This story is a little bit longer than usual … sorry for that …. it just took more words to tell ….
People sometimes ask how I came to study with Ben Long. Like so many of these stories, it pivots on something my family calls Cecil-luck. What’s that? Think Forrest Gump: in a walk-about naivete he bumbled in to something huge … innocently proceeded along …. and, amazingly, everything turned out fine … over and over again. Another apt metaphor is the classic Elvis movie: Elvis is a busboy at the swanky ski lodge, and the dashing nightclub singer breaks his leg so there’s no one to perform for The Big Show! YIKES! Someone happens to mention, “you know, I heard that busboy singing in the club the other night after everyone had left” ….. the reliably aw-shucks-ma’am cheesy Elvis movie plot line. You know, now that I think about it, Cecil-luck generally shows up in the arc of every cheesy Hollywood movie.
The House. I had moved back to Charlotte in my mid-thirties, and was doing public opinion research in an unusual affiliation that allowed me to be both partially employed and a freelancer. It was a very Cecil-luck arrangement. Michael Kampen O’Riley and I, absolutely mad about each other at the time, decided to move in together. Michael lived in a moldy-rented-trailer-just-off-the-highway. Believe me, it was dreadful, but he wasn’t overly concerned about things like that. And obviously, he wasn’t the house buying type. But I was, so I purchased a little bungalow on Club Road. The seller was my college friend, Michael Rouse, an architect who wanted to move to Asheville. He wasn’t quite ready to relocate so the three of us decided to occupy Club Road for the transition. It was mostly a lot of fun, like an episode of Seinfeld. However, I came with a lot of stuff, and on top of what MR already had, things were just too cluttered.
The Yard Sale. I had lived, during my 20’s and 30’s, to make money and shop. But now in the bungalow with two artsy roommates, I was very ready to be sans-stuff ….. and to embark on a post-stuff life. So sister Terri and I, neighbors in Charlotte’s Plaza Midwood, decided to have a BIG yard sale. Since we did BIG signs (ridiculously attention grabbing with the headline Surrender Dorthy) and put them up all over the place, many many many people showed up. I’m not kidding … it was a happening … our first and only yard sale was a grand success. Oddly, I remember that spring morning vividly. I stood under the arch on the front porch looking out over the tables … drinking coffee before the sale started. I remember being a little angstie … and feeling like an actor on an empty stage looking out over an empty theater … right before The Big Show …
The Meet. One of our shoppers was Ben Long; he had recently arrived in town to begin the multi-year work on two major frescoes. He came inside to see a yard-sale loveseat in the back. As he walked through the house he saw my at-home-after-day-job art work …. paintings, mostly portraits and figures … hanging all over the place. At one point in the stroll, he stopped to look at a nude sketch — of Michael. Michael was … hmmmm…. not so impressive as the painter … but fabulous as the art historian and writer. He did studio studies at Tulane, but then came to his senses and did art history and archeology at Penn and Yale. What a brilliant guy …. I’m so blessed to have known him. At any rate, he insisted that I paint from life, and was a really good sport to model for me. One of these sessions produced the piece that stopped the Maestro that day. It’s hanging in StudioKitchen with me now, and is pictured below.
The forever-remembered conversation with Ben in front of that homespun painting still makes me cringe and laugh today.
You painted this?
Yes.
Who are you working with? [note to reader: he meant studying with]
Rawle Murdy. [note to reader: I didn’t understand ‘working with’ so I named my employer. When Ben looked puzzled I clarified] I’m Research Director for an ad agency in Charleston.
Have you ever studied art before?
No.
I’m leading a drawing group, and taking a few students for the summer, Monday thru Friday. Would you like to join?
A drawing group? …. No.
NO? [note to reader: Ben didn’t ask that question very often, and he certainly wasn’t accustomed to hearing no.]
I want to paint, not draw. [note to reader: first of all, how amazing that Ben Long just ask me anything, right?!!! Secondly, I was so incredibly stupid to not even know that drawing is the proper foundation for all art!!!]
Well, why don’t you think it over … (with emphasis) Ask Your Friends … and call me if you change your mind. We start Monday morning. [note to reader: on the way into the house Ben had seen Michael and Michael, so I guess he figured one of these guys would talk some sense into me before Monday. He laughed, and handed me his card. Needless to say, I called him Sunday morning, and showed up for my first drawing class the next day.]
The Gallery. It looks like I may be represented in Charlotte soon. This is a positive development for me … a well established gallery that feels like a good fit. Since we have yet to formalize the arrangement, I don’t want to say more. But I will tell you this: Cecil-luck was involved. Last week I was meeting friends in South End, and had some time to kill before dinner. Every artist knows you NEVER walk into a gallery with your portfolio, no appointment, and ask if they want to represent you. It’s terrible form, and very likely to irritate the gallery owner. But for some reason, that’s exactly what I did. And as Cecil-luck would have it, everything seems to have turned out fine.
The gallery is talking about a solo show in the spring. Of course, I’m still struggling, but I know in my heart I’ve arrived at the very end of the hungry years … I can feel the final lap. So these next months will be a time of immense joy … delicious solitude … creative lust … maybe even faith for dinner. Spring sounds like a long way off, but in a painter’s world it’s next week. And I am N. O. T. hanging a solo show with old work. So stay tuned…
I drove by the Club Road bungalow this past week. From the outside it looks mostly the same. The current owners are in mid-remodel. My guess is they are are finishing the attic … or maybe putting an addition on the back. But the arch on the front porch is still there … still framing an empty stage right before The Big Show.
