Everyone!
You’re invited to the opening reception of
our duo exhibition at Fine Art Editions gallery.
Thursday, July 23 ~ 6:30 to 8pm
C O N V E R S A T I O N S
Dialogue in Pastel and Collage
with Julie Quick and John Andrew Dixon
Hockensmith’s Fine Art Editions
146 East Main Street
Georgetown, Kentucky
“Although I have tiny, weak wrists and painful thumb joints, the great blessing of my life has been my able hands, ever responsive to what in contrast has always seemed to be a limited and resistant creative vision, more prone to disappoint than my loyal dexterity.”
— journal, 1/12/25
It is fortunate indeed that one of the most extraordinary heritage sites in the Midwest happens to be located nearby — Shaker Village of Pleasant Hill. One would think that an artist fond of working outside might make art there often. I have not. The probable reason is that I did not consider my evolving skills up to the task — until recently. Or perhaps I should say that it was never about a facility with paper at all, but more to do with an apparent reluctance to interpreting landmark-worthy scenes.
I am getting past that stumbling block, thank goodness.
I began with the sheep enclosure. During my first visit, I sketched a workshop and dwelling on the east side of the settlement, too. When I returned to that same spot, I focused on completing the drystone-lined pen, but kept pasting paper on the other architectural composition now featured here. Documenting my time in its studio follow-up was not precise, so I describe East Village as a plein-air piece with hesitation, although it has the spirit of one for sure. My goal was to capture the dignity of the setting with a rustic effect. As part of the finished look, I preserved rough edges of a scrounged substrate. Your opinion would be of interest to me!
East Village
Mercer County, Kentucky
collage en plein air by J A Dixon
found paper, gel transfers, tissue, tea bags
on vintage notebook cover, 12.5 x 6 inches
“He was working at a pace he knew he could sustain until quitting time; he was hitting his lick. The difficulty had come to be balanced by his being equal to it. He seemed almost to be gliding, as if drawn on now not by will but by gravity.”
— Wendell Berry, ”A Friend of Mine” from That Distant Land
My collage painting sold at the “Paint the Town” reception on Saturday evening. No matter how much preparation I do, the annual plein-air challenge forces me to cut and paste faster than at any other time. This year I made a tiny preliminary study 
of my intended composition the previous day, and I think that helped me stay impressionistic enough to meet the speed constraint. My thanks to Kate Savage and all her Arts Connect board members who created another successful, celebratory event — plus the artwork buyer, too!
The resulting exhibition is on display at the Main Lexington Public Library until mid July. Visit the Arts Shop with this link to purchase other creations from the day — for as long as they last!
Aspect with Apse
St Peter Church, Lexington, Kentucky
collage en plein air by J A Dixon
on stretched canvas 10 x 10 inches
plus handcrafted wood frame
• S O L D
Dry Day on the Fork
Boyle County, Kentucky
collage en plein air by J A Dixon
scrounged paper, litter, gel transfers, tea bags, dried botanicals
on canvas panel, 10 x 8 inches
I’m pleased to announce that the Artists in Residence have been chosen by Kentucky’s Bernheim Arboretum and Research Forest and that I was one of nine Honorable Mentions out of 205 worldwide applications.
Even though I didn’t receive a residency for 2026, I’ve been asked to teach a class there in September. My one-day collage workshop will emphasize “painting in papers’” from nature. Congratulations to Marilee Salvator from Bowling Green and the other four selections!
Here are four of the collage landscapes included in my submission:
Isn’t there something about the “godfather
of merz” that transcends mere homage?
Good Ol’ Boy Dada, part 3
collage artifact by J A Dixon
scrounged paper, packaging, litter
on book cover, 10.25 x 8.375 inches
“The holistic quality of craft lies not only in engaging the whole person but also in harmonizing his understanding of himself in the world.”
— Peter Korn“Well I guess my advice would be: be patient. If you follow your gut and not the advertisements on the side of the bus, everything will turn out as nature intended.”
— Nick Offerman
Plenty of time on the east end of Shaker Village (during past outings) paid off in the studio recently. I decided to complete this one during the final week of my March Exertion. I intend to leave the rough, unfinished edges on this piece. When I was “painting in papers” on location, I could hear the sheep, but they never showed up in my view of their enclosure. Actually, I can still hear them (haha).
As the whole world is forced to swallow “large language models” that have run amok (which nobody really asked for), it is satisfying and gratitude inducing to make something authentic with my own hands at the historic setting of a culture revered for its artisanship.
At Pleasant Hill
Mercer County, Kentucky
collage en plein air by J A Dixon
found paper, gel transfers, tissue, tea bags
on vintage notebook cover, 12.5 x 6 inches
finished during my March Exertion, day 28
Asemicana
collage experiment by J A Dixon
7.5 x 10.875 inches
“Collage artists put things together to make something new, and often we are the ones who have taken apart discarded things to do it, but there is always a much larger phenomenon at work — one of discord vs harmony, mechanism vs intuition, wastefulness vs thrift, cynicism vs affection.”
