FAMILY PORTRAITS 

When I was a young art student at Rhode Island School of Design we had drawing, design, and painting classes that lasted for many hours accompanied by seemingly endless critiques. We learned our craft with rigor and we learned how to think and talk about art. At that time Pop Art was taking over the art world so as we continued to paint traditional still lives, they became populated increasingly by American flags and Mickey Mouse toys. Then there was Op Art and one “ism” after another. I did not join any of these movements but continued to learn how to draw. For young artists at that time the most intimidating thing was the blank canvas and the question ‘what to paint”.  

I have made art about my life. Now, many years later, I see that not joining a movement and not making work for commercial galleries was a conscious choice made again and again. My art is not political and it is not made to be a commodity.

When I left RISD, and after getting married a few years later, we moved to Vermont and began to have a family. My friends were hippies who lived in communes and on farms with lots of animals. I was idealistic and thought of myself as the artist of the town. I painted signs for the store owners, repaired antiques, and painted and sculpted portraits including wedding portraits. The many portraits of my family began at that time.  

Twenty five years later when I was teaching at the Harvard University Graduate School of Design I went back to RISD to complete my bachelor’s degree. I found that the dominant ideology in university art departments was, at that time, Marxist Feminism, even though the Berlin Wall was about to come down. I was told by a New York critic-professor that I should not make any more art because I was a white male.  This statement seems more absurd to me now when I look at this drawing of my daughter Rachel that I made when she was five years old.   I endured the theory classes, the bad performances, and the bad political art. My BFA Show was a large gallery room full of hundreds of works of art of my children, not something that a New York Gallery could sell, not political, but which my fellow students loved. They said things about it being art that is very different, and refreshing, and art that is indeed about life.

 

                            

       The Artist       Winona                                 

                                                                                                                        

 

 

Joseph Edmund

 

 

Rachel

 

 

Kathleen Bridget

 

 

John Raphael

 

 

Edmund Matthew Cornelius

 

 

 

Christian Paul

 

 

Mary Cecilia

 

 

Big Chris

 

  

 

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