Welcome to the Souterrain Gallery
a dependance of The Wish House
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With our new expanded space of the Souterrain Gallery we are aiming to ad a more public exhibit space , meeting place & venue for a variety of concepts to Cornwall in particular West Cornwall's town center that with the Covered Bridge and bucolic setting is a natural attraction for visitors from near and far.
The Space is to convey what a segment of Cornwall is all about, Art and Art on all levels.
We hope and wish to exhibit works by our vast variety of area artists to share their love and pride of inhabiting this part of the world.
Please enjoy!
Souterrain Gallery Hours: Thursday - Sunday 11:00 - 5:00 

Madeline Stenson                 Deluge
August 11. - September 23. 2018
In this body of work, Madeline Stenson works primarily with pen/gel pen, pencil, colored pencil and marker on paper. Madeline is attempting to visually organize her feelings of anxiety, fear, stress, and depression through making these line drawings. At the same time, producing these works is highly meditative for her. The organized chaos of line-work function as a documentation of the artist’s thought process. Madeline wants to continue exploring how detailed lines and maze-like patterns can abstractly symbolize feelings of anxiety and still seem controlled when taken in as a whole image.
 
Madeline is an artist from Torrington, CT where she has a studio through the Five Points Launchpad. She graduated from the University of Hartford in 2017 with her BFA and a major in Sculpture and currently works as the Program Coordinator for the Northwest CT Arts Council.

Recent Exhibit:

 Peter Joslin Trout Markings and Landscapes  

​Trout Markings and Landscapes
The origins of this show were small oil studies based on the extraordinary markings on
brook trout (Salvelinus fontinalis.) These markings, both random and ordered, include
vermiculation, parr marks, spots, and halos. The color is rich and varied and ranges
from black to brown, ochre, moss green, blue and red. Fontinalis comes from the Latin
for “of a spring or fountain”, a reference to the clear, cold water of its native habitat.
These studies led to a six-year exploration of this subject in oil and watercolor. Coupled
with this, my work based on landscape has been ongoing and some are included in this
show.
The work is modest in scale to promote intimate examination and reflection. The
watercolors in this exhibition are intentionally unframed to enable the viewer to see the
immediacy of the medium first-hand.
I grew up in Connecticut, fishing and exploring brooks and streams. In 1993 I moved to
northern Vermont, in close proximity to the Green Mountains and the National Forest.
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“Then, at the bottom of a small chute, I caught a nice brook trout. This is not the most
common trout in Montana and, while its introduction was long ago, its accustomed
venue is elsewhere. It is a wonderful thing to be reminded of the variety of beauties
displayed in the quarry of trout fishermen. You want to cry, as a local auctioneer does at
the sight of a matched set of fattened yearlings, “My, oh my!” The brook trout has a silky
sleekness in the hand that is different from the feel of any other trout. Browns always
feel like you expect fish to feel; rainbows often feel blocky and muscular; but the brook
trout exists within an envelope of perfect northerly sleekness. He is a great original, to
be appreciated poetically, for he is not a demanding game fish. Some of the most
appalling arias in angling literature are directed at this lovely creature, who was with us
before the ice age.”
—Thomas McGuane, Fishing the Big Hole
“Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them
standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the
flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their
backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and
mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep
glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.”
—Cormac McCarthy, The Road