August 27, 2005
Chuck Close and My Dad
Today, I plan to visit the Chuck Close exhibit at the Walker Art Center. I intended to go to the opening show back in July but never quite made it, which is fine because I don't care for large crowds of see and be seen folks anyway. I figure today is as good a day as any b/c it's also the first weekend of the MN State Fair which will keep away the crowds (hopefully).
I've seen Close's work at the Walker and elsewhere and am a great admirer of him and his work. I think in part because whenever I view his work, I momentarily think of my dad and his passion for art.
You see, for those who don't know, Chuck Close became a quadriplegic after a spinal artery collapse in 1988. However, he continued to find a way to paint, first using his teeth to hold a brush and now using a strap to hold the brush in his hand which has limited mobility. His work continues to astound the arts community.
My dad is not a quadriplegic but he did lose his left arm in a train accident when he was about 13 years old and living in what is now North Korea. As an amputee in war ravaged Korea, he didn't have much hope for success. Fortunately, he was a gifted artist and a man with persistence and ambition. Through various forces and graces, he was able to nurture his artistic talent as a teenager and young man. Eventually, it was his artistic talents that enabled him to get a work visa to move to America and work in the advertising field. Throughout his adult life, he has continued to paint, draw, invent, and build.
I grew up around art supplies: acrylic paints, colored pencils, drafting tables, charcoals, inks, oils, and lots of paper. My dad taught me how to create dimensions, shading, portraits, and perspective, while other dads may have taught their sons how to throw a baseball or fix a car. I also grew up watching my dad pass his free time expressing himself through his art. It was, I think, his way of relieving stress, living his dreams, and communicating with the world, including his children. My brothers both followed briefly in his footsteps, working in the advertising world, before following their own dreams/ambitions. I too dabbled in art, taking some courses in college but I never had it within me to pursue it any further. Instead, over time, I became more an art lover and supporter.
While art gave my dad many opportunities in life, I also know that it was not an easy life as an immigrant in this country. I saw how much he and my mom struggled to make ends meet. Their hard work and dedication to the family opened far more doors for us children. Of course, when my middle brother briefly thought of going to arts college, my dad was more than supportive and likely very proud behind his stoic facade. But like most parents, they wanted more for us.
As for my dad, he continued to paint intermittently throughout his adult life. After retiring from business, my mom had planned to have a gallery exhibit for him when he turned 70, surely fullfilling a childhood dream. Unfortunately, my mom passed away unexpectedly from cancer just a few months before the exhibit. My dad, who just months earlier was painting furiously in preparation for the exhibit, put down the paint brush.
Over the past 2 years, a lot has changed in our lives. He recently went back to South Korea for a vacation and had a chance to take a tour to a mountain resort in North Korea. It was literally the closest he had been to his homeland in over 50 years.
Then, in a recent phone conversation with him, I learned that he had started to paint again! I was so happy deep inside to learn that he had found the energy and hope and creative spirit to pick up the brush again. Actually, he told me that he was now painting with a knife, pasting oil and acrylic onto large canvases and pieces of wood, scenes of North Korea, inspired from his recent trip.
I know my mom is happy for my dad that he has found a new life, nearly 3 years after her death. It was art that saved my dad when he was a boy having just lost his arm and potentially his livelihood. And again, it was art that brought back my dad's spirit after my mom's passing.
Posted by richlee at August 27, 2005 11:55 AM