Saturday, May 4, 2019

Thriving After A Setback: Artists Frank Holmes & Jill Mackie, Revisited

In April 2018 I drove up to Narrowsburg, New York, to visit two exceptional painters, Frank Holmes and Jill Mackie. During our visit I was struck by their residence and the manner in which they occupied it. It's a two-story house with a fair amount of history. When you enter the front door you discover that the main floor  is divided by a massively wide hallway.

To the right is the studio of Frank Baker Holmes; to the left that of Jill Mackie. Each workspace is well-lit by sunlight streaming through windows aplenty, with each studio space reflecting the personality of its inhabitant.

In my most recent visit to see Frank and Jill in  Narrowsburg two weeks ago I gained a deep appreciation for their resilience and the manner in which they bounced back into their life voyages after a near-devastating electrical fire that started within the walls of an upstairs bathroom. For a month (or months) they were displaced as the renovation was undertaken. They were now getting on with their lives and their work, the disruption now a distant blip in the rearview mirror. It was as if the near disaster never happened.

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While reflecting on the visit I was left with the impression that the walls of an artist's studio are a form of autobiography. The studio walls speak volumes about an artist's interests, and perhaps his or her psyche as well. Though I've observed this to some degree in past visits to artist's studios, it especially hit me on this occasion.

If you were ever to visit you'd find the house is nestled amongst large, old growth deciduous trees alongside a river that runs through Narrowsburg. To reach this place requires driving some distance through the Eastern Alleghenies, on beautiful stretches of road that weave through the Poconos if coming from the South. It's remote. It's idyllic. And for me it's always an uplift.

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When you visit with kindred spirits or old friends, there's never enough time it seems. I met Frank when he was a painting instructor at Ohio University in 1972-3. This was the year before he won the Prix de Rome. His presence on campus caused a stir amongst art school students like myself. He was painting realistically at a time when Pop Art and all forms of abstract and New York School expressionism were in vogue. He was going against the grain.



That isn't what made his explorations of three-point perspective so interesting. It's that he did it so well, in such tedious, meticulous detail.

When I'd last been to their studio home I saw the new direction Frank was moving toward. He showed me a couple colored plinths he'd painted. (A plinth is a heavy slab used to support a statue or vase, or Corinthian pillar.)  Like his earlier work he continues to wrestle with perspective, space and color. Unlike that early work, there is much more simplicity. The elements have been sheared into their essential forms.

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Sketches.
We broke for a light lunch upstairs, accompanied by light jazz piano compositions, Alan Broadbent, filtering in from the living room. Somewhere along the way I learned the unusual story of how Frank and Jill's lives became intertwined.

Frank first saw Jill at the New York gallery that was representing him. She left before he could learn her name. When he tracked her down he discovered that they were both from Detroit originally and that, in fact, the same doctor had delivered them when they were born. What's more, they each had the same pediatrician. How uncanny is that? There were other points at which paths crossed as well.

Jill has made contributions to Frank's work, stating that Jill was an excellent critic. "I'll ask for her opinion on decisions."

One of Frank's paintings features a rug, but it's not a painting of a rug. It is drawn from his mind and represents what a rug might look like. "It's not a copy." Yet it appears utterly authentic.

I asked about the undecorated walls and he stated that "I want them to be empty. I wanted it to be easy, but it never is." It always requires "torturous changes" to make them good.

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Random Snaps from Frank Holmes' Studio Walls



Portrait Artist Jill Mackie
Here are two striking Jill Mackie paintings. Jill's career got a big boost when one of her pieces was included in a show at the National Portrait Gallery in Washington, D.C. three decades ago. Today she continues to do commission portraits as well as show her work. You can catch a feel for Jill's studio here.

Reflecting a mindful wistfulness.
Over the course of our meal the subject of films inserted itself into the conversation. Films they recommended included: Little Dieter Needs to Fly, Searching for Sugarman and House of Plantagenet, We also discussed Lost Horizon and The Asteroid while jazz pianist Alan Broadbent, played in the background (on CD).

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It was nice to see Frank and Jill thriving after their setback, grateful that they were not out of town at the time of the fire.

Related Links
"Paintings, Now & Before: Figures, Flowers, Landscapes" and an Introduction to Jill Mackie
Veteran Painter Frank Holmes Discusses His Prix de Rome and Life as an Artist
Almost Wordless Wednesday: Frank Holmes Studio Tour

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