This final piece in the 2025 Plein Air Easton Hall of Fame series is something a little different. It’s a love letter—but not a one-way note. It’s mutual. The artists, patrons, volunteers, and partners being honored this year had plenty to say about the Avalon Foundation staff. And as it turns out, Al Bond had just as much to say about them. So this story isn’t just about the people who’ve helped build the festival—it’s about the people who’ve built it together.

It began, as these things often do, with a conversation. Or rather, with three. First came Patricia Spitaleri and Ross Merrill, then the Troika Gallery crew, and finally, Nancy Tankersley. All of them approaching Al Bond with the same idea: Plein Air Easton. All of them saying, in essence, “This should exist here.” And Nancy, crucially, adding: “I want to help.”

Al Bond wasn’t the originator of Plein Air Easton. But he was the one who saw how to make it happen. He was, at the time, working as Easton’s Economic Development Director—and what he heard in those early pitches wasn’t just a call for another art event. He heard the building blocks of something more: a town-wide effort to create a market for artists, to grow an arts community, to bring people in.

“It was never just about highlighting the deep arts community here—it was about developing it,” Al says.

To do that, he followed a few basic rules. “The first was, anyone who brings something to the table, figure out what they want out of it, and make sure they get it. That could be a venue, visibility, funding, or just a sense of belonging.”

“The second was that the quality of everything matters. It’s not just about the art. It’s the lighting, the presentation, the materials—everything. We wanted to create an environment that showed the work as well as it possibly could.”

“And the third: make the artists happy. If they’re happy, they tell other artists, they talk to patrons, and the whole thing grows. If they’re not happy, none of the rest matters.”

Those weren’t abstract ideas. They became the framework—the bones of the festival. Its structure, its tone, even its spirit, all came out of that way of thinking.

This year’s Hall of Fame nominees are just a few of the people who helped bring those ideas to life. And when you talk to Al Bond about them, it becomes clear: every year, more chairs are added to the circle. What started as a shared idea among a handful of believers has evolved into something far greater—an event with a national reach and deep local roots.

We already knew their stories. What we wanted was Al’s view—from someone who’s been there since the beginning.

Let’s start with Diane DuBois Mullaly, who is the kind of person that Al calls “the ghost in the machine”—one of the volunteers whose steady contributions power the whole engine. She helped organize the very first Quick Draw. “Diane’s been a volunteer, steady and true, from the very beginning,” he says. “And she’s also a really accomplished artist who’s grown with the festival. She’s been both a contributor and a beneficiary.”

Mary and Hall Kellogg didn’t just organize a paint-out on Tilghman Island. They helped everyone else understand why it mattered. It wasn’t just about pretty boats and sunsets, but a disappearing way of life. “They understood how incredibly ephemeral and precarious it all is,” Al says. “They identified the vanishing landscapes before anyone else did—not just the working waterfront, but the farms, the barns, the cultural touch points that make this place what it is.”

The Working Artists Forum was there from the beginning. “At the time, the arts community here was really decentralized,” Al recalls. “There were factions. It took a lot of conversation to get everyone to agree on a shared project. WAF was one of the groups that helped make that happen.” From the start, they insisted local artists have a place in the festival. “They made all the rules, created the gallery space, and did everything to make Local Color a high-quality show. Our role was to reduce barriers.”

Hali and Scott Asplundh didn’t just support Plein Air Easton with their dollars. They supported it with their presence. “They used the event as a gathering point for their whole family,” Al says. “They led by example. And because of them, we have patrons from outside the region who come back year after year.”

And then there was David Grafton. An artist with a national reputation and a small Dover Street gallery where he “held court.” He was a participant, yes, but more than that, he created community. “David brought artists into the fold,” Al remembers. “He helped create the sense that this wasn’t just a competition. It was a professional gathering. A place to talk about the business of being a working artist.”

Troika Gallery, too, was there at the start. They weren’t just idea people; they were solution people. “They came up with those X-shaped panel structures using matte bathroom dividers.” It’s a story that still makes him smile. “We weren’t allowed to touch the walls at the Academy, and Troika found a workaround that looked great and didn’t cost much.”

It was also Troika’s connection to Dan Weiss, then President of the Met, that brought national recognition. “We didn’t know who he was at first,” Al said. “But Troika did. That relationship helped raise the profile of the whole event.”

Al talks about all of them with a kind of grounded admiration. He doesn’t mythologize. He remembers those bathroom dividers. He remembers the small rooms, the early budgets, and the conversations where it could have all gone sideways. And he remembers that it didn’t. Because people showed up. They had good ideas, and he was willing to listen.

He’s quick to point out that the Avalon Foundation’s role wasn’t to own the event, but to support it. “Our approach has always been: if you’ve got something you want to bring to Plein Air Easton, it’s on you to bring it. But if you bring it, we will promote it.”

If you talk to the honorees, they’ll mention the Avalon staff, unprompted. Again and again. They speak of kindness, organization, creativity, and respect. Of how the Avalon Foundation didn’t just provide infrastructure, but an atmosphere. “What we needed was a team that understood event production,” Al says. “The artists already knew about fine art. We knew how to throw a good party.”

