TWO FREDS GIVE US A GOOD NIGHT OF MUSIC ON THE BARGE - DEFY WEATHER PREDICTIONS - THE SHOW MUST GO ON
WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE IF PINE BOUGHS HAD BEEN CLEANED UP
WHEN I ASKED A FELLOW TAXPAYER, IN CASUAL CONVERSATION, AT THE LAST MUSIC ON THE BARGE CONCERT, ABOUT HOW LONG IT WOULD TAKE FOR THE TOWN TO CLEAN GULL LAKE PARK, OF THE STREWN PINE BOUGHS, HE LAUGHED, SMILED, AND SAID "THREE MONTHS!" "IF A FEW VOLUNTEERS GOT TOGETHER," I ASKED IN RETURN. HE NODDED, WINKED, AND CHUCKLED, "AT MOST, A COUPLE OF HOURS!" NOW I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT TREE CUTTING AND REMOVAL. I'M REFERRING TO THE NUMBER OF BROKEN-OFF BOUGHS, OF VARIOUS SIZES, STILL MARRING THE LANDSCAPE FOR NO APPARENT REASON…..OTHER THAN A WORK CREW FIGURED IT LOOKED NATURAL…..IN PILES, SO WHY CLEAN IT UP?
WHILE SOME OF THE STORM'S CAST-DOWN DEBRIS HAS BEEN CLEARED AWAY……(BUT WASN'T FOR THE LAST CONCERT), IT IS HARD TO UNDERSTAND WHY THIS BEAUTIFUL PARK WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ADEQUATELY PICKED-UP IN THE DAYS SINCE THE BIG STORM. IN A WORK WEEK, "CLEANING UP GULL LAKE PARK" SHOULD HAVE BEEN PENCILED ONTO THE AGENDA. THIS WOULD BE BASED ON PUBLIC LIABILITY, TRIPPING OVER DEBRIS, AND ON PARK USAGE, WHICH IS HIGH THIS TIME OF YEAR.
IF WE HAVE PARKS AND RECREATION WORK CREWS, AND THEY PRESUMABLY CLEAN-UP DEBRIS FROM "PARKS," (AND IT'S NOT LIKE THEY'RE DOING IT AS VOLUNTEERS) HOW IS IT THAT MANAGEMENT OF THESE FOLKS, DOESN'T FOLLOW-UP ON THE JOBS GIVEN. OR WAS THIS NOT A TASK FOR THE WEEK? I'VE GOT AN IDEA. WHY DON'T THE TOWN COUNCILLORS GET THE HELL DOWN TO THE PARK, AND HELP THE CREW TIDY-UP……..OR AT LEAST DIRECT THE CLEAN-UP EFFORT…..OR PUT A NOTE IN THE NEWSPAPER ASKING FOR COMMUNITY VOLUNTEERS, TO LEND A HAND FOR A FEW HOURS, TO DEAL WITH A MANPOWER SHORTAGE; IF THAT'S THE PROBLEM. IF THEY DON'T BELIEVE THESE LIMBS ARE A PROBLEM, OR A VISUAL DISTRACTION FROM THE NICE PARK IT IS, WE SHOULD THEN RUN A TEST CASE. LET'S TAKE THE GATHERED BLOWN-OFF BOUGHS, AND DUMP THEM DOWN ON THE MUSKOKA WHARF PLAYING FIELD, SCATTER THEM ABOUT, AND SEE HOW LONG IT TAKES, FOR A RAPID REACTION TEAM TO CLEAN IT UP, NEAT-AS-A-WHISTLE. ALL THIS WOULD DO ANYWAY, IS TO PROVE A POINT THAT MANY LOCALS FEEL PRESENTLY……AND THAT IS, THERE IS NOTICEABLE, PREFERENTIAL TREATMENT FOR THE WHARF PROPERTY…….AND BANDAIDS FOR GULL LAKE PARK. HONESTLY, THERE IS NO EXCUSE FOR THOSE BOUGHS TO BE SCATTERED ANYWHERE ACROSS GULL LAKE PARK, OR IN THE PARKING AREA BY THE TENNIS COURTS, ADJACENT TO BETHUNE DRIVE.
