November 2024 Featured Artist
Timing is Everything:
Harriet Livathinos Shares How her Life Journey Influenced her Art
Harriet Livathinos in Her Studio
Photo Courtesy: Harriet Livathinos |
A native Texan, born in Dallas in 1939, Harriet Livathinos has traveled extensively throughout her career, living and working in Athens, Greece, Dallas, Texas, and throughout the Northeast United States. She received her B.A. in art and education from the University of North Texas and her M.A. in painting and printmaking from Wayne State University in Detroit, Michigan. Harriet has furthered her artistic education with coursework at the Art Students League and the Woodstock School of Art.
Harriet’s work is in private collections in Greece and at the U.S. Embassy in Athens, as well as in Italy, England, and throughout the United States. She has enjoyed many exhibitions and prestigious awards in and around the Hudson Valley region of New York, East Hampton, New York, and Greenwich, Connecticut. She is represented by the Carter Burden Gallery in New York City. A current resident of Kingston, New York, she remains a passionate lover of life and all the inspiration it brings her. "With ink, the fact that it is a flowing medium that can be poured, dripped, splattered, blotted or directed intrigues me. So, I worked with ink on Mylar and pastels and watercolor on paper (more recently on canvas). You learn by ‘doing’ as the philosopher [John] Dewey said." ~ Harriet Livathinos |
Sandra Bertrand, travel and culture editor, spoke with Harriet about life, taking risks, and her unique journey traveling the world, experiencing twists and turns, until discovering her latest niche as an abstract artist.
The comedian George Burns said, “By the time you’re 80 years old, you’ve learned everything. You only have to remember it.”
I knew if I encouraged my dear friend and talented, accomplished artist Harriet Livathinos to unlock the challenging and well-traveled life she has led, it would be a worthwhile trip down memory lane for us both.
The comedian George Burns said, “By the time you’re 80 years old, you’ve learned everything. You only have to remember it.”
I knew if I encouraged my dear friend and talented, accomplished artist Harriet Livathinos to unlock the challenging and well-traveled life she has led, it would be a worthwhile trip down memory lane for us both.
I’d like to start with your early years in the big wide world. Since the creative urge doesn’t happen in a void, let’s talk about what affected you, your curiosity. What is it about Texas that grabbed your young attention?
Okay! I think I was very lucky to grow up in the ‘40s and the '50s in the Texas public school system. In Dallas, every other day, we would have art and music.
That’s a plus for elementary education in those times.
I loved the art classes. In the music classes, I never got to sing because I couldn’t carry a tune. In the third grade, I did a painting of a swimming pool with kids, and my teacher suggested that I outline my figures. I didn’t want to and didn’t do it. In the next art class, I walked in and caught her outlining my figures.
Oh, no!
And I was furious! That painting got sent on a national tour, but I wasn’t happy. It wasn’t my painting anymore. It probably got picked because of her outline, but it was not what I wanted to do. So, there was already a pride of work growing in my little brain.
I put eyes, a mouth and a nose on the little face I drew in kindergarten, and my teacher said we’re not doing noses yet. (Laughter). Getting back to Texas, what were some of the images you remember on your own turf?
Oh sure. My best friend and I played mean teacher and naughty student, and we’d end up drawing in her breakfast nook. When she moved away, we mailed each other drawings and still do to this day. In high school, I got admitted into a painting class at the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts where I was first introduced to oils. I still have a painting of a cactus so that was very Texan of me!
Were you drawing people and animals at the same time?
Yes. That cactus happened because in the class we had to pick something related to Texas. But I always liked doing figures and animals, especially horses.
When you continued your education, at what point did you or your art take you out of Texas?
Well, before that, I attended North Texas State University, majoring in art education, because at that point women could be nurses, teachers, secretaries and telephone operators. I majored in a variety of disciplines — life drawing, painting, sculpting, weaving, and ceramics. I was very impressed by a painting teacher that had just been imported from Cooper Union in New York. We were a very conservative college. He had long hair and wore squaw boots — this was in the ‘50s — and he arranged for us to go see foreign films. I remember seeing Cocteau, Jean Renoir, and Ingmar Bergman which I would NEVER have seen otherwise.
Okay! I think I was very lucky to grow up in the ‘40s and the '50s in the Texas public school system. In Dallas, every other day, we would have art and music.
That’s a plus for elementary education in those times.
I loved the art classes. In the music classes, I never got to sing because I couldn’t carry a tune. In the third grade, I did a painting of a swimming pool with kids, and my teacher suggested that I outline my figures. I didn’t want to and didn’t do it. In the next art class, I walked in and caught her outlining my figures.