It’s no accident that the largest, most respected plein air festival in the country sprang up not in a major city, but in Easton, Maryland. That comes from people like Diane, Marion, Hall, David, Hali, Scott, the members of WAF, Laura, and the gallery owners who thought a little town could handle a big idea. It comes from artists who keep showing up. And it comes from an organization that knew how to make sure that the art—and the artists—shine.

So here, at the end of this year’s Hall of Fame series, it feels only right to close the circle. To recognize not just those whose names are going on the wall, but the people behind the scenes who helped build it. The Avalon Foundation, with Al Bond at the helm, has spent more than two decades not just running an event, but nurturing a community.

“It’s been great to reflect a little,” Al says. “Mostly, we don’t sit around and talk about the good old days. We talk about what’s next. But it’s been nice to look back, too.”

This final piece isn’t just about recognition. It’s about gratitude. A love letter, from both sides of the canvas.

The Avalon Foundation’s Plein Air Easton festival has been collaborating closely with the Academy Art Museum since the event began in 2005, and this year it faced a significant challenge. After years of using the AAM’s galleries to showcase the best of the Plein Air artists’ works, the museum made a strategic decision to keep its art exhibitions open for more extended periods, which made those spaces unable to accommodate Plein Air.

Gulp.

But rather than simply abandoning this long-lasting relationship, Al Bond, the CEO of the Avalon, and Charlotte Potter Kasic, the newly appointed AAM director, found a remarkable solution to not only keep Plein Air at the Academy but also create a new gallery space within its walls.

Through a few brainstorming sessions, Al and Charlotte realized Avalon utilizing professional-level temporary wall panels, temporary wall panels, there would be enough space for a new gallery in the AAM’s hallway and Performing Arts Room on the first floor, allowing Plein Air to maintain an exhibition space for the festival.

In their Spy interview about the new space, Al and Charlotte give a perfect example of creative problem-solving.

This video is approximately five minutes in length. For more information about Plein Air in Easton, please go here. For the Academy Art Museum, please go here.

 

Opening night of the 21st Plein Air Easton Festival on Friday, July 11, marks a holiday on the calendar for local art galleries. Much like the Waterfowl Festival in November, it will be a working holiday to accommodate all the fine-art browsers who will be checking them out during Plein Air week.

There was a time, not so long ago, when Easton had just a couple of framing shops for photographs and copies of paintings, but not a single art gallery until one opened in 1997. You could say the Troika Art Gallery – named for its trio of founders – belongs to the Millennial generation among galleries. Now, in 2025, it is no exaggeration to say that Easton has become an art destination. There are now seven art galleries downtown and another inside a marketplace a few blocks east on Dover Road.

All of them have been gearing up for Plein Air 21. 

The Troika is observing the occasion with its sixth annual “Fabulous Forgeries” exhibit. Member artists of the Troika paint replications of venerable masterpieces with tiny photo copies of the originals next to the “forgeries.” Cash awards go to the top three artists and an honorable mention chosen by a Troika-selected jurist. There’s also a popular-choice prize. But most prominent as you enter the gallery are the large- to medium-scale oils by featured artist Louis Escobedo, ranging from a wintry “Glider,” a bird in flight over a gleaming stream, to what almost qualifies as a “Fabulous Forgery” of a Degas ballerina. Escobedo calls his version “Some Paint and Blue.” 

Further along Harrison Street, past the Tidewater Inn on the right, is the next oldest downtown art gallery, celebrating Plein Air 21 with two popular opening-night features of the past four years. One is “Variations 4.0: 1 Photograph, 14 Paintings” with 14 Trippe Gallery member artists painting their interpretation of a black-and-white image of an Eastern Shore scene. Cash prizes go to the winning entries. There’s also a challenge for Trippe visitors on opening night: Match the artist – several of whom are entered in the Plein Air competition – to the unsigned painting. 

Heading back toward the Avalon Theater – the Foundation sponsors Plein Air Easton – the Zebra Gallery features paintings by Carole Boggemann Peirson, a Dutch-born artist known for her East Coast landscapes, including “A Gorgeous Glimpse,” an oil depicting snow-swept beach dunes with a distant water view. There’s also a flight of fancy with kids riding an airborne turtle in Gabriel Lehman’s “What If?” acrylic, guarded by a pair of basswood giraffes sculpted by Joseph Cotler. 

Just around the corner on Dover, stop by Spiralis Gallery, which formerly cohabited the space that is now the Zebra’s alone. It was an amicable “divorce,” apparently, as both appear to be succeeding separately. The current “Lost and Found” exhibit of “bricolage recuperative art” features brightly colored and imaginative acrylic abstracts by Alma Roberts. On your way to the Spiralis, don’t overlook the TRA Gallery of Talbot resident artists who are not represented by any local gallery. The July show displays paintings by Nancy Lee Davis, Kathy Kopec and Mary Yancey evoking emotional memory scenes, contemporary impressionism and such representational land- and seascapes as “At the River’s Edge.”

