Marsh Musings

There's a little saying here in the Charleston art community that we have no shortage of marsh paintings. That's not to cut down the people who paint, photograph, or otherwise interpret the marsh, because it is the perfect natural subject -- changing, moving, catching the light, yet somehow separate of time.

And there's no doubt there's a market for "marsh paintings" here, just like there's a market for fall tree paintings in Highlands, N.C. or desert paintings in New Mexico. And they are as varied as the marsh itself and the artists who create them. Take for example this painting by Lese Corrigan:

Lese Corrigan "Mid -- River II: Stono River I (Main Road) NW"
oil on canvas 35" x 70" 

Or this one by Jan Sasser:

Spring Morning on the Marsh
Oil on Canvas, Marsh entering John's Island near Charleston
14"H x 18"W

Both of these are beautiful depictions of the marsh (or in Corrigan's case, the river first and the marsh beyond), but they provide what most marsh depictions have in common -- a slightly elevated view of the landscape. You must have this in order to paint the main feature, which is the winding water.

The land is exceptionally flat.

Artistically interpreting the marsh is very different from experiencing the marsh, which my sister and I did this weekend, from one of my favorite Lowcountry perches: a swing at James Island County Park. A late morning breeze was kicking up, and as we sat on the edge of the grass, we could see nothing but grass between us and the shore beyond. Birds swooped on the breeze, and the sound was quiet (except for us slapping at mosquitoes and calling down my dogs who would not sit still).

The only indication of where the water was was a sailboat mast passing by. We couldn't see the boat or hear the boat, just witness a phantom mast passing between lanes of late summer grass, grown tall with rain, the tide and humidity.