snapshots

a fine art show by stephanie hock

“In 2023, I crossed a lifelong dream off my bucket list and finally got to go to Europe for the first time. I fell in love with London and Paris, just as I imagined I would, and came home with thousands of photos and a head full of inspiration. Thanks to my brother’s wedding, I also went to New York City that same year and again came home full of photos and inspiration. I loved comparing three of the biggest cities in the world and pulling out details I loved about each of them. I wanted to paint paintings the way they feel in my sketchbooks when I’m on a trip—full of lines and quick marks. I wanted them to feel the way a trip feels in your memory, where some things stand out really clearly, full of color, and other things fade away, just rough background lines.

I had so much fun bringing these paintings to life, playing with style and pushing my own boundaries. I thought of how often each of these cities has reinvented themselves, how they’ve rebranded and rebuilt their own identities over decades (centuries) of existing among different human histories. Who says they ever had only one story to tell? One style? One small creative box they had to fit into? Who says I have one box? Who says I have creative limits? Who says I can’t continually reinvent and rebuild myself wherever my inspiration takes me? I feel like I’ve only begun to play with ideas I gathered on the treasure hunt of these travels and I can’t wait to continue to find more as I keep exploring.”

—Stephanie Hock

all artwork is available for purchase through Alpine Art & Frame. please contact Susan at 801-355-1155 or susan@alpineartinc.com.

alpine art

Red beret, 12x12

We were leaving dinner, walking through a crowded restaurant, and I caught a glimpse of a woman in a red beret. I grabbed my phone and snapped a quick, blurry photo, not even slowing my stride as we walked past their table and out of the restaurant. But in that moment, this whole show was born. What if I could paint a story that was just about her— just that one woman in full color and the rest of the busy crowded room faded away into just lines and less details? Because sometimes it feels like that, doesn’t it? Maybe there’s a whole world happening around you, but all you care about is the world happening WITHIN you, right in proximity to you— that’s where all the magic is. Does it even matter that other people were there except to be the background actors to your great story? To fill in and color the world that exists to support you and the people you love? It’s magic and they’re just lines, while you are full colors. Welcome to snapshots.

London Skyline, 16x20

I didn’t expect to love London as much as I did. I didn’t expect for it to take my breath away around every corner with every building, every nook and cranny of charm, every pocket of history and modernism and color and interest. I didn’t plan anywhere close to enough time to even scratch the surface of this city. I barely got my bearings and it was already time to go. I was blown away by so many details. It boggled my mind how long this city has been standing— just how much world history it has seen. One of my favorite moments was standing in Trafalgar Square and thinking of my grandpa who was a colonel in the Air Force during World War II and stationed in London. He happened to be off-base on VE Day when they declared victory and the war was over. All the other American soldiers had to stay on base but because my grandpa was already out, they let him stay in the city and celebrate with all the Londoners who finally got to put light in the their blackened out windows. It was so moving to stand there and picture it all. We took a boat ride up the Thames and they pointed out where Shakespeare’s Globe Theater was, cause, oh yeah, SHAKESPEARE was here. So, so much. I got to worship at Westminster Abbey at a Sunday Service and felt God in those walls. I looked back at Big Ben one night as we were walking back to our hotel and could’ve sworn I almost saw Peter Pan fly by. We saw a play in the West End and I’m still pondering the words that moved me so much. Oh, London. I join the ranks of all the humans who have fallen in love with your beautiful soul. I can’t wait to see you again.