Two more galleries beckon in opposite directions – artistically and geographically. Turn right or left on Washington Street. Turning right toward Goldsborough, you’ll encounter some Asian-influenced art at Studio B, where its owner, Betty Huang, was far away – painting in Taiwan when we visited last week. Works on view during Plein Air range from Hiu Lai Chong’s “St. Michaels Harbor” oil painting of sailboats docked at sunset, to “Room With a View,” painted with a sense of humor by Charles Newman in his depiction of a cluttered room with a distant “view”out a tiny window. There might also be a new painting by Huang upon her return from Taiwan.

Taking a left on Washington, you’ll wind up your downtown tour with the most recently opened  Easton gallery. The Zach of the Prager Family Center for the Arts has extended its current gallery exhibit through July 19, which takes it through Plein Air 21. “Eastern Shore Light” marks the first show by Joanne Prager of her photographic prints of captivating landscape and waterview scenes through the year-round seasons between 2021 and 2024. Some would qualify as plein air except that they are not painted. (And, yes, Joanne Prager is married to Paul.)

For one final gallery stop, you might prefer to drive – unless you’re not thoroughly exhausted by that time. (The Market at Dover Street has free parking.) Inside, you can just browse the market or ask for directions to the gallery now filled with color drawings by members of the Botanical Art League of the Eastern Shore. Works on paper by five botanical artists are featured – most of them by the league coordinator Anne Harding. As with most, if not all galleries mentioned above, there’s a meet-the-artists reception – 5 to 7 or 8 p.m. Friday evening, opening night of Plein Air 21 – with light refreshments, including wine and cheese or whatever.

All of that should whet your appetite for the festival to come, including a nocturne paint-in by Plein Air artists following a free opening-night block party on Friday with a live performance of  a radio-style play, “Picture This,” on cordoned-off block Harrison Street. 

THE GALLERIES OF EASTON

Troika Art Gallery, 9 S. Harrison St., troikagallery.com; The Trippe Gallery, 23 N. Harrison St., thetrippegallery.com; The Zebra Gallery, 9 N. Harrison St., thezebragallery.com; Spiralis Gallery, 35 W. Dover St. spiralisgallery.com; TRA Gallery, 41 W. Dover St., talbotarts.org/resources-1; Studio B Fine Art Gallery,  7-B Goldsborough St., stuidiobartgallery.com; Zach Gallery, 17 S. Washington St., zachgalleryeaston.com; The Market at Dover Station Le Galleria, 500 Dover Rd., doverstation.com

Steve Parks is a retired New York arts critic and editor now living in Easton.

 

This article is part of a special series celebrating the 2025 inductees into the Plein Air Easton Hall of Fame. Now in its second year, the Hall of Fame honors individuals, organizations, and patrons whose dedication, creativity, and support have helped shape Plein Air Easton into the nationally recognized event it is today.

David Grafton didn’t talk much about legacy. He wasn’t one to take up a lot of space. But those who knew him understood what he built—not just with his brush, but with the kind of open door that pulled a whole community into orbit.

Dave, who passed away before the pandemic, is being honored posthumously this year for his role in shaping Plein Air Easton and nurturing its early artistic community.

“Dave and I met in Easton,” said artist Stephen Griffin, his friend and gallery partner. “I was in Troika Gallery at the time, and his wife wasn’t in great health. I offered to help out—next thing you know, we were business partners for seven or eight years, running the Grafton Gallery together.”

By the time the two met, Dave had already carved out a place for himself as a painter. He was a big guy with a bigger personality, the kind of person who wanted to talk to everybody, learn their stories, and tell a few of his own. “He grew up in New Jersey, and I was from Philly, but it was wild how much we had in common. We’d been to the same places, had some of the same teachers at PAFA (Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts). He was older than me by maybe 20 years, but it didn’t matter. We just clicked.”

When Plein Air Easton was first being imagined, David was part of the conversation. “It was Nancy Tankersley who went to Al Bond with the idea,” Stephen said, “but Dave was there from the start, in the room, having the meetings, being part of what this thing could be. He had the gallery, he knew the artists in town, and Easton was just starting to become an arts town.”

He didn’t just show up for the big decisions. He made the gallery a kind of home base. “After a long day out painting, people would drift in. It’d be eight o’clock at night, and we’d be sitting around in the gallery with some wine and food, just talking. That’s what Dave did—he created a space where people could connect. Artists from all over the country, and later, the world. It was always welcoming. Always.”

Though Dave only painted in the competition for a few years, his influence ran deeper than the number of canvases he completed. “Everybody calls Plein Air Easton the Ironman of outdoor painting,” Griffin said. “It’s intense. Hot, competitive, nonstop. Dave was older and already respected—he didn’t need to be out there sweating it out every year. But he was still part of it. Always in the dialog. Always supporting the artists.”

He also served as a judge at other regional events, supported local arts councils, and brought a quiet professionalism to everything he did. But for Griffin, it was the personal stories that revealed the most about his friend.

