Today we’d like to introduce you to Mary Hrbacek
Hi Mary, so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?
maryhrbacek.canvasrebel.com
My Story
I want to begin my story by saying that I have lived a tumultuous life. I am half Swedish and half Irish. My parents had opposite views on just about everything which made it a hard time discovering my authentic identity. I was born in Alexandria, Virginia where my art career began when I was five years old, in pre-school; fingerprinting was not in the curriculum! We were taught to paint with brushes standing at easels, on large scale sheets of newsprint. (As time progressed, I eventually moved to New York City after working for seven years teaching handicapped kids. I wanted especially to study drawing as I felt this skill would empower me in any subject I chose to focus on.) At this time, my father worked at the Department of State in Washington D.C.. One day he came home with the news that he had been recruited into the Foreign Service, which meant moving the family to a foreign country. He had no choice, as if he didn’t accept the offer he would lose his job! Our family of four minor children was moving to Stockholm, Sweden. Hearing the news, my mother went into hysterics, since Sweden is not a Catholic country; it is considered a missionary country. Luckily she made friends with some French nuns who helped her to make the adjustment. That Fall, the family steamed out of New York harbor for a seven day journey in the North Atlantic, on the Scandinavian liner Kungsholm in first class, bound for Gothenburg! The Captain’s Dinner was decorated with magnificent swan ice sculptures. So exciting for children to experience this grandeur! We saw whales swimming in the North Atlantic and there was a cold saltwater pool below decks. We traveled by train the entire width of Sweden to get to Stockholm. On arrival we moved into an apartment near Valhalla Vagen, a short distance from the American Embassy. I got my first job at age ten walking two gorgeous Afghan hounds in the massive field across the street called Djurgarden, filled with high golden grasses. One day at the play area behind our building some boys attacked my six year old brother. I tried to stop them but one boy pulled my hair back to put a knife to my throat! Luckily a teenage girl pushed him away. I never told my parents because I thought they would be upset! After a few months we moved out of town to Djursholm, into a beautiful villa on Slottsvagen, that featured a castle at the end of the street. My father thought the house was too big, but he rented it at government expense so not too costly. It was located five minutes from the Baltic Sea. We all loved the house. It had five bedrooms, a den, a maids room and a beautiful terrace in back where rabbits came to snack in the winter snow. The Vice President of British Petroleum lived in a mansion with his family across the street. Their house was more like a country club than a residence! Their family was friendly to our family. The Embassy Community was close knit. I was studying at an English International school but when I was thirteen I had to transfer to the Swedish School, Dursholms Samskolan, now called Victor Rydberg Samskola, as there were no English speaking schools available for my age bracket. One of my friends was Lilianne Wennerstrom, daughter of Stig Wennerstrom, who was later exposed as a Swedish double agent. We learned what he had done when we were back in Virginia! So shocking! Our family made road trips through Europe traveling by car to Denmark, France, Belgium, Germany, Holland and Italy. On one trip when I was twelve we drove to Genoa, Italy to take another ocean liner, The USS Constitution, back to the States for Home Leave. We returned to Sweden for three more years until I was fifteen. We had many adventures ice skating and cross-country skiing on the Baltic Sea. I never got over leaving Sweden. When we returned to the States my father found an abandoned house in West Glover, Vermont to fix up for a “Stuga,” a summer home like those Swedes have without electricity, but ours now has facilities. Swedes like to spend time alone on their own islands in the Archipelago. I visited my friend at her parents place once, for which I had to get a security clearance as it was located near a military installation! We got up at 4 am and went “skinny dipping” in the freezing Baltic Sea! Once Dad had the Vermont house, he spent all his free time and energy fixing it up.
