
The author spent a lot of time in August catching largemouth bass, primarily on subsurface flies.
Patrick L. Sullivan
The author spent a lot of time in August catching largemouth bass, primarily on subsurface flies.
I spent August at the old farmhouse on Mt. Riga. Most of the time it was just me. The cousins came and went weekends, and Mom pretty much stayed down at base.
Because I tend to drop things in the morning until I ship some coffee aboard, I took to making it the night before and putting it in one of those big Thermos jugs with a dispenser thingy. If you prime the jug ahead of time with boiling water it really works well. Coffee that goes in the jug at 9 p.m. is piping hot at 6 a.m. This is much better than stumbling around waiting for the ancient percolator to do its thing.
I was somewhat handicapped in the fishing department by two nagging injuries. My right bicep/tricep seems to be permanently sore, as if I decided to bench press 300 pounds all of a sudden, and my right knee hurts when I go up or down stairs, or the equivalent of stairs.
So I did not go out for extended sessions. I confined myself to about half of the lake, simply because I didn’t want to get way the hell out there and have an arm or knee problem.
The Housatonic River is chock full of brown trout, and soon it will be cool enough to target them.Patrick L. Sullivan
I caught numerous fat largemouth bass, and not quite as many and quite as fat smallmouth. Also some surprisingly large perch and two pickerel. No panfish at all, although they were certainly there. And no crappies for the third year in a row.
There was very little surface action. I generally brought two rods, Western and/or Tenkara, one rigged for surface and one for sinking. After I got bored heaving the heavy Bass Vampire around underwater, I’d switch and try a popper or gurgler and some such. Very occasionally it brought something to the surface, such as the time I chucked a big dragonfly pattern and a smallie boiled up from under a lily pad and caught it before it landed.
But for the most part the action was subsurface.
I did not keep anything this year. There is a lady on the mountain who loves any sort of fish and eats them right down to the eyeballs, and I like to indulge her if possible. But her schedule and mine never coincided to the point where a bass could go from net to cooler to kitchen in a matter of hours, and I am not going to try to refrigerate a lunker in our small propane fridge. It wouldn’t work very well and there would be no room for important dietary staples, such as the half dozen bottles of different kinds of mustard, all with less than an ounce remaining, that always accumulate in this setting, by federal law.
I began the month throwing pike flies with a 10 weight, experimenting with wire leaders and different types of short sinking heads, and so on.
But the arm got so sore I dialed down to a six weight Western rod and the lighter side of the fixed-line arsenal, and cheesed the heavy pike flies in favor of standard items such as size 6 conehead Woolies with rubber legs. (Always get the rubber legs.)
Various infirmities meant that the author only made one trip in August into "Snodgrass Gulch," a code name for a favorite brook trout stream.Patrick L. Sullivan
Lake angling was leavened a few times by brook trout hunting in the Riga brook and, more significantly, one trip into Snodgrass Gulch (not its real name).
The latter requires a pretty hefty hike and involves a lot of the motion that hurts the knee, so I was antsy about it.
But the knee didn’t trouble me much, which I attribute to pressing down on dirt instead of something hard like a wooden stair.
So all in all it was a decent month, a little subpar but by no means terrible or disappointing. I’d say the highlight was the improvement in the smallmouth population and the low point was the evening a storm blew up out of nowhere. I went from bobbing around peacefully in the gloaming to getting drenched as the air temperature dropped 15 degrees in as many minutes and fighting a nasty chop in a pontoon boat singularly ill-suited for the purpose.
Dancers from Pilobolus will perform at the NWCT Arts Council spring fundraiser on April 26 in Washington Depot, Conn.
On Saturday, April 26, the Northwest Connecticut Arts Council will host a special evening, Arts Connected, their spring fundraiser celebrating the power of creativity and community. Held at the Bryan Memorial Town Hall in Washington Depot from 5 to 8 p.m., this event brings together artists, performers, and neighbors for a magical night filled with inspiration, connection and joy.
Award-winning designer and arts advocate Diane von Furstenberg and her granddaughter Antonia Steinberg are honorary co-chairs of the event. Their shared love of the arts informs the spirit of the evening.
Antonia Steinberg, above, President of Bucks Rock Camp in New Milford that she first attended as a camper when she was ten years old. Antonia is co-chair, with her grandmother Diane Von Furstenberg of the NWCT Arts Council fundraiser.Provided
“As someone whose life was profoundly shaped by the arts — as a child at Buck’s Rock and now as President of its Board — I’ve seen firsthand the transformative power of the arts; how creative spaces can empower young people, build community, and nurture well-rounded problem solvers. That’s why I’m so honored to co-host the Northwest CT Arts Council Gala. Their work in supporting artists and cultural organizations across Connecticut is essential,” said Steinberg.
Von Furstenberg’s influence in fashion and culture, and Steinberg’s leadership at Buck’s Rock reflect the intergenerational impact of the arts,” said NWCT Arts Council board president Sunday Fisher. “Their participation underscores the power of creative expression as a defining force in our community.” Steinberg is the president of Buck’s Rock Camp, a non-profit performing and creative arts camp in New Milford that she first attended as a 10-year-old camper.
Diane Von Furstenberg, co-chair of NWCT Arts Council fundraiser.Provided
Steph Burr, executive director at NWCT Arts Council, added, “Events like Arts Connected are at the heart of what we do — bringing people together, lifting up artists, and reminding us of the essential role creativity plays in our lives. The Council works year-round to ensure the arts not only survive but thrive across our region.”
