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Landscapes and Laments is a show replete with contrasts. It is filled with majestic, serene, and beautiful subjects from nature and horrifically sobering subjects derived from and sadly definitive of the human condition. It consists of works in both two dimensions and three created with a variety of techniques and mediums. And it contains works which represent the artist’s newest stylistic and technical innovations along with some reminiscent of her early days as a painter.
 Parker’s woodcut landscapes are bold and forceful; they are prints composed of heavy, sometimes craggy lines which beautifully define their subjects and fully exploit the medium. In Coastal Cliffs, for example, the weight of the enormous stone mass and the jagged facets which shape it are perfectly contained in the thick, rough marks on the paper. In the series of Cherry Tree woodcuts, the individual lines are rounder and curlier; they both delineate and echo the contours of the formidable trunks and heavy branches of these venerable specimens.
Parker never presents a postcard view of her subjects from nature. Instead, she delivers a personal vision which focuses on the lines and shapes which define her subject’s essence while at the same time making us see the subject in a new way. Her cherry trees are all about age and dignity, not about the showy pink blossoms which usually steal the show. Her birches are about height, grace, and verticality, not about the peeling bark we played with as children. And all her trees, with their variously eerie and amusing figurative qualities, carry a suggestion of the carry a suggestion of the undefinable something that binds all living things together.
While she has shown an interest in the elements of landscape throughout her career, it is the woodblock and sculptural Laments that represent the social conscience that has imbued Parker’s most recent oeuvre. These are the works into which the artist has plainly poured her soul and her passion. Derived from harsh and difficult subject matter which is uncomfortable to confront and contemplate, these powerful images embed themselves in the viewer’s psyche and force reflection.
The prints depict a mother cradling her child who has fallen victim to the devastating effects of the unclean drinking water that plagues the developing world; an Iraq veteran flashing back to scenes too horrible to imagine; and the ravages which human beings perpetrate on the environment. Created with heavy, figurative woodblock prints superimposed over a series of more delicate Solarplate etchings, the images speak of persistent conditions in our world which most of us successfully ignore most of the time.
Which brings us to the sculpture, entitled Wall. Fabricated of plaster figures and wood panels, the work depicts two figures casually leaning against a wall, probably chatting, just passing the time of day in their comfortable little world. They are utterly oblivious to what’s happening on the other side of the w all, where a limp, bound figure dangles, apparently dead, seemingly from torture.
Message delivered. Not overly blunt, but not particularly subtle. We’re fiddling while Rome burns. We’re hanging out, living reasonably pleasant lives while on the other side of the wall, or the city, or the world things are very, very different. We’re not necessarily ignorant of it, but we’re able to ignore it because it doesn’t really touch us. But it does touch Parker and she seems to want us to stop and think about it. The work doesn’t carry a judgment, but makes a statement that will stay with the viewer for a long, long time.
Judy Pomeranz is an art critic and advisor in Washington, D.C.
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