new york

J. Williamson

Plug

I’ve always been a huge fan of the “naive” French painter, Henri Rousseau. His large canvas, “The Sleeping Gypsy” (1897), has been one of my favorite paintings since I first saw it at MoMA in high school. I love the story of Rousseau, that he was self-taught, followed his own painting method, and painted subjects (jungles, wild animals) entirely from his imagination. I’m a romantic, so the idea of that “purity,” that lack of concern with craft, excites me; it’s so different from my own artistic background and practice.

Photobucket - Video and Image HostingAnyway, the other day I “discovered” my own Henri Rousseau. His name is J. Williamson, and I found him last Friday afternoon selling his work on the corner of 23rd Street and 8th Avenue in Manhattan.

As I came up to Williamson’s sidewalk table, it was covered in tiny oil-painted canvases, 50 or more in total. Each painting was mashed in next to the other. The subjects ranged the gamut, but one that caught my eye right away was a rendition of that infamous Ivan Brunetti picture of Ivan stabbing himself in his eye. I soon saw other themes: classic superheroes like Superman, Batman & Robin, and Captain America; awkward sex scenes; Mr. Met (!); and a number of George Bushes. (One of them showed Bush naked… as a woman. Disturbing.) I was instantly charmed by the artist’s lively, childlike touch — and the fact that he had clearly never gone to art school. I also loved the fact that the paintings were so small, most of them less than 4″ wide. Best thing of all was how affordable his pieces were, mostly in the $10-$20 range.

Pointing out the Brunetti piece, I mentioned I was a cartoonist too and struck up a conversation with Williamson. He is a big guy, missing a tooth or two, and has a strong New York accent. He’s soft-spoken, with an unkempt, street-person aspect (all feeding into the “naive” artist image). He said he’d been selling on that corner for two-three years (‘tho i’ve been there many times and had never seen him). I asked him about his process and he said he could dash off an incredible 3-4 paintings an hour. I told him about the upcoming MoCCA festival, and recommended he get a table, or at least set up outside the Puck Building, assuring him that he’d sell his whole inventory in a couple of hours. But he seemed nervous — whether from the prospect of leaving his familiar spot, or just not understanding me regarding MoCCA, I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t push him on it.

Photobucket - Video and Image HostingI ended up spending way more money than I planned on three pieces, two of which I show here. I got Sari the painting of the girl and the horse sharing a milkshake. What can be said about it that does it justice? It’s just too brilliant! The Warhol piece also called out to me, painted as it is on what seems to be a mini-whiskey bottle. (I know — it should’ve been on a tomato can! As Williamson told me, he was just beginning to experiment with painting on surfaces like bottles and metal containers.) The third piece — a close-up of a Hulk-like monster’s eyes — I got as a little gift for my buddy man_size.

I hope I’m not coming across as too glib about Williamson and his art: I really do love it. I’ve never been a fan of kitsch or “bad” art, and especially not stuff I would hang on my own walls. I really admire Williamson’s talent and offbeat genius — and his pseudo-autistic persona definitely adds to his allure. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he gets profiled in New York magazine, scores a Chelsea gallery, and starts selling in the six figures.

I could have bought a lot more of Williamson’s art that day, but I didn’t want to overdo it and blow all my cash. My only regret is not buying the Mr. Met painting, but maybe it’ll still be there tomorrow, when I should be back in that neighborhood. It would be so much cooler, though, wouldn’t it, if he disappears forever, leaving nothing but a few random samples of his art behind…

just a typical week in NYC?

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I’ve lived in a lot of places, and one thing I treasure about New York is its constant vitality. There’s always something going on, and the streets reflect that. Other cities just don’t have that same hustle to the bustle.

