education
bachelor of arts, uc santa cruz, 1997
organization
member, american society of botanical artists
member, california society of printmakers
explanation
michele petherick is a freelance artist based in northern california. she began her art education under charles warner, at woodland highschool, with a focus on intaglio printmaking. michele progressed to earn a bachelor of arts from the university of california, santa cruz, with an emphasis in the study of scientific illustration. her drawings are often rendered in graphite, ink, watercolor, and gouache, sometimes transferred to an aged surface- antique postcards, old notebooks, forgotten slips of paper. michele explores themes of animation/decay, life/stillness with an assemblage of elements: specimens, rusted tools, objects of virtu, arranged in a way to draw attention to patterns reflected in the organic and the manufactured. while michele’s work is still strongly grounded in the natural and scientific- ornithological, botanical, entomological, she seeks to move beyond the parameters of the field, and is presently revisiting printmaking as a student at laney college in oakland, california.
Exhibitions
- COLLECTION OF STUDENT WORKS
CROCKER ART MUSEUM, SACRAMENTO, CA
SPRING 1993 - ILLUSTRATING NATURE
SCiENCE COMMUNCATION STUDENT WORKS
UCSC
SANTA CRUZ CITY MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY
1997 - EIGHT X EIGHT: SMALL WORKS
HEALDSBURG CENTER FOR THE ARTS HEALDSBURG, CA
SEPTEMBER 17 – NOVEMBER 9, 2014 - METAMORPHOSIS: SPRING STUDENT ART SHOW
BERKELEY CITY COLLEGE, BERKELEY, CA
APRIL 25 – MAY 9, 2024 - 110th Annual california society of printmakers membership exhibition
robert f. agrella art gallery
Santa rosa junior college
october 28 – december 5, 2024 - JURIED STUDENT SHOW
JUNE STEINGART GALLERY
LANEY COLLEGE, OAKLAND, CA
MAY 1-23, 2024 - clay paper wood
JUNE STEINGART GALLERY
LANEY COLLEGE, OAKLAND, CA
february 18 – march 26, 2025 - juried student exhibition
JUNE STEINGART GALLERY
LANEY COLLEGE, OAKLAND, CA
april 16 – may 21, 2025
a statement:
my first memories are of a nest of wasps, a blizzard, a snake twining up a tree. i have seen a scarab in the sahara, i’ve been surrounded by a pod of whales. my father moved us often and everywhere. wherever we were, i watched my mother point out birds on a telephone line, or a flower in the leaf litter. i turned over rocks and pored over field guides. i memorized taxonomies and copied drawings. my father gave me a widened view of the world, but my mother taught me to hone in on patterns and details that could be found no matter how far we spun out from true home. and when we finally did return to the old farmhouse in the middle of a field, i became the caretaker of that history. those inherited elements- the soil, the rusty woodworking tools, old love letters, the names of the birds and flowers and trees, were handed to me when my mother died, and they are now the core of my works. i am the curator of our ghosts.
i try to stand by a rule that i only draw what i have held in my hand. you see what i am holding, and you might approach from many vantages. i have the idea that there is an energy that resides in all things. to regard something, is to revive it, and all things are worthy of notice. i’m drawn to the line between life and stillness, and to hold a frozen bird, or a discarded tool, is to animate a ghost. in stillness, fine details are made accessible. in my works, i am thinking about ties, impermanence, hidden notes, reflected patterns in the organic and synthetic.
when i began my art education, i felt comfortable with the structure and order of scientific illustration, the rules of rendering, an expectation of exactness. i enjoyed the process of research and connectivity with the subject. but i eventually understood that reality is lost with too much precision, and now i experiment with the incomplete and fragmentary.
now that i am revisiting printmaking, i am thinking of how to translate the frequented elements of my drawings. many of my recent prints have been inspired by this story: in a winterscape, a hunting bird will dive at its prey beneath the snowbank, leaving an imprint of body and wings in the ice. ultimately transient, this frozen image of feathers and motion marks that line between living and final breath- a ghostprint.