UMVA Showcase – Spring 2025: Tom Paiement, Michael Torlen, David Estey, Camille Kouyoumdjian

Tom Paiement

Craziness surrounds us.

We are complex creatures.

This imagery reflects my reaction to the political climate we are immersed in at the moment. It disheartens and discourages me. The coarseness we are exposed to in much of the dialog we encounter from our elected officials. Astounding.

The tribal feud paintings are a timely metaphor for this age.

Wrestling at best is a most beautiful sport.

However, in this portrayal it is man bloodying man.

No diplomacy here. No dialog.

Cain killing Abel.

 

Michael Torlen – About Freedom

When Trump won the 2024 Presidential election, my work changed. I asked myself “what can I do?” in the face of the rabid, senseless, slashing of our democracy. In addition to the domestic chaos, internationally Trump has aligned with Putin, Russia, and other totalitarian governments and away from the eighty-year alignment with the free world. The current administration is ignoring the US Constitution and the rule of law. If the country succumbs to the unlawful, anti-constitutional will of Trump and the MAGA right-wing, the United States will no longer be a democracy. 

Why, as an Artist, Should I Care?

One of the values of art in a democratic society is there is no singular “right” answer to the meaning of art. There are many meanings (contents) in a work of art—from medium and materials to subject matter. The artist’s intention is only one meaning, not THE only meaning. The cultural moment, the discourse surrounding it, the apparent skill or un-skill of the artist, the viewer’s beholding it, where the work is located, its provenance, and a host of other factors, from aesthetic, economic, to controversial, inform the meaning. Artists are free to make whatever work they want to make. But this is true only in a democratic society.

In a totalitarian society, the government controls the meaning of art. Art becomes propaganda, promoting the ideology of the authoritarians. As the United States drifts toward authoritarianism, oligarchy, and the right, artists will no longer be free. Freedom matters in a democracy and artists can do whatever they like, but only in a democracy.

 

David Estey – Hell, No!

In these times of upheaval, artists are called upon to be visionaries and advocates for the way forward. As an improvisational artist, I rarely can do that through my art. If it doesn’t bubble up naturally, the results feel like a jaded cliché. That doesn’t mean I’m not perceptive, passionate, enraged, and fearful about what is happening to our country.

In another life as an IRS regional manager of public affairs for the Mid-Atlantic states, I knew what responsible government looked like. I see clearly where our country is headed, and I am thoroughly pissed about it. No matter what analyses and excuses the pundits and politicians come up with, we have just given away the keys to our security, our treasury, our entire government, our democracy and our leadership in the free world. Think about that! A small group of white, male billionaires and their incompetent, selfish sycophants now control the US Presidency, the House and Senate, Supreme Court, Pentagon, Justice Department, Treasury, Office of Management and Budget, Health and Human Services, and many other departments—also the rule of law, major legacy, and social media, and the emerging AI technology. When I was in government, anyone caught making unauthorized access to confidential information would be fired on the spot, so I just can’t believe that unvetted computer geeks could gain access so easily to the government’s most confidential data. All of this today may be under the deceitful guise of reform in the eyes of the gullible, but let’s call it what it is: a coup d’etat to benefit the rich and powerful—a criminal enterprise at the expense of everyone else. 

How could this happen under our Constitutional system of checks and balances? Our spineless politicians let it happen, because most are always more interested in party loyalty and maintaining their privileged status than adhering to their oaths of office. It is not enough for them to say the unlawful takeover of our government is “concerning” or to express outrage in the well of an empty House or Senate. We need articles of impeachment for the President and unethical Supreme Court justices, a Senate that will convict and remove them, widespread arrests for unlawful possession of confidential and classified information, and a Justice Department that will fearlessly prosecute the cases. 

I saw this coming. In August, 2001, I made a painting called The Presence of Evil, with a scary half skull in a catastrophic red sky with an ominous shadow circling an island on fire in a beautiful blue water. I don’t know why I did it, but a few weeks later, we had a foreign attack on 9/11. Thereafter we came together briefly as a nation, but after moving back to Maine, I was dismayed with the way our fellow Americans began talking increasingly at or past one another in divisive, issue politics, rather than looking at the whole together. I tried to express that idea in my 2013 painting Political Dialog, in which light and dark-skinned, young and old, male and female, with the latter holding up a mask, are disrespecting and talking over one another in an accusatory way. 