— from July 29, 2016
My deep exploration of collage began over 20 years ago with a nonrepresentational approach rooted in the MERZ and DADA traditions, but my recent concentration has been in pictorial collage, which I call “painting in papers.” Many pioneers of modern art collage considered themselves painters, and I increasingly anchor my intuitive orientation with that awareness. This miniature landscape was created in the studio from imagination and memory — recollections of a grim sky, but the sun breaks through for a few seconds to illuminate the trees. This is among the seen images that stick with me. Increasingly, these are the experiences that make me want to paint.
The Kentucky farmer-philosopher Wendell Berry tells us, “Things that belong together have been taken apart. And you can’t put it all back together again. What you can do, is the only thing that you can do. You take two things that ought to be together and you put them together. Two things! Not all things.” It is his metaphor for the creative life, and a tremendously healing admonition to those of us with a tendency to become overwhelmed by the enormity of the world’s chaotic disintegration. When I return to the studio from a natural place, I am in a better condition to put things together, with the enduring hope for a modest artistic breakthrough. And then to leave. To go somewhere small in the world and to fix something that is broken.
Breakthrough
imaginary collage miniature by J A Dixon
6.75 x 4.875 inches
“No, God chose those who by human standards are fools to shame the wise; He chose those who by human standards are weak to shame the strong, those who by human standards are common and contemptible — indeed those who count for nothing — to reduce to nothing all those that do count for something, so that no human being might feel boastful before God.”
— 1 Corinthians, 1:27-29“In the end we shall all of us be only what we have made of God. For nothing is real save his grace.”
— Cormac McCarthy, The Crossing
This stagnant winter of bleak cold and rocky ice is taking its toll in skeletal breaks and frozen spirits. A mega-dose of sunset hues and autumn color seems in order. It might help see us through to an early thaw and the inevitable springtime. I shall do my part.
What is one to make of talent? We are all chosen in some way to magnify our individual gifts for the benefit of life, and to choose in return an apt recognition of due credit. If grace is humbly shared, does grace remain abundant? Perhaps that is the only question an artist need ponder.
Sassafras Shadows
collage landscape by J A Dixon
8 x 9.125 inches
“Yeah, I’m a loser at the top of my game.
I should’ve known to keep an eye on you.
Now I got a sky that ain’t never the same.
Yeah, I got a dream that don’t ever come true.”
— Tom Petty
During the closing months of my big traveling show, a notion kept intruding — perhaps I had peaked as a paper landscape artist. These kinds of pesky thoughts and feelings are not uncommon at any age. Why should they take me by surprise in the fourth
quarter of the game? Before long, I finished Haven on the Knob, and then the piece featured in this entry. That settled it.
The false point of my worry is demonstrably not the case, as far I need to be concerned. Others are entitled to their independent assessment. The first collage evolved as a multi-session, plein-air impression until I brought it inside for a lengthy finish. The second was time consuming, too — a studio-based commission from a provided photograph. Both benefit from everything I have learned about the potential of paper as a painting medium. Both combine intuitive abstraction and crafted precision for what I intend to be a pictorial representation that is full of lyrical expression. Please take a closer look at the development of It’s Heaven Back There:
As a collage artist, there is still plenty of ground in front of me to cultivate. There is no reason to believe that I cannot get better at using unconventional materials for a traditional genre of art. There is no reason to assume that I cannot apply my experience to portraiture and still life, or to bring it full circle to the legacy of non-pictorial collage, where my adventure with discarded stuff as art ingredients began. No reason for any of that concern. Unless I lose my focus about what a creative dynamic truly is.
People have told me my entire life that I had talent, as if that summed up everything. I was quick to accept and run with it, but, even in boyhood, something about it started to bother me, as if it was just the small part of a whole that remained hidden. Eventually it became clear that talent is simply the beginning — a gift, but also a profound responsibility. It’s not really worth much unless developed with education, discipline, ongoing effort, and perseverance. With that obligation comes the necessity of not only following a worthy impulse, but also conquering the doubts and fears that go with it. More importantly, it requires confronting the inherent pride that was seeded the very first time somebody said, “Oh, you’re so talented.” I don’t think it’s an inner process that ever goes away, and it can feel arduous from time to time.
For me, the challenge goes beyond unraveling what it is to be a creative individual, but what it means to be a soul called upon to put all the priorities of divine creation into alignment — to discover, by grace, the truth of my human nature, to understand the pitfalls along the journey that any recipient of talent is compelled to undertake, and to discern my intended role as a cooperative instrument of a greater purpose, as a grateful “agent” for the creative source of everything that was, is now, or ever shall be.
It’s Heaven Back There
Oldham County, Kentucky
collage landscape by J A Dixon
paper on canvas panel, 16 x 12 inches
private commission