A WEEK AFTER THE STORM, IT'S OBVIOUS OUR COUNCILLORS NEED TO GET OUT FOR A WALK NOW AND AGAIN….AND SEE FOR THEMSELVES THAT THEIR HISTORIC AND CENTRAL PARK IS PROPERLY MAINTAINED AND CLEANED. AND YES, WE HAVE A RIGHT TO ASK THIS OF OUR TOWN, AND WE EXPECT FOLLOW-THROUGH…….NOT THREE MONTHS LATER. WE HAVE LARGE AUDIENCES AT THE PARK THROUGH THE WEEK. NOT JUST FOR MUSIC ON THE BARGE. IT IS OUR SHOWPIECE. OUR JEWEL. AND SEEING AS WE ARE ALWAYS CRYING ABOUT MAKING THE TOURISM INDUSTRY MORE DYNAMIC AND PROFITABLE, THEN WE SHOULD STOP CUTTING CORNERS ON IMPORTANT ISSUES LIKE APPEARANCES. THIS PARK PROMOTES US AS A TOURISM DESTINATION. IT'S JUST A PARK, BUT BOY OH BOY, IS IT EVER AN IMPORTANT AMBASSADOR OF GOODWILL FOR OUR GUESTS. WE DON'T NEED A COMMISSION OR A SPECIALLY PREPARED CONSULTANT'S REPORT TO FIND THIS OUT. JUST HANG AROUND THE PARK FOR A COUPLE OF WEEKS, AND OBSERVE THE USERS OF THE PROPERTY. WE SHOULD BE SHOWING THEM THE BEST PARK IN MUSKOKA. WHAT IT TAKES FROM THE TOWN IS NOTHING MORE THAN FUNDAMENTAL, NOTHING FANCY, ATTENTION TO DETAIL; AND IT WOULDN'T HURT TO SET THE BAR JUST A TAD HIGHER, FOR WHAT CAN BE DONE TO KEEP IT NEAT AND TIDY ON A DAILY BASIS…….PICKING UP NATURAL DEBRIS ON THE "AS AND WHERE FOUND" BASIS.
AS A SIDEBAR - WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON WITH TWO HEAVY BOUGHS HANGING DOWN OVER THE SIDEWALK ON MARY STREET, JUST UP FROM THE HIGH SCHOOL? IF SOMEONE WAS TO PULL ON THOSE TREE-TO-GROUND LIMBS, AND SNAP THEM OFF AT THE TRUNK, THE WHIPLASH CREATED COULD CAUSE SERIOUS INJURY. WHAT DOES IT TAKE, FOR THE TOWN TO RECOGNIZE THEIR LIABILITY……ON THEIR (OUR) SIDEWALK. IT COULD ALSO BE SAID OF SOME ROADS IN THE TOWN, WHERE BROKEN LIMBS PROTRUDE ONTO THE ROAD. I'M GENUINELY SURPRISED THE LEGAL EAGLES WITH THE TOWN, AREN'T CONCERNED ABOUT THE "WHAT IFS" REGARDING STORM DAMAGE IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN, MORE THAN A WEEK AFTER THE CRISIS. I AM TRULY MIFFED AT WHAT THIS TOWN REGARDS AS A PRIORITY THESE DAYS, BUT I'M HOPEFUL, BEFORE THE END OF THEIR TERM, THEY WILL FIGURE OUT THAT NOT ALL COUNCIL BUSINESS OCCURS AT TOWN HALL, OR AT RIBBON CUTTING EVENTS. IF THE SAME DEBRIS FIELD, WOUND UP IN ANY OF OUR COUNCILLORS' YARDS, HOW LONG WOULD IT BE IGNORED? OR WOULD IT BE DEALT WITH IMMEDIATELY. I HAVE SOME ANSWERS TO THIS, BUT I'LL LEAVE IT TO MY READERS TO ASSESS THIS ON THEIR OWN.
POINT IS, DEAR COUNCILLORS. IF YOU WOULDN'T ACCEPT THE BOUGHS STREWN ON YOUR PROPERTY…..THINKING OF THEM AS CREATING DISORDER, AND UNSIGHTLINESS AMONGST THE SHRUBBERY, THEN HOW CAN YOU IGNORE THE CONDITION OF GULL LAKE PARK, OR ANYWHERE ELSE, IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN, STILL COVERED WITH DEBRIS? I DON'T CARE, AT THIS POINT, WHO IS CALLING THE SHOTS AT TOWN HALL, BUT IT'S GOT TO GET BETTER REAL SOON. LEADERSHIP IS A FIRST STEP. RAKE IN HAND.
