Principle Gallery Redtree Invitation, 2000
Fogeydom is the last bastion of the bore and reminiscence is its anthem. It is futile to want the old days back, but that doesn’t mean one should ignore the lessons of the visitable past.
–Paul Theroux, Remember the Cicadas and the Stars?
Don’t mean to be an old fogey but the following does have a reminiscence. However, it does have a lesson. Or so I think. Let’s begin this way:
It’s that time of the year when I finally get to some home and studio repairs and maintenance. Much of my days are spent on the several projects on my list, some of which have been waiting for well over a decade. Maybe even two decades. Who’s counting at this point?
One of the projects was a small one, organizing a cupboard filed with old show invitations along with magazines and books that feature my work. It was a pleasant stroll down Memory Lane going through the many invitations, seeing both the differences and similarities down through the years. Some really jumped out at me and some were much more understated.
But one made me stop for a bit to consider it. It was an invitation from my first solo show at the Principle Gallery in Alexandria from June,2000. It was the show that formally introduced the Red Tree to the world and was simply titled Redtree. I was still using it as one word then though I don’t recall ever consciously changing it.
As I said, it made me stop for a few moments to let a wave of memories wash over me. It was an important show for me then and now. It was a nerve-wracking experience since it was my first real experience in carrying a solo show in a regular gallery and I saw it as possibly my one and only chance to exhibit on such a large stage. A bad show would have devastated me and I knew it. After all, I was only several years removed from the darkest period of my life, the memories of which were still fresh. I knew I was fortunate to have such an opportunity so soon and needed it to succeed more than I would ever admit at the time.
Fortunately, Lady Luck was on my side. I am not going to go into the details right now, but it was wildly successful night with a whirlwind of people for which I was totally unprepared. When the last person finally left the gallery and the door was locked, Michele and the rest of the gallery staff and I stopped and looked at each other for a ripe moment. I remember saying, “What the hell just happened?”
As I said, it was an important show for me. It gave me a degree of confidence that I was lacking and set the table for years ahead. More importantly, it tattooed the Red Tree on me and I have carried it ever since.
All this and more as I looked at the old invitation. The painting on its cover was titled Redtree, of course. Seeing this reminded me of its sad history. It was a large oil painting on mounted paper that framed out at 40″ high by 60″ wide under glass. It sold to a collector from Wisconsin and in shipment was severely damaged. When the painting came back to me, I could hear the mounds of shards of glass shifting in the crate. There were slashes and holes throughout the surface of painting. It was not repairable. Fortunately, it was insured but the loss of the painting that symbolized that show hurt a bit.
The painting still lives with me now. It was in a box in my old studio for years, even as the old studio began to fall down. I finally brought it down and pulled it out. It is a bit grimy and the red of the tree is less vibrant. It now hangs in a work area of my basement where I stain frames. It is attached to the wall at one end of the space, used to cover some exposed waste lines going out of the basement.
It might seem a sad end for a piece that has meant so much for me. I don’t see it that way. I see it as a lesson for a life. Though it had its day in the sun and was admired by many, it has taken a beating and has the scars to show for it. It exists now in much more humble surroundings than it was originally destined for.
But it serves a purpose and more than that, it endures. On good days, its strength and beauty still outshine its scratches, scars, and scuffs. And looking over at it now when I am working down there makes me smile, even if it is a bittersweet one at that.
I can relate to it and I believe it can relate to me. We’re pretty much alike.
It also reminds me that this coming year’s show at the Principle Gallery will be the 25th anniversary of that show. It’s hard for me to fathom because in a lot of ways I still feel like that untested guy with shaky nerves before that first show. I am excited for this year’s show and am frantically running concepts and such through my head for the work that will be in it.
It’s pretty much the same feeling as it was back in 2000. Some things never change.
Like the Redtree, they endure.
The Redtree as it is today.
Redtree Times 