Oh, no!
And I was furious! That painting got sent on a national tour, but I wasn’t happy. It wasn’t my painting anymore. It probably got picked because of her outline, but it was not what I wanted to do. So, there was already a pride of work growing in my little brain.
I put eyes, a mouth and a nose on the little face I drew in kindergarten, and my teacher said we’re not doing noses yet. (Laughter). Getting back to Texas, what were some of the images you remember on your own turf?
Oh sure. My best friend and I played mean teacher and naughty student, and we’d end up drawing in her breakfast nook. When she moved away, we mailed each other drawings and still do to this day. In high school, I got admitted into a painting class at the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts where I was first introduced to oils. I still have a painting of a cactus so that was very Texan of me!
Were you drawing people and animals at the same time?
Yes. That cactus happened because in the class we had to pick something related to Texas. But I always liked doing figures and animals, especially horses.
When you continued your education, at what point did you or your art take you out of Texas?
Well, before that, I attended North Texas State University, majoring in art education, because at that point women could be nurses, teachers, secretaries and telephone operators. I majored in a variety of disciplines — life drawing, painting, sculpting, weaving, and ceramics. I was very impressed by a painting teacher that had just been imported from Cooper Union in New York. We were a very conservative college. He had long hair and wore squaw boots — this was in the ‘50s — and he arranged for us to go see foreign films. I remember seeing Cocteau, Jean Renoir, and Ingmar Bergman which I would NEVER have seen otherwise.
Fireball
Ink & Watercolor on Canvas ~ 24 x 30 inches
© Harriet Livathinos
Ink & Watercolor on Canvas ~ 24 x 30 inches
© Harriet Livathinos
You’d never have had the exposure to those kinds of filmmakers.
No! So that was eye-opening. After graduation, I taught elementary art for a year in Sherman, Texas, to save money for graduate school. Then a former professor recommended Wayne State University in Detroit. I was the only Texan there. I was majoring in painting and printmaking, and I was surprised and pleased to find that the life drawing models there were nude. At North Texas, they wore leotards from their necks to their toes!
(Joint laughter)
I spent my young years being shocked by many things and that was one of them. Then I went to seek my fortune in New York City. Ad agencies said my portfolio was nice but not commercial enough. I ended up getting a job at JCPenney doing ‘All these for 99 cents’ kinds of ads (more laughter) which paid very little. I couldn’t afford to live in the city anymore.
No! So that was eye-opening. After graduation, I taught elementary art for a year in Sherman, Texas, to save money for graduate school. Then a former professor recommended Wayne State University in Detroit. I was the only Texan there. I was majoring in painting and printmaking, and I was surprised and pleased to find that the life drawing models there were nude. At North Texas, they wore leotards from their necks to their toes!
(Joint laughter)
I spent my young years being shocked by many things and that was one of them. Then I went to seek my fortune in New York City. Ad agencies said my portfolio was nice but not commercial enough. I ended up getting a job at JCPenney doing ‘All these for 99 cents’ kinds of ads (more laughter) which paid very little. I couldn’t afford to live in the city anymore.
Wasn’t it around that time you considered traveling to Europe?
Almost. I managed to get a job teaching in Wilton, Connecticut, in three different schools. At that time, I got back in touch with an old high school friend who was finishing her studies in ‘How to Teach English as a Foreign Language’ (TEFL) at Columbia University. She was going to travel through Europe the summer before teaching at the American University in Cairo and wanted to know if I wanted to come along. I did, of course! I only had enough money for a one-way ticket, so I got a list of American schools in in the countries we planned to visit.
That was very brave, figuring out a way to get back, finding somewhere that would hire you.
I expected to find a job. I was so naïve. When we got to Greece, late August maybe, I thought, oh boy, I like it here. I was nervous about finding a job in Cairo, so I went to the American School in Piraeus. They didn’t need anybody, but they said to try this little school up in the mountains. So, without knowing any Greek at all, I found a bus to let me off at the right place on Mount Penteli on the outskirts of Athens for the Ursuline School — a white stucco building with a red tile roof and bougainvillea trailing all around. I thought this was for me. I walked in and the little nun wanted to know if I had a teaching certificate. I said yes, and she said, ‘Heaven sent you!’
An unbelievable stroke of luck.
This was Friday and school was going to start that Monday! They already had a nun who was the art teacher. But they didn’t have a fourth-grade teacher. I think the American School had lured their teacher away for more money! So, I walked out of there with an armful of books. I was going to be teaching in English to children from the various embassies. I was there for five years, and the painting I did was inspired by the gorgeous landscape, the colorful customs, and the wonderful, hospitable people.
