Art Chowder November | December 2017, Issue 12 | Page 41

artist nan drye:
I have a lot of wonderful memories of Dian, but these two mean the most. The first con-
cerns a delicate woven basket she made of sea kelp. Over the years I have added items to
it (the paper fortune is mine; what a wonderful place to keep it), but the tangled organic
structure is all hers. I bought the basket from Avenue West Gallery when they were down
on First. Weeks later she and I ran into each other and she seemed so excited that I had
bought it; she was “tickled pink,” as my Grandma used to say.
She talked of the day she made it, “Seaweed must be woven while still wet, so you can imagine what it smelled like!” She added
lots of little bits and pieces off the beach, declared it done and let it dry. I think she thought that it was such a small, personal
work that no one would care. But that night, when I first set eyes on it, I surely cared. For somebody born in Iowa, I knew the
seashore was my real home from the minute I saw the ocean. This little basket seemed so precious to me that there was no way I
was leaving it in the gallery.
The other memory I cherish is from a
time when I was coordinating “Raw
Space” for the Art Commission. It was
a community art exhibit; anybody could
place three pieces of work in it for ten
dollars and a couple of hours of volun-
teer labor. Dian almost always partici-
pated; she was someone I could count on
to help keep it all together.
“Raw Space” always had a big crowd
on the First Friday in February but the
rest of the weekend was quieter. The par-
ticipating artists volunteered as docents.
One year I had to run out for lunch, so
I put a reliable volunteer in charge and
said I would be right back. Downtown
was not the way it is now. Turns out, I
“ran” for several blocks before finding
anything open on a Saturday after-
noon—I was in a panic by the time I
got back to the exhibition, as I knew the
volunteer needed to get to work soon.
Well, no worries. There sat Dian, encir-
cled by the next round of docents, most-
ly twenty-something folks, exhibiting
from the local college art departments.
She had liberated the temporary docent,
checked in the next round of helpers
and was keeping everybody entertained.
They were all laughing and having a great time with this charismatic woman several
generations older, whom they most likely had never before met. I think Dian got as
big a kick out of them as they did of her. She made wonderful art and contributed so
much to her community. I am so sad she is gone; I wish her well in whatever comes
next.
November | December 2017
41