Now I spend summers in this restored hundred year old farm house in West Glover with my artist studio and an unfinished loft for work. There are thirteen birch trees in the front yard; we have a wetland in the back and a woods on the side of the house. The neighboring farmer raises cattle in the fields near the house, which was once in a secluded area that is slowly growing and developing. Sadly, our parents never talked to us so we had to manage without parental support. When I was much younger before we relocated to a foreign culture, my mother went into hysterics when I asked her for help with a problem at elementary school. After that, I navigated life on my own. When my sister went to college she eventually had a nervous breakdown, due to all the moving and changes of schools. My sister was a cheerleader at Falls Church High School, who wanted to be in a special sorority but she was rejected. Because of all the stress, she had to have electro-shock treatment in Sweden. We had to come back to the States soon after, for her therapy. After five years of psychotherapy she recovered, lived in a group home and attended the International School of Interior Design in Georgetown. She met a guy at a Catholic Youth group and got married. I was so glad her life turned around. I went to Falls Church High School too, where I was accepted, given the honor of being selected as “Best Dressed,” and had my picture printed in the school paper. I wore white lipstick, tons of eye liner and mascara, teased my hair, and sewed my own clothes. The sorority that rejected my sister wanted me to join. When I told my father, he realized she had been hurt by being excluded; he behaved as if my popularity was somehow wrong. I think subconsciously to earn his love, I became some kind of an outsider. Bad move because it didn’t work! We moved from our tiny starter home in Virginia into a split foyer where my basement room was separated by a rubber door from the TV room. The noise was deafening so I couldn’t study, which meant I got poor grades. I was too afraid to ask to get my need for quiet met. No one noticed that I needed to be concerned about my future since it was my senior year in High School. My father wanted to live near a free public golf course so we moved again, out of my second High School district. In the third new high school I was not accepted; I was shunned for three years. The kids there had grown up together in an exclusive tight clique. They were a very privileged in-crowd so not used to challenge. I think I figured out why I was not accepted; during the Powder Puff football game, I ran a surprising spectacular fifty-eight yard touchdown. After that no one passed me the ball. Even my father said “they are playing it cozy.” I never imagined something like this could gain me such dislike, but I think it did. I had to make other friends from other schools. Not sure how I managed it but my boyfriend was captain of the football team at Mclean High School and president of his fraternity!
We met at a dance in a neighborhood center and we are still friends. There is so much more, but I will spare you the details. I enjoyed my liberal arts studies at a Catholic women’s college in Maryland. To experience a social life I transferred my philosophy and theology credits to University of Dayton. During this time, my father was reassigned to a post in the American Embassy in Seoul, South Korea. While they were away, my mother sent me five dollars a week to spend! Eventually I was able to travel to San Francisco, Honolulu, and Tokyo on my way to Seoul for the summer. The family lived in a beautiful glass house in the former Japanese compound, where we had six servants. Providing jobs was encouraged to help the local people. I was in danger of becoming spoiled as the laundress not only washed but ironed my shoelaces. I got a job typing for the Army while I was in Korea. Later I heard there are seventeen palaces in Seoul, but I never heard a word about any of them. I returned to Dayton to finish college. The fraternity and sorority set there rejected the transfer students, so we lost out on any parties that were happening at the school. I studied political science, history and secondary education. Post grad there was no chance of getting a job in my field. There was one opening in history at my High School with five hundred applicants. Instead, my mother got me a job teaching the handicapped but I had to earn a Virginia Teaching License and a Virginia Certificate for this position. It took six years of night school and weekend courses but I eventually got it. When I found time, I spent my weekends at the National Gallery of Art in D.C.. As soon as I finished the courses, I signed for an art class at Northern Virginia Community College. I found I enjoyed painting murals with the students so this move made sense. I wanted especially to study drawing as I felt this skill would empower me in any subject I chose to focus on. I met my dream guy (I thought) at the art class; I believe he was part of my destiny. He was a super well educated privileged bohemian who taught yoga asanas in class; he went to Columbia University, Harvard University, Boston Museum School of Fine