Almost. I managed to get a job teaching in Wilton, Connecticut, in three different schools. At that time, I got back in touch with an old high school friend who was finishing her studies in ‘How to Teach English as a Foreign Language’ (TEFL) at Columbia University. She was going to travel through Europe the summer before teaching at the American University in Cairo and wanted to know if I wanted to come along. I did, of course! I only had enough money for a one-way ticket, so I got a list of American schools in in the countries we planned to visit.
That was very brave, figuring out a way to get back, finding somewhere that would hire you.
I expected to find a job. I was so naïve. When we got to Greece, late August maybe, I thought, oh boy, I like it here. I was nervous about finding a job in Cairo, so I went to the American School in Piraeus. They didn’t need anybody, but they said to try this little school up in the mountains. So, without knowing any Greek at all, I found a bus to let me off at the right place on Mount Penteli on the outskirts of Athens for the Ursuline School — a white stucco building with a red tile roof and bougainvillea trailing all around. I thought this was for me. I walked in and the little nun wanted to know if I had a teaching certificate. I said yes, and she said, ‘Heaven sent you!’
An unbelievable stroke of luck.
This was Friday and school was going to start that Monday! They already had a nun who was the art teacher. But they didn’t have a fourth-grade teacher. I think the American School had lured their teacher away for more money! So, I walked out of there with an armful of books. I was going to be teaching in English to children from the various embassies. I was there for five years, and the painting I did was inspired by the gorgeous landscape, the colorful customs, and the wonderful, hospitable people.
Unexpected Journey
Ink on Myler ~ 17 x 21 inches
© Harriet Livathinos
Ink on Myler ~ 17 x 21 inches
© Harriet Livathinos
Well, Greece is a magical place. I think of the light, the way the elements of nature are ready at hand, the simple things of life, and they seem to come to you in that place. It was fated to be.
Timing is everything. If it had been earlier or later, they would have found somebody else. It was on that mountain where they took the marble from for the Parthenon.
So, during those five years while you were learning Greek, meeting new friends, discovering Athens, you met your husband?
I met Yanni, who was an architect, and we were married there, but soon after we moved to the States. He wanted to work with the Walter Gropius Architects Collaborative in Boston. I had a terrible experience substitute teaching in Cambridge. I got a job at the William Howard Taft Junior High, which must have been built in Taft’s time. They locked the doors at nine o’clock in the morning and didn’t unlock them until three in the afternoon. The kids were divided by achievement test results, and the art classes were assigned to the students with the lowest results. These kids were twenty years old! The only supplies were fat crayons and manila paper.
Underprivileged students?
I don’t know, but they needed something more than an art teacher. You couldn’t send a kid to the office unless you found a weapon or drugs on them. I lasted a week, and when I resigned, the principal said I was the 17th teacher for the position! We moved to Dallas next, and I got a job downtown as an elevator operator. I didn’t have to be inside the elevator. When people came in, I would flip the switch on my desk and the door opened, and then flip another, and the door would close. Then one of the people in the building suggested I get a job as a food stamp case worker. It was certainly more interesting than being an elevator operator.
Timing is everything. If it had been earlier or later, they would have found somebody else. It was on that mountain where they took the marble from for the Parthenon.
So, during those five years while you were learning Greek, meeting new friends, discovering Athens, you met your husband?
I met Yanni, who was an architect, and we were married there, but soon after we moved to the States. He wanted to work with the Walter Gropius Architects Collaborative in Boston. I had a terrible experience substitute teaching in Cambridge. I got a job at the William Howard Taft Junior High, which must have been built in Taft’s time. They locked the doors at nine o’clock in the morning and didn’t unlock them until three in the afternoon. The kids were divided by achievement test results, and the art classes were assigned to the students with the lowest results. These kids were twenty years old! The only supplies were fat crayons and manila paper.
Underprivileged students?
I don’t know, but they needed something more than an art teacher. You couldn’t send a kid to the office unless you found a weapon or drugs on them. I lasted a week, and when I resigned, the principal said I was the 17th teacher for the position! We moved to Dallas next, and I got a job downtown as an elevator operator. I didn’t have to be inside the elevator. When people came in, I would flip the switch on my desk and the door opened, and then flip another, and the door would close. Then one of the people in the building suggested I get a job as a food stamp case worker. It was certainly more interesting than being an elevator operator.
I would think so. Maybe a fascinating character study opportunity.
I went to some really dicey places for home visits. Often the grannies were in charge of the children because the parents were either in jail or addicted. Those grannies were fabulous. I just loved them. I had to figure out their budget, what they paid for rent, and where that money came from. One of them brought her receipts in a shoebox and dumped them all over my desk.
