When I was a small child, my dad, Hal, an ad exec and serious weekend artist, would get up early with me each Saturday morning. This kindness gave my stay-at-home mom a chance to sleep in and gave Dad and me a chance to draw and play school together. His hair a mess, steaming cup of coffee in hand, Dad would sit down beside me on our living room rug, a gesture that made me feel ridiculously important.
At our grade school, The Palace of Learning—which remained in pretend business for years—the students were the many palm-sized paper dolls I drew with crayons. Dad would cut one out as fast as I could draw the next. My father and I were the heads of school—his moniker, “Mr. Boyd,” mine, “Giant Little Girl.” Each week, we named the newly drawn students and assigned each pupil talents, flaws, and circumstantial limitations. This game taught me to appreciate early in life the structure of narrative, the intrigue of characterization, and the power of art and imagination to ignite our daily lives with color and interest. Both my writing pursuits and my job directing the MFA in Creative Writing and Publishing Arts at the University of Baltimore are organic extensions of this game. (Thank you, Dad.)
Dad, now 90, and my mother, Clifford, 91, live in a double-house with me and my twin sons, Texas and Miner, who are almost 11. Despite worsening COPD and often debilitating knee pain, my father paints as many days of the week as he can find the strength. When he’s not feeling up to the trip by chairlift to his studio, he pencils wild scenes in a journal he keeps beside his armchair, the book a gift from my son, Texas, who also loves to draw. In honor of Dad’s grand finale art show, “Signifiers”—opening this Saturday at Gallery Blue Door—I talked to him about creativity, what it’s like to make art at 90, and why he still fights to practice regularly this deep craft that has spanned his long life. We hope you can make it to his show.
Why do you think people make art, Dad?
People make art to express themselves, for recognition, and to earn money. There may be other reasons. I believe self-expression and recognition–fame–are the main reasons people make art.
Why do you make art?
I make art because I have to. From childhood, I have felt driven to make pictures–to create images. I want to see what I am thinking.
Who doesn’t like recognition and sales?
Ha, ha. Recognition and sales are important to me, but they are not my main motivation. Of course, I really respect artists who live by their art.
Where do you find your images?
They come from my unconscious. I may start either by making marks or maybe with a picture in mind, but I am open to discovery; and soon unexpected images begin to suggest themselves and to develop.
What is your favorite painting in the new show?
My favorite piece in the show is “Beauty Shop,” inspired by a sentence written by one of my grandsons: “The man behind something withered Ted.”
Who are your favorite painters?
I admire lots of artists, but I especially admire Pierre Bonnard, Henri Matisse, and Vincent Van Gogh. Having said that, my all-time personal favorite painting is probably “Self Portrait (Inn of the Dawn Horse),” by Leonora Carrington.
How do you know when a painting is finished?
A painting is done when I can neither add to, nor take from, the piece without compromising what I see as its strength and distinctiveness.
What obstacles have made it hardest to paint in the last year?
Musculoskeletal pains severely limit my movements, and the drugs to control the pain seem to blur my vision.
How does painting affect your mood and outlook?
I grow anxious when I cannot get to the easel. I sketch daily to relieve my boredom. I feel anxious and down as images and fantasized paintings pile up in my mind. I enlist wonderful helpers (artists themselves) to sit with me and help by opening and closing paints, lifting canvases, moving my chair, et cetera.
Are you more or less confident now at 90 than you were at 19?
I’m more realistically confident at ninety. At nineteen, I was confident of dreamy fame. At ninety, I am grateful for modest achievements and confident that I can continue to achieve things worth achieving.
“Signifiers” opens Saturday, May 17–reception 4-6 p.m.–and runs through July 26 at Gallery Blue Door, 833 Park Avenue in Baltimore.
What a beautiful story!