But sometimes things get carried away. For instance, this is what I did this past week:

  • Monday – attended The Civilians’ “Patriot Acts” benefit concert, where Sari & I enjoyed the musical stylings of Amy Helm, Girlyman, DJ Spooky, Mary Testa, and Jackie Hoffman
  • Tuesday – went to my mom‘s talk at The New York City Studio School, where I walked in halfway through the lecture and was pressed into service (along with my laptop) in enabling her to show a presentation of her work; and then later joined in a homemade dinner at the school on her behalf
  • Wednesday – helped my pal Stinky celebrate his 39th birthday with pizza at Lombardi’s and gelato at Bruno Bakery
  • Thursday – played softball from 6 – 8 as an emergency fill-in for the Plug Uglies down at Commodore Berry field, and then scooted up to Park Slope for my normal Thursday night basketball game from 8 – 10. That’s 4 hours of sports and equipment-lugging!
  • Friday – headed upstate with Sari & her parents for Mother’s Day weekend at 10:30 p.m. and didn’t arrive until 3:30 a.m. due to a shopping stop and weird traffic on the FDR

Week’s like that just wear me out. I mean, I’m not even mentioning (well, I guess I am) that I was working all week on three separate freelance jobs, including closing out issues of two magazines I’m the “art director” for. And my buddy Jake just left Sunday night after staying with us for five days…

Is this normal city life? Taken individually, each of those events was fun, memorable, interesting. But jammed together like that… phew.

Am I just getting old? man_size: how do you do it? you seem to have UNLIMITED reservoirs of energy for socializing, meeting new people, existing in the public sphere. ‘Cause this doesn’t seem like “life” to me, but just a series of public appearances. And weeks like this are all too common nowadays.

When does one pause to reflect, to unwind, to reclaim the creative spaces, to remember who you are and what you believe in?

A Day With the Red Cross

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Today Sari and I volunteered at the Red Cross of Greater New York. I had phoned them about volunteering and they called me last night to see if I could work this weekend. They needed people to answer phones at their local call center. I offered to come in today and Sari volunteered her services as well. So we set our alarms for 7 a.m. and staggered into the Amsterdam Avenue office bright and early.

Well, seems our names hadn’t been posted and the call center was full, but there turned out to be plenty to do nonetheless. People from New Orleans and Mississippi were starting to arrive: over 250 had come in on Friday and probably another 150 or so came through while we were there today. Sari was put to work processing the paperwork involved with issuing debit cards to the evacuees: $360 for an individual, $650 for a family of two, and so on up to $1500 or so. This money was in addition to the $2000 the government is promising folks via FEMA.

I was put to work in the intake room, where evacuees sat and waited to meet with a social worker and get started on their paperwork (and hopefully some short-term food and shelter). They were given meals and provided with four computers with Internet access. I set up the computers with a list of links to various resources: food, housing, employment info; and I helped people with their online FEMA applications. Many people had only the merest shred of a connection to New York; one couple I helped said the only free bus they could catch from the shelter in Texas they’d been in three days ago was headed here.

FEMA’s online application is very extensive and in some parts rather tricky. Plus, true to form, the FEMA website was completely overwhelmed and their server kept going down. The whole time I was there, I was only able to successfully process ONE application; two others pooped out in the middle of the process and one never got started because the server wouldn’t respond. It was impossible to get through to FEMA on the phone: all you got was a long-winded message. Rumor was that it may be possible to reach a real person between 2 a.m. and 6 a.m. Great!

It was heartbreaking seeing these bedraggled people, most of them still in shock after their ordeal, as they came to the Red Cross for help. Everybody had an unbelievable story of survival to tell, and you had to wonder about these folks and how they’d get by in our big, crazy circus of a city. Besides helping folks with their applications, I was able to assist them with other Internet-related paperwork, such as getting phone and utility bills for proof-of-address and the like. I was incredibly impressed with how patient and good-natured everybody was, and how much dignity they retained despite their circumstances. Most of them have been wearing the same clothes for a week to ten days. Imagine that!

Working there today was a powerful experience. It really showed me what an incredible job organizations like the Red Cross do for victims on the scene. And it made me think very seriously about volunteering for an extended stretch down in the affected region. I got the number of the local volunteer training coordinator and I think I will call her Monday to see about a three-week assignment. I was told it is “hardship duty” right now, but I may be ready for some of that. Anything that can help.

Back in New York; recent publications

Publicity, Travel

Well, we’re New Yorkers again! Sari & I moved into our new Prospect Heights apartment in early November. I’m continuing to work for MysteryNet, now known as MysteryClub. Check out my illus for the “See-n-Solve” picture mystery. Recent published work includes a comic strip collaboration with poet Eileen Myles in the most recent issue of Provincetown Arts, and a 4-panel strip on “Foundation Frustration” in the November issue of City Limits, New York’s urban affairs news magazine.