Was it during this time that you decided to get back to your painting?
A bit, but it was during the Reagan administration when funds were cut for social services. I was a food stamp worker for seven years, so older workers like me were given bigger caseloads of clients who were more needy than ever. I was getting stressed out from overworking. So, I finally quit and that’s when I started painting full time.
What do you remember about the evolution of your artwork?
Well, let me digress a bit. Yanni was quite a traveler and when we sold our house in Dallas we went on an amazing trip to India and Nepal. We flew to Bombay and went by bus to Jaipur, and onto New Delhi. Then we flew to Katmandu, and the sounds and smells and tastes were all so new and thrilling. I took lots of photos. I’ve made many oil paintings inspired by that trip plus trips in the Greek islands and Italy, primarily. His travel lust was a big influence on me.
I went to some really dicey places for home visits. Often the grannies were in charge of the children because the parents were either in jail or addicted. Those grannies were fabulous. I just loved them. I had to figure out their budget, what they paid for rent, and where that money came from. One of them brought her receipts in a shoebox and dumped them all over my desk.
Was it during this time that you decided to get back to your painting?
A bit, but it was during the Reagan administration when funds were cut for social services. I was a food stamp worker for seven years, so older workers like me were given bigger caseloads of clients who were more needy than ever. I was getting stressed out from overworking. So, I finally quit and that’s when I started painting full time.
What do you remember about the evolution of your artwork?
Well, let me digress a bit. Yanni was quite a traveler and when we sold our house in Dallas we went on an amazing trip to India and Nepal. We flew to Bombay and went by bus to Jaipur, and onto New Delhi. Then we flew to Katmandu, and the sounds and smells and tastes were all so new and thrilling. I took lots of photos. I’ve made many oil paintings inspired by that trip plus trips in the Greek islands and Italy, primarily. His travel lust was a big influence on me.
Bombay Washday
Oil on Canvas ~ 24 x 30 inches © Harriet Livathinos |
Jaipur
Oil on Canvas ~ 51 x 61 inches © Harriet Livathinos |
All that travel and photography translated into a lot of color and imagery in your paintings.
You bet! After returning from that trip, in the mid ‘80s, an old college friend proposed that I help her start a temporary employment service with an emphasis on graphic design in New York City’s West Village. We called it Swing Shift. The separation became hard on the marriage, so we eventually divorced. But Yanni and I are to this day the best of friends.
That’s quite an endeavor. Where did your painting come in then?
Evenings and weekends I painted, using the travel photos for inspiration. I used the Swing Shift basement for that. After being introduced to a gallery owner, now friend, in East Hampton, I was given a couple of exhibitions which were great.
That must have been thrilling as so much of your painting had been a private endeavor, and then you were suddenly sharing it with formal exhibitions.
Classes are important to me, so during my twenty years in New York City, I took illustration at the New School and figure drawing at the Art Students League. Then, in 2008, it was a really difficult time for small businesses and ours was no exception. Companies bypassed temporary agencies and hired online. So that was the end of that.
Was that the incentive to move upstate in the Woodstock area?
I did move to Woodstock around then, with my companion, also an artist. And I continued painting nature — such beauty upstate.
You became associated with two institutions: The Woodstock Art Association and Museum (WAAM), an institution of renown since the early 20th century, where you served on their board, and at The Woodstock School of Art, where you were in Meredith Rosier’s classes. Is that when the abstraction work began?
Absolutely. When I enrolled in her abstract drawing and painting class, I was nervous, never having done that before, but the teacher was so accomplished, and she made my transition from realism to abstraction fun. Abstraction is expressing feelings and ideas; you can really get your teeth into it if it’s your thing. I got to participate in many regional exhibits, then had a solo show at WAAM. In 2018, I was honored by a ten-panel exhibition at Carter Burden Gallery in Manhattan called ‘The Sky is Falling.’ In August of 2025, I will be sharing an exhibition there with three other artists. Abstraction is my way of dealing with these turbulent times.
You bet! After returning from that trip, in the mid ‘80s, an old college friend proposed that I help her start a temporary employment service with an emphasis on graphic design in New York City’s West Village. We called it Swing Shift. The separation became hard on the marriage, so we eventually divorced. But Yanni and I are to this day the best of friends.
That’s quite an endeavor. Where did your painting come in then?
Evenings and weekends I painted, using the travel photos for inspiration. I used the Swing Shift basement for that. After being introduced to a gallery owner, now friend, in East Hampton, I was given a couple of exhibitions which were great.
