Senior artist still breaks molds

Janice Barnhart comes from a long line of artists and rule breakers.

Janice Barnhart comes from a long line of artists and rule breakers.

The 68-year-old Whitefish artist traces her heritage to the Puritan painter known as Benjamin Way the Dissenter. His words on his death bed in 1680 reflect a mantra that has served Barnhart well.

"I thank God that I did not submit to the burden of conformity," Way said.

And neither has Barnhart. Widowed with six children early in life, the artist overcame the odds to earn a comfortable retirement with freedom to pursue the art that enriches her soul.

At the Montana Senior Apartments, Barnhart has converted her one-bedroom unit into a contemporary art studio and gallery. Oils, pastels, ceramics, sculpture and jewelry cover the walls and kitchen counters.

She watches deer wander in the shadow of Big Mountain outside her living room window. Her art hangs in the complex's community room, open to the public from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. each day.

"This is the most glorious place I could ever be," she said with a smile. "The manager here is so open."

For eight hours each day, Barnhart creates in the company of Cathy and Jake the cats and Alma the cockatiel. She approaches her goal of putting the final polish on a body of 600 works she needs for her doctorate.

"It's a goal," she said. "Also, for my family, I want to show them you can do anything."

An advanced degree provides a broader platform to display her works. A series of female figures, called "The Titans," reflects the message she realized she needed to express after a transforming stay in Europe in the '90s.

Barnhart said she found out who she really was. She said "foo foo" landscapes gave way to expressionistic renderings of her inner consciousness.

"I'm a very strong woman," she said. "I've got a lot to say and I have a vehicle to say it with."

Along with "The Titans" oils, Barnhart also creates sculpture that speak to her struggles as a woman swimming against a male tide. One features a tangle of naked Barbie dolls which she fired a shotgun through and mounted and painted on a mirror.

She described her children's reaction to some of these fierce images in her works.

"They say, "Mom why don't you do some nice landscapes," she said with a laugh.

Although Barnhart discovered a strong woman within herself, she admits she was scared most of the time during her years of struggle.

It started after her husband was killed in a logging accident in Washington. The couple had six children and had just purchased a farm in Ellensburg.

With just $325 a month coming in from Social Security, Barnhart knew she had to find a way to make more money.

Instead of learning to type, she put on a helmet and earned a degree in welding technology. In the '70s, she joined a spearpoint of women piercing the armor protecting the well-paid, male-dominated crafts.

"You cannot believe how hard it was," she said. "It was horrible to break into nontraditional work and keep your children safe."

Barnhart joined the plumbers and pipefitters guild, even becoming a steward. She worked at a nuclear power plant, Boeing and then at the shipyards after qualifying to Navy welding standards.

She persisted for 19 years at her craft. Her helmet still hangs in a place of honor on her apartment wall.

According to Barnhart, things didn't improve for women on the job. She said she went from novelty status in the '70s to the object of derision and sexual harassment in the decades that followed.

She turned to art as an escape and an outlet for her frustrations.

"That's when I started getting degrees in art," she said.

Barnhart sought her master's degree at the University of Washington. As part of her studies, she spent a year in England where she rented a studio in Suffolk and studied the muralist Vanessa Bell.

She recalled taking her work to a contemporary art show in London. The critiques she received from participating artists made a profound impact on her future.

After retiring at 65, Barnhart moved to Idaho and dove into creating a body of contemporary, figurative work for her doctorate degree. She explained that all the pieces must exhibit extreme originality.

The artist suffered a devastating blow when three of her principal pieces were stolen.

"It destroyed my point of reference," Barnhart said.

After a fruitless effort to recover her paintings, she decided to move on, mentally and physically, to Great Falls, where her daughter lives. Barnhart was searching for an apartment that accepts pets when she discovered Montana Senior Apartments.

She took one look and made an instant decision to move to Whitefish.

Things were looking up when Barnhard fell just before her move and broke her wrist. Instead of getting depressed, the artist wrapped duct tape on her wrist and hired someone to help her move.

Once in Whitefish, Dr. Michael Righetti patched up her wrist, which she now exercises by making jewelry along with painting.

"You can't avoid tragedy," Barnhart said. "You just have to wade through it."

The artist said she had never felt more alive than she does now in her senior years. She said was always happy but now life doesn't interfere with the pursuit of her dreams.

"Everybody should realize they have potential and come to grips with that potential," Barnhart said. "They need to say 'I am, I am - I am here right now and I can do it.'"

Reporter Candace Chase may be reached at 758-4436 or by e-mail at cchase@dailyinterlake.com