Wednesday, April 23, 2025

Between the Leaves with Wil Bosbyshell


 

Between the Leaves with Wil Bosbyshell

By Alexandra Smith

A few years ago, I wrote a memory on a slip of paper and hung it from the Memory Tree. It was placed as an interactive centerpiece in the debut of Climate Conversations, an exhibition by artist Wil Bosbyshell.

There was a magnolia tree in my grandparents’ front yard in Greensboro, North Carolina. They left that farm when I was seven, yet some memories still feel crisp, like an early spring morning. I remember gathering fallen pecans in the backyard, hanging flowers and herbs from the rafters in the basement, and swinging from the pulleys in the hay barn. But it’s the magnolia I return to most.

Glossy, leathery leaves camouflaged my movements from supervising eyes. Dinner plate blossoms filled the air with perfume. I was small enough then to reach the top, where the branches bowed but held. Within that private hideaway, I discovered my own Universe, shielded from everything by beauty and bark.

“Everyone has a relationship with a specific tree,” Wil says. “Throughout our lives, trees sustain us spiritually, by offering beauty, strength, and renewal.”

A Charlotte-based artist, professor, and lifelong hiker, Wil Bosbyshell has the instincts of a naturalist combined with the precision of a draftsman. His art grows from a lifelong relationship with the natural environment. 

Portrait by Melissa Key

“I’ve always been enamored with the outdoors,” he says. As a child growing up in Florida, he spent long days in the woods and marshes with friends and family. “My friends and I built amazing tree forts,” he recalls. “We had multiple-story forts that spanned several trees.”

Where others might pass without pause, Wil observes, translating the soul of the forest with pencil and paper. He's spent the last decade developing two bodies of work: The Hike Series and Climate Conversations. Both reflect on the landscapes of North Carolina and the Southeast, where he continues to hike solo, with his family, and with local Scout troops. “There’s a tremendous amount of beauty and so many great hiking trails in this part of the country,” he says, pointing to the Carolina Thread Trail and Mountain to Sea Trail as personal favorites.

The Hike Series features dozens of petite colored pencil sketches of vistas encountered while hiking North Carolina’s winding paths. Wil records vivid greens, purple shadows, and golden sunbeams, providing portals into the forests and fields he sees along his way.

In contrast, Climate Conversations zooms in. These detailed pencil studies of individual trees focus on exploration and presence. Some drawings take as little as four hours, while the larger ones reach six feet tall and take over a year. He approaches each mark with meticulous intention. “I do a lot of erasing,” Wil shares. “I even have an eraser gun.”

Though they may appear photorealistic, Wil resists the idea that his drawings are portraits. They are more like visual meditations filtered through memory and divine proportions.

His process unfolds in two parts: abstraction and the tangible. He begins by rubbing paper directly on a tree’s bark, allowing its surface to imprint abstract marks. “Exploring texture is my favorite part,” he says. “But shape and form come next.”

Over time, this body of work has grown into a forest of reflection. Climate Conversations is now a traveling exhibition and just finished its third iteration at the Regina A. Quick Center for the Arts at St. Bonaventure University in New York.

Regardless of the venue, Wil makes the space come alive. Wandering through the exhibition, you'll see trees on fabric hung from the ceiling. They flutter softly, reflecting the serenity of the canopy outside. And on the walls, his drawings offer us a sense of firm and resolute power.

In the hush between movements, guests are invited to write down a tree memory of their own and hang it among the others. Wil has collected hundreds of heartfelt stories: notes about childhood favorites, places of mourning and meditation, and trees that grew alongside the people who loved them.

These steadfast companions protect us, nourish us, offer companionship, and record history. “Trees are not proverbial abstract things, but individual, living beings with personalities and stories to tell," Wil explains.

“If we can think about trees in a personal way,” he continues, “we see the need to increase our collective action to protect the climate, including air, soil, and water quality, to ensure the survival of trees.”

Is it a coincidence that the system of airways in our lungs resembles a tree's branches? We forget too easily that the natural world is a part of us, just like we are a part of it. Wil is helping us to remember ourselves—through the branches that let us touch the sky.

By Alexandra Smith























Monday, April 21, 2025

Drawing in the Mint Museum!


