Sarah Norsworthy
Bio/cv | | #sknmeep80

Meet me there when the moon turns blue: Solo Oct 10 — Nov 28
video of the exhibition︎
“Looking Outside” Sep 15—Nov 21, 2020 a group show at James Harris Gallery
June, 2019 at the Vashon Center for the Arts
Art on Paper N.Y.: March 7-10, 2019
Green Fuse: 
Solo exhibition Jan 3 - Feb 9, 2019
Closing reception February 9th 6-9pm Press release 
1 ROOM: August 2018, A special exhibition at The Avalara Hawk Tower during the Seattle Art Fair.
Thicket: March 9th-April 7th, 2018,  Brian Cypher, Rachel Maxi, Sarah Norsworthy, Tyler Keeton Robbins.

The genre of landscape painting is related to the invention of oil paint tubes. Portable, and ready-made for instant use, they allowed the artists (most notably, the French Impressionists), to work in plen air, away from their studios. This freedom to distance oneself from the confines of the four walls, to roam about and draw direct inspiration from the surrounding nature, has been making its appeal ever since, but perhaps never as strongly as in these days.

Sarah Norsworthy’s paintings and drawings express both this longing and her experience of being – with, in, and a part of – the Northwest landscape, so impressive in its coastal roughness, mountainous magnitude of the horizon, and the primordial lushness of the forest vegetation. This is the narrative of Norsworthy’s paintings; both personal and universal, they tell the story of her encounters with the deep presence of nature that envelopes the human figures on her canvases with its profound manifestation. Blending with nature’s here and now, man becomes liberated from the self, attaining the freedom to feel, rest, and be.

This possibility of being as one means a distancing from our manmade world to a place of renewal, recuperation and healing. The Dreaming Tree, with its resting figure, is a case in point. The very same tree appears in yet another painting, Spilling Out. A symbol of hope for a renewal, the dead trunk has sprouted a new tree on its top, as it has simultaneously spilled itself onto the ground to feed the new life. In other paintings, faces emerge in landscapes, while figures lodged in nature remain faceless, forming parts of their surroundings. Perpetuating her motif, Norsworthy’s thick brushstrokes bring attention to the medium of paint, affirming that both the natural and the human elements are made of the same material; as she thickens her paint with bees wax, nature penetrates her manmade oils, making a breach from the confines of her canvas, reaching out to join the alchemy of creation.

Ultimately, there is the metanarrative of painting as the means of immersing oneself in nature, visible in the self-referential Blue Shadow with Shell, where the shadow of the easel and brushes signposts the process.

Blue is present in abundance; in fact, Norsworthy’s paintings are saturated with the color, and it is the kind that appears on the rare sunny Northwest days (and on cloudless moonlit nights), marking out the horizons in the distance, reflecting in the waters of the Sound, seeping through the foliage of the seashore parks. Norsworthy refers to one of her favorite authors, Rebecca Solnit, who identifies blue as the color of longing and desire; of the distant horizons where one is not; and, most pointedly in these days, Norsworthy’s blue foregrounds her desire to breach the solitude of the confinement. Her invitation, Meet Me There When The Moon Turns Blue is a call for togetherness: join her to experience those rare moments of breaking through into the liberating space of nature’s presence.  
-Elena Deem