Ann Conrad Stewart

These new paintings reference points along the Maine Coast where I have worked for over thirty years: Scarborough, Great Cranberry Island, Cape Elizabeth, Great Spruce Head Island, Acadia, Butter Island and, most recently, Monhegan Island on a MARC artists residency from September - October of 2023.

In January of 2024, back-to-back storms struck them all. Initially, I felt stunned to see the breadth of the destruction. Within days, the sea and rainwater receded but the devastating impact to docks, roadways, trees and protective dunes was clear. The Cliff Walk at Prouts Neck, a recent muse (Mapping the Cliff Walk 2020-2022) closed indefinitely due to dangerous conditions on the path. Coastal New England was reeling.

And yet, a series of notable things began to happen. Sand returned to the beaches in a painfully slow but consistent manner that mirrored the tide and moon cycles. Native and naturalized plants began to spring up...some with vigor: hardy beach pea, goldenrod and grasses self-seeded in the disturbed shoreline; asters, bayberry, and milkweed sprouted on sloped seaside banks; cattails, iris and winterberry emerged through dead beach grass and orphaned lobster buoys that had been discarded into peat bogs by astronomical storm tides; ferns, lichen and evergreen saplings exploited the felled logs as a forest nursery.

As dune accretion commenced and deep-rooted plants established themselves at unfamiliar locations, there was a human response that stands as a dramatic point of resilience in this story.  Across Maine, rugged New Englanders and those "from away" worked in concert to fortify and elevate infrastructure above new high-tide thresholds and to replant species to bolster natural barriers. The cooperative immediate and longer-term responses have enabled communication and organization, mobilized resources and ultimately reinforced kinship and community. The shift from recovery to forward-thinking mode has been powerful throughout the state. Like a joined cluster of quaking aspen trees or spruce-fir forests exhibiting crown shyness, maybe community emerges as the key to resilience in modern life.

I have spent my life methodically thinking about and observing a natural world that is not static but is enduring. The drawings and paintings reflect upon this cycle of destruction and renewal; they invite continued broader discussions about the plants that thrive in and fortify these places and the interconnections essential to recovery and strength.