Draw, Partner

The most difficult part of the creative process has always been getting started. In what has become standard operating procedure, I plan, I prepare, I procrastinate. I move things around the studio. Then, thankfully, it’s time for lunch.

The nay-sayers in my head must also be dealt with. They continually question my methods. “Who will buy that?” they chide. When all else fails, they wonder if I even have what it takes to make art. The eventual creation of anything becomes a blessed relief.

Now a new mental obstacle has taken up residence. Having finally begun a painting, I find myself easily distracted and unable to focus for long. I begin and immediately want to end. It is a curious and unsettling state, as if my thought process has condensed like a Twitter tweet.

As a way of coping with this condition, I have fallen back on an old friend – gesture drawing. This brush-drawing method challenges me to say the most with the least. It is art-making pared down to its essential structure. What is begun is quickly finished. My concern is no longer “What do I say?” but “Have I said too much?”

The Great White Hunter

Today I finished the last painting of a portrait series I’ve been working on for six months. The nine mostly mixed-media pieces on masonite comprise a group of iconic figures that sprang from the imagination.

With no apparent antecedents in the world out here, they function more like emotional signposts – states of mind with which to become acquainted.

Working in a rapid wet on wet method with a palette knife gave me the opportunity to quickly capture fleeting images. I’ve just now reached the point of feeling comfortable with this gestural painting style – comfortable as I can be in a nine by nine inch format. Four by six foot canvasses lean against my studio wall, an all too obvious next challenge.

Jack Barrett Retrospective

In 1984 I moved back to Florida with the idea of finding employment in graphic design, the same kind of work I had done for fifteen years. Daily I scoured the St. Petersburg Times classifieds in hopes of landing a lucrative job I felt I richly deserved.

My searches were in vain, but I discovered something else that would be just as rewarding. It was there in the Times I began seeing the wonderful art of Jack Barrett, first in small spot drawings and news features and later in full-color illustrations.

Jack’s work made an immediate impression, being neither cartoons nor generic clip art, but a style quite different. His bold figurative drawings demanded attention and I realized here was no mere illustrator but an original artist.

Jack retired from the Times in 1989 to pursue fine art full time and his paintings began showing up in gallery exhibitions. His was a rich painter’s vocabulary, and no matter the style, from meticulous realism to loose expressionism, Jack’s vision always shone through.

Over the years, Jack stayed true to the belief of the artist as storyteller, and to his credit his narrative paintings never give anything away. They, instead, pull the viewer in and allow them to become part of the story. His art retains mystery and freshness on the fourth viewing or the fortieth.

Jack passed away in February of this year and The Arts Center in St. Petersburg has mounted a large retrospective, Jack Barrett: A Soul's Journey. This week I had the pleasure of viewing the exhibition with curator Amanda Cooper, who shared insightful stories of Jack and his art making.

Of particular interest is a wall size display of a small portion of Jack’s many sketch books. Standing in front of this time line of masterful gesture and spontaneity was an awe inspiring experience.