BRATTLEBORO — Several months after Linda Marcille's artwork disappeared from the Latchis Theatre, the artist has no idea where her painting, “Headed to Town,” is, or what would motivate someone to steal an easily identified piece of original art.
Whether it was a misguided act of art appreciation, or a theft by someone who has a thing for vintage Volkswagens, or an act of sheer economic desperation, the theft represents as much a violation of trust as it does the loss of the artist's property.
“I am heartbroken that someone took it,” Marcille said.
The fine-art painting on silk was among the collection of 18 of her pieces displayed at the Latchis through April and May.
The 24-inch-by-18-inch piece, valued at $595, shows two 1970s-era Volkswagens - a light-blue Beetle and a VW bus - chugging up and down the hills along the back roads and villages of Vermont amid the vibrant fall foliage.
“It's such a joyful painting,” Marcille said. “My first car was a blue 1970-something Super Beetle. It has some history for me.”
The painstaking, labor-intensive process - described on the artist's website, www.crowhousestudio.com, as “an ancient Asian art form” - involves steaming dyes into the fabric and artistically controlling the process with a resist, a substance that chemically repels the dyes, controlling how and where they ultimately appear in the fabric.
Marcille said a client commissioned her to create her first painting as an anniversary present for his wife, a Volkswagen fanatic. The artist said she was so pleased with the first completed painting that she made the larger version.
She hung the exhibit on short notice to substitute for another planned exhibit, and the Latchis asked permission to keep the paintings on display for an additional month.
She said her husband, Don, and a helper dismantled the show in June, and by the time she went to enter the piece in a juried art show in Newfane, several weeks later, her piece was nowhere to be found.
Sure enough, she said, the piece was never returned from the Latchis.
“Whoever took it was pretty smart,” she said. “The painting was on the end of the row. [Removing] any other painting would have left a glaring hole on the wall. Nothing appeared to be missing.”
The thief also took the tag with the title and price of the artwork, making its absence even more inconspicuous.
Marcille, who describes herself as “reclusive,” has been apprehensive about formally reporting the theft.
“I didn't want to be the cause of people not showing work at Gallery Walk,” she said. “And the thought of calling the police was intimidating. I just hoped that magically, someone would put it on my porch - no questions asked.”
Furthermore, Marcille remains supportive of the Latchis and of the collaborative relationship she has had with the organization. In 2008, Gail Nunziata, executive director of the Brattleboro Arts Initiative, the nonprofit organization that owns and manages the historic theater and hotel, helped Marcille, who lives with advanced neurological Lyme Disease, organize an exhibit for her Lyme Awareness Art Project.
But more fundamentally, the artist said, she didn't want to believe someone took the painting and held out hope that it had accidentally been left behind or misplaced.
At their own risk
Little could be done for Marcille, said Nunziata.
“It's appalling that people could do that,” she said.
The theft was a first for the organization, whose insurance could not cover the loss because the value of the piece did not meet the deductible.
The Latchis has rotated artwork monthly in the main theater since June 2008. The art hangs on 18 acoustical panels “that were just sitting there being acoustical,” Nunziata said.
The theater hosted a special exhibit of large photographs of Andy Warhol that ran concurrently with a display of Warhol's work across the street at the Brattleboro Museum and Art Center in 2004. “After that came down, it looked empty,” she said.
Nunziata then issued a call to artists, inviting them to take turns displaying their work in the theater.
And they do so at their own risk, she said.
“We try to make it clear [to artists] that there are certain risks involved, and people have to take a leap of faith,” Nunziata said. “And with 99 percent of the leaps you land just fine. For the most part, people are good.”
Nunziata concedes that “we have been very informal about this program.”
“We give them hooks, a hammer, a stepladder if they need it,” she said. An artist taking down his or her work at the end of one month often interacts and cooperates with the artist bringing new work to hang.
“We here just sort of let it run itself,” she said. “If people ask about the security or insurance, we talk to them about it.”
“We really want to keep [the program] as community spirited as it is,” she noted.
Lost and found
Deborah Lazar, a Putney graphic designer and photographer who has been painting still lifes, found herself in a similar situation in 2008.
A 12-inch-by-16-inch oil painting, “Quince in a Glass Vase,” disappeared, gold frame and all, from an exhibit of her work at Amy's Bakery Arts Café on Main Street.
“It was only up for three days. It didn't even make it to Gallery Walk,” said Lazar, who instigated a “big PR push to try to find it.”
“As an artist, I give so much of myself in my work, and having this painting stolen just makes it very hard to keep going and now here I've even lost the opportunity to show this painting,” Lazar wrote on her blog, www.artworking.blogspot.com, at the time.
For Lazar, her story has a happy - if bizarre - ending.
The painting turned up in a coffee shop in South Hadley, Mass., commingled with other still lifes. A friend visiting the shop to retrieve some her own artwork after the sale of the café saw the painting on a shelf and recognized it as Lazar's stolen work.
The quince blossoms returned to Putney only a little worse for wear.
The bakery compensated Lazar from insurance, Lazar said, pointing out that she intends to return the money now that she has her work.
In hindsight, Lazar said, she learned that if you're an artist, “you really should carry your own insurance.”
But she doesn't - “how stupid is that?” she said with a laugh, noting that she's “painting, not showing” these days in an attempt to focus on creativity and building technique.
“The showing will come,” she said - along with the insurance.
In the meantime, Lazar is still seeking information about the painting's 50-mile-plus journey.
Hope for return
Marcille still hopes that someone will return the piece to her porch - at 52 Belmont Ave. - or take it to Vermont Artisan Designs on Main Street, which represents her and sells her work.
Since the theft, she said, other artists in town have told her she has “made it into a club” of those whose work has been stolen.
Marcille has posted pleas to the community on iBrattleboro, and a message has circulated recently on her blog (paintingsonsilk.blogspot.com) and on Facebook seeking the return of the piece.
With the publicity, Marcille doubts the thief could display the art locally and not have it recognized, she said.
But hurt as she is, the artist still feels conflicted by the thought of having a piece stashed away and not bringing people the joy she intended.
“Even if you stole it, I'd rather it be hung and be seen than have it hide in the closet,” she said.