“Dave loved to fish—surf fishing off the Jersey shore, the Delaware Bay, down in Maryland. I love to fish too, so we had all these stories, swapping tales about what we caught, where we went, what we used. And we’d bring our paint boxes too—you’d fish, then you’d paint the day.”

His paintings reflected that life. “What I always admired about Dave’s work was his skies. They told a story without telling too much. There’d be so little there, but somehow it made you feel something. People would come into the gallery and say it. They’d look at one of his skies and just stop. And I could tell them, ‘Yeah, I know where that was. I know the day he painted it. I was there.”

There was also a softness in how Dave related to people. “He loved talking,” Stephen said. “Not small talk. Real conversations. He was just so open. That’s rare. You don’t see that kind of openness in everyone, especially in the art world. But Dave had it.”

He also had pride in where he came from—and where he landed. Cape Henlopen was one of his favorite places to paint, and it turned out Stephen’s father had been stationed there when he was a kid. “We had so many overlaps like that. I knew the places he painted because I’d been there too, as a child. We just understood each other.”

It’s hard for Stephen to remember exactly when Dave passed away. He remembers it being sometime before the pandemic, in that blurry stretch of time that feels both recent and far away. But the imprint he left is still visible. You can see it in the friendships that were born in his gallery. In the artists who keep coming back to Easton year after year. In the way people remember how it felt to walk into that space and be welcomed. There was no big moment, no headline. Just a quiet absence that those closest to him still feel. “Yeah,” Stephen said. “I miss him. We all do.”

He’s not forgotten. His fingerprints are still on the fabric of Plein Air Easton—in the way artists gather after a long day, in the quiet confidence of the work on display, in the gallery spaces that welcome instead of intimidate.

“Dave was never chasing the spotlight,” Stephen said. “He just wanted to paint. And have good people around.”

That turned out to be more than enough.

This article is part of a special series celebrating the 2025 inductees into the Plein Air Easton Hall of Fame. Now in its second year, the Hall of Fame honors individuals, organizations, and patrons whose dedication, creativity, and support have helped shape Plein Air Easton into the nationally recognized event it is today.

It’s always hot. That’s the first thing you remember about Plein Air Easton in July. Artists are sweating on sidewalks and docks, hoping for a breeze or to catch a shadow before it moves. Visitors duck into galleries for a break from the heat, squinting at maps and looking for where to go next. And right there, in the middle of it all, is Local Color.

It doesn’t shout for attention. No big banners, no music spilling into the street. But step inside, and there’s a hum. Artwork by regional artists—some just in from the field, others fresh from the studio—hangs in clean rows. A few visitors linger near the demo table. Someone’s handing out programs. Someone else is asking about a painting. It’s not flashy. But it’s warm. Familiar. Solid.

And it’s been that way for 21 years.

This year, the Working Artists Forum (WAF)—the nonprofit of professional artists who created and continue to run Local Color—is being inducted into the Plein Air Easton Hall of Fame. It’s not just for showing up, though they’ve done that year after year. It’s for building something that lasts.

Founded in 1979, WAF is a nonprofit organization of professional working artists from across the Delmarva Peninsula. Membership is juried, and the group includes painters of all styles, ages, and experience levels. But what unites them is not just a commitment to craft—it’s a commitment to community. That is evident throughout the year, in their monthly programs and exhibitions. But every July, it shows up in full force through Local Color.

Local Color was born in 2004, the same year Plein Air Easton launched. At the time, WAF was seeking a way to showcase its own regional artists during the festival, particularly those who hadn’t been juried into the main event. The idea was simple: create a parallel exhibit—something open to local and regional painters that could run alongside the plein air competition.

Nancy Thomas was there for all of it. A longtime WAF member and former president, she’s been involved in Local Color for over two decades. “Back then,” she said, “we were trying to create a space where local artists could be seen. Plein Air Easton only allowed so many painters, and there were so many others in this area who deserved an audience.”

It all started at the Tidewater Inn, where the first Local Color exhibit was held, marking a beautiful yet slightly chaotic beginning. It was open-entry at first, welcoming any artist from the five Eastern Shore counties. Over time, it became juried.

“We became the ones who had something going on during the day,” said Nancy. “In those early years, Plein Air Easton was quieter during the week because the competition artists were all out painting. So people came to us. We had the demos. We had the energy. We filled the gap.”

Maryellen Lynott is the current Local Color Chair and Vice President of WAF. A painter herself, she manages the details that keep the show running: schedules, artist communications, that massive opening reception, and of course, those demos.

The demos are often standing-room-only. And they’ve become a kind of signature WAF contribution—generous, informative, and volunteer-powered.

“The demos are a huge part of what we offer,” she said. “Every day during the exhibit, we bring in award-winning plein air painters to do demonstrations that are free and open to the public. People love them—whether they’re painters themselves or just curious. It’s a point of access.”

That spirit of sharing—of bringing art directly to the public—runs through everything WAF does. And it extends well beyond the gallery. In recent years, WAF has used the commission proceeds from Local Color to hand-deliver art supply gift cards to art teachers at elementary schools across Maryland’s Eastern Shore.