Arts and the New York Studio School, an offshoot of Pratt University located in Greenwich Village. Even though our relationship didn’t last, as he liked to be alone a lot to paint, he played a pivotal role in my life. He wanted to have children, but he also wanted to leave the area by himself to go out West to paint in the National Parks; I was not included in the program! My move to New York profoundly changed my life. I was only a beginning art student but because he encouraged me to attend art school I developed a portfolio and was accepted! I studied drawing, painting and sculpture. It was an intense experience in a very competitive environment. Of course I had a lot to learn, especially about the verbal language of art. Still I consistently received positive critiques in the bi-annual series until I was ultimately rejected, when I showed one abstract painting I was struggling with, which should have been kept out of the critique. My teacher said it was a “work horse!” painting, so I thought it was alright to show it. It seemed like a “set-up” because I never got a bad critique. I wasn’t told this critique would determine my future standing/brand in the Art World for life as “not talented.” This “brand” has been circulated about me and is totally untrue. I was shocked to discover I was judged and rejected from their huge network after only two years of art study! I want to mention, in 1979 there was a contentious political meeting at the art school including faculty Board of Trustees, students, and Board of Governors. I was the secretary on the Board of Governors so I was responsible for writing the minutes of the meeting. I recorded the proceeds to help me to write up the minutes of the meeting. Then I discarded the tape. To those who found something inappropriate or threatening about this tape, rest assured that it has been tossed out decades ago, just after I completed the minutes of the meeting. I was at one point labeled a “Fauvist” as no one would bother to teach me how to desaturate my colors, simply by mixing in complements or by adding some black to tone down the hues. I had to teach myself, until I was able to study painting technique with NY Academy MFA’s who came to my Harlem studio twenty years ago. Someone who receives an award of “Juror’s Choice” from Ann Philbin, then Director of The Drawing Center of New York is by definition not “untalented.” maryhrbacek.com, @maryhrbacek_trees After art school I went back to teach again at the Manhattan Center for Handicapped Children. I taught for another seven years; I needed a Master’s Degree in Education for the job. It took four years of Graduate School once again attending nights, weekends and holidays. I did artwork when I could find time.
Meanwhile I met my husband in a hiking club,The Appalachian Mountain Club. Our first date was a ten mile hike! Some time after we got married, due to the politics of the NY Board of Education, I took a sabbatical leave and never returned to teaching. I discovered I could handle the solitude of being a full-time painter. My husband is a Czech mathematician who came to the US just after the Russians moved into Prague to smash the freedom movement, The Prague Spring. He had a grant to do post-graduate studies in mathematics at Berkley, CA. Then he got a job teaching at The City College of New York. We live in Manhattan where I maintain a studio in East Harlem. We have traveled to Morocco, and Egypt, London, Paris and Rome, St. Petersburg, Moscow, Portugal and Barcelona, Spain. We did road trips in England, in Scotland and in Ireland. We visited China, Iceland, and Norway, Austria, Greece and Canada. We did several road trips in France and Italy and one in Crete. We have seen just about every artwork in Italy! In 2009 I started an art space called Creon, with Norm Hinsey, a savvy businessman/curator who asked me to produce the first exhibition in the space. Word got out and more than two hundred people showed up! Norm kept Creon successfully active until 2016 when he closed its doors. Before Creon, when I realized I had a voice, and to meet people in the very intentionally closed Art World, I decided to develop my critical writing skills. Later I was accepted in The International Association of Art Critics. I had the innate ability to write but it took some time to polish my analytical skills. I noted many of the reviews I read in art magazines seemed to have nothing to do with the actual works! They appeared to be made up of fantasies with no special relevance. I began reviewing in 1999 when a beginning gallerist wanted her show reviewed by M Magazine. The editor told her if she signed up for a monthly listing, he would assign me to review her show. This was my second official review. The first was a test with a one-day deadline, to write up a solo Kenneth Nolan exhibit at Jason McCoy Gallery. I luckily made the grade so I started writing on a regular basis. It is sad they have recently dropped me from their mailing list as have many other galleries I have written about. Some people like to gang up to isolate others especially when they are leaders or independent thinkers. I have noticed this trend in the past year or so.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
