Bozeman, Montana | Too dynamic for a still life
Written By Stephanie Simon
Los Angeles Times
My travels have taken me to many striking U.S. landscapes: the tangled marshes of South Carolina's barrier islands, the red-rock canyons of southwest Utah, a bare expanse of Nevada desert framed by a purple sunset. But nowhere have I had such a strong impulse to capture the scenery - to take it home with me - as I did on a recent trip to southern Montana.
As I drove to Bozeman, the sky opened up and seemed to unfold until the pale blue stretched forever. Farmland rolled out along the interstate, dotted at tidy intervals with round bales of hay. Knife-edged mountains to the north glowed under a fresh drape of snow; to the south, gentler hills rose and fell in shades of brown.
A thick cloud would cross the mountains, and the luminous scene would turn sharply foreboding. Another gust of wind would send lacy puffs drifting overhead, and the same land would look invitingly mysterious. I dreamed of finding a piece of art that would capture the way this landscape constantly changed, the wild sense of possibility it evoked. So when I got to Bozeman, I started browsing galleries.
An artful Main Street
Founded in 1864, the town's Main Street is lined with meticulously restored turn-of-the-last-century buildings. It's made for strolling - and shoppers and diners of every budget can find something to their liking.
There are college hangouts - an Internet cafe, a pizza joint - and high-concept restaurants such as the popular Plonk, which offers up pricey twists on traditional food, such as a crayfish waffle with key-lime rémoulade.
An Army-Navy store sells hunting and fishing gear; a few blocks down, a gourmet fish shop offers sushi-grade salmon. There's a toy store on Main Street and a cobbler who peddles handmade elk-skin boots for $240 a pair. And there are at least 10 galleries.
The galleries offer art of many mediums: oil and watercolor painting, pottery, etching, sculpture, photography. But wander in and out of several of the galleries in an afternoon, and the many offerings soon seem to blend together.
The theme of most works on display could best be described as heroic Old West: giant paintings of stampeding horses, leaping trout, log cabins covered in snow. American Indians, decked out in feathers. Cattle. Sunsets. And, of course, the rugged cowboy: taming a bucking bronco, leaning against a fence, squinting into the sun.
Much of this art, in the style of the late Charles M. Russell, is quite well done; some pieces command more than $10,000.
Tourists gravitate toward the cheaper versions of this Old West art, much of it produced by artists who live in the area at least part-time.
"They fall in love with the history, the landscape, the people, the culture, and they decide they would like to collect a piece of artwork that's reflective of the region," said Curtis Tierney. His East Main Street gallery, Tierney Fine Art, specializes in Western and "sporting" art, including meticulously detailed paintings of fly-fishing and bird-hunting scenes.
I could see the appeal. Problem was, none of it appealed to me.
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