That must have been thrilling as so much of your painting had been a private endeavor, and then you were suddenly sharing it with formal exhibitions.
Classes are important to me, so during my twenty years in New York City, I took illustration at the New School and figure drawing at the Art Students League. Then, in 2008, it was a really difficult time for small businesses and ours was no exception. Companies bypassed temporary agencies and hired online. So that was the end of that.
Was that the incentive to move upstate in the Woodstock area?
I did move to Woodstock around then, with my companion, also an artist. And I continued painting nature — such beauty upstate.
You became associated with two institutions: The Woodstock Art Association and Museum (WAAM), an institution of renown since the early 20th century, where you served on their board, and at The Woodstock School of Art, where you were in Meredith Rosier’s classes. Is that when the abstraction work began?
Absolutely. When I enrolled in her abstract drawing and painting class, I was nervous, never having done that before, but the teacher was so accomplished, and she made my transition from realism to abstraction fun. Abstraction is expressing feelings and ideas; you can really get your teeth into it if it’s your thing. I got to participate in many regional exhibits, then had a solo show at WAAM. In 2018, I was honored by a ten-panel exhibition at Carter Burden Gallery in Manhattan called ‘The Sky is Falling.’ In August of 2025, I will be sharing an exhibition there with three other artists. Abstraction is my way of dealing with these turbulent times.
The Great Divide
Ink & Watercolor on Paper ~ 20 x 20 inches © Harriet Livathinos |
Swirling Questions
Ink & Watercolor on Canvas ~ 20 x 20 inches © Harriet Livathinos |
You’ve become very successful because you’ve not only found a new way of working but also trying out different mediums. Quite adventurous!
The materials I’d been using had been oil on canvas. With Rosier’s class, I was using graphite, pencils, ink and charcoal on paper. Then I thought I would try Mylar as a drawing surface. With ink, the fact that it is a flowing medium that can be poured, dripped, splattered, blotted or directed intrigues me. So, I worked with ink on Mylar and pastels and watercolor on paper (more recently on canvas). You learn by ‘doing’ as the philosopher [John] Dewey said.
It takes risk. My mother used to say, “If you fall off the horse, you dust yourself off and get back in the saddle.”
Every experiment isn’t going to work. I’ve had some colossal failures.
As one grows older, we slow down in our physical activities but maybe increase in our mental activities. How do you find you’ve dealt with the aging process? Do you have any hints?
I wouldn’t know. I’m not aging!
You’re still that little girl confronting that teacher in third grade?
(Laughter) I think being in the company of like-minded artists is really helpful. I look forward to those times. And it helps living with an artist.
Do you feel the arts have a special significance in troubled times?
I do. It’s a release to produce art in these times. You have to feel lucky if someone gets it and appreciates it. It might be harder if it’s abstraction rather than realism, but it has its place as well.
With all that artistic inspiration, where do you find your sanctuary, your greatest peace?
I think it’s when I get my art supplies out, and I don’t have to put them away for a few hours. It’s when work begins, and it’s going to be uninterrupted for a while.
Maybe that’s one of the joys of growing older. Commanding your own space and really living in it.
Absolutely.
The materials I’d been using had been oil on canvas. With Rosier’s class, I was using graphite, pencils, ink and charcoal on paper. Then I thought I would try Mylar as a drawing surface. With ink, the fact that it is a flowing medium that can be poured, dripped, splattered, blotted or directed intrigues me. So, I worked with ink on Mylar and pastels and watercolor on paper (more recently on canvas). You learn by ‘doing’ as the philosopher [John] Dewey said.
It takes risk. My mother used to say, “If you fall off the horse, you dust yourself off and get back in the saddle.”
Every experiment isn’t going to work. I’ve had some colossal failures.
As one grows older, we slow down in our physical activities but maybe increase in our mental activities. How do you find you’ve dealt with the aging process? Do you have any hints?
I wouldn’t know. I’m not aging!
You’re still that little girl confronting that teacher in third grade?
(Laughter) I think being in the company of like-minded artists is really helpful. I look forward to those times. And it helps living with an artist.
Do you feel the arts have a special significance in troubled times?
I do. It’s a release to produce art in these times. You have to feel lucky if someone gets it and appreciates it. It might be harder if it’s abstraction rather than realism, but it has its place as well.
With all that artistic inspiration, where do you find your sanctuary, your greatest peace?
I think it’s when I get my art supplies out, and I don’t have to put them away for a few hours. It’s when work begins, and it’s going to be uninterrupted for a while.
Maybe that’s one of the joys of growing older. Commanding your own space and really living in it.
Absolutely.
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