Honoring the Life and Legacy of Charles Meech (1942-2025)
For many years, the Loft was proud to partner with the Madeline Island School of the Arts (MISA) to offer two annual fellowships for Loft teaching artists—a rare and restorative opportunity to write and reflect on the quiet beauty of Madeline Island. This partnership was made possible by Charles Meech, who we lost in April. His deep dedication to artists and writers turned a historic Wisconsin dairy farm into a vibrant creative haven. In the tribute below, Loft teaching artist Brenda Hudson reflects on her time at MISA and the impact of Charlie’s generous vision.
It’s the end of summer 2016, and I’m driving solo on my way to the Madeline Island School of the Arts on a teaching fellowship offered by MISA and the Loft. For a week, I’m leaving behind the Twin Cities, my day job, and my family to write in solitude on a restored Wisconsin dairy farm, now home to a phenomenal arts school campus on Lake Superior’s Madeline Island, one of the Apostle Islands.
As I drive north, I leave a trail of shed responsibilities: work, the dogs, meal planning and execution, car pools. Instead, I think about the book I will be working on, and I can’t get there fast enough. I’m in good company. Everyone on I-35N seems to be in a hurry. This changes once I cross into Wisconsin and leave the cities of Duluth and Superior in my rearview mirror. The further northeast I travel, now hugging the shore of Lake Superior, the less traffic there is. I slow down. I’m lighter. The landscape, more intimate. It feels wrong to have the radio on. I roll down the window. Although I can’t always see it, Lake Superior is a felt presence to my left.
Nearly two hours later, in Bayfield, one of the ferry’s deckhands is guiding me to slowly advance my car to within inches of the vehicle parked ahead of me on the small open car deck. He makes quick work of orchestrating the placement of vehicles until hitting capacity, and we depart. I spend the 20-minute crossing on the upstairs deck, watching Madeline Island come closer into focus.
Although I’ve seen photos of MISA with its iconic red and white barn and windmill, I’m not entirely sure what to expect of the campus other than I know I will be the only one staying there, as this is one of only two weeks during the summer when no classes are held. All I can think is, “I have a week to write!”
I pull into the driveway and park by the Stable, now the administrative hub of campus, where I find my host, Charles Meech. Charlie, as he introduces himself, is a sort of gentleman farmer of the arts, whose vision and passion transformed an island dairy farm into a beautiful arts school. The barn serves as the dining room and what was once the hayloft is a spacious classroom. The milkhouse is where the quilters quilt and the photographers and painters set up shop too. The farmhouse houses the teaching artists, and dotted along the periphery, nestled on the edges of prairie grasses are the student cottages.
Art is created here: stories, quilts, photography, painting, and Charlie seems to nurture it all. I instantly feel and love the creative vibe, grateful that MISA offers yearly fellowships to Loft teaching artists whose only responsibility is “to work on a writing project of their choice.”
As Charlie hands me the keys to my cottage, he asks what I’ll be working on, and I tell him I’ve been meaning to write a how-to book for capturing family stories, based on workshops I’ve been teaching at the Loft. I tell him that a week to myself here will finally get me started.
Actually, now that I’m here, I’m worried that other forms of distraction might keep me from writing. Instead of my day job, sleeping in? Instead of family obligations, hikes and biking? I certainly don’t want to squander this gift of time and space.
Well, I needn’t have worried. During my week at MISA, I got down to business. I outlined my book, which turned into Story by Story: 15 Projects to Write Your Family Legacy, spurred somewhat by Charlie who, whenever I saw him on campus, would ask, “How many words have you written so far?” I appreciated the accountability! I also got some great sleep and was inspired by daily hikes on the island.
Since then, I’ve returned to MISA several times, as a teaching artist and for another fellowship, experiences I still treasure. Experiences made possible–not only for me but for many students, teachers, and fellowship recipients–by Charlie’s vision in creating and sustaining MISA. He will be missed but not forgotten.
Thank you, MISA and the Loft, for this continued opportunity for teaching artists to both rest and grow in creativity.