“For us to be able to come in and offer some support—it means a lot. It’s direct. It’s personal. And it connects us to the next generation of artists,” said Naomi Clark-Turner, the current President of WAF. Naomi joined WAF just a few years ago. She paints both in plein air and the studio and has found the group to be a place of creative support as well as community action.

One of her favorite memories involves the Local Color picnic paint-out—an event where artists gather on the grounds of a local estate to paint, exhibit, and share a meal with the public. “It’s everything I love about this group,” she said. “The painting, the connection, the joy.”

It’s not a one-way street. WAF artists talk often about the warmth they receive from the community—the way Easton greets painters like old friends, whether they’re longtime locals or just passing through. “I was painting on the street one day during a workshop,” Maryellyn said, “and people kept stopping to say, ‘Welcome to Easton!’ I didn’t even tell them I lived on that block—it was just really lovely.”

That kind of welcome isn’t unusual here. Easton has always shown up for its artists. During festival week, that support’s on full display—people open their homes, volunteer at every turn, donate supplies, and fill the sidewalks for Quick Draw like it’s a small-town sporting event.

And it’s in July, when everything WAF does year-round folds into the bigger picture. That’s where the relationship with Plein Air Easton comes in—one built not just on support, but trust.

Maybe that’s why Local Color manages to feel both consistent and fresh. The structure holds: juried entries, daily demos, a big opening night—but the people, the paintings, the tiny unexpected moments? Those shift every year.

Sometimes those moments come with the weather. “Some of the most stunning paintings I’ve seen,” Maryellyn said, “are from rainy days in Oxford. The reflections, the atmosphere—it pushes the artists to capture something different.”

Other times, it’s a matter of grit. “Plein air painting is not for the faint of heart,” Nancy said. “There are bugs, heat, crowds, and ticks.” “Marshes are the worst. Instant bugs,” Maryellyn added.

Even so, the joy outweighs the discomfort. “There’s nothing like it,” Maryellyn said. “To paint outside, to be part of this community, to see the town come alive with art—it’s what keeps us coming back.”

And they do come back—artists, locals, collectors, volunteers. The ones who’ve been showing up since the beginning, and the ones who just found it and don’t want to miss it again.

They come for the art, sure. But they also come for the people, for the rhythm of the week, for the chance to be part of something that still feels a little bit like a small discovery, even after all these years.

Plein Air Easton is a show, yes.

But to WAF, Local Color is also a statement: that art belongs in the hands of the people who live here, and that community doesn’t happen by accident—it happens because people show up.

The Working Artists Forum has been showing up for 21 years.

And now, they take their well-earned place in the Plein Air Easton Hall of Fame. Not with fanfare, but with the same quiet determination they’ve brought since day one.

This article is part of a special series celebrating the 2025 inductees into the Plein Air Easton Hall of Fame. Now in its second year, the Hall of Fame honors individuals, organizations, and patrons whose dedication, creativity, and support have helped shape Plein Air Easton into the nationally recognized event it is today.

When Hali Asplundh first set foot in Easton in the late 1990s, she didn’t expect it to be more than a weekend getaway. She and her husband, Scott, were looking for a second home—a quiet place with water views, some charm, maybe a lovely sunset or two. They came from the Philadelphia area and had already checked out the Jersey Shore, but nothing had quite clicked. Then they visited the Eastern Shore.

“It was in February—Valentine’s Day, actually…,” said Hali. “We drove from St. Michaels down to the ferry dock, and I looked across at Oxford and said, ‘Let’s go over there for dinner.’” The ferry wasn’t running, of course, so they had to drive all the way around. “We ended up at Pope’s Inn Tavern and had this great meal.”

That’s when she opened one of the local booklets you find around the Shore—she can’t remember much else about it, but she remembers the real estate advertisement. “There was this little house in Easton,” she said. “I showed it to Scott and said, ‘We need to go look at that house.’ And then, as Scott likes to say, ‘four months later, we owned it.’”

That house, and the house after that in Oxford, would become the base for years of memories, not just as a retreat, but as a way to connect with the area’s growing community. “Living here made us instantly understand the beauty of the area,” Hali said. “So I started looking for a picture of a sunset, because they’re just so glorious down there, right?”

What started as a hunt for a piece of sunset art to hang on the wall turned into conversations with local gallerists and artists. One of those conversations was with Nancy Tankersley, who mentioned she was working with a group hoping to bring a plein air festival to Easton.

“I thought it was an excellent idea,” Hali said. “I was instantly enamored, and we got involved from the start. We supported it that first year and every year after in one way or another.”

Even though neither of them was an artist, they were captivated by the creative process. They would walk the streets of Easton and Oxford during festival week, watching artists painting in real time. “I love driving down the road and seeing four or five easels in the same spot,” she said. “But every painting is slightly different—the angle, the color, the interpretation. I love that.”

