UCLA Journal of Radiation Oncology FALL 2024 and ANNUAL REPORT - Flipbook - Page 10
DREAMSCAPES
KIM MATTHEWS WHEATON
I 昀椀rst encountered Kim Matthews Wheaton’s paintings in
the late 1990s, when I was hired for my 昀椀rst “real” summer
job at the local Museum and Art Center, a beautiful space
completely renovated by funds raised by then-director,
Terry Mulkey. This space was pivotal for Wheaton—she
was exhibiting small paintings of barns in decay but saw
the large moveable walls of the gallery as an opportunity to
create very large-scale landscapes of Eastern Washington.
And, with Terry’s ardent enthusiasm, she painted her 昀椀rst
series of large landscapes for a solo show and never looked
back.
blooms di昀昀erent hues of green throughout the seasons,
wild 昀氀owers mainly in purples and yellows. And, too,
the volcanic rock and deep, glacial-blue lakes in coulees.
There is so much beauty in any hike, in any look out any
window. Although Wheaton’s paintings are not only of
Eastern Washington, when painting from this landscape,
her work encapsulates the region more accurately and
precisely than any other painter. The feel of her work is to
be in that space in a speci昀椀c moment in time, the cold or
the heat so poignant it is to be there again. Too, in person,
it is easy to lose oneself in the deep horizons.
I attended high school in Eastern Washington and the
landscape my parents moved our family into was at 昀椀rst
overwhelming: a sky large enough to take over all else,
and what was beneath was termed “scablands” by early
settlers. But the “scablands” hold many nuances: basalt
pillars covered in yellow and orange lichen, sage that
“I don’t have a speci昀椀c plan; I just love the process,”
Wheaton tells me. “I want my paintings to look like
paintings and not copies of the landscape I’m looking at.”
And this alone is enough to begin our conversation. But
let me pause and go back a decade to when I visited her in
her Eastern Washington painting studio. She had about
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