 

My climate Conversation Drawing 4 will be on display at the Mint Museum of Art in uptown Charlotte this Wednesday night, April 23rd at 6 PM. I consider this a great honor! Join me for the opening reception on the 5th floor gallery!

Wednesday, April 2, 2025

As the Climate Warms, the trees are talking. One Charlotte artist is listening


As the Climate Warms, the trees are talking. One Charlotte artist is listening 

WFAE | By Zachary Turner 

 Published March 12, 2025 at 2:53 PM EDT


Zachary Turner / WFAE


Charlotte artist Wil Bosbyshell stands in front of the tulip poplar he drew.

Wil Bosbyshell leaned against a cherry tree in his backyard. One hand held a sheet of paper in place while the other shaded. He is a professional artist who has been working in Charlotte for 30 years, capturing the images he sees on his hikes.

But, more recently, he’s gotten really into trees.

“So, I’m just rubbing the pencil sideways with a long point,” Bosbyshell said. The pencil scratched along the paper. “And I’m just gradually trying to rub it on the paper without poking the tree through the paper … which happens quite easily.”

 
Zachary Turner / WFAE



This drawing of a tree by Charlotte artist Wil Bosbyshell stands six feet tall.

A ghostly image appeared, almost like an ultrasound. He started drawing trees because of their complexity; the impressions often revealed features Bosbyshell didn’t see before. In one drawing, cross-hatched cuts marked the tree. They looked like scratches, and Bosbyshell assumed they were until an entomologist saw his drawing.

“He said this is bugs eating — a certain type of beetle eating into the bark where there’s a little break,” he said.

The process always begins outside with the rhythmic rubbing, then he takes the shading inside to refine. It might take a long afternoon or several months to complete. Inside his home, he showed off a drawing that stood taller than the average person.

“This one was … quite a challenge to rub on the tree because trees have branches that come out this way, and I didn’t want to poke a hole in the paper,” Bosbyshell said.



Drawing for the climate


Bark beetles and cattywampus limbs aren’t the only features Bosbyshell noticed during his drawing. Trees also record their interactions with humans. He pointed to a piece that his wife, Maura, had turned into a pillow.

“So, the tree is alive, and then, all of a sudden, it starts to die, and the bark gets eaten off by that acid rain up in the Smokey Mountains,” Bosbyshell said.

The trunk retained its bark, but the limbs had started to shed and die off. He said he wanted his trees to draw attention to climate change, and while climate change may not cause acid rain, they are related. Refining oil and burning fossil fuels like coal or natural gas releases sulfur dioxide and nitrogen oxides. Acid rain occurs when those gases mix with water in the
atmosphere.

 
 Zachary Turner / WFAE


Trees are also part of the solution. These silent sentinels absorb carbon dioxide and trap it. When they fall and decompose, that carbon returns to the earth, but the system only works when those trees are allowed to decompose naturally.

Millions of trees fell in western North Carolina during Helene, making catastrophic wildfires more likely. The cycle feeds into itself: Bad floods topple trees that burn before they can decompose. That releases more carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, leading to worse floods that topple more trees.

“I really am moved by trying to get people to take the climate a little bit more seriously,” Bosbyshell said. “I was hoping this would be the way to sneak climate into people’s lives because everyone likes trees.”

He started asking people to write down their favorite tree memory at his installations. He received responses like “cloud watching with my dad under a tree” or the time someone proposed under a tree. The cloud-watching memory was one of his favorites.

Bosbyshell will display his work as part of Charlotte Earth Day. The event will feature performances, presentations and art installations for all ages. Charlotte Earth Day founder Hardin Minor said this year's theme is Creative Earth.

“Look at the seasons. Look at spring blooming now,” Minor said. “Nature is the ultimate artist.”

The exhibits will include Bosbyshell’s Memory Tree project. Minor recalled sharing his tree memory — the time his brother Peter climbed a tree in his backyard when they were growing up. His father was just gone to call the fire department to get Peter down when he fell from the tree and “landed on this patch of moss, and he bounced!”

“All of a sudden, I’m writing this information on this card, and I’m weeping and remembering that Peter (his brother) survived,” Minor said.

For Bosbyshell, that emotional reaction is kind of the point.

“It’s just so personal,” Bosbyshell said. “We all have trees in our yard, in our neighborhood, by our school.”

Link: WFAE