Jenny Scheu and Tom Ryan have a mother-son exhibit at Cove Street Arts in Portland. The two worked on their art during the pandemic while on opposite sides of the country: she in Maine and he in California. Gregory Rec/Staff Photographer

Growing up in Maine, Tom Ryan spent a lot of hours in his mom’s office. Jenny Scheu had a small architecture practice, and her son was always surrounded by 3D models and blueprints.

Years later, they shared studio space, where they both developed their styles as artists. Scheu focuses on printmaking and painting, and Ryan works in painting and sculpture. For a decade, they even lived just a couple blocks from each other in Portland.

But a few years ago, Ryan moved to Los Angeles for a master’s in fine arts program.

From opposite coasts, mother and son developed their first joint exhibition, which is on view at Cove Street Arts through Jan. 11. They did not set a theme or a prompt or any parameters at all for the show. Instead, “Lateral Passage” naturally reflects their shared interests even as they made very different work with thousands of miles between them.

“It was more interesting to me to see where it would take us than to try to put a bow on it in some way,” said Ryan, 34. “There’s already a lot of collaboration that’s happened in this relationship. So let’s just show up and see how it works together.”

“The idea that we had was that each of our pieces would talk to each other,” said Scheu, 72. “For me, that’s happening well.”

Jenny Scheu and Tom Ryan have a mother/son exhibit at Cove Street Arts in Portland. The two worked on their art during the pandemic while on opposite sides of the country: she in Maine and he in California. Seen here in the gallery are “Past to Present,” hanging in foreground, “Above Ozone Layer,” both by Jenny Scheu and “Het Steen,” seen through the foreground artwork and “Gabrielino Trail,” center, both by Tom Ryan. Gregory Rec/Staff Photographer

COMMON CONTEXT

Their styles are different, but art has always been a shared language for Scheu and Ryan.

“Sometimes, there can be an intergenerational – or just between family members – language barrier,” Ryan said. “Computer modeling is not her world, and if I had to tell her what I’m doing, it would not land.”

“It most definitely would not land,” Scheu said with a laugh.

“Art is a way for us to say, ‘Let me just show you want I mean,’ ” he said.

“Tumbling Down” (2024) by Jenny Scheu, graphite, inks, and pencil on gessoed paper, 22 inches by 30 inches. Photo by Jay York

Scheu first came to Maine in 1979 for a construction job and never left. She established a small architecture firm, but she had studied printmaking in college and always did drawing and painting on the side. She discovered the printmaking cooperative Peregrine Press in Portland and became a member. In the last decade, her work has shifted from architecture to artmaking.

As a kid, Ryan did not realize he would or even could make a career out of art. He decided to pursue it seriously while in college and later worked as a studio assistant while building his own practice. Lately, he has been working with 3D modeling, an interest he can trace back to those days in his mom’s architecture dioramas or on his dad’s construction sites. He uses that tool as a starting point for his paintings and sculptures.

Despite their different techniques, they both place importance on observing and exploring the natural world. Scheu described their family as “walkers.” Ryan said the hours he spent in the woods as a child were his “first aesthetic experiences.” They both have an interest in science – her in botany and biology, him in math and physics.

“We both were thinking we might be science majors when we entered college,” Scheu said, before they pursued art.

Her son said looking at his mother’s work makes him appreciate how she works with her hands in the studio.

“The first thing I think of in my mom’s work is that it’s very process-oriented,” Ryan said. “A lot of it happens right on the surface of the paper, building up layers. It starts with observation and direct experience in the world, but it takes on its own life in the studio. It becomes this combination of observed textures and what the paint is doing on the surface and how things interact.”

“Rivendale Park & Open Space” (2024) by Tom Ryan, oil on canvas, 48 inches by 60 inches. Photo by Tom Ryan

His mom said she admires the “freewheeling” quality of her son’s work.

“The images have a lot of depth,” she said. “And that feels really distinct from the flat surface and the realm that I work in. … It’s layered, but it’s also like taking a walk into a new place, which I find thrilling. It opens my eyes to looking at space.”

Kelley Lehr, co-owner and co-director of Cove Street Arts and Greenhut Gallery in Portland, knew both artists from previous group shows. She pitched the idea of a dual exhibition because she saw what she described as a similar energy in their work.

“Their voices are super distinct,” she said. “There’s no way you would confuse one artist’s work with the other. This was a leap of faith, and I trusted both of their sensibilities that it would come together.”

A TRANSCONTINENTAL CONNECTION

Across time zones, mother and son text and email. Scheu, in particular, is a prolific letter writer, so they have developed a pattern of written correspondence as well. As they developed the show, they sent each other progress shots at times but deliberately did not make their work together.

In one corner of the gallery are four pieces – two by Ryan, two by Scheu. On first glance, they are extremely different. On a second look, a shared color palette of blues and greens emerges. On a third and perhaps longer study, they have a similar movement.

“Explorer Rd. II” (2024) by Tom Ryan, oil on canvas, 30 inches by 36 inches. Photo by Tom Ryan

His (“Explorer Rd.” and “Explorer Rd. II”) are oil paintings. He documented a favorite tree in Los Angeles with 3D modeling and then used that image to create an otherworldly scene.

“Through my childhood and growing up, I think we were always walking around and pointing out, ‘Oh, that’s a cool tree,’ ” he said. “I’m still always doing that, stopping to look at my favorite trees. … As far as reproducing a favorite tree in my painting, I wanted to come up with something that felt very different than my physical experience of it. I want to keep some space between my work and my experience.”

Hers (“Transcontinental 1 and 2”) are made with watercolor and pencil. Scheu said she made these two paintings very quickly on a flat table. The end result is more literal than some of her work, a landscape of sorts viewed from above.

“The architect in me really thinks about landscape from on high, the concept of looking at a plan view of the world, a map view of the world,” she said. “I’m a serious map lover, and this to me feels like a map of a place.”

When pairing these works, they noticed a shared desire to chart the world around them, to see it from another vantage point.

“We didn’t talk about it at all,” Scheu said.

“Mapping is supposed to make the world more intelligible, but in this case, we’re using it to make the world less intelligible and more strange,” Ryan said.

They stood side by side in the gallery, looking at their paintings, talking to each other.

“Lateral Passage.” Through Jan. 11. Cove Street Arts, 71 Cove St., Portland. covestreetarts.com or 207-808-8911