Melissa Gamwell’s handmade touch

Melissa Gamwell, hand lettering with precision and care.
Kevin Greenberg

Melissa Gamwell, hand lettering with precision and care.
"There is no better feeling than working through something with your own brain and your own hands." —Melissa Gamwell
In an age of automation, Melissa Gamwell is keeping the human hand alive.
The Cornwall, Connecticut-based calligrapher is practicing an art form that’s been under attack by machines for nearly 400 years, and people are noticing. For proof, look no further than the line leading to her candle-lit table at the Stissing House Craft Feast each winter. In her first year there, she scribed around 1,200 gift tags, cards, and hand drawn ornaments.
Each piece makes a gift, a note or even a Christmas tree seem more personal, more considered, and more connected to humanity. Since then, demand for her personalized, hand-lettered tags, ornaments and cards has only grown, appearing in mailboxes across the region and at shops like the Cornwall Whale and Marton & Davis in Chatham, New York. Her precision is remarkable, and to watch her create these one-of-a-kind pieces is an art all unto itself.
In recent months, we’ve seen a deluge of stories on digital replacement. Data managers, bankers and even therapists are being replaced by computer programs in mass waves of layoffs. But what many still find surprising about the proliferation of nonhuman competitors in the job market is how it’s affecting the arts. Illustrators, animators, photographers, musicians and even on-screen actors are being supplanted by bots touted as “artificial intelligence agents.”
But calligraphy — and handwriting in general — has been in the crosshairs of mechanical progress for centuries. There was a time, if you can believe it, when writing anything required ink, paper and sometimes even a living, breathing human scribe. No typewriters, no word processors, no voice-to-text programs.
Then came Gutenberg’s printing press. Sure, it changed the world for the better, ensuring a greater distribution of ideas, and helping spark some of the most important political movements in history. But it also marked one of the first moments when technology replaced the artistic work of the human hand. Over the centuries, printers, designers and technologists have continued to innovate. Today, with Photoshop or Illustrator, an entire universe of alphabets exists, from ornate and embellished to precise and futuristic — all designed to replace the human hand.

Yet, despite this centuries-long assault from technology, Gamwell has found her own way to thrive. Largely self-taught, she combines her drawing and industrial design background with an old-school New England childhood in Maine that involved “very tangible, hands-on, creative problem-solving using many materials.” Raised by “parents who loved antiquarian books, often filled with hand-written dedications,” hers was the kind of upbringing in which “traditional practices were cherished and flaunted” — a time and place with “hand-painted lettering on churches, street signage, the stones in beautiful churchyard cemeteries, and log books.”
Those early impressions have stayed with her, heightening her appreciation of sometimes overlooked details.
“There’s so much ephemera floating around with traces of beautiful handwriting to see everywhere, even now in Connecticut,” she said.
Even in a digital age, she keeps technology at a distance.
“You will not find ChatGPT on my phone, and you will usually not find my phone on me,” she said. Instead, she opts for a notebook, a scrap of paper or the back of a receipt. Sometimes, she goes even further, gathering black walnuts from trees on her property to make the specialized ink for her practice.
Gamwell’s approach to her craft is also philosophical. “There is no better feeling than working through something with your own brain and your own hands, even if you find it less exemplary than you would hope. And it only uses the water you’re already consuming. Do you need to convey an idea? Draw it, however horrific or childish. Write it, even if you never learned proper grammar — because you’ve always had programs do it,” she said.
“Sometimes I think that everything I like is ‘historic’ but it’s really that I just find more value in the traditional methods, which are still alive and well, and desperately in need of stewards for the future.”
After nearly 400 years of pressure, it’s encouraging to see handwriting — an art form that once seemed destined for obsolescence — still thriving, one careful stroke at a time. And thanks to Gamwell, perhaps there’s a new generation of observers, collectors and future calligraphers ready to carry it forward.
D.H. Callahan is a voice actor, creative director and trail steward. He lives with his wife, artist Lane Arthur, in West Cornwall, Connecticut.
Joe Brennan
The Edgewood Restaurant, a beloved Amenia roadside restaurant run by George and Anne Phillips, pictured during its peak years in the 1950s and ’60s.
With the recent death of George Phillips at 100, locals are remembering the Edgewood Restaurant, the Amenia supper club he and his wife, Anne Phillips, owned and operated together for more than two decades.
