There are times when your looking, searching, hunting for that piece that catches your breadth and suddenly, there it is, amidst a hundred other stacked paintings in a garage. It’s not even a painting by the owner who once inhabited the house. Yet, there you are - captivated by the sadness or is loneliness? haunting? Of three faces that perhaps represent past, present and future. Done in 1962 by a woman whose name seems to be Lily Kramer, or is it? The signature says Lily’s Kramer - but what does that mean?
I’ve looked up the name hoping to find a clue but nothing comes up yet the work itself is beautifully executed. Reminiscent of Oswaldo Guayasamín‘s work, an Ecuadorian painter. Did one influence the other? Spiritual siblings in the vortex of artistic saints streaming through the nether world?
It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I felt compelled to save it from obscurity. I don’t like leaving behind art that cries out… and so I don’t.
