enhanced the building with furniture and materials clearly selected with an artist's eye.

Natural light shimmers through the tall front windows and warms the Muriel S. Mayfield Gallery. Visual Arts Department Head, Julie Jack, and art professor, Jerry Hagaman, have been good stewards of their gallery space curating the first two exhibitions with an eclectic mix of fine art from Mrs. Mayfield's children, who made significant contributions to the renovation, and pieces by her grandchildren.

The third exhibition in the space is a collection of personal favorites from one of the most accomplished artists in our area. Elizabeth Grater is a master painter, whom we are fortunate to call a "local." I can see Mrs. Grater's hand, now, waving me off at that word "master," but it's absolutely true. I've toured the retrospective three times now, and each time I'm increasingly awestruck by the brilliance of Mrs. Grater's work.

The second time, my mother and I were blessed with the opportunity for a private tour with the artist herself. Mrs. Grater was most gracious about the art department encouraging her to exhibit her work.

"Julie Jack was just wonderful," she said, and Jerry, who helped her frame several pieces for the show, "is the reason I'm here." Her sincere humility underscored our conversation; as we gushed over painting after painting, Mrs. Grater quietly repeated a refrain, "I'm honored to share my work."

There is much one could learn from Mrs. Betty Grater. She has studied under a variety of professional artists with outstanding resumes, and Mrs. Grater's own resume boasts an impressive list of gallery and museum showings, board tenures, and museum memberships. She was an instrumental voice in the founding of Athens's Community Artists League and has inspired many aspiring artists through classes and mentorship.

There is much one could learn from Mrs. Betty Grater. The simplicity of my main take-away from our conversation, therefore, was surprising: Keep a sketchbook.

As we stood in front of "Linens and Lace (Burano, Italy)," I remarked on the vitality of the linens that seem to dance in the wind right out of the frame, and my mother, a painter, asked Mrs. Grater about her process.

"I'm a great believer in drawing," Mrs. Grater counseled. "I have so many sketchbooks - closets full of them," and finished with a wry chuckle: "I feel sorry for my family."

Mrs. Grater appreciates the support of her family that has, from childhood, cultivated her love for the arts. Even now, her family encourages her craft.

"They are very accommodating," Mrs. Grater says of her family members who take artistic journeys with her. "They'll take me out to paint and be very patient with me as we drift sketch and dock sketch."

Nautical scenes are a common theme in the artist's oeuvre, which offers a hint to the driving force behind Mrs. Grater's work: Love. Many of the scenes in her paintings are children playing in and around the water, and boats drifting slightly off shore of the place affectionately referred to by the Grater Family as "the Island." The Grater family owns two small islands in upstate New York where they have gathered since her childhood.

"Follow the Leader" is my longtime favorite. I've always loved the painting because it features my childhood friend, Mrs. Grater's granddaughter, Katie, just as I remember her: Summer blonde hair adorning a youthful swagger.

The painting is perfectly understated and has just enough color and brushstrokes to breathe life into the scene. The "leader" is Mrs. Grater's husband, Bill, who, as she tells it, had taken advantage of a quiet moment, during which the grandchildren were otherwise occupied, to cast a line.

The painting shows what happened shortly thereafter from Mrs. Grater's point of view - perched, in my mind, somewhere on a rock, or a porch with her sketchbook in arm. Mr. Grater is glancing over his left shoulder at a parade of six grandchildren wading into the surf to see what he's up to. She didn't paint much detail in her husband's face; even still, his image radiates the gentle benevolence I remember so well. Katie's personality is there, too, proudly in the center of the painting, rendered in just a few colors and deft strokes of an expert hand.

The two painters and I shared a quiet moment in front of that painting until Mrs. Grater put a period on the silence as she uttered, "You have to really love the subject - that's the secret."

It is easy to feel a connection with Grater's work. Mrs. Grater's paintings resonate so deeply with the viewer because the love behind the scenes fills each work with life and story. You won't find many still lifes in Mrs. Grater's collection because, as she explains it, "I want to paint things I love, and those things are people, color, and places. If it means something to me, I believe it will have greater meaning to people."

Cherished subject matter is a key element of what makes Mrs. Grater's work so remarkable, and her skill is undeniable. I'll use my mother's words here, as she is a more qualified observer of art than I. Jan remarked that Mrs. Grater's work has "so much life and energy," resulting from a "keen ability to choose color and a skilled way of application that is incredibly admirable." In conclusion, my mother said what I was thinking but couldn't quite articulate: "You have a great ability to distill a subject down to its essence."

That ability must come, in part, from Mrs. Grater's sketchbook practice. One of her earliest teachers was her mother's cousin, Chapman, a New York artist whose work is in the American Museum of Natural History and the Smithsonian.

"Uncle Charlie" was an early encourager to Mrs. Grater, and she recounted seeing him years after her summer lessons. He asked if the young artist was still painting, to which she replied, "I just haven't been in the mood." That teenaged response elicited significant advice from her uncle: "You don't wait until you're in the mood," he said. "If you're a painter, you paint."

That may have been the beginning of her sketchbook studies, I suspect. Mrs. Grater has, in her own words, "been very blessed" to be able to travel the world and paint.

She's traveled North America, Europe, and the Mediterranean and studied under renowned artists like Charles Chapman and Gerald Brommer. And whether she is traveling for pleasure with friends, like her trip to British Columbia with Sally and Ralph Anderson, or traveling to paint with her dear friend and accomplished painter, Frances Graves, Mrs. Grater keeps a sketchbook and creates paintings (paintings from those trips are included in the exhibit). "I don't keep a diary," Mrs. Grater says, "but when I travel, I keep sketchbooks."

Working in a sketchbook forces a quiet concentration that helped Mrs. Grater develop her ability to capture the essence of her subjects.

Understanding the importance of practice and repetition, my mother supposed that Mrs. Grater must reflect for some time on her composition.

"Sure," she said, "I have an idea in my mind about how I want to do it, but mostly I just do it. I always say keep sketching and it becomes easier to put your ideas on paper."

Jane Hirshfield, a poet, writes about concentration in a collection of essays on poetry. She uses a Zen teaching about concentration where the practice is described as "effortless effort." When this level of concentration is achieved, Hirschfield asserts, there may be "some strong emotion present" but the self disappears, leaving only the feeling of joy, or even of grief, that was the wellspring of the original meditation.

Taking in "Knox Park," I recalled that Hirschfield passage. The painting is a quiet moment under a tree and depicts Mrs. Grater's beloved and gone-to-soon grandson, Fritz. He rests peacefully against the tree as a flock of ducks gather, eagerly awaiting a dropped crumb.

In actuality, the marks that shape the ducks are very few, and the paint used is minimal - but what the viewer sees is the essence of a duck. You don't see Fritz's eyes in the painting, but his spirit has such calm assuredness, it's almost as if his grandmother's arm is wrapped around him as she sketches his figure.

Looking at the painting, I certainly felt a warmth akin to my own grandmother's arm draping my shoulders. Here's what I've learned from Mrs. Betty Grater. Carry a sketchbook. Seek quiet. Capture detail. Study the things you love. Concentrate on telling your story of love - in whatever form you call your own.