new york streets, 24x36

I’ve been to New York City several times, but this was the first year I took my kids. There is something so magic about experiencing something for the first time with fresh eyes. We couldn’t fully explain to them beforehand just HOW TALL the buildings actually are and HOW MANY of them surround you. It is nothing like the small downtown we’re used to back home. The amount of people and traffic always going so many directions at any hour of the day is exhilarating and like nowhere else. I remember the first time I stood in Times Square, I just felt like I was in the heartbeat of humanity— that everything else in the world pulsed out from right there. I love getting swept up in the rhythm of it all. I love going up to the tops of the buildings and looking down at how small the people and cars look— tiny toys moving about their lives. I love getting on street level and walking with strangers, picking up snippets of conversations and guessing about their stories and histories. One night, we were walking back late and my daughter asked me, “are we safe?” It was a good question and a good teaching moment. I asked her what she thought? I told her she might feel nervous because this is so different than our normal life back home on our quiet neighborhood street in suburbia. But look at the people around us, really look. That man is buying flowers. Those two look like they’re on a date. That father and daughter are eating ice cream. Look in their eyes. Do you feel like they’re safe? I watched her whole body relax as she looked at the people in their faces and realized, yep, they’re just normal people. I love that travel does this. I love that it broadens our normal perspectives, invites us to see beyond what we’re used to, open our eyes wider, reach our arms out to be more inclusive about how we love people around us. New York inspires me every time I walk her streets.

into the light, 36x36

One thing I wish I’d had more time to explore during this show (maybe a future show?) was more comparison on how these three cities (New York, London and Paris) relate to each other. How are they the same? How are they different? Could I paint things from one of them and the viewer wouldn’t know which city it belonged to? What makes the people in each place similar? What makes them unique? It was amazing to me how interesting it was to travel outside of my own country (different money systems, train systems, government systems, restaurant rules… more things than I can count) and then even how different it was to be in countries where English isn’t the primary language. It’s always so eye opening to be in the minority of any situation and to be a learner/beginner when everyone else seems to understand things. It humbles you fast and reminds you to be so grateful for the people who show grace and kindness. Like the bakery owner in Paris on the Champs-Elysees (a street we spent the whole trip trying to learn to pronounce the right way and could not stop laughing about every time we got it wrong) who didn’t rush us along but made us sit and enjoy extra pan au chocolat and complimentary cocoa so our tired, wet, cold selves could rest as he told us all about how Lady Gaga was his girlfriend back in New York. He reminded me that good people are everywhere and all of us just want to be treated with kindness and love. Whichever city we may find ourselves in, there is warm light shining in all of the places and I hope each of us can find it.

playing tourist, 24x24

When I was getting married, several of my friends and coworkers had already gotten married. I found myself on the receiving end of a loooooooot of advice. Some of it was incredibly helpful. But there was a point where I felt strongly that I wanted to have my own wedding experience, even if that included making my own mistakes or doing things at my wedding that other people hated at theirs. It became a joke, “It’s my wedding, I’ll do what I want!” Sometimes trips feel the same way where everyone has opinions and advice about how your trip should go. I’m grateful for some of it. But I also want the experience of having my own trip and doing the things that are exciting to me and making it mine. Some of the best moments on trips are the adventures of accidents! If it’s my first time somewhere, then I definitely am going to do all the cliche touristy things I want to do. Because no matter how many people have stood on the Eiffel Tour before, no one can do it for me, stand in my place with my own two feet. No one can replicate the experience of walking out of the Tube station on my first day in London and the very first thing we see is the golden majesty of Big Ben gleaming right in front of us for my own two eyes to behold. No one can experience how it feels to ride on the top deck of the red double decker tour bus with us and not be prepared for how windy it was and laughing so hard we couldn’t even talk as we’re careening up and down the streets seeing the whole city. No one can sit in Central Park listening to a saxophone player with my ears and relish the cacophony of sounds that the New York soundtrack is. It’s my turn and I will live up every minute of the joy of being a tourist. No one can see the world through my senses exactly like I can.

