11 Opening my 1990 sketchbook, I found the small Green River painting. I settled down and finished both paintings from memory. It is wonderfully appropriate that even after 33 years, my friend and stalwart travel- ling companion Bill who died in 2012, is still a part of this, my latest exhibition. With the pandemic in retreat, I was finally able to continue travelling to make work for the Green River show. Thus far it comprised paintings from the middle section of the river. Self-evidently, it needed works from its source in the Wind River Range in Wyoming and its confluence with the Colorado in Canyonlands, Utah. These were all accomplished in September/ October 2022 during a six-week period of intense work: two weeks making a major painting of Squaretop and Lower Green River Lake; two weeks in Canyonlands painting the river from a high overlook near Willow Flat; and 10 days canoeing and painting the 104 miles from Ruby Ranch to below the conflu- ence on the Colorado. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS None of the paintings in this exhibition could have been created without my friends. Some accompanied me with a specific purpose—David Schendel, Joe Pavlo, and Rachel Burton to make the film; Clarence Stillwell and Matt Leidecker to row rafts; and Gail Severn to observe my painting process. Karen McWhorter and her father, Chris Brooks, to check on progress, enjoy the backcountry, and do some fishing; Chris Mazzola, Sarah Brace and Karb Brace—friends of long standing—organised logistics and committed themselves to the project from the start. Erica Herfindahl, Sheryl Melum, and Robin Serrhan came just for the fun of it. All have a thirst for creative adventure—little did they realise that making art would involve freezing nights, scorching days, ferocious mosquitoes, a river journey of remorseless mud, campsites of almost impossible access, and a thunderstorm of Wagnerian sound and fury. These conditions are all grist to the mill of anyone who abandons the comforts of home to spend time in the backcountry. Add to that the necessity to make art and there are times when the burden could become overwhelming. Were it not for the cheery resourceful- ness of my travelling companions, and the warm and gracious hospitality of Bill and Annie Vanderbilt whenever I took a break from the rigours of living in a tent, there could have been no possibility of these paintings being made. Once the basis for an exhibition has been estab- lished and agreed, other supports and skills need to be put in place. In this I am exceptionally fortunate. Kristin Poole, Artistic Director for The Foster Museum, and Karen McWhorter worked together to organise the logistics, edit, and produce the catalogue, and stage the exhibition in Cody. Kristin then went on to organise the logistics of the tour to five splendid venues. In this she was supported by Anne Baxter and Eileen Howard, Co-Directors of The Foster Museum, and their excellent staff. The “Eminence Grise” of much of this activity is Jane Woodward, generous patron, friend, and a dynamo for creative thought. My friends sometimes question why, at over the age of 77, I continue to set out from my home in Tywardreath to erect my drawing board in yet another uncomfortable and unpredictable location. I’m not sure it’s a question I can answer, except that to pay attention to the nature of the world is what I believe I’m supposed to be doing. If by showing my paintings I can bring the extraordinary beauty, interconnected- ness and fragility of the planet we all inhabit to the attention of the public, then my efforts will not have been in vain. That said, leaving home is never easy. If it were not for the steadfast support of my friends in Cornwall; my assistant, Sally Cannon; and the love of my wife, Ann; it would be completely impossible. ABOVE Tony Foster, Upheaval Dome / A Hike to the Green River, 1990 (see p. 53) OVERLEAF Tony Foster, Steamboat Rock from 400' up a Cliff, 2018 (detail, p. 50)