The biggest obstacle I face is the powerful Art World cliques (art schools, universities, galleries, foundations, museums) in New York that make it difficult for me to navigate and make connections in the Art World especially after the judgment imposed on me by my art school. I never could have imagined that the cold treatment at school would be carried on for the remainder of my life! I am often harassed and excluded from the credit I deserve, such as timely, well presented posting when I review a major exhibition, or have reviews of my work repeatedly published with incorrect caption information. As I mentioned earlier, I am snubbed socially and dropped from important press lists for press previews, openings, and key events for no apparent reason. I was a good friend and supporter of a big art center in Neww Jersey but I was excluded from their mailing list with no reason given. Roger Smith, where I had a six month drawing show in the lobby, excluded me for no reason from their mailing list. This past year I was dropped from the Metropolitan Museum press lists; I had several operations in 2023 so not able to attend all press previews but I have covered major shows at the Met such as the Vermeer Exhibition, Sultan’s Glass and Mughal Jewels. I have asked but I have not succeeded in being reinstated. Socially, I noticed when engaging in a one on one conversation, that connection is abruptly concluded as if the person has been subtly signaled. At one benefit I attended, this occurred four times in a row! It was very disconcerting.
The vigilant network includes chosen artists and professionals, plus others whose images and art careers will enhance it’s standing. I keep a notebook in which I recorded at least thirty incidences where my opportunities and friendships have been summarily blocked. Over the years, there have been no less than sixty-five occasions when I have been barked at, shouted at, dropped by friends who have been accepted in the network, and subtly distanced from friends who have been taken up by this group. Even though I have written at least 300 reviews, and am a member of the International Association of Art Critics, my exhibitions, which are very strong, have not been generally acknowledged. I can imagine there may be unpleasant consequences for supporting someone on the edge. Several reviewers from my solo exhibition in 2020 in New York have simply dropped me; one requested I remove him from my mailing list and would not give a reason. On the up side, because my work is strong and challenging, it was noticed on Internet. I have been invited to show in several art fairs and group shows in Europe in the past year, in Milan, Paris, Brussels, Barcelona and upcoming Monaco with group shows in a gallery in Madrid.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
Since 2000 I have focused on painting and drawing anthropomorphic trees, trees with a human presence, that are not realistic but evocative, featuring the subtle similarities that link tree-forms and people. At first I became attracted by the textural patterns and peeling bark of the sycamore trees, but as I was also drawing from the live model, my vision changed. The figure and tree limbs fused in my psyche transforming them into a hybrid human-tree structure. I found these mysterious trees in Central and Riverside Parks in New York City, which is a surprising hub for nature, and in my travels in Italy, China and Russia. Recently I have developed a need to share the recognition that trees are the “Rock Stars” of the Forest.” Their natural cyclical patterns seem to mirror the cyclical, repeated rhythms of movements we so avidly crave in music. It is time we become more conscious of our need as individuals for the supportive aspects to be found in the forests. Others share my view; Brita Stina Sjaggo of the Luokta-Mavas reindeer herding district in Northern Sweden says in The New York Times “We are not visitors in nature, we are part of nature.” “We are part of the forest and the forest is part of us.” This is a sentiment that resonates deep within me. I think the consciousness that trees are complex beings connected to us would go far to create empathy and increase the likelihood for their survival in the human-dominated world. The tendency of people to help and care for those with whom we empathize is well documented. I hope my art makes a contribution in this direction by stressing the organic roots of all living systems and our primal connection to the nature we have left behind in our high-tech world. Walter Idlewild in his article, “The Tree of Life,” notes, “today, Hrbacek’s identification with the natural world manifests in her best-known trope: haunting renditions of trees with human characteristics.” “The similarities between the human figure and tree forms in my work seem to create multiple meanings,” she says. “They test the boundaries between imagination and belief.” In his review entitled “Metamorphosis” Siba Kumar Das has stated that “Hrbacek has created an art of reconciliation with nature. At a time when nature is seriously endangered, she pushes us to re-imagine that reconciliation. Her art is an ecological force.”