They also loved the feeling of being present for something special—of seeing a piece of the festival take shape right before their eyes. One time, they were having lunch at the Robert Morris Inn when Hali noticed a woman painting on the patio next to them. “She was painting a couple under a big red umbrella—it was a hot day, I remember. She did such a masterful job. I took a picture of her painting, posted it, and later found out it won the grand prize. That was fun to see.”

Though their involvement was never about being seen, the Asplundh name is one many people know, especially in the Mid-Atlantic. Scott comes from a family that built one of the country’s largest tree service companies. It’s not something they ever led with, but in some ways, it fits. A respect for land and the natural world is part of what drew them to the Shore and part of what they’ve quietly supported ever since. They showed up, gave, and helped build the foundation that allowed the festival to grow. “We just adored it,” Hali said. “It’s something we made time for. Scott was always very busy, but he made time for that event.”

That appreciation deepened over time. What began with admiration turned into participation. At some point, they asked if there was a way to get more directly involved in supporting the artists themselves. That’s when they took on the Artist Choice Award—an honor voted on by the painters, and one that Hali and Scott have proudly supported ever since. “It became really dear to our hearts,” she said.

But their support wasn’t just financial—it was part of how they experienced the festival, year after year.”Most of their time during the event was spent in Oxford, where they felt most at home. They often arrived by boat, cruising to opening events or just soaking in the scenes from the water. Hali especially loved how the festival offered access to places most people never see. “That first year I went to an artist opening at one of the farms,” she said, “and I remember thinking what a wonderful way it was to see these hidden parts of the Shore.”

And the more time she spent there—on the water, at the farms, walking the small-town streets—the more closely she began to appreciate the craft of painting. “I remember once asking a local artist during a talk if he thought the light here was different,” she said. “He went off on this explanation about how it’s like a lampshade—the light holds. It’s bright but soft, and reflective in a way that’s hard to describe. He compared it to the south of France. Ever since then, I’ve looked at it through that lens.”

That way of seeing—of noticing things others might miss—stayed with her, even as their visits became less frequent. Scott’s health has kept them away in recent years, but their connection to the place hasn’t faded. They still own their home in Oxford, and Hali hopes to return soon, possibly with her daughter. “It’s kind of a cherished memory for us now,” she said.

She was surprised and touched when she received the call about the Hall of Fame honor. “I thought that was quite nice, actually,” she said. “Whether we were in the Hall of Fame or not, we would have continued to support it. We love it.”

And that love—for the light, the water, the land, the trees, and the art that emerges from it—has become part of Plein Air Easton’s story. Not everyone who shapes a festival picks up a brush. Some simply stand back, quietly, year after year, and make it possible for others to paint what they see.

This article is part of a special series celebrating the 2025 inductees into the Plein Air Easton Hall of Fame. Now in its second year, the Hall of Fame honors individuals, organizations, and patrons whose dedication, creativity, and support have helped shape Plein Air Easton into the nationally recognized event it is today.

Diane DuBois Mullaly was out painting when she got the call. She was standing at her easel at Wade’s Point Inn, in the middle of a plein air painting, when Al Bond phoned to tell her she’d been selected as one of this year’s Hall of Fame honorees.

“I was astonished,” she said. “I knew that my name had been submitted the year before, and I thought, well, maybe someday—but I didn’t expect it this soon.”

It was a full-circle moment. Not just because she’s been juried into Plein Air Easton ten times. Not just because she’s painted the landscapes of the Eastern Shore for more than two decades. But because she’s been part of the event since day one, quietly shaping the experience for artists and audiences alike.

In 2005, Diane was part of a small group of local artists who met at Coffee East, a café in Easton, every Friday morning. One morning, Nancy Tankersley came in to tell them about a new plein air festival being organized by the Avalon Foundation. She was looking for volunteers.

“I really wanted to meet all the artists coming to town,” Diane said. “I just put my name and email address on a piece of paper.” A few days later, she got an email: “Thank you for volunteering to co-chair the Quick Draw.”

Her response: “What’s the Quick Draw?”

She soon found out. Nancy brought Diane and co-chair Cliff Fleener to South Street Art Gallery and showed them a slideshow from a similar event in California. From that model, they were tasked with designing Easton’s own version.

“Cliff was very gregarious and great on the ground. I was quieter and studious,” she said. “So I went home and wrote a full outline—how I thought it should work. A timeline, logistics, and boundaries. I emailed it to Nancy and Al Bond. We went back and forth and refined it. But that basic structure? They’re still using it today.”

Diane also credits Cliff with the three-part sales ticket system that is still in use. “He came up with this really ingenious design and brought the giant roll of tape,” she said. “He marked where the artists would set up, made sure we had an air horn, a tent, water to give away—he figured out all the stuff on the ground so I could paint that day.”

Diane’s path to plein air painting had its own kind of quiet beginning. She’d studied at Tyler School of Art at Temple University but hadn’t worked in oil until she moved to the Eastern Shore in 2002. Something about the light, the landscape, the wide-open spaces—she couldn’t stop thinking about painting them.

“For Christmas, I asked my husband for a set of oil paints,” she said. “And then I didn’t open them. I was terrified. I had painted in oil in college, but it had been so many years. I was just so intimidated by the thought of doing what I wanted to do most.”