THEY BEAT THE ODDS ONE MORE TIME
WHAT A GREAT NIGHT. I DON'T KNOW IF ANY TOWN OF GRAVENHURST COUNCILLORS WERE IN ATTENDANCE. THEY SHOULD HAVE BEEN. THEY NEED TO BE SEEN AT THIS EVENT, AND NOT JUST FOR THE SEVERAL MINUTES SPARED DURING THE INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS, AT THE FIRST CONCERT OF THE SEASON. IT'S NOT A LOT TO ASK. REALLY! THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN A TOWN OFFICIAL AT LAST WEEK'S CONCERT, TO ADDRESS THE PUBLIC, REGARDING THE STORM AND THE DESTRUCTION OF THE PARK PINERY. IT'S A FUNDAMENTAL PROTOCOL OF BEING AN ELECTED FIGURE. IT DIDN'T HAVE TO BE THE MAYOR OR THE DEPUTY MAYOR……HOW ABOUT A COUNCILLOR WITH A VOICE. THAT WOULD HAVE MEANT A LOT TO SOME OF THE MEMBERS OF THE AUDIENCE, WHO HAD SUFFERED MAJOR DAMAGE TO THEIR PROPERTIES, AND WHO WERE DAYS AWAY FROM HAVING THEIR POWER RESTORED…..BUT FOUND TIME TO COME TOGETHER AS GOOD NEIGHBORS FOR A LITTLE LIGHT HEARTED ENTERTAINMENT AT A TOUGH TIME.
IT WAS DOWN TO THE WIRE, WHETHER (WEATHER) THE HEAVENS WOULD OPEN ON THE TWO SHOW-HOSTING FREDS, (CROSSING THEIR RESPECTIVE FINGERS IN PRIVATE), OF THE WEEKLY MUSIC ON THE BARGE PERFORMANCE, AT ROTARY GULL LAKE PARK. ON ONE HAND, BARGE MANAGER FRED SCHULZ, HAD A TOUGH CALL TO MAKE…….RUNNING THE SHOW WHEN THERE WAS A GOOD CHANCE OF RAIN AND A POTENTIAL THUNDERSTORM TO CROSS THE LAKELAND. WE ALL REMEMBER THE THUNDERSTORM FROM A WEEK AGO, ESPECIALLY ALONG THIS PATH…..GULL LAKE RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE. FRED, OF "FREDDY VETTE AND THE FLAMES," JUST WANTED TO PLAY THE VENUE…..ONE OF THEIR FAVORITES ON THE ONTARIO PERFORMANCE CIRCUIT. ONE FRED WORRIED ABOUT GETTING WET; THE OTHER WAS OF THE OPINION IT WOULDN'T RAIN ON A BIG MUSIC NIGHT. PERIOD. HE COULD PART THE CLOUDS WITH GOOD FUN, AND GREAT MUSIC.
WELL SIR, THEY WERE BOTH GAMBLING MEN TONIGHT, AND IT PAID BIG DIVIDENDS. THE RAIN THREATENED, AND THE SKY LOOKED A LITTLE OMINOUS AT TIMES, BUT BY SHOW TIME, EVERYONE FOCUSED THEIR ENERGY ON CHAIR DANCING AND HAVING A GRAND TIME. NO NEED TO WORRY ABOUT INCLEMENT WEATHER, WHEN YOU'RE HAVING SO MUCH FUN. THE MANY HUNDREDS WHO HUNKERED DOWN ON THAT GRASSY SHORELINE, UP ON BALD MAN'S FRINGE, AND DOWN ON THE BEACH, AND FOR THAT MATTER, ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE SNACK BAR, WEREN'T WORRIED ABOUT GETTING WET. THEY WERE THERE TO ENJOY THE AMBIENCE OF A FINE LITTLE URBAN PARK, AND TO CELEBRATE SUMMER IN MUSKOKA, WITH WELL KNOWN ENTERTAINERS, FREDDY VETTE AND THE FLAMES, WHO ONCE AGAIN, ENTERTAINED US TO THE FULL EXTENT OF THE LAW. ANY MORE WOULD HAVE BEEN SINFUL. MOST OF THE CROWD WAS GYRATING IN THEIR LAWN CHAIRS, OR ON THE BENCHES LINING THE TOP OF THE HILL, AND EVEN THE SWIMMERS, WERE DANCING OUT ON THE GULL LAKE DOCKS. AS IF THE ARTIST STAGED A PHOTO-SHOOT, IT WAS THE PERFECT SCENE, THE PERFECT OVERVIEW, OF WHAT SUMMER IN MUSKOKA IS ALL ABOUT. FABULOUS NIGHTS OF ENTERTAINMENT LIKE THIS. AND IT DIDN'T RAIN. FRED SCHULZ PULLED ANOTHER "DRY" ONE OUT OF THE BAG, AND A REALLY BIG CROWD EXTENDS ITS HEARTFELT THANKS…….TO HIS STALWART DETERMINATION, THAT "THE SHOW MUST GO ON!"
