An obsession with old men is a characteristic that my very best students have often shared.

I suppose it is a longing for the wisdom projected by these young artists onto those old faces? They certainly respect the experience etched into the crevice of the expressions they draw.  The images they construct evoke the ballads of Tom Waits singing about a “shore leave wrist watches underneath (his) sleeve in a Hong Kong drizzle on Cuban heels (as he) rolls down the gutter to the blood bank … and shoots billiards with a midget till the rain stop(s)…” To be far-away from home, living at the edge, is maybe a dream these boys share and seek to capture in the faces of old men.

This is a sentiment I obviously empathize with.  From my earliest days I have gravitated to those old faces.   My father tells a story of Fritz who had a German bakery on the edge of Salt Lake City. When an article appeared in the Tribune heralding his work with a big picture of the old baker, I immediately tore out the photo and drew it.  My father saw the drawing and for the first time sensed art was a past time I might not grow out of.  He took the drawing to Fritz and leveraged it to get a special price on his bread and pastries.

I could be found in my undergraduate years in the alleys of East Vancouver.  As a 20 year-old student I continued to be mesmerized by those old weathered faces.  My work wanted audiences to confront events they chose to hide from, and the street was a visceral record of what also happened in-doors.

So when I became a teacher I took my students into the east side to take pictures of the street. In the spirit of showing work I have been doing while teaching the pictures I took from these trips is one creative extension of being an educator.

So we have walked down Hastings st, China town, and on toward Pigeon Park and the kids followed wide eyed, terrified, fascinated, with stories of their own to tell, following the routes I had taken when a student finding inspiration from the worn faces of those alleys.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finally, however, as local singer/poet/artist C.R. Avery says when looking nostalgically towards old men as a voice for one’s own yearnings you must eventually, as an artist, learn to “stand in your own shadow…”

Photo 11×14″  Who you meet on a walk”

Photo11x14″ “Spy Game”

Photo 11×14″ “Vancouver face (with Distortion)”

Dry-pont etching 18×24″ “Three faces in Alleyway”

Photo 11×14″ “Vancouver face ” “

Photo 11×14″ “hands #2”

Photo 11×14″ “Vancouver Face”

Photo 11×14″ “Balmoral”

Photo 11×14″ “JoHo”

Photo 8×10″ “Tammy”

Photo 8×10″ “Chase”

Drypoint etching 4×6″ “Portrait of old man”