Eventually, late one night, she opened the box.

“I read the instructions. I tried painting. And it went much better than I expected.”

She started studying with artists who came through the area—Camille Przewodek and Tim Bell (now Tim Beal). She also worked for Nancy at South Street Art Gallery and joined workshops led by Nancy. Before long, she was entering plein air events. And then she was accepted. Ten times over.

In Easton, where there’s no shortage of art events or galleries, Diane believes Plein Air Easton stands apart because of the energy and immediacy it brings.

“It’s very interactive,” she said. “Because the art is being created on site, it’s kind of like a spectator sport. People can find the artists, talk to them, and see the work in progress. That’s different from other festivals, where the art is already complete and hung in an exhibit.”

For Diane, that connection is everything. She’s had countless people walk up to her while she’s painting, curious and engaged. And just as many who connect emotionally with the finished work.

“What’s really great is when your art touches someone,” she said. “Seeing a familiar scene through the artist’s eyes makes it fresh for them, and they fall in love with it. That is really gratifying.”

She’s also formed lasting friendships with other competition artists—people she never would have met if not for the festival—the kind of friendships that start in a tent, over lunch, or while waiting for a painting to dry in the heat.

But more than anything, she keeps coming back to the atmosphere of generosity.

“There’s a kindness that flows through the event,” she said. “The kindness of the volunteers, the kindness of the Avalon staff, the kindness of the artists to the spectators and each other. It’s the host families. It’s just amazing. It’s a giant act of goodwill.”

For Diane, it’s been deeply personal. From volunteering to painting to mentoring younger artists, she’s been involved in every layer of the experience. Her work helped lay the foundation, and her presence helped nurture the culture.

“I’ve been there since the start,” she said. “And to see how it’s grown, how it’s evolved—but still stayed connected to what it was at the beginning—it means a lot.”

That beginning included spreadsheets and sketches, sales ticket mockups, and air horn checklists. It included stepping into roles without knowing what they’d become, an unopened box of paints, a quiet decision, and a willingness to try.

This summer, Diane DuBois Mullaly joins the Plein Air Easton Hall of Fame. And for those who know what she’s given—on canvas and off—the honor speaks for itself.

Ordinarily, the closest you can get to world-class opera in Easton – or anywhere on the Eastern Shore – is taking in a Metropolitan Opera live simulcast Saturday matinee at the Avalon Theater. But on this Independence Day weekend, one of the hottest young American tenors will be in concert, solo at the Ebenezer Theater as part of the Gabriela Montero at Prager concert season. 

Michael Fabiano, sometimes referred to as the high-flying tenor superstar, is not just because he’s performed in leading roles at opera houses all over the world. In his free time, Fabiano chills by flying small aircraft in or around New York City, near his native Montclair, New Jersey. 

Among the many classic arias he has performed in his more mature post-2016 career – Fabiano turned 41 in May – are from his debut with the Royal Danish Opera in Verdi’s “Requiem” and the title role of Faust with the Houston Grand Opera. He’s also performed several roles with the Metropolitan Opera, including Rodolfo in “La Boheme” and Alfredo in “La Traviata,” as well as his highly acclaimed interpretation of Lensky in Tchaikovsky’s “Eugene Onegin” at the Royal  Opera Covent Garden. 

  These are among many pieces he may perform in his solo debut at the Ebenezer on Saturday night. Or he might polish up on the role of the Duke in Verdi’s “Rigoletto” from his 2018 Los Angeles Opera debut. 

  In a recent interview with Opera World, Fabiano reserved his highest praise for Verdi as, perhaps, his favorite composer. Responding to a recent review that called him a “True Verdi Tenor,” Fabiano said that Verdi’s operas are “medicine for the voice.” Speaking as if Verdiwas still alive and writing music, he added: “He’s a centralizing composer for a large-voiced tenor” – implicitly referring to himself. 

Earlier in his career, Fabiano won both the prestigious Beverly Sills and Richard Tucker awards, the first singer to have achieved that double feat in the same year, 2014.

Pianist Bryan Wagorn will accompany Fabiano for the Easton recital. Gabriela Montero, a Venezuelan-born keyboardist, is the namesake host of the series.

***

Coming up later this month on the classical music calendar, The Birch Trio’s “Time Travels” will take you as far back as Haydn – with 100-plus symphonies to his credit as well as myriad chamber concertos – on up to contemporary composers James Cohn, Valerie Coleman and others, with a nod in between toward Romantic classical pieces.

The trio of music professionals – all residing on the Easton Shore – comprises Ashley Watkins on flute, Nevin Dawson on violin and viola, and Denise Nathanson on cello. Together, they’ll perform in concert on July 19 at the Dorchester Center for the Arts in Cambridge and on the 20th at Easton’s Christ Church.

