My Future's Past 5

Little, J, Bash, Gabs, Dupester, and Pedro.

The creative energy in the early days of a rock band is powerful.   I sat in the rehearsal room, listening and sometimes contributing to, although not very well, to the songwriting, the discussion and debate.  The times before the frustration and egos take a toll on collaboration, those days are like magic.  Hopes and dreams are still possible, and the music lived. 

David Aguiar lead vocals and lyrics 

Scootty Bash on lead guitar and vocals

Scott Dupre bass and backing vocals 

John Almeida rhythm guitar backing vocals and Portuguese 'shine.

Gary Soares drums, thunder, and humor.

4/4 Time That's Rock and Roll

2x3in raw sketch, 18x18 charcoal drawing, 18x24 oil on canvas 

1991

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My Future's Past 6

For a time I delved into the world on the cubists.  A limited color range and a series of fractured figures dominated myvwork for a few years.  I have written about some of my early music inspired work and now i will talk about some of the figure work.

With a blatant nod to Picasso, i took 3 drawings of one model from my college sketch books, and created this composition first in charcoal, then in this limited palette.  For a time, I really worked at understanding cubism, and worked it into my core.  This painting is fundamental to my evolution as a painter.

Sharp eyed folks who know my work, may notice a light bulb and an open window.  This is one of my earliest explorations into multiple light sources... I will bring that up later as it becomes more important in later works...  notice also, the repetitive circles, like morse code, dotting across the picture plane.  There is alot going on in this one that evolved throughout my painting life.

MADEMOISELLES

about 17x24 oil on canvas 1987

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My Future's Past 4

Another music themed post, with another early journey expressing late nights filled with emotionally charged music performed by close friends. 

This one means alot to me. I have shared it before . 

Early on, I began to focus on the importance of gesture in hands.  I made them larger and more important than they seem to be in nature or photography. I distort them into unattractive unnatural shapes that express emotion and drive the narrative..  For guitarists, its all in the fingers, the music lives through touch..

These early musician paintings developed a vocabulary of shapes that would evolve and propel my current work.

With continuing gratitude to Pedro, Little J., Bash, Dupester, and Gabs.

ROCK AND ROLL NIGHT

18x24 oil on canvas 1990

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My Future Past 3

If you have seen in earlier posts, in my younger days, (can't believe i can actually say that), I spent alot of time following my friends who worked as musicians.

Small clubs, bars, restaurants, and festivals... my sketchbook and I went all over and stayed up late.  I have never attempted to create a likeness or a portrait in my work   I was after the moment, a feeling, sometimes a song.  I prefer the viewer to interpret the work, much like the musicians do with music lyics and rhythm.  This theme has been sort of a side gig throughout my painting carrer, much like lit is for the performers themselves.

This painting was based upon the performance of a friend who now follows my work.  I wonder if the performer will recognize and appreciate the work.  I never acknowledged the inspiration for this painting.

Everyone, feel free to guess.  Who is...

THE TROUBADOUR

oil on canvas 1987

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My Future's Past 2

The Rape

1986

Oil on canvas aprox 11x14

     It was about this time that my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer.  My grandmother battled later stage kidney disease brought on by diabetes.  Sitting on the screened in porch of their home , they both opened up with stories that were never really shared with the grandkids.  They shared a challenging life, raising five kids in a two bedroom home my wife and I sometimes find a bit small.  They talked about financial struggles and the worries of maintaining employment in a milltown with little regard for the laborers.  Unions were at their strongest providing medical insurance and leads to the next factory with a big contract.  They both worked without much open complaint, soetime sixty or even more hours.  The real money for my grandfather was in the overtime.  My Grandmother, working as a piecework presser made her money with her speed and efficiency, but there was little quality time left for family, and that had other costs, and longer tales.

    Those discussions fueled my own fires.  As a young man I was filled with rage and fear.  I knew I wanted nothing to do with those damned factories.  My path led through the U.S. Coast Guard and into college studying art.  After a day listening to the tales from my elders, I returned to the studio and painted a scream.  There are attempts at symbolology and a search for a voice.  This image haunts me.

    

    Both of my grandparent passed away within five years of me paintng this one.  Both endured years of physical pain.  But they saw me earn my degree, and they attended my first solo exibit.  I think they were proud.

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My Future's Past 1

The Factory and theTree

oil on canvas aprox 18x24

     I am going to post for a bit, a series of older works I pulled out of my storage spot... this is work I still enjoy from the mid 1980's till 2010. Hope folks enjoy.

     This one goes way back... this was a student piece. Early in my last year of undergraduate school I painted this on location. I was looking for a nice spot along the beautiful Wattuppa Pond in my home town, Fall River. But the shoreline was grown over abd not accessable.  The city, an old mill town, was once the textile capitol ofcthe entire USA, really.  At some point I was behind the Kerr Mill, an old factory turned outlet store selling factory seconds and overstocks, before they got all commercialized. 

     I was thinking about Charles Sheeler and Picasso, Pollack, and a few others... this was the very start of finding my voice, thw genesis of mt self  The beginning of what I would ultimately call fusionism, my "style" when asked what it was called.

      One afternoon, I entered my studio to find one of my professors, Sig Haines, (sophomore painting), sitting in my chair, studying at this painting.  Sig is a colorist with impeccable drawing skills, considered by many, including me, to be a true contemporary master. He looked from the painting and said to me, "I love coming into your studio, Chuck.  There is always something good on your easel." Later, as I was working as an artist, showing regularly, gaining a following, he told me this was the painting that told him I could be a painter. (Took awhile to catch up to my Swain school peers, as I was a transfer student).  That comment has stayed with me 40 years.  I remember it whenever I look at this painting.  I have never let it go.

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Endurance

Winter.

Endurance 1 36x60 inches oil on canvas

Endurance 2 36x36 inches oil on canvas

    

Endurance 3 36x60 oil on canvas

Endurance 4 36x36 inches oil on canvas

       I paused, because that's what happens to me when the air gets cold, the trees are bare, and the lawn is hard and frozen.  I pause, hiding from the bitterness, long shadows and icicles. I look for movies or shows to watch, wrapped in a blanket with a sweet warm snack. 

And I paint, always, I paint.

Winter.

       As 2022 began, I found a challenge. I had a seed in my heart that needed to bloom.  In October of '21,  my wife and I drove to the White Mountains on just the right day and I saw the epic color I had searched for since I first heard about it long ago and I needed to translate what I felt seeing that color, through my heart, my hand and my brush.

        I did not forsee the five month challenge it became.  Four panels, each one three feet by five feet, covered in small strokes of bold and vivid color, but that's where I went.

       From across a briskly running river, the immense power of golden foliage struck out and buried me in color.  I stood within the shadows along the shore, listening to the harmonies of rushing water, and on some level, the soprano of the high key of yellow.

       The color and the sound blended like a well crafted stage set. Could see it, feel it, hear it, even, I think, taste it. I was enraptured. Every sense satiated and inspired.

       After several attempt to express that nearly overwhelming moment, or two, I realized the only way I could capture and express what I felt was through scale with four canvases on four easels reaching from Wall to Wall enveloping my studio and my thoughts, and my emotion. My muse was singing like the cast of a Broadway musical. 

    So...   Five days a week, sometimes more, for close to six months.   

       Here it is. . 

       ENDURANCE.  

Endurance  60x144 inches oil on canvas

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