“They painted it again and again until the paintings achieved a deep chiaroscuro, not because of varnishes or anything else, but because the paint could run deep…”

I appropriated the name for this website from the above closing words of an interview of American painter James Rosenquist who, in a Vanity Fair article back in April 2003 was commenting on the nature of the painters’ art system centuries ago. In question particularly is the chiaroscuro featured in many icons of art through the centuries. Rosenquist’s belief is of its having been achieved by painting over and over the same images, deleting and adding to the composition until one simply got it right, or, to ones liking.

This observation, I believe, bodes well for my work as well, because over the past four years, the paint seems to grow as pliable strata, although not by any scientific or calculated layering (that is, preconceived system of laying paint on as one would accomplish by glazing with transparent colors and gel mediums) but though waiting and observing, and, with an understanding of what the work needs at the very moment the urge to paint arises. I welcome mistakes, with the outlines of those mistakes in relief form; crusted dried pigment ; evidence of the change which has occurred through the painting’s growth.

This is exactly the opposite of working a canvas to a completion over a period of sittings as I used to do when I first started oil painting in 1972, where I would always start with a sketch, and then, in a rather rudimentary order, fill in lights, and then add darks. Finally I would stuff the thing into a frame and then go on to planning the next work. Nowadays, I have a minimum of ten to fifteen things working in “beginning” and “midway” stages of development. In this way there is always something to work on. . . always fresh ideas moving along . . .
A lot of the work in these eight galleries is gone. These are marked as SOLD. For newer work you may click on “WHAT’S NEW”. Also under “What’s New” you will find information about my NEW book: CREATING THE PERFECT WOOD FINISH which is available in signed editions, of course.
         

As I mentioned above, I started painting at twelve. I did watercolors and tempera. I liked monsters from the golden age of movies: The Universal pictures of the thirties and forties and I amassed quite a collection of faces that I taped all over my bedroom wall. I remember a series of heads that I did which were all close up poses of the Man of a Thousand Faces, Lon Chaney Sr. who reigned supreme during the silent films of the 20's : THE MIRACLE MAN, THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME, THE MONSTER, THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA, LONDON AFTER MIDNIGHT, THE UNKNOWN, THE UNHOLY THREE...(The last three mentioned having been directed by Tod Browning who later directed FREAKS).

Chaney, born of deaf mute parents, worked the stage for years before entering the newly born motion picture industry in 1913. from 1913 to 1919 he was in over one hundred films. He was a master at make-up and, consequently, piqued my curiosity and created me to want to become a make-up artist as well. But after three years I learned something,... after three years of collecting and applying different sorts of makeup I learned... even with all the improvements that have been made in the area of special make-up in the past thirty to forty years that no one, but NO ONE could or can accomplish what Chaney did. His world is trapped in celluloid, and the era of his forays a place for dreams... (with all due respect to Jack Pierce, the maestro of so many fine faces from Karloff's Frankenstein in 1931 to Lon Chaney Junior's Wolfman in 1941,... and Dick Smith who is still with us, still teaching, and always astounding. Just look at Little Big Man again, or The Exorcist, or Altered States).

Ahem...but I digress...

I went to Catholic school up until tenth grade then I switched over to South Philadelphia High because Catholic school had become so expensive, my Mother couldn't afford it, and I wasn't about to work to just put myself through Catholic school... I hated school. My art teacher in SPH was named Milton Feldman, and I would say, he, more than anyone else at the time became my mentor. He was a gentle man, short, with a bald head, gray around the temples and a very gentle smile. He had sensitive eyes and was very quick witted. He used to let me work in the back of the room with a few of the other guys and one girl who were all dedicated to creating like myself. We weren't the types that just sat at their desks and drew what it was he told us was our assignment... we did those too, but we thrived on making marks and so, upon seeing these traits, he came to single us out and left us alone in the back of the room to do whatever it was our little hearts desired. He would come up behind you and start massaging your shoulders, he gave counseling; he took interest in the kids

he knew were interested in art and weren't simply there taking up space in his art room because they didn't want to go to gym. I was one of them too. I hated gym. I got out of that senior year with a note he wrote for me telling the gym teacher I was working on a scholarship in art and had to utilize as much time as possible for the completion of my portfolio. Such bullshit. I mean, at seventeen, I didn't know what the hell I wanted to do with my life. Who does? I wanted to paint, and did, but I didn't make and money off it. I had visions of grandeur. I also wrote and still write. Back then I had visions of writing my own book and doing the illustrations, to which Mr. Feldman said, "Publishing is hard enough... to try and do your illustrations too..." and when you'd think he was downplaying your idea, he'd come back and finish with: "but that's a good goal to have...you should always think ahead..." I loved that man. Ed and I recently did a bit on QVC, the shopping channel selling our stripping kits, and there was a representative from Black & Decker who looked awfully familiar. As we talked I mentioned that I had gone to South Philly High and it turns out he was one of the other art teachers along with Mr. Feldman. Sadly, he also told me Mr. Feldman had recently died

.

At seventeen I bought my first oil painting set and started painting. The first things I did were landscapes which I quickly painted over...I think one survives and is owned by a neighbor from the street where I grew up in South Philadelphia. I began reading and going to library. Because of my fascination with Horror films I was a regular reader of FAMOUS MONSTERS OF FILMLAND; this was (and has recently been resurrected from the ashes), a magazine that hit newsstands in 1958 following the success of I WAS A TEENAGE WEREWOLF with Michael Landon. The publisher, James Warren and Forrest J Ackerman as editor, put together an entire magazine of pictures and stories about the golden age of horror films. I devoured each and every copy. Not only did the contents fill me with wonder and awe, but the slick full color covers were done by an artist named Basil Gogos (pronounced Go-gesh). His work was the kind of work I immediately wanted to do and so I set out copying his style, that led to my discovery of Frank Frazetta's work on the covers of EERIE AND CREEPY which were magazines which were published by the same company as Famous Monsters. These magazines were cartoon art and the covers were also glossy stock and full color. Along with Frazetta's work, I relished the brush work of Enrich and Sanjulian... (and if anyone knows the whereabouts of either of these artists I'd be interested in knowing)... but it was Frazetta's that captured and portrayed all of what my mind craved and it is quite apparent when you look at my earliest work: PRINCESS, TWILIGHT, ATLANTIAN, DRAGON WITCH, and OGRE and WIZARD, all portray "Pseudo-Frank" which is the term I still use when I look at the covers of comic art magazines and I see so many weak and pale imitations. When I was younger... and here's where I sound like the old fart, right? When I was younger, there were the artists I mentioned above, Frazetta, Enrich and Sanjulian and they all had their OWN style, but as popularity in that field grew and more magazines began to emerge, other lesser artists began to dabble in the creation of bastardization and I did not want to be one of "they" that were being compared to Frazetta.