OUTDOOR VENUES! THEY'RE ALWAYS A RISK. BUT YOU KNOW, WHEN YOU'RE AS PERPETUALLY LUCKY AS FRED SCHULZ, WITH A HISTORY OF SUCCESSES ABOUT SIX FEET TALL, DURING HIS BARGE TENURE, IT'S HARD NOT TO THINK OF THE MAN AS A "FOUR-LEAF-CLOVER-CARRYING," "HORSESHOE-SITTING-ON," IRISHMAN, WITH A WEE UNICORN STUFFED INTO HIS SHIRT POCKET, TO GO WITH THE RABBIT'S FOOT HANGING OFF HIS BELT. THANKS TO FREDDY VETTE AND THE FLAMES, TONIGHT'S PERFORMANCE WAS ANOTHER OF THOSE MAGIC MOMENTS IN LOCAL ENTERTAINMENT HISTORY….THAT MADE REALLY NICE MEMORIES FOR ALL OF US. THANKS FOR GIVING IT YOUR ALL FRED AND FREDDY.
"To learn something about crafts and craftsmen is to learn about the history of the race. Each craft is the rich repository of many years of practical experimentation and knowledge by men and women whose very lives were shaped and enhanced by the work of their hands. More than wars, more even than literature or the chronicles of kings and great men, the crafts reflect our universal past. They also demonstrate with beauty and precision, how generations of creativity went into developing and refining hundreds of regional variations that are only now blending, losing their identities." John Seymour, "The Forgotten Arts & Crafts."
RICHARD KARON BIOGRAPHY -
THE BIOGRAPHER'S RELATIONSHIP WITH ART AND ARTISTS-
"We frequently use the term creative artist, and quite rightly so. But to be truly aware of art as one of the finest and most beautiful of human activities is not as simple as it sometimes seems. There would appear to be no grounds for doubting that when you look at a painting, statue or drawing, read a poem or listen to a violin sonata, you are dealing not with natural phenomena but with the creations of the human mind, heart and hands. But a work of art is objectivised, removed from its creator and appears to us, the public, in its own independent characteristic form, which is revealed especially patently, fully and completely in the fine arts. This form is based on objects and phenomena in life, although there can be no question of identity," wrote art historian, Vladislav Zimenko, in his 1976 book, "The Humanism of Art. "Nevertheless, when we perceive a painting, sculpture or engraving we automatically and quite reasonably relate the forms we see to the forms of real-life objects, often even to the extent of forgetting that they are not identical. The joy of recognition of familiar objects tends to take precedence over the joy derived from the aesthetic reproductions and representation." He also wrote that, "Art creates a special world organized by the will and wisdom of the artist, in which we are all the time aware of refections of his artistic nature even, where he had been at great pains to hide them."
I have known many artists. I have studied them at work, and marveled at their intuition and imagination, to create works that are alluring and provocative, inspiring and exciting….. but I am wary of the alchemy at their beck and call. I have read hundreds of books on fine arts, some dating back hundreds of years. Yet, I am no closer to understanding the arts, but suffice that I am able to appreciate them, by my own unreserved innocence.
