EPISODE 271 FOLK ART by my Uncle Frank FreemanREPEAT AS EPISODE 520
alan skeochMach 2021January 25, 2022
Last night, I thought of my uncle Frank Freeman specifically two of his folk art pieces
that he made in winter evenings in 1942 when his son Ted was about 6 years old.
Pieces made from whatever he could find in his little blacksmith shop on the farm.
So tonight, January 27, 2022, I thought I would like to make an Episode out of
those pieces of folk art. To my surprise I found Episode 271…the story had been
done a year ago. Do you remember?
Folk art is a theme I would like to expand upon. Why? Because we can all do folk art
if we want to…just thinking about a shape is a lot of fun. Perfection is not a goal.
Imagination is the goal.
REPEAT EPISODE 271
There is a deep desire in many probably most human beings to create somethingwith their own hands and minds. Some human beings follow the fine art traditionthat involves training…creating artistic objects in a sophisticated manner.Folk artists on the other hand do not worry about fine art, sophisticated art.Folk artists do not worry about fine lines. Often folk artists use items of everydaylife and do not particularly care about accuracy of line and shape. Nor do theyworry about critical comments. Utilitarian art in this instance…to be handled.My Uncle Frank Freeman created two early example of folk art that intriguedme. He seems to have made both piece in March 1942. And they are objects madeas toys for his six or seven year old son Ted. The objects are not madeto be submitted for comment by a jury of accomplished lovers of fine art.They are made to be used. They are made from scrap materials found here and there onthe farm. They are imaginative. Unique. Tangible. Unsophisticated. Joyful.Uncle Frank loved to talk to people. He was tall but not silent. Warm hearted. Certainly not wealthy in the monetary sensebut rich in other things particularly the natural world around him. He always had time for other people. He loved his very difficult farmcomposed of glacial till …rocks, boulders, sand and soil…piled up forming fields that slanted in such a way that little pockets retained pools of waterthat some call swamps. And all these pools drained into a big swamp in the centre of the farm. The farm owned by Lucindaand Frank Freeman would be 100 acres of headaches to most farmers. To Frank, his farm was a wonder of creation.How do I describe him best? I can do that with a short comment he made to me decades ago.“Alan, I love farming with horses rather than tractors. Do you want to know why?”“Why?”“A tractor never stops working. Now horses, on the other hand, must take a rest part waythrough a job. And when the team rest I get to rest and consider the world around me.”Another anecdote: One year Uncle Frank thought he was about to die from cancer. He was not…buthe did not know that. “Alan, I took my last walk around the farm today. Every trail, field, swamp and forest.Just to say good bye.” (These are my words but they accurately cover what he said to me.) He lived for manymore years. I expect he took that walk again.Made with these hands…for a reason. Made from things cast aside. Made to be touched and handled. Made to be useful, to entertain, to be;Am I running out of steam? Nope. Got lots of stories to come. The next one is taking a lot of time….trying to find the unfindable.
alan skeochFEb. 2021(Fifth Line, Erin Township, Wellington County)