Dead Artists Draw Larger Crowds

Driving cross town on a cold rainy night to an art exhibition wondering what I will see. Red taillights and yellow headlights are highlighted in every raindrop racing down my windshield. Turning onto a quieter street lined with old elm trees and grand old homes, images of people wrapped in afghans and family quilts stir in my head. The house second from the corner of Garfield and Commonwealth has a large watercolor hanging across from their sofa. I always slow here to take a look, even though I cannot really see any detail of this painting. Only the wide mat tells me it's medium. Lamps and art work are my interest while driving through this part of town at night. The shapes of lampshades fascinate me.

Pulling into the university's parking lot, I see people rushing to get in out of the rain. Quite a crowd for an art exhibit. Dead artists seem to draw larger crowds. This particular artist taught at the university, her paintings were there on loan from local collectors. People are hanging up wet coats on wood hangers and getting glasses of wine (in actual glasses) to view the artwork. A touch of class to honor the artist and her works. If she were still alive it would be plastic cups and paper plates. A few people are looking at the art, most are reacquainting themselves with neighbors and club members they normally avoid.

Squeezing by people, I make my way from one work to another. At the exhibition before this one only the artist was here. Paper cups and apple cider for that artist. Being an artist has its ups and downs.

Artists As Historians

Local artists are a gift to a community, recording all the unimportant things that, in time, make life interesting. Before the bank tore down half a block of old buildings for a parking lot our local artist, Ruth van Sickle Ford, recorded these great old buildings with watercolors. She found them interesting long before they were slated for demolition. They inspired her with their character. In her own way she saved the heritage of our town long after her passing. Right now there is an effort to save the building next to my studio, and a developer is giving new life to this old building.

Oil painters, watercolorists, and photographers record our lives for generations to come, whether it is their intention or simply because it is their hobby.

A few years ago a large wearhouse was built just north of where I grew up. As they were leveling the land and bulldozing a small grove of trees, they turned up several coffins. They had no idea as to who was buried there. I had the answer for them because a couple dozen years before I did a painting of the old farm house, and as I sat there painting a passerby stopped to see what I was doing. He told me about Clark Smith, who lived there, and about the family's burial plot back among the trees. Kids had vandalized the headstones years before. So by shear accident, doing a painting of the farm and farm house, creating a chance meeting with that passerby, I was able to answer the question of who was buried there.

Artists around the world speak for their community through their art. An artist in Russia took the time to do a painting of goats in front of an old house. It told me so much about life in Russia. It could have been a painting done around here . A connection was made through that painting. With Ruth Van Sickle's art, people can make a connection to our local past. She recorded places she traveled to, painting scenes of local interest, treating those places she visited with her love of the ordinary. I love artist who are inspired by their home communities.