Every year, I am tempted by some offer, to work on a biography. Not my own. That would be pretty boring, compared to some members of our citizenry, past and present, who have had remarkable lives. It's true. All the biographies I have written, to date, are about subjects who are deceased. There was one exception. When I wrote a tribute biography for National Hockey League goaltender, Roger Crozier, working as a corporate executive, for an American bank. When I was later hired as a contributor to a larger book project, by his bank in Delaware, Roger was very sick, and before the text was completed, he had passed away. For whatever reason, the biography was shelved. "Daredevil Goalie," was the first book written on Roger, after he won the Conn Smythe Trophy, in the 1960's, and my tribute biography was the last cursory hockey biography. This was produced in the mid 1990's. Roger was so pleased with it, that he invited me to visit him in Delaware, and tour MBNA headquarters. He had a great life beyond the accomplishments of professional hockey.
In 2011, I re-published the biography of Ada Florence Kinton, a pioneer artist, missionary, of Huntsville, both online and in a neat little publication known as "Curious; The Tourist Guide," that I've been writing for during the past decade. The Kinton story is one I've repeated three times now, for regional publications, and on the third (revised) release, I finally got word from a family member. Which was fantastic, and the fact the family appreciated the story was even better.
In the case of Richard Karon, the fact I got involved in the story, dates back to my early days as a hobby art collector. As I've written about previously, I developed a fascination for art at a young age. As a kid, I was sick a lot. I can remember laying on the couch in our livingroom, on so many of those days, staring at the ceiling. When not looking there, I was studying the only two paintings my mother and father owned. One was a William Kranley, who had once been connected to the Ontario College of Art, and another painting by T.Looksooner. My mother had worked as a secretary for Mr. Kranley, and as a gift, he gave her a wonderful autumn landscape, probably painted in the late 1940's. Merle purchased the Looksooner painting, of ocean waves crashing against the shore, in the early 1960's, when the painter brought some panels to a neighbor's apartment, while we were living in Burlington. I wasn't surrounded by art, as a kid, but I was certainly affected by the little we had……other than cheap prints to fill wall space.
Part of my fascination, was that these two modest paintings, could cheer me up, when I was feeling poorly. The autumn scene, while melancholy in appearance, made me feel calm and comfortable, and the ocean scene evoked a sense of "sailing away" and coolness, if I had a fever. I held great respect for artists, who could provide such tender care and gentle adventure for a sick kid. It made me want to learn how to paint. I tried. Around Birch Hollow today, you can find all kinds of attempts by the writer, to be a painter. Suffice to say, I am a painter. A house painter. My most recent accomplishment in painting, was a re-decorated bathroom. So I have spent most of a life-time collecting, and selling interesting art, satisfying myself as an admirer of the paintings, I could never excel at myself.
I remember an occasion, when I arrived back at the antique shop, I operated with my parents, in Bracebridge, and Merle was ecstatic about a deal she had wangled with a customer. Thinking we had made thousands of dollars, she instead produced a tiny but well executed pencil sketch of the Empire State Building, in New York. Merle got it by trading a pair of old glasses, to a client in desperate need. The gentleman was an American artist who had been staying in Muskoka, who had, by some misadventure, damaged his own vintage-style spectacles. It was on a day he couldn't find anyone to make repairs, and he was driving home that afternoon. He had them taped together in a rather awkward fashion. He decided to drop in to our newly opened shop, circa 1977, before leaving town, and to his delight, he found the old pair of wire glasses I'd purchased the week before at an auction. It seems the parts could be switched, and he could unwrap the tape from his glasses. He confessed to being quite out of money, which we used to hear a lot, but he had an original pencil sketch he had in his portfolio, that he had drawn recently. Merle liked it, and thought we could double our money, at least, from what the old spectacles were priced at…..and she was right. She had made a very astute trade, and many years later the small original sketch sold for about $150.00, I believe. The glasses had been on sale for ten bucks.
There was another case, when a local artist came into the store with ten original oil paintings, on carved pieces of half inch plywood. They were nicely sculpted around the edges, unframed, with wire hangers, but a lot of folks objected to the plywood. The art work was brilliant. Wonderful nature studies that were all very well executed, and would have looked magnificent on masonite or canvas……just not on plywood. We took them on consignment, and Merle, feeling a little sorry for the talented artist, down on his luck, bought the little paintings……and then gave them to me for my apartment, which admittedly had a few bare walls.
I can remember the spring I graduated university in Toronto, getting a little financial windfall, and taking a portion of the money and investing it in art. At the time I didn't know too much about art as an investment, so I made a crappy decision. I sold one of the three but I gave the other originals to my parents for the bare walls in their new apartment, in the years after we closed our shop. After my parents died, several years ago, I inherited those two paintings, now sitting in my archives room, reminding me daily about the precarious art market. It's not that they aren't good paintings, just that they aren't good enough to earn any serious returns for my multi-decade investment. Merle and Ed thought they were great, and for me, that was all the icing I needed on the cake.