At the Edgewood, there were Delmonico steaks George carved in the basement, lobster tails from an infrared cooker, local trout from the stream outside the door, and a folded paper cup of butter, with heaping bowls of family-style potatoes and vegetables, plus a shot glass of crème de menthe to calm the stomach when the modest check arrived after dessert.
It began as a former gas station and tavern called The Narrows, on the road to Sharon, around a switchback east of Troutbeck. It became a roadhouse restaurant for weddings, bar mitzvahs, proms, graduations, birthdays and holidays with relatives. At Easter, New Year’s and Christmas, George and Anne served the food free — customers only paid for drinks as a thank-you for another good year.
It was a different time. Amenia was an isolated dairy farming community, and two large state psychiatric hospitals employed 4,000 potential diners. People needed a friendly neighborhood restaurant run by a local couple who knew everybody. They offered special-occasion favorites: fried chicken, meatloaf, sliced turkey with gravy, pork chops from nearby farms, and fresh white bread baked at 4 a.m. by George.
There was no maître d’. Waitresses, many still teenagers, greeted guests and helped them find a table. Cloth napkins and sturdy white plates sat in a knotty pine dining room that felt more like a family home than a formal restaurant. Large tables down the center accommodated families. George and Anne fed the staff before opening, and everyone ate the same meals served to customers. Everything was homemade classics of the 1950s and ’60s: cold shrimp and cocktail sauce, stuffed mushrooms, veal parmesan, King crab, clams and oysters on the half shell, chopped hamburger steak, French onion soup, fried chicken and pumpkin pie.
George was a tough but fair boss with a quirky sense of humor. Former employee Kevin Rooney, who worked there as a teenager, recalled being served a hot fudge sundae on a sweltering day — only to discover the “ice cream” was Crisco. Revenge came later in the form of a Coke spiked with Tabasco sauce.
George also kept a series of German shepherds — Rinny, Schultz and Dooley — named after a Jonathan Winters routine featuring talking beer steins. The dogs were locked inside at night for security. Tony Robert, another former employee, remembered coming in one day to find Schultz with the seat of someone’s pants in her jaws. When kids tried to sneak into a dance through the bathroom window after the fire marshal had closed the overcrowded place, George put Rinny in the restroom. Problem solved.
Anne also ran a no-nonsense operation. She marked liquor bottles at night so no one would sneak a drink, though the cleanup crew found ways around it, sipping the blackberry liquer instead. Along with cooking and baking everything from scratch, she raised their children in a life closely tied to the restaurant. The bus dropped their daughters off there after school, and one recalled doing homework while the family spent more time in the restaurant than in their nearby home.

After 23 years of long hours — often more than 100 a week — George began stepping back, at times closing the restaurant to recover. He later moved into real estate and Anne opened a successful craft store.
George sold the place in 1972. At one point, it became a lively beer joint and concert venue, featuring local bands, such as Random Concept, Little Village and Good Friend Coyote. When New York lowered its drinking age to 18 — while it remained 21 just across the state line — it drew crowds from Connecticut. Locals called them “Connecticut Rags,” kids with fancy cars who came to dance, drink and sometimes fight, rocking the floors so hard they bounced like a trampoline and shook dust from the rafters.
At closing time, they had to dodge police waiting across the state line. Sometimes Jack Rooney, Kevin’s father and the bartender, drove them home. One morning, Betty Rooney got a call from a worried mother asking if her son was there. “If he’s wearing red tennis shoes,” she said, “he’s asleep on my front lawn.”
The Edgewood also drew actors from the Sharon Playhouse and notable visitors, including Paul Newman, Cole Porter and even Supreme Court justices. George showed silent movies on a sheet in the dining room, and guests could dance to the Les Schulman Orchestra or to George and his brothers, who had their own band.
It served as a gathering place for groups such as the Eastern Artificial Insemination Cooperative and for events like the Knights of Columbus Communion breakfast. Families marked milestones there — including one that celebrated five birthdays at a Palm Sunday brunch in 1970.
Christmas dinner cost $3 and included stuffed olives, roast pig, prime rib, Virginia ham, deep-sea scallops, Long Island duck, creamed onions and, of course, crème de menthe parfait. On New Year’s Eve 1959, dinner was $15 a couple — $7.50 each for all the champagne you could drink.
