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CHILE PEPPER Magazine
Collector's Edition
September 2004

THE FINE ART OF SALSA:

Cooking on the Right Side of the Brain

By Lenora Dannelke

Food has long been a delicious source of inspiration for artists. In ancient Greece, the still life artist Zeuxis painted raisins with such realism that birds attempted to devour them. This culinary connection has continued into modern times, with masters such as Warhol, Oldenburg, and Dali paying visual tribute to favorite foodstuffs. A correlation between art and gastronomy can also be achieved, however, through a different approach.

A plate of plain, unadorned food, for example, can be considered a blank canvas waiting to be splashed with vibrant colors. And what better medium to uses than salsa? Any meal - from breakfast to dessert - may be artistically embellished with its sparkling flavors and dazzling hues: Accent with anchos, complement with cayenne, highlight with habaneros, or shade with shisnotsus. Load your palette in the produce aisle, and let your imagination run wild.

Of course, if a cook happens to be a noted fine arts painter, the potential for culinary artistry increases exponentially. Ann Elizabeth Schlegel, an artist who lives in eastern Pennsylvania, is equally passionate about painting and cooking. She frequently manages to combine these two loves by choosing culinary themes for her paintings. For instance, her Bon Appétit series features a playful array of anthropomorphic animal chefs. The collection has also been transformed into prints and plaques that can lend a touch of whimsy to a kitchen or dining area.

Schlegel's still-lifes, infused with the sensuous style of classical romanticism, are lush with ripe tomatoes and vivid peppers. "I like to paint with brilliant, juicy colors. Red is the most daring. It's strong and passionate, and evokes emotions," Schlegel notes. "Paintings of food tend to attract people. I think it's something that has universal appeal."

When the artist has completed her work behind the easel, the 'models' can then serve as the subjects for the culinary expression. "After painting them for a couple of days, they get turned into salsa," she explains.

When Schlegel leaves her studio at Bethlehem's Banana Factory and heads for the kitchen, the same sense of aesthetics that guides her professional work is applied to her personal gastronomic endeavors. "Shopping at the local farmers' market, I look for a range of colors. Seeing peppers in so many bright shades of yellow, orange, red, and green can be inspirational - that's what I call the 'Aha! factor," she explains. "Experimenting is equally important for success in paintings or in cooking. There's a lot of freedom in both art forms. I don't like to adhere to a system. Going with the feel is more my style."

In Schlegel's apartment, an enormous bowl of fresh fruits and vegetable gathered on a previous day's shopping excursion graces a dining table draped in flamboyant linens from Provence. The bright and airy abode captures the rustic charm of a French farmhouse, belying its urban location in Allentown. Schlegel, who studied 19th century art at the Nationale Superiure Ecole Des Beaux Arts in Paris, became enchanted with the south of France while painting there. She believes in the importance of surrounding oneself with colors that stimulate the eye - and appetite. Even her groceries, arranged in an eye-catching style, serve as both a vivid decoration and a gastronomically motivating influence.

The artist examines the contents of the heaping bowl, carefully weighing options and considering choices. "I could make a simple, monochromatic salsa," she ponders, eyeing a pineapple, a yellow bell pepper, and a golden habanero. Alternately, poblanos, tomatillos, jalapeños, and limes vie for attention, suggesting a salsa verde. "Or I could go with something that's over the top and combine all those brilliant colors."

The final candidate wins, so Schlegel begins to peel and chop a rainbow assortment of vegetables - from plump tomatoes to glossy purple onions. "I don't think I ever measure anything," she reports. "Taste, feel, and color are my guidelines. It can be hard to gauge how many jalapeños to include, thought, since they can vary in intensity. Habaneros are usually more consistent, and they add so much flavor - as well as heat - to salsa. It's good to let the flavors mesh for several hours in the fridge. You can always throw in more chile peppers later, if the salsa needs to be hotter."

As the ingredients are stirred together, they create a riot of dazzling colors. "There are two primaries - red and yellow - and lots of interesting secondary shades. Except for blue, it looks like the whole color wheel is represented - but you can fix that by serving the salsa with blue corn chips," Schlegel says.

A pile of vegetable trimmings is mounded on the white porcelain drain board of Schlegel's kitchen sink. Instead of sweeping the cuttings into the garbage disposal, the artist leans over to inspect the colorful pile more closely. "Look at that," she remarks, pointing to a graceful cluster of seeds that hangs from a curved pepper stem.

"And this, "Schlegel continues, her attention shifting to the mottled shades and textures of a scooped-out avocado rind. "That's much more interesting than a whole fruit."

You can almost hear the artist's creative wheels begin to set into motion as she remarks, "It all looks beautiful. In fact, I think this could be a painting...."

Look for a work entitled "Salsa Aftermath" in Schlegel's next show.

*****

The Expess-Times
by SUSAN KALAN
October 17. 2004

Ann Elizabeth Schlegel refers to her top-floor Allentown apartment as her “treehouse,” where she can enjoy the music of migratory birds perched in a nearby cherry tree against the backdrop of the Blue Mountains. She also enjoys the company of her own musical duo, parakeets Lily and Sam.

The 43-year-old, award-winning artist surrounds herself in an environment inspired by her love for European art. There are rescued treasures of trash and antiques, as well as “other people’s art,” as she puts it. Her own style is a contrast, as she chooses to paint life as a series rich in the brilliancy of color and the vibrancy of presentation.

“I guess you could say my decor is a whole plethora of French and German influence. I am a fan of Europe,” she admits.

“Taste, feel, color — those are my guidelines — to go with the feel, that is my style,” she explains. The feel she refers to is the lifeblood of her recent culinary arts series which began just four years ago as an adult beverage series. Individual cocktail paintings sported the titles “Mr. Martini,” “Ms. Manhattan,” “Ms. Cabernet” and “Ms. Chardonnay.”