As I've also mentioned previously, I grew up in a town with three prominent artists, working on the main street of town, at roughly the same time. Bob Everett was the artist / pharmacist, on Manitoba Street, Bill Anderson was the painter / barber, and my old chum (who I just chatted with recently) Ross Smith, was the artist / gas jockey at his father's Uptown Garage. All three were accomplished landscape artists. Ross still paints regularly, and of this I'm delighted. I have one of his originals he did for me, of a rustic cabin on a quiet stretch of Muskoka River. Ross was my neighbor at York University's "Winter's College," and he always had a painting on the go, or stacks of his old work, which I used to beg, and haul home in my girlfriend Gail's Volkswagon. It can be said of me, I never left a panel behind. And my girlfriend always wanted to kick my…………." She always knew, that faced with a romantic decision, between her and the art panels, I was going to have a lot of art on my walls…..but a crappy romantic life.
This is, of course, is a round-about way of getting back to the subject of this blog-biography. As I have been a staunch supporter of the arts community, in Muskoka, and one of the "behind the scenes," negotiators, for the present Chapel Gallery, in Bracebridge (Muskoka Arts and Crafts operated site), I could very easily select another artist biography over a generous offer to write the life story of a hockey player, golfer, politician or magician. I've interviewed and promoted hundreds of local artists over the years, for news and feature publications, and I've never been disappointed by the experience or the outcomes. I've interviewed sculptors like Richard Green, one of the most colorful interviews I've ever had, (what a character) wood artisans like Don Thur, pottery artists, such as Jon Partridge, bird carvers……, Weldon Tracey was always a charming gentleman to interview; artists like Doug Dunford. I always wanted to own the original Dunford painting of the tractor known as "Minnesota Moline," but alas, I was a poor reporter, without a budget for nice art work. I have met and written about so many talented artists in this inspiring region of Ontario, which has always been as enjoyable for me, as I hope it was, a successful promotion, for the subject artist. I always enjoyed seeing their studios, and watching them work at their easels or potter's wheel. I watched, within only a few feet, as glass artist Jamie Sherman worked his magic at the furnace, in his former Bracebridge studio. I have spent a lot of time in my news career, in awe, writing about the creative work of others.
It's the reason I had been considering work on a biography, of former Muskoka artist, Richard Karon. When I finally met the well known artist, at his Lake of Bays studio, back in the mid 1980's, he was, just then, closing his art business. Not only was he closing up his studio / gallery, and selling a large quantity of his remaining artwork, little did I appreciate, he was also giving-up painting as a profession. I was astonished, during the auction, held the same day as I finally met the artist, (who I had heard and read so much about), when the auctioneer's helpers began wading into a storage building, and dragging out rolls of paintings, some actually stuck together. They were selling these rolled up canvases together, and I remember getting three in one roll. The job was to separate them from each other. I knew when I saw this happening, it was not a typical close-out of an art studio, by the artist himself. Very few, if any professional artists, would allow their inferior work to be sold off. This work is usually destroyed, no matter how much value it might possess down the road. While it's true that estates for artists, often disregard last will directives on the disposal of sketches, and rejected studio work, the reason for it, is actually quite simple. The lesser works on the market, will affect the valuation of the better pieces held by investors. The mistake of the artists, usually, is that they often leave the task of getting-rid of unwanted panels, until it is too late. Sensing there is money to be made from even damaged or incomplete art panels, executors tend to overlook what was a sincere request by the artist before death. "Get rid of them." Which refers to the inferior work they don't wish to be made public. In the strange case of Mr. Karon, who was going through the early stages of a marital separation, he gave permission to sell this work he had previously rejected. This for an artist of his calibre, was like a magician giving up the secrets of his tricks. His failings and inconsistencies, in his own mind, as the artist, were being dumped onto the market. But there was something he hadn't really thought about, in his resignation to cease work as an artist.
