2020

ALEX (11:20)

Mixed media (November 2020)

Protection.

In this ninth model-specific series, the subject was Alex — a friend of a friend. He’s young, handsome, guarded, smart, and a bit of a smart aleck. He projects the confidence and bravado of a young guy who isn’t sure where everything is heading or how he even got here. Every question I ask he’s got an answer. There’s a chip on his shoulder. He’s daring me to see something, but I’m going to have to work at it. He’s not handing me anything.

Armor. He’s wearing a lot of invisible armor. There are cracks. It isn’t perfectly made. He’s unsure what he wants. He must have dared himself to do this. He wants to be idolized. And if I was the type of painter who wanted to objectify someone — Alex would be a good choice. But I’m looking for something else.

Struggle. Fighting to be seen. Just wanting to be looked at. Break this apart. Something beautiful is there. Simple. Primary. Complicated and getting lost.

Who’s here? Alex, me, our mutual friend. Lots of conversations about others — family, girlfriend. Getting hard to see him. Determined. At cross purposes. No one is going to be happy.

And there’s something on the horizon creating more distance. More separation. More resistance. We are about to head into a pandemic. Masks. Distance. Longing to connect. Knowing it isn’t safe. More complication. More broken parts trying to hold together. The more separation the more desire to come together.

Nothing is easy.

WHIPPLE (5:20)

Mixed media (May 2020)

Outside.

In this eighth model-specific series, the subject was Whipple (“a family name” he told me). This was our first and only meeting — a random encounter in a rare moment of acknowledgement. We went to the same college, but at different times.

So that meant there was a lot to discover. Who was this stranger willing to wander in to an artist studio and become the subject of an abstracted portrait? I asked a few polite questions to learn a little of his life, but in this moment, at this time, I decided just to look.

What resulted was a process where I glazed over the sketches until they were only faint hints of the original subject. The thought was to reduce the grounding elements and make space for the experiential ones.

And then, suddenly, everything about Whipple became gray. The one visual component that lingered was his large scar down the center of his chest. The space between filled up with broken pieces — shattered, jagged marks. But there was also space and depth — an action of reaching in from the outside — pulling something out.

The portrait started to remind me of the work of Joan Miro, Frank Lobdell and Nathan Oliveira. Dark creatures telling darker narratives without words and the importance of symbols. The embrace of what appears random but is purposeful and thoughtful. An experience that can only be understood by looking no matter how many words are attached to it.

Paintings have their own language. So do relationships.

This is what Whipple said to me.

ADAM (2:20)

Mixed media (February 2020)

Twists.

In this seventh model-specific series, the model was Adam - the Golden Boy. Nice to a fault. All round sweet person to the point of glowing. Generous. Easy. Smart. Kind. Polite. It was impossible to find something “wrong” with him.

Perhaps I thrive on “wrong” because unlike any of the earlier model-specific series I struggled for a very long time over painting the experience. Unlike any of the earlier series I could not let go of the figure. It haunted me even when I purposely painted over it. The best I could hope for was camouflage.

My objective in these series is to paint the experience of the modeling session not the model. I want to move beyond looking at the person as an object. But there was Adam — open, honest, being himself — there wasn’t anything hidden. There wasn’t any residue being put into the atmosphere. No tension. No fear. No complication.

After Adam left and I was alone with the sketches it became obvious that if there was something in the “space between” it was what I was putting there. The vision of Adam was clear — the Golden Boy — but my reaction to that was strangely unresolved.

I made a decision to limit the colors and materials. I stopped resisting allowing the figure to take focus. It wasn’t until I accepted that there was a second figure struggling with the first to get attention that the series started to make sense.

Jealousy. Envy. Loneliness.

Trying to find connection.

Letting people — Adam — show me the way.