NWCT Arts Council is a nonprofit that serves as advocates for the arts. Through regranting efforts, public art support, legislative advocacy, and their regional events calendar, they work to ensure the arts are accessible and celebrated in every corner of their 25-town service area.
Burr continued, “The arts in Northwest Connecticut are vibrant, evolving, and deeply rooted in community. There’s a quiet but powerful creative pulse running through these hills — one that reflects the resilience, diversity, and passion of the people who call this region home. Over the past few years, artists and cultural organizations have navigated challenges with heart and determination, despite ongoing funding volatility. Through our advocacy and collaborative programming, we ensure the arts remain essential and accessible in our community.”
Highlights of the April 26 fundraiser include performances by Pilobolus, Sherman Chamber Ensemble, Ysanne Marshall & the Lotus Blues, hand pan musician Jeremy Driscoll, and a curated art exhibition, NW25 Gallery, featuring local artists. Sponsors Litchfield Distillery, Kent Falls Brewing Company, and Executive Cuisine catering will provide the food and drink.
Ticket prices are $125, open to guests 21 and older, available online at givebutter.com/artsconnected.For more information or to ask about sponsorship opportunities, email Katherine Pelletier at katherine@artsnwct.org or visit givebutter.com/artsconnectedsponsorship.
Arts Connected is made possible thanks to the generous support of sponsors; Antonia Steinberg is sponsoring all the artists for the event and Valiant Energy and Torrington Savings Bank are presenting the event.Additional sponsors include William Raveis Lifestyle Realty, Litchfield Magazine, Housatonic Heritage, Art Bank 7, Harney & Sons Teas, Aquarion Water, The Lost Fox Inn, George Home, NKYV Rituals, and Litchfield Distillery.
Lily Al-Nemri, founder and owner, and artistic director and painter Rudy Vavra at Tyte medispa and gallery in Millbrook.
The painter Rudy Vavra once created floor collages in Texas. You could, in theory, lie on them. Now, years later and much farther north, his work graces the walls of a medispa in Millbrook, New York where he also serves as the artistic director. You can still lie down, just not on the art. Instead, you might be undergoing an EmFace non-surgical facelift while surrounded by twenty-two of Vavra’s paintings.
The space, Tyte Medispa in Millbrook, is equal parts gallery and treatment center, the brainchild of Lily Al-Nemri, a medical aesthetician and now gallery owner. She also owns the nail salon, Bryte, down the street on Franklin Avenue. A few years ago, feeling she was outgrowing that space, she looked to expand and, just a few blocks away, found this rather sprawling maze of rooms with the gallery that now inhabits the grand central ballroom. “This used to be a gym,” she said. “It was way more than I was looking for, but I went for it.”
Vavra, a self-professed “painter’s painter,” has spent decades layering pigment in his barn-turned-studio in Milan, New York. “I find paintings as much as I make them,” he mused. “Some happen quickly, others are slow.” Of this latest collection, he said, “Some people call them busy. I think they’re slow.” His marks accumulate with a kind of devotional persistence, like petals left at a shrine. “A while ago, I saw a photographic image of a shrine,” Vavra said. “I don’t know if it was a Buddhist shrine or what, but there were colors on the ground all around it, and I realized they were the stains of flowers left in the worship. That’s very similar to the way I paint.”
The collection of paintings on view at Tyte — some as large as a shrine — are meditations on color, inviting the viewer to slow down. Or speed up. Whether viewers are activated or soothed by the images is neither Vavra’s intention nor within his control. Still, he said that watching people interact with the work has been a real treat. “Now that I have my paintings here, I get to see them all together,” he said. “It’s only when they’re all together that I see how they talk to each other. It’s interesting to see people come in and go to have a treatment and come out. It’s a very interesting connection.”
And what is the connection? What could be a disjointed pairing — aesthetics and aesthetic medicine — has become, improbably, a perfectly logical continuum. “They’re related in a sense,” Vavra said.
Aly Morrissey
Al-Nemri, a former radiologist who taught for over a decade at Westchester Community College, is no stranger to layering, precision, or the quiet rigor of care. Her incredible menu of services — Botox, body contouring, pelvic floor therapies — are the cutting edge of the industry. Of Vavra, Al-Nemri said, “I fell in love with his work, and we just hit it off.” It’s a kind of kismet that seems to hover over the place. Pilates mat classes take place twice a week in the main gallery space and both Al-Nemri and Vavra have loved watching clients pause, eyes caught by a stripe of cerulean or a vibrating cluster of brushstrokes. “Something will catch their eye,” said Vavra. “They’re looking for something in it.”
So, this gallery-meets-spa (or is it the other way around?) has plans. Vavra will be curating six shows a year. Laurie Adams’s photographs will be hung in June, a group show of local artists will share the space in July and August, and a Fall show will feature twenty women artists, which Vavra is eager to anchor with a piece by Judy Pfaff. “There’s nothing like this on this side of the county,” he said of the light drenched space. “It’s been a bit sleepier here. We want to wake it up.”
He means it kindly; sleep certainly has its place. But here in Millbrook, amid the low drone of machines designed to rejuvenate, something unexpected has emerged. Perhaps that’s what both Al-Nemri and Vavra are really after — not the quick fix or the final image, but the suspended moment, the long look. A face seen anew. A painting revealed slowly, in silence.
As for Vavra’s curatorial process? “I just unpack the paintings, lean them against the wall, and look,” he said. “Eighty percent of the time, they’re already where they’re supposed to be.”