As I've written about, previously in this biography, something fascinating happened during the auction, that few patrons would have recognized as a "theme for the day." The artist was too emotionally distant and disgruntled to have appreciated what was happening in the audience. Most of the people, buying his art on that day, were folks who admired his work. They weren't bargain hunters or flea market vendors, looking to make a fast buck, by flipping these art pieces by the end of the week. In the crowd were friends, neighbors, cottagers, and art patrons who knew his talents as a painter. I may have been the only antique dealer that day, particularly interested in his art work…..but frankly, I was there as both a reporter and historian, because this was an important memory to preserve. What I saw that day, was his art work being "rescued," by people who had admiration for the painter. They weren't buying the cast-off originals for great future profit, but instead, because the art meant something to them. They knew the places he painted, and the times of day he preferred to capture his landscapes…..when the mist and light, and colors were most profoundly enchanting. It was as if he was flinging all the work he had ever invested, into the sky, and letting it fall upon the ground, as a poetic gesture of a failed career. In reality, quite the opposite held true. But what he hadn't anticipated, was the crowd of supporters, admirers, who wanted to own Richard Karon originals, no matter if they were seconds, or incomplete. As he stayed, for most of the auction, behind the counter in his gallery, selling the leftover panels still mounted on the walls, he missed seeing the show of respect for his creations. It was, for this observer, a tragic event, because it meant the end of a long and successful career. Had he known his art was being snapped up by those who respected his work, possibly it would have been a spark of optimism……that while having to sell his home / studio, it didn't mean he hadn't been a competent painter, creating desirable paintings. He couldn't separate a failed marriage from the well being of his profession, and all he could think about, following the closure of the Baysville studio, was positioning himself close to his young son, Richard Sahoff Karon, then only four years old. His long-time friend Eva Scheel, owner of the Log Cabin Gift Shop, told me during an interview, many years ago, that the painter was devastated by the break-up, and the thought of being separated from his young son, compelled him to move. In his mind, he had no choice but to re-locate, and his art became inconsequential. There is no disguising or muting the sense of tragic circumstance, he must have felt, at this time of his life. I'm afraid that by this point, no supportive editorial or heartfelt compliment, about acceptance of his work, would have changed his future. His satisfaction then, was that he was able to remain close to his son, for several more years, up to the last moments of life. His son was only seven when his father passed away.
I have in my possession, a number of curious art pieces, I obtained from a local second hand shop, several years ago. I was immediately attracted to them, and while vibrant, well executed abstract portraits, there was something more compelling about the panels, commanding me to bring them home. I have about twelve of this talented artist's signed originals, and some of the books he had in his art library. They had been signed by him. I remember, one morning, reading the weekly paper, and coming across an obituary for this same artist. When I happened to mention this to the manager of the store, later that same week, he was shocked to hear the news. The artist had only recently dropped the small collection of art work off at the store, to help the charity, stating then that he hoped the work could raise a few needed dollars for the organization. It was not a natural death, from what I have ascertained since. Distraught? Feeling it had been a failed career in the arts? Depression amongst artists is well documented, especially noted in the biographies of the world's best known creators. Karon was buoyed by a love for his family, his son, and knowing he was in the early stages of cancer himself, he wanted to spend as much time, as possible, with his son and namesake. Art became irrelevant, even when his wife, Irma, asked him, on numerous occasions, if he could paint a portrait of their son. Whether he outrightly refused, or just never followed-through, we don't know. But this may be the clear evidence, he had given up on art totally by this point…..which was post 1985, but not on life. In fact, strange as this may seem, he opened a small business to frame the work of other artists.
It was because of the Karon auction, and the sadness of that day, and the circumstances that I had always been suspicious of, that did eventually, lead me to undertake his biography……which I feel, as I write this, was destiny in all its glory. The ends of the circle would meet. This is exactly what I told Richard Sahoff Karon, on the day I met with him, in January of this year, at my boys' music shop here in Gravenhurst. He was with his young daughter Aurora, and as I'm a pretty spiritual guy, it didn't take a medium to tell me, something positive was going to happen. The artist and the writer were going to come together once again, to complete the circle, for his son and granddaughter, and for subsequent generations of the Karon family. What was important to his son, had become imminently so for me, and work began immediately following our meeting. One might assume then, by the biography so far, that this is a markedly sad story. I find, myself, that the opposite holds true. It is an uplifting story, by the reality, the truth has prevailed, and what may have been perceived as irreparable, has in instead, been presented as opportunity for healing.
Join me tomorrow for the conclusion of the Richard Karon biography.
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