Eighteen months ago, artist Logan Kirkpatrick was invited to exhibit her work at Cooley Dickinson Hospital. Little did she know at the time, though, that she’d soon end up a patient at the Northampton facility for her chronic illnesses, bringing what she described as “an unexpected and deeply personal connection between the work and the place where it is being shown.”
Kirkpatrick, who lives in Westhampton and creates work at her Easthampton studio, is currently presenting: “Still, Here: As the Water Shifts,” an exhibition of a dozen of her paintings, at the hospital’s West Gallery. The show is on display through Thursday, April 30.
Kirkpatrick’s canvases capture serene waterscapes inspired by her childhood growing up on a lake in western Massachusetts. As a permanent resident in a seasonal community, she cherished the quiet of the off-season, when the departure of neighbors allowed her to engage with the natural world in total privacy.
“I’ve always appreciated being alone,” Kirkpatrick said.
In her paintings, buildings overlook harbors and waterfronts that sometimes feature resting boats. There are no human figures in the works — no silhouettes inside apartments, no sailors captaining the boats — and that was entirely deliberate. To Kirkpatrick, boats are a metaphor for presence and absence.
“Once I became ill, I was bedridden for years. I couldn’t work a job. Life moved on before my eyes, and my life really stopped as the rest of the world moved on,” Kirkpatrick said. During those years, she spent most of her time alone. However, she notes that there is a difference between being alone and being lonely.
“I like to think of alone-ness as you’re on your couch. You’re able to watch whatever you want to watch. You’re able to eat whatever you want to eat. You’re happy. Your friend called. They canceled plans. You’re thrilled. Now you can just sit at home and you’re alone,” she said. “Loneliness is when no one ever calls.”
In the painting “Rumination II,” a solitary boat floats across a vivid blue body of water, contrasted by the muted yellow and salmon tones of the villas overlooking the shore. That work represents “the experience of revisiting the same thoughts or challenges while still making progress beneath the surface,” according to a press release. “The painting acknowledges that healing is often slow and repetitive, yet meaningful movement can still occur,” the statement continues. “It invites viewers to consider how perspective can change over time, even when circumstances feel familiar.”
The painting, “Serenity,” features a single boat anchored off to the side in a palette of greys and browns, Kirkpatrick said were inspired by “the calm that can come from acceptance and presence” and “steadiness rather than stagnation, offering a visual reminder that peace can exist within pause.”
In “Blush,” Kirkpatrick’s personal favorite from the collection, four boats drift near one another against a backdrop of pale blue buildings and a peach-colored sky. To the artist, the piece represents her journey toward trusting others again after years of concealing the realities of her chronic illness.
“I thought that my illness was too much,” she said. “That painting is a return back to being open and trying to feel aligned with where I was at currently, instead of wearing the mask.”
Kirkpatrick lives with a complex set of conditions, including Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyneuropathy, Mast Cell Activation Syndrome and chronic Lyme disease. Together, they cause debilitating fatigue, nerve pain and weakness. Though she was finally diagnosed in 2017 after years of searching for answers, “it still took many years before I could really have any sort of normal life,” she said.
“There were many days that I would have to ask myself, ‘Can I shower today, or do I need to go to the grocery store today?’ Because I can’t do both.” Living with chronic illness, she said, “has definitely pulled me up [by] my bootstraps and taught me resilience in a way that I didn’t even know I had the strength for.”
Before moving back to the Valley, Kirkpatrick lived in New York City for 10 years. Even after she’d moved back, though, she said she was still living “in limbo,” having to travel back to New York City every four weeks to receive IVIG (intravenous immunoglobulin) treatment.
Yet a month and a half after she’d been in touch with Rhea Banker, curator of the hospital’s Art and Healing Program — which enhances patient wellness and the hospital environment by showcasing local in galleries, including the North, West and Atwood Galleries — she was able to get insurance approval for her treatment to be transferred to Cooley Dickinson.
“Within a very short period of time, it felt like this full-circle type of moment, making the hospital a focal point in my personal and career life that it had not been prior,” she said. “Knowing I’m going to be showing in the same hospital that is treating me, it’s created this deep connection for me.”
Besides that, Kirkpatrick appreciates that the hospital has art galleries anyway. “In a medical environment, there is an immense amount of stress for everybody involved, whether it is the workers or the patients,” she said. “I believe this program is a really good thing to draw people’s minds away from the situation they are dealing with. Even if it is for a brief moment, I think it is a reminder that there is a whole big world out there, even if whatever you are dealing with in this place does not feel so pleasant.”
Kirkpatrick hopes her show gives its viewers “a moment of pause” and “a reminder to keep going.” Even though it might not always feel that way, she said, “There is so much life at the end of a diagnosis.”
West Gallery is open from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. daily. A portion of the sales from this exhibition will be donated to the Cooley Dickinson Hospital.
For more information about Logan Kirkpatrick, visit logankirkpatrickart.com.