TENOR MICHAEL FABIANO & A SHORE TRIO

Solo performance in the Gabriela Montero at Prager concert series, 7:30 p.m. Saturday, Ebenezer Theater of the Prager Family Center for the Arts, Easton. Piano accompaniment by Bryan Wagorn. bluepoint.hospitality.com 

The Birch Trio, 7 p.m. Saturday, July 19, Dorchester Center for the Arts, Cambridge, and 4 p.m. Sunday, Christ Church, Easton. dorcchesterarts.org, eventbrite.com

Steve Parks is a retired New York arts critic now living in Easton.

 

 

 

This article is part of a special series celebrating the 2025 inductees into the Plein Air Easton Hall of Fame. Now in its second year, the Hall of Fame honors individuals, organizations, and patrons whose dedication, creativity, and support have helped shape Plein Air Easton into the nationally recognized event it is today.

Before Plein Air Easton was anything more than a spark of an idea, Laura Era was already saying yes.

Yes to the idea of Easton as an arts town. Yes to a fledgling plein air festival. And when developer Timothy Dills—who owned Talbot Town Shopping Center and had helped Troika Gallery find its footing—asked whether he should back this unknown thing with actual money.

“We told him, yes,” said Laura, “My gosh, yes.”

Troika was already established then, a fine art gallery run by three professional artists—Laura, Jennifer Heyd Wharton, and Dorothy Newland. When the idea of Plein Air Easton started taking shape, Laura and her partners did what they’ve always done: they showed up.

There were planning meetings, early judging panels, and community conversations about what this could be. Troika even helped sponsor one of the very first awards. “It was a Troika Gallery award… I forgot what the category was—it could have been for Best New Artist or something like that,” she said. There were also the Sunday auctions at private estates, figuring out logistics late into the night, only to be up again at the crack of dawn, making it all happen. “We did what had to be done,” she says. “It was a lot of work.”

However, if you’re picturing clipboards and spreadsheets, think again. Laura’s memories of those early years aren’t just about logistics—they’re also about stories. Like the time a local homeowner stood up in the middle of an auction and confronted a bidder trying to buy a painting of her house. She had a cane. She made it clear: this was her estate, her painting, and she wasn’t leaving without it.

“She walked over to the person outbidding her, like the Grim Reaper,” Laura said, laughing, “and said, ‘I am bidding on that painting.’ And this poor man… he just kind of folded.”

But that’s part of it, too. Plein Air Easton has always had moments like that. The kind you don’t forget. The kind you’re still laughing about twenty years later.

Back then, Troika also hosted exhibitions of the judges’ work. Kenn Backhaus and West Fraser were among the first. The gallery was where things were happening—it was a hub, a backdrop, a resource. When Laura heard that the Avalon team was looking for a judge for the 15th anniversary, she suggested Dr. Dan Weiss, then President of the Met Museum in New York. He came. He judged. “That was a big coup, and now that he’s retired to the Shore,” she said, “he keeps showing up—most recently to judge Troika’s ‘Fabulous Forgeries’ show.”

Like everything else on the Eastern Shore, Plein Air Easton has grown. What started as a few days in one town has become a sprawling, multi-location event stretching across counties. The artists go to Oxford, Tilghman, and St. Michaels. There’s more art, more collectors, more energy. And yes, many more galleries.

“At first we were the only ones,” Laura says. “Then they started popping up, and we wondered—are we creating competition for ourselves?”

She smiles when she says it.

Troika has always played the long game. Laura never set out to be the “plein air gallery”—her artists are landscape painters, portrait artists, and sculptors. Some do plein air; some don’t. But they’re all serious professionals. And Troika, for 28 years now, has been a place for serious art.

It started with three artists and the idea that Easton deserved a proper fine art gallery. They brought in other artists they admired—about fifteen to start—and built a reputation on quality. Dorothy passed away a few years ago. Jennifer moved to South Carolina. Laura now runs it on her own, with help from her gallery manager, Peg. They represent over 40 artists.

“We’re just about fine art,” she says. “Not just plein air.”

Still, she knows what plein air brings to the town. The immediacy. The sense of occasion. The magic of seeing a painting that was made just hours before, fresh from the easel. “You capture the moment, the feel,” she says. “And hopefully the viewer connects enough to open their wallet.”

That combination—the energy of the artists and the willingness of the community to support them—is part of what makes Plein Air Easton unique. The volunteers, the venues, and the patrons who open their homes. And then there is the Avalon Foundation’s attention to detail— the steady hand of leadership from Al Bond, Jessica Bellis, and the team behind the scenes.

“They’ve done a phenomenal job,” Laura says. “I can’t say enough good about them.”

When Al called to let her know she’d been selected for the Hall of Fame, Laura wasn’t sure what to say. There’s a long history here—long memories, long hours, long friendships—and it’s not easy to sum up what all of that has meant.

But the recognition matters.

“In my opinion,” she says, “we were definitely worthy. And we are very humbly pleased.”

The truth is, without people like Laura Era, there might not have been a Plein Air Easton. There certainly wouldn’t have been one with this kind of foundation—this kind of credibility—this kind of heart.

Easton has changed. The festival has grown. But Troika is still here, holding the door open. Still saying yes.