Her art is funky, vibrant and eccentric. So is she.
Beth Feeback, 45, and her husband, Steve, 35, are artists living in Concord. Beth has been painting whimsical, wide-eyed cats for seven years and has since expanded her portfolio, incorporating other animals, oddities and commissioned pieces, even a jar of mayonnaise.
Steve is a digital and spray-paint space artist. Together, with their four cats, the artists enjoy a balance of color, spirit, laughter and bills. As it is with many artists, the work is sporadic. In Beth’s case, even when there is work, sometimes her rheumatoid arthritis prevents her from painting.
Each year, the Feebacks are featured artists at Leanne Pizio’s spring and fall art festivals in Oak Ridge. Not recalling whether it was unseasonably cold for fall or spring, Beth hoped Mother Nature would keep her chilly fingers off the buyers’ enthusiasm as she shivered through preparing her booth for the event. Finally, the cold outlasted Beth, and she headed to town to buy a sweater, leaving Steve in charge of the booth.
“I had spied a Goodwill store on the way into town,” said Beth. “I ran down there and foraged for a throw or afghan. We might get cooties from not washing it, but at least we’d be warm.”
Beth was in luck. She found a new sweater for Steve and a throw for herself.
“Then I spied these two huge square canvases in frames,” she said. “I am always on the prowl for something to paint on or paint over. It helps the environment, and better yet, my pocketbook.”
Beth eagerly bought both canvases, which were priced at $9.99 each, knowing that size canvas would be four times the price on wholesale. She and a Goodwill employee loaded the large paintings into her minivan.
The paintings were not aesthetically pleasing to Beth, which was convenient considering they would likely end up being covered by a new painting: one of an overly ocular acrylic feline. One thing about the paintings was curious, though. As Beth flaunted her find to fellow artists at the festival, Leanne Pizio noticed labels affixed to the back of the frames, identifying the works by artist and name of piece. The label also said the paintings had been part of the Weatherspoon Gallery at UNC-Greensboro.
Leanne cautioned Beth to be sure and do some research before painting over the pieces.
“The Weatherspoon gets some big-name artists,” Beth recalled Pizio saying.
After dismal sales at the festival, the Feebacks strategically repacked their van around the newly acquired giant paintings and headed home. There, the paintings sat in the Feebacks’ studio until Beth had the time to devote to their research. The paintings sat. And sat. And sat.
Finally, in June, Beth perched on her bed with her laptop and typed in the name “Ilya Bolotowsky,” which was on the label on the back of one painting. Her Google search returned a host of information on the artist.
Bolotowsky was a Russian-born Jewish immigrant who came to New York City in 1923 and is considered a leading early 20th-century abstract painter. The piece Beth stared at in disbelief was called “Vertical Diamond.”
With help from a Facebook friend in Carrboro who used to own a vintage store, Beth contacted Sotheby’s auction house in New York City. Meanwhile, another Facebook friend contacted a curator at the Weatherspoon Gallery, who provided Beth with documents of the artwork from the 1979 Collectors Show.
Those documents revealed that a now-defunct textile company had owned both paintings.
“They are similar in color scheme and style. They were probably on display somewhere together,” Beth speculated. “My imagination tells me someone took the paintings home because they liked them, and then they probably died. In reality, I don’t know how they got to Goodwill.”
After the folks at Sotheby’s received photos of “Vertical Diamond” and supporting documents from Beth, they sent an email saying the painting had been accepted for auction, and they valued it at about $15,000 to $20,000.
In awe, Beth mailed the artwork to arrive in New York by the July 15 deadline.
“I’m so excited! This is the kind of stuff that happens to other people, not me and my husband!” said Beth.
After the sale, Beth is eager to attack credit card bills and start a gang. A tricycle gang, that is.
“They make them for adults, and I’ve wanted one a long time,” she said.
The auction is slated for Sept. 21, but there’s a chance it will be delayed until March. Regardless, Beth, Steve and a crew of wide-eyed cats will be watching the auction on their laptop, rooting the bidders on and practicing their parade-waves.