The venue came to an end when the building burned to the ground in 1985.
The building is gone, but not the memories — the laughter, the music, the meals, and George carving steaks by hand. He lived a century, but the Edgewood, for those who knew it, was timeless.
Next time you’re driving to Sharon and pass the empty, weedy lot with a rusty electric meter, imagine calling George’s old number to make a reservation for a place that lives on in memory.

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D.H. Callahan
Minimalist works by Agnes Martin on display at Dia:Beacon.
At Dia:Beacon, simplicity commands attention.
On Saturday, April 4, the venerated modern art museum — located at 3 Beekman St. in Beacon, NY — opened an exhibition of works by the middle- to late-20th-century minimalist artist Agnes Martin.
Martin, the Canadian-born New York and New Mexico resident who died in 2004, made the kind of ambiguous abstract art that inspires countless imitators and interpreters.
At first glance, most of the pieces in the new show, “Painting Is Not the Act of Painting,” (on display until June 22) are variations on simple lines and grids painstakingly applied by the artist’s own hand using paint and pencil.
Despite their relative simplicity, it took Martin years of rejecting her own artwork to reach this level of pure abstraction. She would often take knives to paintings she didn’t like, literally slashing work that didn’t live up to her expectations. It wasn’t until she was in her 50s that she began making the work she would become known for.
That evolution is reflected in the exhibition’s 24 works.
Dia:Beacon seems like a perfect place for them. The museum is a monument to simplicity. Even the most complicated pieces are abstractions in their own ways. A straight, unpainted plywood wall with diagonal backing by Donald Judd suggests a room under construction. Michael Heizer’s singular ovoid boulder embedded into a gallery wall strikes unease into visitors.
Subtle grids and softly layered lines by Agnes Martin draw the eye at Dia:BeaconD.H. Callahan
Martin’s pieces feel at home here. In the context of such visual, if not conceptual, simplicity, her art seems louder than it might in almost any other setting. Faint blue and peach stripes gain vibrancy when compared with the all-white canvases of Robert Ryman or the large gray mirrors of Gerhard Richter, both a few rooms away. By comparison, the visibly human-drawn lines of pencil or etched-out paint seem almost complicated, and technically masterful.
It’s enough to make you ponder the name of the exhibition, “Painting Is Not the Act of Painting,” pulled from a quote by Martin: “Painting is not making paintings; it is a development of awareness. And with this awareness, your work changes, but very slowly.”
In a world where studio assistants and fabricators contribute to the output of many artists, Martin relished the act of painting. She painted nearly every day of her adult life. For her, the process was an integral part of the work, and it’s hard to look at these pieces without appreciating her hand.
This repetitive study is also demonstrated across the hall in a gallery dedicated to a single work by Andy Warhol. The piece, “Shadows,” is a study of variations on a single subject. Warhol took photos of shadows in his office and, using a silkscreen process, painted them 102 times on identically sized canvases.
Walking into the room, it may seem like the same image repeated. On closer inspection, the canvases vary widely in color and composition. The work suggests that repetition can produce unexpected forms.
Agnes Martin has become enshrined as one of the leaders of the minimalist movement of the 1960s and ’70s. Her work and artistic philosophies have inspired countless admirers. This exhibition displays a selection of important pieces from nearly 50 years of practice.
Robin Roraback
Hunt Library in Falls Village will present a commemorative show of paintings and etchings by the late Priscilla Belcher of Falls Village.
Priscilla Belcher, a Canaan resident who was known for her community involvement and willingness to speak out, will be featured in a posthumous exhibition at the ArtWall at the Hunt Library from April 25 through May 15.
An opening reception will be held from 5 to 7 p.m. on April 25. The show will commemorate her life and work and will include watercolors and etchings. Belcher died in November 2025 at the age of 95.
Christian Allyn, a close friend, said Belcher largely kept her creative work private. “Priscilla was a very private person. She kept her painting and writings to herself and only a few close family members,” he said, noting that she was self-taught.
After Belcher suffered a fall in 2024, Allyn and her neighbor, Gail Sinclair, prepared her home for her return. “During this process is when Gail and I began to uncover the volumes of art that Priscilla did throughout her life,” he said.
