Being Bernard Langlais fills Aucocisco’s summer BY MAGGIE KNOWLES
	BERNARD LANGLAIS Showing at Aucocisco’s Congress and High street galleries | through Aug 31 | 207.874.2060

He looked like the animals that were his trademark subject; especially the lion. Gray renegade hair spurted in every direction, the mane of a brilliant artist. Eyes intense, cheekbones high, Bernard Langlais (1921-1977) had a varied career in art that extended through much of the 20th century, making him one of Maine’s most successful visual artists. Aucocisco hosts Langlais’s impressive work, figurative wood drawings at the High Street gallery and abstract wood reliefs at the Congress Street location, through August 31.

So why spread one artist between two galleries — is it worth it? Here, yes. Langlais’s magic comes from the diversity of his work, and its evolution as his career progressed. There is a stark contrast between the two groups of work, and even those familiar with Langlais will be interested to study the cycle of his styles. Curator Andy Versoza handpicked the works with Langlais’s wife Helen at her Cushing home. And there is a lot to choose from; Helen mentions in a catalogue of her late husband’s work that even she didn’t realize the extent of his output until she inventoried his work in 1977.

Versoza chose pieces that would likely be overlooked in cases such as a museum show, or ones that would be unexpected to those who know the artist’s formal work. However, one piece you may recognize is "Nice Figure," which was shown at the PMA in 2002. A river of painted-blue shapes forges through raw wood. Your eyes are a kayak, following the gentle path, skimming the quiet geometric pattern that leads into the unknown.

Though Langlais was born in rural Old Town and grew up surrounded by lumber mills and woodworking factories, it wasn’t until late in life when the influence of his woody childhood realized itself in his work. While living in NYC (dubbed his "middle years"), the painter made abstract works with found fragments of wood. His unique process became known as "painting in wood" since his work reflected the abstract expressionism his contemporaries were splashing on canvas. One artist Langlais looked to for inspiration was Munch, whose technique is forceful and direct. To both artists, the subject matter was far less important than how it got onto the canvas.

Many critics argue the abstract wood reliefs are Langlais’s best work; I agree. The moment you walk into the Congress Street space, you feel a presence. The works throb from the wall with a primal, steady beat. "Large Oval" asks for an immediate sitting. As tall as I am, this African shield expels a weighty force, as protective as it is nurturing. A symbol is burned onto each buttery-warm wooden shape. The crosses, arrows, and circles call like some sort of ancient code begging to be solved. The works in this gallery all share a primitive spirit, with an edge of violence. I say that because the shapes he created in pieces such as "Flying Splinters" and "Untitled" were sculpted to dagger-sharp points before being deliberately placed onto their beds.

While the wood reliefs are a critical favorite, the general art public responds strongly to the figurative animal wood-drawings, which are Langlais’s trademark subject. The artist moved to his Cushing cottage permanently in 1966, and his final years were spent injecting expressive freedom into the lions, crows, and porcupines that march along the High Street gallery’s wall in a horizontal totem pole of sorts.

Each critter is born from a single piece of wood and mounted on a matte piece of formica — not the speckled green in your grandmother’s kitchen, but a back or white slab that takes nothing away from the character of the animal. The mighty "Rhino" is constricted in his tiny black space, his bulging body pressing the limits, bringing the idea of human confinement to the page. Yet the cocky "Rooster" manages to break free of his cell, bits of his toe and colorful crown leave the space with a just-try-me attitude.

The process of creating the animals was three-fold. After cutting the shapes, Langlais burned in the details, then painted them. The multi-dimensional process gives each animal an amazing life force and personality. "Cat" is my favorite because it reminds me of my own pet, who thinks he is straight off the pages of National Geographic. Though small, the carved tiger undulates with all the prowess of his wild, full-sized cousin. His tail freezes in mid-swing; his sharp eyes stare over your shoulder, causing you to wonder what’s sneaking up behind you.

One piece I’ve seen is not exhibited here, but I want to give an idea of the artist’s scope. Circa 1970, Langlais was studying Wyeth’s famed "Christina’s World," where the subject is forever turned from the viewer. He wondered what she’d look like. So he made her. Massive in scale, she sits on the Langlais property today, gazing out over a field, but now one can walk up to her face (unfortunately not very pretty) and meet her.

Though we’ll never get a chance to meet Langlais, in getting to know his work we can get to know another of Maine’s artistic geniuses.

Maggie Knowles can be reached at margaretknowles@yahoo.com