Lost to art

Although Ann Cory’s style is different than her son’s, she too plays with light and color in her paintings. A black and white photo of Jed Dorsey as a boy hangs in his parents’ home, full of clues, really.

Jed sits in the grass at the feet of his young father, artist Jack Dorsey, who is painting at a small table in the family’s backyard. Dorsey’s right hand holds the long handle of a watercolor brush; his left rests on his hip, elbow cocked, back straight, balancing the composition of his future as an artist.

A small tree twists into the background, just out of focus.

The clues are on the ground, where Jed sits without a table or a chair. He has a paper spread across the ground and his own little paints. He sits with his legs tucked under himself and his back as straight as a little boy’s is likely to get. His right hand holds a brush; his left rests at his belt, elbow cocked, balancing the mirror of his father.

Jed Dorsey became fascinated with painting, and specifically with acrylics, after seeing the works of Mike Svob and Robert Genn at a gallery in Whistler. The men’s work, Jed said, blew his mind. Ten years later Jed, now 17, was in high school. Over the years he had dabbled here and there in watercolors, like his parents. He played sports, he was busy becoming a young man, and then he discovered guitar. He followed music — went to college, joined a band, married. Then came a 25th birthday and a vacation to Vancouver, B.C.

Back home, in the shadow of that black and white photo, Ann Cory, Jed’s mother, said, “We thought we’d lost Jed to art.”

His parents were OK with that. They didn’t necessarily expect Jed to share their passion, and if he was happy, they were, too.

The Dorseys, from right: Jed, his father Jack Dorsey, his mother Ann Cory, and his wife Renae. Then, in Vancouver, Jed visited a gallery in Whistler.

“I saw two artists, working with oil paints, who blew my mind,” he said. “I went to the gallery every day for a week.”

It was the gallery owner who recognized the issues oil paints present for new artists —drying time, workspace and solvents — and suggested acrylics as an alternative. Acrylics are more user-friendly than oils while achieving similar effects.

“That week,” Jed said, “in Whistler, I went to a little art shop, bought acrylics and started that chapter (of my life).”

“Chapter” might be an understatement — Jed fairly took off.

Those two artists who blew his mind were Canadian painters Mike Svob and Robert Genn, and they showed up again in a book Jed’s mom gave him for Christmas. In the back of the book was contact information.

Jed, now 33, has taken workshops from both men, as well as from Ovanes Berberian, a Russian Armenianborn artist Jed admires for his “boldness and courage” in making large, decisive brush strokes, and for “knowing when to stop making those same brush strokes.”

All three painters have influenced Jed’s self-described minimalist style.

“I look at the essentials and paint the essence of the scene, allowing the viewers’ imaginations to fill in the details,” Jed said.

He also “allows the beauty of sunlight to flow through the painting,” a handling of light reflected in his mentors’ work.

“What draws me in is the lighting,” Jed said.

It’s why he paints so many morning and evening scenes — the splashing colors, slashing shadows and dancing light of a slanted sun.

Maybe somewhere deep down in a twisted double-helix, Jed got his fascination with light from his mother, who “always loved light.”

It’s hard to say. One thing is certain: Ann Cory is an artist too, and from a line of artists.

Cory’s grandmother, the late Fanny Y. Cory, was a famous illustrator in addition to drawing for syndicated comic strips. Cory’s mother painted as well.

As for Cory, she took an early sketching course at the University of Washington, which, she said, intimidated her. But then she met and married Jack Dorsey.

“Jack made everything look so easy with watercolors,” Cory said. “I thought, ‘I can do this.’”

She did it, painting pieces on commission and even winning a $50 prize at the Edmonds Art Festival, a feat she treasures.

“I get in (the festival) now, but I’ve never won another prize,” Cory said.

By now the year was 1969, the couple was living on Camano Island, and their life was changing with the addition of children.

“This is the truth,” Cory said. “Basically, when we had our third child, Jed, I didn’t have any more time.”

Dorsey took a job at Boeing to support the young family, and Cory put down her paintbrush for the next 25 years.

On a June day five years ago, Jed was visiting his parents, standing on the deck of the home he grew up in. Before him rested an easel, and in his right hand, a paintbrush. Someone observing would have noticed the tree, twisting into the background.

By then, his parents knew Jed was no longer “lost to art.” He had gotten quite excited about acrylics, and was feeling spontaneous.

He turned, and called through the sliding glass door, “Mom, do you want to paint today?”

Cory painted with her son that day, and she hasn’t stopped since.

“It’s ironic,” she said, “that he’s the one who got me back into art.”

Jed maintains his mom is an amazing artist and always had it in her.

“There’s always a bit of fear, and you need some encouragement,” he said. “Acrylics were a new medium she hadn’t explored yet, and maybe that took away some of the fear. You never expect something new to be perfect.”

Cory agreed that acrylics are a good fit for her, and a forgivable medium. Now, she paints nearly every day when she takes care of her mother in Stanwood.

“You’re so busy the rest of your life,” she said, “but I have to be there, and at some point we’re done (with the chores). Then, I paint.”

Cory’s work, inspired by her family and community, was selected for the this year’s Snow Goose and Birding Festival and 2009 Mother’s Day Art Tour posters, but Cory said “my big goal is, just one time, for Jack to be known as Ann Cory’s husband.”

As Cory’s work has evolved, she’s found herself pursuing some of the same qualities as Jed, albeit in a very different style.

“My whole life, I’ve been a great fan of the French line, or the lost line, in art,” she said. “You don’t do the whole thing; you let the viewer take part in it.”

Like Jed, Cory also plays with color.

“There’s one thing Jed said that day (I first painted again) that I’ll never forget,” she explained. “He said, ‘Mom, why don’t you make it a pretty color?’”

And why not?

“There’s something in the process I really enjoy,” Jed said. “Each painting is like a person: It has its own unique characteristics and character flaws, and you have to find solutions to the problems you created. So, I take color, canvas and a brush, and I start moving things around.”

As his wife and son push paint across the canvas of possibility, Jack Dorsey knows exactly what they’re trying to find.

“When a painting brings you a sense of refreshment every time you look at it, that’s a good piece of art,” he said. He sits to join them, each one knowing that “quality is personal and intuitive,” but also that there is grand satisfaction in “somebody else connecting to (your work) and getting something out of it.”

All three of them, it seems, have been lost to art.

Jed Dorsey and Ann Cory’s works are currently on display at Islander’s Restaurant at Terry’s Corner, on Camano Island. The 12-piece collection will run through the end of April. The Dorsey home is scheduled as part of the 12th Annual Mother’s Day Art Tour, which is May 7-9 and 14-16.

For more information, visit Ann Cory at www. anncoryart.com; Jed Dorsey at www.jeddorsey.com; and Jack Dorsey at www.jackdorseyart. com.