About the Artist

To describe in oil paint how still-life objects reflect, absorb and block light, one must develop one’s eye- and take one’s time. An intimate relationship develops between the painter and the painted during the process. Mine is not an objectivistic objectivity, so my objects don’t object. When I capture their character and autonomy, they describe me. They tell of the hand that picked and arranged them, and the man who sat with them for hours. The more objective and realistic they look, the more they explain my subjective impression. Open narratives are illuminated.

Look for the content. Discover spiritual essences hiding within representations of material things. How can paintings mimicking physical appearances unveil such qualities? The mind automatically perceives pictures as symbols and all objects have symbolic associations. Reflections upon the images of our earthly belongings stir universal feelings of fate, attachment and longing.

Transmitting such transcendence is my ultimate goal, and selections are made to address such things, but painting begins by simply observing how light describes appearances. My job is to capture what light reveals in paint, but painting reveals something more than reflections. It gives the “apples” of my eyes a chance to speak!

I began drawing when I was ten years old, copying illustrations that I found in books, impressing teachers and parents with my "native" talent. The drawing of a horse (left) is an example.

For decades, I remained a self-taught, untrained ameteur. As a young man I used my drawing skills to illustrate surrealist landscapes of the imagination. Most of the artworks that I produced during the seventies and eighties were in this style. The pastel painting above is typical of the era. No models were used - it was drawn completely from my imagination.

After my father died in 1976, I believed that I couldn't afford returning to college to study art, so I worked in retail stores to earn a living. I felt trapped and my art was placed on the back burner.

Working in stores choked my inspiration, reducing art to an off-hours hobby. This suffocating "fish out of water" experience gave me strong incentive to return to my career. In 1994, I began devising a plan to become a working professional artist. I bought a camera and copied my own photos, reinventing myself as a "photorealist", and returned to college for an art degree. The painting above of a wind-damaged road sign is an example of this phase.

By the time I got my BFA in 2002, I discovered that the camera wasn't teaching me how to paint better. I realized that painting from direct observation, not photos - or fantasy - produced the best pictures. Thanks to one of my teachers at Southampton College, Robert Armetta, I was introduced to the current revival of academic "classical" realism. During and after attending college, I sought training in traditional painting at his atelier, the Long Island Academy of Fine Art. The grisaille painting of the bust of Lincoln was painted there.
My artistic search for a means of expression took me through three phases of realism: surrealism, photorealism, and classical realism. In the last, I have found the best way to express what I mean. Now my painting has matured.

Along the way, I discovered that I love teaching art also. In the near future, I will seek an MFA degree so that I may teach art to college students, sharing what I have learned with those as serious about painting as I have become.
Painting is my occupation now (supplimented with occasional part time work outside the field) and I have become moderately successful. Success, however, is not measured by how much my paintings sell for. For me, success is being able to paint.