In January 2015, I wrote an op-ed published by the Bangor Daily News entitled “A just, healthy society can’t be based on corporate profits.” It basically made the point that sooner or later we all will realize we “are being screwed alike by the wealthy and powerful elite.” Later that year, my painting, Hell, No! expressed my anger about the rise of incompetent authoritarianism being embraced by a growing segment of the electorate. 

In 2022, I started a painting that eventually became Country over Party, expressing my fear as to whether patriotism would prevail among our warped and divided electorate or we collectively would allow our democracy to sunset. Well, now we know—and it ain’t good.

A busy, distracted nation has been persuaded by foreign and domestic disinformation from unreliable media sources to inadvertently unleash a shock and awe authoritarian takeover straight out of the fascist playbook: create mass confusion and disinformation to exhaust the public, take control of all three branches of government, replace civil service experts with political hacks, systematically eliminate safeguards and watchdogs, discredit then take over the media, control the information narrative with lies and propaganda, stack the courts to avoid accountability, ignore the rule of law except to punish opponents, and strike fear in the public to discourage resistance.

Where are the heroes who will step up to save our government of, by and for the people? They seem few and far between among our leadership. Guess what: they are us, we the people! We are the ones who have to save ourselves by standing up to resist an unlawful, unprecedented takeover. We are already seeing it in the streets across the country. We are the heroes we need.

Artists can often see things coming, but not all are going to become heroic visual advocates. This challenge is every citizen’s fight, but I have no doubt that visual artists, musicians, performers, writers and other creative types are going to be at the forefront of resistance—one way or another. So step up and get involved. Please! Your country needs you to stand up now and say, “Hell, No!”

Footnote: By the time this is published, I hope the authoritarian executive branch has been rejected by a huge groundswell of public resistance, a principled reassertion of congressional authority to decide programs and funding, and an overwhelming court insistence on the rule of law.

 

Camille Kouyoumdjian

Artists are, at our core, communicators. We absorb the world’s turbulence, internalize it, and transform it into something we can share. We reflect both personal and collective experience, giving shape to grief, resistance, and hope. In times of upheaval—climate disasters, war, political instability, and personal reckonings—art remains a vital force. It allows us to process, to heal, and to reimagine. It is a form of engagement, a way to bear witness and to assert that something different is possible.

Collaboration among artists is essential in this process. By working together, we learn from each other, gaining new skills and perspectives that enhance our ability to communicate effectively. Art is inherently nonverbal, yet it speaks volumes. In sharing techniques, ideas, and insights, we refine our ability to craft work that resonates, that reaches others on a profound level. Through collaboration, we strengthen our collective voice, creating works that are more relatable, impactful, and capable of inspiring meaningful change.

In my work, I seek to bridge beauty with urgency, to make the familiar a gateway to deeper thought and action. The planet’s future is a shared responsibility, and every medium—whether paint, movement, or words—has the power to contribute to that conversation. This is the path I choose, not just as an artist, but as a mother, an environmentalist, and a human being searching for meaning in an unsettled world.

I have spent my life attuned to the rhythms of the natural world. As an artist and environmentalist, I see changes not only in scientific reports but in the landscapes I have known intimately since childhood. National parks that once felt eternal now bear the scars of climate shifts: glaciers receding, forests withering under the stress of invasive pests and prolonged drought. Closer to home, my own garden and apiary reflect a world in flux. Plants bloom at unseasonable times; bees struggle with unpredictable weather patterns and the loss of reliable forage. These changes are undeniable, and they weigh heavily on me—not just as an observer, but as a mother.

My daughter feels these shifts acutely, sometimes more than I know how to comfort. She is deeply distressed by the scale of loss and the apparent inertia of those in power. As a parent, I try to balance honesty with hope, to guide her through grief while encouraging action. She sees my frustration but also my resolve. We talk about solutions, about resilience, about the role of creativity in shaping a different future. But I cannot pretend that I have all the answers. Instead, I show her what I know: that art, like nature, is an act of renewal.

In my studio, I embody this ethos by upcycling and reusing as many materials as possible, minimizing waste and ensuring that my process aligns with my values. Safe studio practices are integral to my work—not just for my own well-being but as a model of sustainability. Every choice, from the pigments I use to the surfaces I paint on, carries meaning beyond the finished piece.

As an artist, I have chosen to create semi-abstract work that remains accessible. My goal is not to dictate a singular narrative but to invite viewers into the familiar—landscapes that evoke memory and connection—while leaving space for personal interpretation. I hope my work sparks joy, but also contemplation. If it can provoke even the smallest shift in how someone sees their relationship with the natural world, then it has done its job.