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Notes from the Artist
Rick, Saturday you suggested I share with my readers how I became interested in the portrait as my major artistic expression. True there are unlimited areas of art and at least a dozen conventional expressions that I am competent and comfortable with. Certainly over the years I have delved into these new territories of subject matter but in spite of tacit success I returned to the portrait. I guess you might say I’m an innate “people painter”.
First of all I love most of mankind and pray for those I cannot love. (That God would remove them in one of His mysterious ways.)
Secondly I find a mystique in portraying people. There develops an unspoken communication between the artist and the subject that seems to be projected onto the paper or canvas.
This relationship is not limited by age differences, (including babies and young children that refuse to pose.) The temporary bond is not restricted by race, gender, and status political nor religious differences. For that precious interim it’s a one on one spiritual union
Edit me if I’m repeating myself. (I’m at that age) My formative years in Cleveland, Ohio I lived within a mile of one of the world’s greatest museums of art. At the tender year of seven or eight my oldest brother who was my mentor would take me to the pond and park in front of the museum.
I call Roscoe Jr. my mentor because he was a skilled drawer and craftsman. “Boots” as we called him, could draw the realistic comic characters with accuracy and I would try emulating him.
Needless to say, he would take me into the museum on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon and the classical portraits of the masters overwhelmed me. v By the time I was eleven I was taking art classes for children offered on Saturday mornings At the Cleveland Art Museum and again I focused on the portrait paintings.
I received my first box of pastels when I was twelve and created my first pastel portrait from a Christmas card. My subject was Santa Clause. When I was in the sixth grade I was in “love” with Annette Johnson.
She chose not to know I existed on the same planet with her. She didn’t even know my name. (And we shared the same last name.) I would fantasize that her mother would commission me to do a painting of her and it would be received with great accolades and then she would appreciate me.
My formative school years were a disaster. I was two years behind before I got out of the fourth grade: Then things got bad. A few teachers recognized my artistic skills and one got me a scholarship for Saturday art classes at the Cleveland school of Art studying under Paul Travis a celebrated portrait artist of international acclaim.
At the ripe age of 33 when I finally decided to make art my career, (the delay is a whole other story), I found sketching charcoal portraits in less than fifteen minutes was the best way to consistently make enough to eat, and that’s how I met you, Rick.