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Victoria Scott . Victoria Scott’s woods are a domestic idyll: trees, tilting ground and a studio clinging like a birdhouse to a sleep slope, another layer the soft curves of the western Catskills. Scattered about are more or less permanent easels; brightly painted perches. She works ceaselessly outdoors and indoors by a single window in the coldest weather. Her studio is lit by a string of white Christmas bulbs. Her work ranges beyond the idyll into symbolism, though the woodland paintings – in the hundreds – suggest a near psychedelic quest to see and feel every possible arrangement of changing light and pattern. Pinks, blues, green and grey are forever shifting shapes. Paraphrasing Peter Schjeldahl of another original, “she keeps her own counsel”. And that’s a good thing.

Victoria Scott

Victoria Scott . Victoria Scott’s woods are a domestic idyll: trees, tilting ground and a studio clinging like a birdhouse to a sleep slope, another layer the soft curves of the western Catskills. Scattered about are more or less permanent easels; brightly painted perches. She works ceaselessly outdoors and indoors by a single window in the coldest weather. Her studio is lit by a string of white Christmas bulbs. Her work ranges beyond the idyll into symbolism, though the woodland paintings – in the hundreds – suggest a near psychedelic quest to see and feel every possible arrangement of changing light and pattern. Pinks, blues, green and grey are forever shifting shapes. Paraphrasing Peter Schjeldahl of another original, “she keeps her own counsel”. And that’s a good thing.

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