The Online Hermann-Paul Project

A retired Massachusetts state trooper who was featured in a prominent Norman Rockwell illustration has died according to the Associated Press. He was 83 years old.

Norman Rockwell created over 4000 original works in his lifetime, a fraction of which can be considered icons of Americana. One of those works is The Runaway, a 1958 illustration for the Saturday Evening Post.

The illustration features a young boy on a diner stool with a runaway knapsack on the ground beneath him. A state trooper leans over from an ajacent stool and counsels the wayward lad. The trooper was Staff Sgt. Richard Clemens Jr., Rockwell’s neighbor in real life. The pair lived in the Berkshires at the time.

The artist asked Clemens to pose with the boy, Ed Locke, in a local Howard Johnson’s diner. Rockwell produced the illustration from photographs taken on location.

In 2008, Clemens and Locke were reunited to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the work. Locke, who was eight at the time of the illustration, is unable to recall most of the details from that day but one thing remains clear in his memory: Clemens let him wail the police siren.

While Clemens had a copy of The Runaway in his house, it was not his favorite Rockwell.

“One of those I like best is ‘Freedom From Want,’ where everybody is sitting around having dinner and mother is bringing in a turkey and putting it down,” he told the Albany Times Union. “If you look closely, everybody sitting at the table has a glass in front of them. And every glass has water and in the water there’s ice. That’s the kind of detail he could paint.”

[Albany Times Union]

The autopsy report for Thomas Kinkade was released yesterday. According to the Santa Clara County medical examiner, he died of an accidental overdose of Valium and alcohol. The reaction to the news mixed with empathy and snark. His supporters lamented his inner demons while his detractors amused themselves at his expense.

The following is a Children’s Collection of Snarky Kinkade Comments that were harvested from these fine Internets:

jesuschrist666
he should have prayed harder

mrdoomngloom
That cozy log cabin, with fragrant smoke lightly filling the winter
air from the chimney, in a snowy forest…may you haters burn in that
cabin, as its goes up in a flash fire, from Thomas’ accidentally
spilled bourbon as he staggered to the back door to relieve himself in
the snow.

jayszip
His work was an important representation of unimportant art.

American and Proud
I heard [h]is art was paint by numbers. He did a nice job.

JohnnyRocco
> Artists seem to always struggle with depression and substance
> abuse. I guess even Christians ones do too.

So how does that explain Kinkaide’s problem?

jmsdh
Finally, Kinkade turned the numbing effect of his production-line
paintings on himself. If you take a stiff drink his cuddly balderdash
might look like art. Better make it two.

Darr Sandberg
> Kinkade absolutely captured that like no other artist could

You owe it to yourself to see more figurative art. Seriously

SylvreWolfe
I refer to it as the KMart Blue Light Special of painting

 

Thomas Kinkade died of “natural causes” this weekend. The self proclaimed “painter of light” left behind a wife, kids and a sizeable fortune. He made his money the old fashioned way: with huge reproduction runs. He was the Robert Wood of moral set.

Morley Safer has taken heat for his hit pieces on contemporary art. Safer questioned whether or not cutting edge works qualified as art. While his assessment of Jeff Koons may have missed, his summation of Thomas Kinkade landed squarely: “If you like six sugars in your coffee, these are the paintings for you.” Complexity is an acquired taste which can be stunted with large doses of sugar.

While Koons enjoyed incredible success at the high end of the art market, Kinkade built a fortune at thousand dollar clips. It is estimated that 1 in 20 American homes contains at least one of his works. Millions more owned Kinkade trinkets like puzzles and coffee cups that have since acquired a sugary patina.

Every artist has a unique vocabulary that characterizes his work. Kinkade’s was extremely narrow. It would be easy to identify his work without a signature if not for the fact that it might be confused with a Hallmark card.

That narrow skill set appealed to a large audience. Kinkade connected with people who liked shiny objects. They bought his work on the misguided notion that it contained value. On the outside chance they you’re reading this and you own Kinkade: sell it now. Dying was the best thing he could do for those who own his work. The window is small because the Kinkade phenomena will soon follow the artist to his grave. Kitsch is kitsch, people. And it’s not worth much.

The arts are generally not a good pursuit for impatient individuals. With few exceptions, it generally takes years of toil and persistence to gain recognition. Van Gogh famously worked in virtual anonymity until his paintings broke sales records after his death. It’s hard to convince girls your dish washing gig is only temporary. “Once I’m discovered, I’ll pay my share of rent!”

Andrzej Sobiepan is a young Polish artist with either no patience or a very persistent girlfriend. He couldn’t stand the thought of toiling in obscurity.  ”I decided that I will not wait 30 or 40 years for my works to appear” in a museum. Rather than bother curators with the laborious task of hanging his art, Sobiepan hung it for them. He walked into the Wroclaw National Museum and hung one of his paintings.

Sobiepan carefully chose a spot in the contemporary room for his small painting of a drooping leaf. He placed it after the guard wandered into another room. The painting remained undetected for three days. Once it was discovered, the museum director labeled it a “witty artistic happening.” The museum moved it near the gift shop. Since its discovery, the work had generated a good deal of buzz. It will be auctioned for charity.

Sobiepan accomplished his mission – his name is now recognized by the Polish art establishment. And what a name it is. According to Monika Scislowska, an AP reporter, “Sobiepan” translates to “his own master.” Unfortunately, “His Own Master” is a follower, not an innovator. The British artist Banksy pulled this stunt back in 2005 when he hung several of his own works in various New York galleries.

It was the Age of the Robber Barons, a time when Industrialists could amass huge fortunes in a manner that one muckraker termed “immoral, unethical, and unjust.” As coffers filled, these New World aristocrats sought Old World treasures to help affirm their place beside the great houses of Europe.

She was a German baroness whose house was in decline. Among her relics was a painting loosely attributed to Michelangelo. She shipped it to America in the hope that it might fetch a nice sum on the market there. There were no takers. The painting passed to an acquaintence and eventually to the hands of a middle-class Rochester family. In a manner that was certainly tongue-in-cheek, they referred to it as “The Mike.”

Some time in the 1970s, the Mike fell as it was dusted so the Kober family placed it behind a sofa where it remained until it was inherited by Martin Kober.

After retirement, the former fighter pilot took renewed interest in the work. With the help of an Italian art historian, they were unable to discount the possibility that it was painted by Michelangelo. In fact the pair are certain it was painted by the Rennaisannce master. Officially, the jury is still out.

In a recent twist to this story the painting, La Pieta With Two Angels, is headed to Rome where it will be included in an exhibition of Renaissance art. This is a good step towards acceptance by the art world. For now it will appear in the exhibition as “in the style of Michelangelo.” The distinction is important. Should the painting be accepted — if goes from Michelangeloesque to Michelangelo — it would be worth between 100 and 300 million dollars.