train station, 12x12

I don’t know what it is, but I’ve always been mesmerized about the in between phases of travel. I love train stations, airports, ferry rides, lounges. When I traveled a lot for work I used to plan purposeful layovers just so I could have downtime to hang out in airports and sketch people and be part of the vibe. I like the light and shadows. I like everyone taken out of their normal worlds and shuffled together into a new deck of humanity who’s all in the same situation, coming and going. I love people watching. It’s amazing how different airports feel on the way to a destination (the buzz of anticipation! the whole trip is ahead of us! we can’t wait to get there!) and on the way home from one (I’m so tired… can’t wait to be home… just want to climb into my own shower, then my own bed…). I love how travel inspires me and also resets me. It makes my whole family appreciate our home and our lives here in ways that are always so good for us. We come back renewed and grateful. And after a little downtime, we’re always excited to plan the next adventure.

paris pink, 18x24

There’s a quote from the movie “Sabrina” where she’s writing to her father about Paris. She says:

“Across the street, someone is playing ""La Vie En Rose. '" They do it for the tourists but I'm always surprised at how it moves me. It means seeing life through rose-colored glasses. But only in Paris, where the light is pink could that song make any sense… but I'll have it in my pocket when I get home... and I'll take it with me wherever I go from now on.”

I always loved that movie, that quote and the way they showed Paris in that movie. When I got to the city, I was so surprised to see that Paris delivered on its reputation exactly. The buildings really all are five stories, cream colored with iron balconies and purple rooftops. There really are street cafes EVERYWHERE! There really are cobblestone streets and scooters and bikes and little flower boxes hanging out the windows and awnings and croissants and you really can see the beautiful Eiffel Tower from all over the city. It was exactly what I always imagined it would be and I was so pleasantly surprised to step right into the world of Paris. Even as we were leaving the Louvre, we were crossing one of the bridges over the Seine and someone started playing “La Vie En Rose.” I stopped and had my own moment of just breathing in the Paris pink, the rhythm of slowing down and savoring life and enjoying the beauty of it all. I vowed to bring that home with me.

holding tradition, 8x10

There is something so beautiful about long standing traditions. Sometimes they’re the glue that hold a culture together, that weave together different people over time. They get handed down from one to another even when a position or a person changes, the tradition can stay and live on. They’re what connects us to the generations that went before us and what carry our legacies to the next group that will come after us. I love learning the history and symbolism behind so many traditions and the power behind why they’re important. Not every tradition is worth passing down. But understanding what’s important in your life, your family, your city, your country can bring so much joy to something bigger than just you. It can help us be part of something more.

Modern Monet, 24x24

I stepped into the train station in Paris and gasped. It looked just like a Monet painting! Those windows and roof were exactly the same! As an art major in college, I spent years in dark lecture halls studying images of old paintings of things I didn’t care about—wars and historical stories painted in old styles with so much detail. I’d memorize dates and details for tests and then promptly forget them all. And then suddenly we got to the impressionist chapter and WOW! I was blown away by things like how Monet wanted to study the way light interacted with steam in the “modern” train station even though he was made fun of for painting something so rudimentary and commonplace. I loved the artists who laid their paint down so thickly to show off texture and let the world know they were a PAINTER. I got lost in the linework that showed through in the final painting— the simple gestures and unfinished look of so many masterpieces, letting your brain fill in the rest. I was so moved. THIS was what kind of artist I wanted to be. I don’t care about painting kings or conquerers, I want the stories of ordinary people, the beautiful life happening all around us. And here I was, all these years later, finally standing in a busy, ordinary Paris train station getting my own turn to be so moved by the light and the regular people hurrying through their day. I couldn’t help the tears that rolled down my cheeks as I took it all in. My own modern day Monet moment, my chance to make my own mark.

lady liberty, 8x10

I looked at my tired family all collapsed on the short brick wall, resting under the shadow of Lady Liberty, trying to regain their energy to keep walking, keep wandering the island, the museum, the city, the other destinations on our itinerary for the day. I felt the words of Emma Lazarus’ beautiful poem in my heart as I stared at the scene, “Give me your tired, your poor, huddled masses yearning to breathe free, wretched refuse of your teeming shore, these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” Of course my family was not nearly as destitute as so many who come to this place seeking refuge. But I felt the ache of Lady Liberty watching over any in need, any who are tired. I felt her yearning to light and lift and give hope to anyone whose head hangs down. Sometimes we are so busy comparing tragedies trying to compete about whose is worse that we forget to save space for how hard it is that all of us are living through tragedies. All of us are tempest-tost and tired. All of us are looking for refuge and relief. I want to stand tall like Lady Liberty. I want to hold my light out and offer hope. If you come here, I will be a safe harbor where you can find rest. I won’t judge why you’re tired. If you’re yearning to breathe free, breathe here.