What matters most to you?
I have always been attracted to the principles of Abraham Maslow known as “Self Actualization.” I felt that I had potential that needed to be developed. I am an ambitious risk-taker who sometimes pushes boundaries. I always do my best. In my life and in my art, I have tried to highlight what I think is noteworthy, inspiring and illuminating to others, to share my vision and voice, which I do in my art reviews and in my paintings. I choose exhibitions of visual art that I think deserve a closer look with in-depth appreciation. Many reviews in New York focus on someone’s friend, whose works may be both boring and bad, but what counts is the fact that they are in the “network.” This trend is lowering the bar of the art to be seen in New York City. I hope and believe that changes are in the wind, that “The Times, They Are A Changin,’ as Bob Dylan would say! In Northern Vermont, where I have been spending summers close to nature for many years, I have met wonderful entrepreneurs, restaurateurs who I’ve connected with during summers spent in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont. This area has attracted risk-taking individuals who are flourishing here. Chef Fritz and his wife Paula Halbedl opened The Derby Line Village Inn in 2013; on a visit to the Derby Line area in 2009 on impulse they bought a gorgeous empty mansion and made it a thriving restaurant. Fritz is originally from Austria so the food is based on Austrian dishes with flare. He was a chief on cruise lines who grew weary of the North Atlantic winter waves. He found a haven in Northern Vermont. Paula has a lot of experience, since she previously managed dining halls in Massachusetts.They mentor kids in need of support in the kitchen. Best of all, Fritz put an image of my painting, “Apparition” on his computer desktop. He eventually bought my painting for their apartment. This is the kind of support I have always hoped would materialize in New York. “Busy Bee” in Glover Vermont is a thriving diner that provides a companionable meeting place with great home cooking for all walks of society and life. In this cosy space, farmers and even politicians mingle with partial and full residents and vacationing visitors who have perhaps heard of “Busy Bee” by word of mouth. The diner originally opened in the 1930’s but closed after a run of several successful decades. Owner/Chef Denise Royer has the talent as a cook with an engaging personality, to succeed in revitalizing the diner when the Covid Pandemic hit, with Haley Bean’s back-up, in her informal setting and tasty food, that attracts the creative-minded residents of Glover. She has commissioned one of my paintings for the interior. Her support and the support of those like her makes my vision in art sustainable for continued growth.
Pricing:
- See https://maryhrbacek.com/mary-hrbacek_paintings.html
- $2000 24 x 36″ acrylic on canvas/linen, $1900 24 x 30″
- https://maryhrbacek.com/paintings/mary-hrbacek_paintings_archive.html$36 x 48,” $3500 – $6000
- Drawings, Charcoal on Paper , 22 x 30″ PRICE: $1000 for all drawings on this page (22″x 30″ Charcoal on Paper)
- Oil Pastels on Paper, Southwest, 22 x 30,” $1500
Contact Info:
- Website: https://maryhrbacek.com
- Instagram: @maryhrbacek_trees
- Facebook: https://facebook.com/maryhrbacek
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@maryhrbacek2662?app=desktop
Image Credits
Mary Hrbacek ready to paint in Vermont
Fritz Halbedl, Executive Chef/Proprietor, Derby Line Village Inn, Deby, VT
“Apparition,” by Mary Hrbacek, acrylic on canvas, 12 x 24,” 2016, Interior Dining Room of Derby Line Village Inn
Owner/Chef Denise Royer, the Busy Bee Diner, Glover, Vermont
“The Derby Line Inn,” by Mary Hrbacek, acrylic/mixed media on canvas,
16 x 20,” 2024
Person family, (l-r, Robert, Ellen, David, Mary, Nancy, Martha, Bon Voyage in the Kungsholm stateroom prior to leaving for Sweden
The Busy Bee dine, Glover, VT
Mary Hrbacek at Parker Pie, West Glover, VT