Carolyn Newberger is an artist, child psychologist, and musician (flute and jazz washboard) whose deep concerns for people and their lives drive her work. Her drawings, paintings and collage have achieved recognition and awards in juried and solo exhibitions. Carolyn went to Sarah Lawrence College and received her doctorate from Harvard, after two years in Burkina Faso with the Peace Corps. As a psychologist, Carolyn developed an influential theory of parental consciousness that continues to frame family studies and efforts to prevent child abuse. Her research and teaching at Harvard Medical School and Boston Children’s Hospital, and her ability clearly and soundly to address such subjects as parental discipline, sexual abuse, and domestic violence, attract respect and notice by clinicians and media alike. Called often as an expert on television news, she appeared twice on the Oprah Winfrey show and has published widely in both the scientific and popular press. Carolyn’s art is represented by Galatea Fine Arts in Boston, Massachusetts and she performs regularly on jazz washboard with Eli and the Hot Six. To learn more about Carolyn and to view her art, visit her website at www.carolynnewberger.com.
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Articles by Carolyn Newberger
Saturday, 25 Jan 2020 - We’ve noticed some interesting things about the birds, like the sociability of the doves, the devotion of the cardinal pairs, and how the chickadees and tufted titmice pull a single seed through the mesh, then fly to a branch on a large maple tree behind the wire, where they tap the shell against the branch in order to eat the seed inside.
Saturday, 18 Jan 2020 - We humans and other creatures of the animal and insect world, it seems, are programmed to decline in age. But is our decline inevitable?
Saturday, 11 Jan 2020 - A veritable banquet for ants, flies, bees, wasps, beetles and butterflies, milkweed’s best-known customer is the monarch butterfly.
Saturday, 4 Jan 2020 - When I look around me, I realize that I am surrounded by thicket. The forest is impenetrable, unreadable, and I am lost.
Sunday, 29 Dec 2019 - People of every gender, color and everything in between are celebrating the end of one year and the beginning of the next.
Saturday, 21 Dec 2019 - For me, winter in the Berkshires involves quite a bit of curling up on a window seat in my snug den, maybe with a book in hand, my dog lying on my tummy, looking forward to an afternoon nap and an early bedtime.
Saturday, 14 Dec 2019 - Here in the Berkshires, my neighbors’ ancestors have been hunting on these lands for generations. So I need to examine my preconceptions about hunting.
Saturday, 7 Dec 2019 - Lily draws us into possibilities and mysteries, while at the same time reminding us of our limitations.
Saturday, 30 Nov 2019 - Sometimes, meditatively, we follow one or another leaf with our eyes as it circles slowly downward before settling on the ground.
Saturday, 23 Nov 2019 - And perhaps that’s one of the problems with civilization. It unrests the soul.
Saturday, 16 Nov 2019 - If I didn’t observe with my own eyes the two trees solidly arising above, I would perceive the roots as a single organism of braiding parts.
Saturday, 9 Nov 2019 - As I walk through the woods along Yokun Brook I can’t tell where one person’s property ends and another’s begins. Yet people kill over property lines.
Wednesday, 6 Nov 2019 - Ms. Brown speaks in her notes of wanting her dancers to represent superheroes, celebrating Black resilience and connection, the claiming of one’s body, the rituals and bonds of Black youth coming of age, and the trials and strengths of individuals and communities.
Saturday, 2 Nov 2019 - Right there, under scampering Lily and under me, is a world that I can only imagine, a city under a hill, the brain center of a family of trees.
Sunday, 27 Oct 2019 - So Lily and I left the tree and went to my favorite spot, a rock beside Yokum Brook where the water tumbles beneath my feet, and I reflect on the various complexities of life.
Saturday, 19 Oct 2019 - Once home, chagrinned, I glanced at my insect-shield clothing lying unworn in its basket and my bug spray unsprayed on the mudroom windowsill. I had been tromping full-tilt through a New England forest in the height of tick season with no protection whatsoever.
Sunday, 13 Oct 2019 - When I encounter a tree in the forest with a gaping hole in its aged trunk or a vine encircling its girth up into the canopy, squeezing out its breath — a tree for one reason or another clinging to life or patiently enduring — that tree, whether it be oak, pine, maple, ash or birch, is always female to me.
Saturday, 5 Oct 2019 - Morality, as I think about it, is about conflicting needs and demands, and choosing who or what deserves to be spared and who or what deserves to be sacrificed.
Sunday, 22 Sep 2019 - This is what Lily is meant to do. This is what she’s enacting when, with bright eyes, she eagerly offers us her plush green duck toy, then tugs back against our grip, shaking and snarling.
Sunday, 15 Sep 2019 - I’m not sure what I would do if I encountered a bear, but my childhood fantasy is that I’d talk to it nicely and it would know that I meant it no harm.
Sunday, 8 Sep 2019 - I do feel that I have a special relationship with hummingbirds. Sometimes during the summer, while watering the garden, they have danced in the spray from the hose, even coming almost up to the nozzle.
Saturday, 31 Aug 2019 - Within minutes, I saw a bright orange flash in my left eye. There, maybe 20 feet away, deep in the ferns, the wavy scalloped shelves of chicken of the woods blazed in the morning sun.
Friday, 23 Aug 2019 - Sometimes the newts come out before the rain as though trying to get a head start on their journey. How do they know that rain will come?
Saturday, 17 Aug 2019 - Surprisingly, the roots, where they emerged from the ground and joined the trunk, were embracing a papoose, held tightly to the body of the tree.
Tuesday, 6 Aug 2019 - Whatever performance is in the woods, gear has got to be a part of it. I have my bug-off pants, my bug-off shirt, socks, hat, jacket and even bug-off gaiters...
Monday, 29 Jul 2019 - The evening-length performance intensified through changing scenes of tap (in shoes without metal taps), vernacular jazz and Lindy hop, in tap-infused solos, sensuous Lindy duos and tight ensembles.
Saturday, 27 Jul 2019 - I had grown up in a world stripped of death. I hadn’t even been to a funeral!
Thursday, 18 Jul 2019 - Oh, no—keep her off my mushroom city. My adored little dog has become a Godzilla threatening Gotham.
Friday, 12 Jul 2019 - So can trees communicate? Yes, they can. Can they love each other? I can only answer that question with another. What is love?
Monday, 1 Jul 2019 - Oaks, in my mind, are tall, strong guardians, thoughtfully dropping their heavy acorns, deliberate and wise.
Saturday, 22 Jun 2019 - There they were, with many names: varnish cap, Reishi, and most exotic, Lingzhi, beloved mushroom of Chinese emperors for 2000 years.
Saturday, 15 Jun 2019 - Lily and I discovered the big, messy, seething forest that lies behind the few houses that dot our road. I’m talking about hundreds of acres of forest connected to thousands and hundreds of thousands of acres of forest stretching northward through Vermont, into Canada, beyond the Yukon, and clear to the North Pole.