Linda Etherington, “Kindness is More,” 36 x 48 in.

Given so many bad stories and ill-will in our national conversation these days, it’s easy to overlook those artists who still want to share their by-no-means-universal appreciation, and even gratitude, for the positive works they witness and the good lives they enjoy, but do not presume to feel entitled to. Linda Etherington is someone who brings a well-filled brush and a fluid wrist to consecrate someone possibly not unlike herself in “Woman Glorified God and Believed.” Anyone inclined to hurry past her artwork should probably take note of two things: the subject’s well-captured, visible discomfort at being observed and the painter’s unconventional notion of what belongs in a painting. True modesty on the one hand, and words on the other. Not just any words, nor necessarily those we’d expect.

In “Sipping Sweetness While Humming A Duet,” six wings collaborate to create the music. In “Kindness is More,” branches from unseen trees lead the viewer to encounter more than one act of sharing. And in “Balancing on Blueberries,” a table’s rim rises up to set the stage for a skillful songbird. Not every painter learns these devices, or wants to, but the ability to direct attention without calling it to one’s efforts celebrates what the artist has seen in nature rather than misdirecting attention to her. A Delft-blue teapot employed as home for a flowering plant reveals a parallel between two pots in a way that delights the eye, but when a bird and a bee share the nectar, their discovery pleases the ear as well.

That’s not to say that Etherington conceals her presence or hides the evidence of her art making. She remains, rather, in the zone where the images our eyes seek and the marks she makes come close to being the same. It does not aspire to a photographic effect, but it’s quite a balancing act. It might well be styled the “emergence,” though whether of nature or art depends on which way a viewer chooses.

There’s a great deal of such craft and charm among the colorful figures limned in these domestic narratives, which mean to find a path between, on the one side, nature red in tooth and claw, and, on the other, man’s inhumanity to man. Speaking of stories, a few words of each having found their way onto the canvas serve as an invitation to share by imagining the voice of the Narrator, or possibly some of the dialogue among them. Signposts are another traditional role of art.

Linda Etherington can be found in the Avenues, at the signpost of David Ericson Gallery.

Linda Etherington & Rebecca Klundt, David Ericson Fine Art, Salt Lake City, through Apr. 15

Geoff Wichert

Geoff Wichert objects to the term critic. He would rather be thought of as a advocate on behalf of those he writes about.