In a renovated 1800s church in picturesque downtown Randolph, Vermont, framed by rolling hills and vibrant foliage, stands a haven of creativity and hope known as ART, etc. Filled with stunning paintings, candles, jewelry, wood and ironwork, textiles and pottery made by the hands of artists and artisans from across Vermont, the gallery’s many visitors likely don’t realize they are also standing in a place of resilience and strength in the face of one of life’s most challenging experiences.
The poster child for mammograms
With a history of breast cancer in her family, gallery owner Andrea Melville was, unfortunately, no stranger to the risk. She was glad she began her annual mammograms earlier than the recommended age, when in December of 2009 a tumor was found in her breast. “It was caught early and it was very small,” she says. “Since then, I always say I was sort of a poster child for getting a mammogram!”
Andrea underwent a lumpectomy to remove the tumor and then radiation. “I always remember my last radiation treatment, because we were in Montpelier and thought we'd go to dinner to celebrate. There were all these people around Julio's Mexican restaurant, and I wondered, what's going on? And then, we realized it was Cinco de Mayo! So now, every year on the anniversary of my last treatment, I go back to Julio’s to celebrate.”
Having worked in television at the time of this harrowing experience, rather than dimming her spirit, Andrea was fueled to create a space of beauty and inspiration.
It was through ART, etc. that Andrea's path intersected with that of Caroline Tavelli-Abar, a local artist whose vibrantly painted canvases resonated deeply with Andrea. Caroline, too, is a breast cancer survivor, and her art became a poignant reflection of her journey.
“I had had calcifications in my right breast for a long time. During a regular mammogram, they found that the calcifications had spread. A biopsy in February of 2022 revealed cancer. It really took me by surprise,” Caroline recalls.
A little help from my friends
Andrea and Caroline had both turned to family and friends for support through their respective treatments. It was art that led their paths to each other, but an unexpected shared experience that forged a forever bond of friendship.
“I have two gallery spaces that rotate out with a variety of different types of art mediums. I'm always looking for new artists,” says Andrea. “One day, Caroline came into the store and gave me her card. I went to her website and right in her bio, she talks about breast cancer. I thought, this is really interesting and what a connection. There were several other things too that we just clicked on.”
Caroline, having just gone through a mastectomy with breast reconstruction, was trying to get back into her art. “I heard about the gallery so I came down to meet Andrea. And she had this glow about her. We talked and exchanged cards and connected more online. She gave me a beautiful gallery show, which I’m very excited about. Breast cancer became an open conversation between us. It’s a wonderful connection to have another person shore you up and be there.”
Through Dartmouth Cancer Center, both women found interesting coincidences, such as having the same oncologist, which created an intimacy and connectedness that they both consider might not be there otherwise.
This connectedness led them to present an original work of art to their beloved oncologist, Gary Schwartz, MD, who had announced his retirement after 30 years of caring for people with breast cancer. “The fact that he had helped people for so long in such a difficult field really struck me,” says Caroline. “I went home and I was looking through my artwork. I thought of the piece called 'Dragons at Sea.' It's both a sunrise and a sunset. Symbolic of a retirement, but also symbolic of my own journey of processing losing and regaining my breast. Both very big life events.”
The bold, fluid watercolors bleeding together in each of Caroline’s canvases are striking on the surface but speak hidden volumes of pain, hope, and the spirit of embracing life fully. And that’s not all that’s hidden. “I start many blank canvases with a gold pen,” says Caroline. “I write words that are invisible. They’re not meant to be deciphered exactly. In fact, I can’t tell you what the words even are. It's just a feeling. But they’re all coming from a place of love – love for myself and for other people.”
Art is everything
Moving forward together, Andrea and Caroline’s stories shine in the sunlight that fills the gallery through the old church windows, infusing it with a profound sense of healing and beauty.
“Art for me is everything. It centers me, it helps me see things. It helps me mend. When I'm despaired or distressed, it's the first place I go to try to solve a problem or to try to figure out what the problem is. It's a wonderful place that I find solace in. It's literally everything for me,” says Caroline, who wants other people to feel a sense of joy when they see her work and to find solace and solution when navigating difficult circumstances.
“Art can bring people to a different place that they didn't know was there,” adds Andrea. “It doesn't matter if you ‘get it’ or not. If it moves you, that's all that matters.”
With Caroline by her side, the laughter, joy and light that fills Andrea’s thriving gallery is a reminder that even in the most difficult times, life can be vibrant, beautiful, and always threaded with invisible golden messages of love.