The project was followed by a wine series, “Cayuga White,” presenting a macro view of vineyard grapes, and a food series, “Bon Appetit,” a whimsical look at animals as chefs with a connection to food portrayed.

The “Bon Appetit” series has a French flair about it, no doubt from Schlegel’s studies at the Nationale Superiure Ecole Des Beaux Arts in Paris. Paintings include the “Truffle Collector” an apron-wearing pig collecting truffles in a basket; “Lapin,” a French adult rabbit seated before a plate of rabbit stew; and “Crab,” a crustacean crabbing in a boat.

Schlegel says she believes food portrayed in still-life emits a “universal appeal,” or a play on the senses further enhanced by the freshness of the open-air marketplace.

Calling herself “a hopeless romantic,” (born on Valentine’s Day), she vents her passion through “brilliant, juicy colors with red the most daring. It’s strong and passionate, and evokes emotions,” she describes in her salsa art/food experimentation noted in the October issue of Chile Pepper magazine. The article is titled, “The Fine Art of Salsa.”

Many of her food artworks also are on display at the Apollo Grill in Bethlehem.

As a fan of the European marketplace, Schlegel makes it a point to patronize the local farmers’ markets back home in Allentown and South Side Bethlehem (where her studio is located at the Banana Factory). She also grows a variety of peppers on her back porch.

“Anything is correct with salsa,” she says, allowing herself to go with the feel and experiment with the fine culinary offerings as a CD of bassanovamusic plays in the background while she works in her kitchen.

Peppers also happen to be her fancy, with “Peppers” the title of one of her works depicting a vast array of the bright vegetables cast across red-and-white checkered linen.

Inspired by the model palette of color available in peppers, Schlegel’s experimentation in the kitchen with such models has no limit. A basket of lemons, tomatoes, onions and hot peppers from the local marketplace is artfully arranged on the living room table, draped in yellow sunflower linen from Provence, France, soon to be transformed into edible art.

She holds true to her word and measures nothing but goes by taste, feel and color as guidelines. Salsa, or sauce, is “a combination of an appetizer, or pick food,” and through experimentation with various ingredients “transcends boundaries.”

She likes her salsa hot, hot, hot, and says it’s hard to gauge the intensity of jalapenos and habaneros except by taste. After finely chopping her models, she’s ready to throw all into a pot — a representation of a color wheel — and chill overnight so flavors can blend. More chili peppers can be added later on for desired heat, she says. For added color in presentation, she recommends blue corn chips. If the salsa is not too salty, she suggests lime tortilla chips.

Her philosophy on life and art exudes an appreciation for family and friends, and for the pleasures of life.

*****

Music paintings accent Bethlehem artist's pied piper role
GO ART
September 01, 2005|By Geoff Gehman Of The Morning Call

Ann Schlegel likes playing pied piper. The Allentown native rallies the cultural community with her paintings of local landmarks, her accordion playing during receptions for exhibitions, her mass e-mails to celebrate everything from Musikfest to Miles of Mules.

Schlegel's role as pied piper will continue during First Friday in Bethlehem. As featured artist at the Banana Factory, where she has a studio, she'll display her paintings of musical instruments floating across striped, scraped backgrounds. In one oil, a clarinet, a mouthpiece and a feather for cleaning drift in front of a rust-and-creamsicle curtain. In another work, half of a flute appears from the upper left side of the canvas, joining a flotilla of clouds.

The paintings are strikingly looser than Schlegel's portraits, landscapes and humorous views of people as cocktails (i.e., the olive-headed Mr. Martini) and animals with the food they produce (i.e., a frog with a plate of frog's legs). The abstract backgrounds were triggered by contemporary works she saw during a 2004 stay in Bethlehem's German sister city, Schwabisch Gmund, where she was a 2003 Banana Factory exchange artist.

This summer Schlegel returned to Schwabisch Gmund to exhibit her music paintings in an appropriate place, a municipal music school in a 14th-century building. They hung unframed on canvas stretched on stretchers made by her carpenter brother, John, to fit the metric system and make traveling easier. Schlegel picked up the stretching-and-traveling tip from Hinrich Schueler, the Banana Factory's 2004 exchange artist from Schwabisch Gmund.

The reception for Schlegel's German exhibit was a splashy affair, with trombonists, a flamenco guitarist and 100 bottles of wine donated by Jean Leonetti, mayor of Antibes Juan-les-Pins, Schwabisch Gmund's sister city in France. During a post-reception dinner, Leonetti invited Schlegel to show her music series at the 2006 jazz festival in Juan-les-Pins, which this year drew the likes of pianist Keith Jarrett and soul singer Solomon Burke.

Schlegel had a busy time in Germany. The former insurance-claims examiner donated her flute painting to the music school, whose dean is a flutist. She traveled widely with her hosts, a pair of goldsmiths who made her a necklace with a heart signifying her birth on Valentine's Day. She visited her father's ancestral town of Dillenburg, where a 17th-century relative supervised the royal family's horses.

Back in Schwabisch Gmund, Schlegel led art workshops in a women's prison. Her students made painted collages in an unusually spiritual place. Art hangs in the hallways and roses grow in the courtyard of a former convent built in the 13th century.

Schlegel declined to ask the women why they were in prison or how they felt. It was only after the workshop that she discovered the crime of a favorite student, who made a feathered portrait of a Picasso-eyed, Picasso-blue woman. Like a large number of inmates, she had killed her husband.

"I felt uncomfortable bringing up issues," says Schlegel. "I just wanted them to focus on creativity and put the tragic stuff behind, at least for four hours."