Eiffel Tower 1, 8x10

My first glimpse of her was out the airplane window. I didn’t expect that I could see her from up in the air but she was so majestic and iconic that she rose up out of the city like a beacon. It sent a little thrill in my heart to see her with my own eyes. I’ve waited my whole life to see the Eiffel Tower myself and here I was. It makes sense that Paris is the city of love and the city of light, because this whole trip was the most grand gesture of love I’ve ever received. My husband went through two different masters degrees during our marriage and I was right there next to him, supporting him as much as I could, handling the homefront, editing his papers, helping navigate our lives around his class and homework schedules. Every semester we’d save up the money for the next semester so he could keep going to school and progressing in his education. The plan was that he’d keep going all the way and get his PhD, and we worked for years to make that goal happen. In the end, there was no path that got us there and it was disappointing to let that dream go. But, this is how incredible my husband is. He came home the day he found out he didn’t get in to the last PhD program he applied to and handed me an envelope. Inside was a handwritten note, “Plane ticket to your choice: France, Italy or Hawaii.” All my dream destinations that I had never been to. He wanted to take the money we’d saved up for his next round of schooling and use it to make my dreams come true instead. Love. Love also looks like riding the elevator up the Eiffel Tower with me and then the wind being super crazy that day and the whole tower swaying back and forth and same husband who doesn’t love heights holding on to the railing and saying, “Stay as long as you want and enjoy it all” while hating the vertigo and loving me at the same time. This man. This city of love. Me sacrificing to make his dreams come true. Him sacrificing to make my dreams come true. Us laughing our way through the imperfect beauty of both our dreams and both our ups and downs. The Eiffel Tower will have the softest spot in my heart for representing all of this in my story. Light and love forever.

Night City, 30x40

What is it about cities at nighttime that turn magic? It’s like they put on a costume—lipstick, sequins, heels, a tux. What was boring and mundane in the harsh noon sun now suddenly has flash and pizazz. There’s LIGHT and electricity and a buzz in the air. Things are happening. Work is over, it’s time for FUN. Tall buildings turn into abstract art, all those windows creating a harmony of energy, reflecting off each other, emitting different glows. The evening dusk blankets all those details that aren’t important and the spotlight shines on the place you are, the wonder of whatever moment you’re in and people you’re with. Like the theater of life has quieted down all the other stories (construction, people yelling, chaos) and now the stage is set for the ambiance of the moment. The romance of that deep, inky blue night sky filled with stars and the reflected orange-yellow light in the pavement. The quiet walks, deep in thought, letting your day wash over you, savoring the last bits of gratitude for a life full of wonder and joy. The conversations as you take the train home, the things you learn and listen to that would be lost in the noise of the day. Empty city sidewalks made for walking two by two. Laughs spilling out from cafes as you feel humanity collectively exhale their stress away. The steady, constant rush of the river and the way it gives back every light of the city and the stars as a gift for those who stop to revel in it. Dark, sacred night. One of my favorite ways to see a city.

salt lake at sunset, 48x72

I grew up in Salt Lake City and have lived here most all of my life. When I travel and I see the airport code “SLC” on my ticket or luggage tag, I get so happy because for me, SLC = HOME. Every time I fly in or drive back from a road trip and I see my mountains and my downtown I feel myself sigh. Here. Home. It’s familiar and safe and MINE. I know these streets, these hills, these buildings, these people. I love this place and it has shaped so much about the person I am. Let the world think whatever they want about Salt Lake City, I know the truth. It is the best place to call home.