Belcher was born in 1930 in the Huntsville section of Canaan, the youngest of 10 children. Her family struggled during the Great Depression. “She could remember the entire family splitting one cabbage for dinner,” Allyn said. Her father died when she was nine.
She graduated from Lee H. Kellogg School, when it was still located at the Hunt Library building, and went on to graduate from Housatonic Valley Regional High School (HVRHS).She married John Belcher, foster son of local landowner Dorothy Haven, and moved in 1952 to a house in South Canaan that Haven gave them, near the South Canaan Meeting house, the “Little Red House.”
Years later, Belcher sold the home to help cover legal expenses for her neighbor, Peter Reilly, who was wrongly accused of killing his mother while a student at HVRHS in the 1970s.
Allyn described Belcher as part of a generation shaped by hardship. “Priscilla was one of the last living examples of the greatest generation,” he said. “Through that struggle, her tenacity and character were formed, which helped shape Canaan and the wider region into what it is today.”
He added that her advocacy ranged from pushing for pollution controls at the Falls Village landfill to calling for reforms in Region One schools. “Her willingness to put her house up to pay for Peter Reilly’s legal expenses, consistent advocacy of pollution controls … and reform to Region One in 2010 led this area into a far better place,” he said.
Belcher worked as a bookkeeper for the Lakeville Journal and Geer Nursing. After 1978, she devoted her time to gardening, documenting local history, refinishing furniture, attending town meetings, supporting people in recovery, and developing her painting and writing.
“She had a very hard life and often upset other people while she was intending to do good,” Allyn said. He recalled a conversation near the end of her life: “She said to me in her last days, ‘You know, I think I went a little too far with what I did in Falls Village,’” referring to her outspokenness. He added that after reflecting, “her entire outlook changed.”
The opening reception will be a celebration of Priscilla Belcher’s life, art, and legacy. All are welcome.
For more information visit www.huntlibrary.org/art-wall
Ruth Epstein
The sounds of Argentine tango and Jewish folk traditions will collide in a rare cross-cultural performance April 25 and 26, when Berkshire’s Crescendo presents the choral program “Stepping Into Song.”
Christine Gevert, Crescendo’s founding artistic director, described the concert as “a world-class, diverse cultural experience” pairing “A Jewish Cantata” with Martin Palmeri’s “Misa a Buenos Aires.”
For Gevert, who was raised in Chile, the program fulfills a passion for bringing Latin American music to the region.
Palmeri will travel to the Berkshires to conduct and accompany his own works in collaboration with Gevert. Born in Buenos Aires, he is not only a composer but also a conductor and pianist known for integrating tango rhythms into classical choral and orchestral forms.
Billed as the biggest concert of Crescendo’s season, “It is not your traditional choral concert,” Gevert said, describing it as monumental. “The two main works on the program are a fusion of sacred, traditional choral music and the dramatic, pulsating rhythms and lush harmonies of Argentine tango. ‘A Jewish Cantata’ is a unique new work that merges Yiddish and Hebrew folk songs with traditional choral writing and Piazzolla-style tango.”
The messages presented go beyond current political ideologies, she said, and are instead universal. She said she commissioned the work to honor her roots and connect to Jewish people.
The performances will feature the Crescendo Chorus, the Manchester Community College Chorus, and Mexican-born soloist Nadia Aguilar, a soprano, scholar and educator.
The two main instrumental soloists are Argentine bandoneon player Rodolfo Marcelo Zanetti and Alexander Kollias, principal clarinetist with the Hartford Independent Chamber Orchestra.
An ensemble of strings led by New York City-based Brazilian violinist Edson Scheid, along with piano performed by both Palmeri and Gevert, will provide the instrumental accompaniment. Palmeri and Gevert will share the conductor’s podium.
Gevert formed Crescendo in 2003 to bring high-level choral music to a region that lacked the offerings found in larger urban areas. The group combines 20 to 30 chamber chorus members with a strong pool of paid professional musicians.
“Stepping Into Song” will take place at 7 p.m. Saturday, April 25, at Trinity Church, 484 Lime Rock Road, Lakeville, and at 4 p.m. Sunday, April 26, at Saint James Place, 352 Main St., Great Barrington. Tickets and workshop registration are available at crescendomusic.org.
Crescendo’s concerts are partially funded by support from the Connecticut State Department of Economic and Community Development, WMNR Fine Arts Radio and NBT Bank.

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