|Visual Arts - Painter | Unknown|
|Born in Vermont 1949, self-taught artist 1970 to present. Education: Marsh-Plain igh, 9th grade, 1966, GED 1976, UMass Boston, B.S. 1981, Dartmouth Medical School, M.D.1985, North Shore University Hospital-Cornell 1985-1990(General Surgery Residency), Queens Hospital Center, Jamaica, N.Y. 1990-1992(Surgical Critical Care). Work Experience: General Surgery Practice 1990- 2014. Artist 1970-present. Exhibitions: Minor group exhibitions in SOHO, West Village, solo exhibition in Boston, private viewings and sales by appointment (with my wife's permission and only if I promise to create a replacement version).|
|I grew up on small farm in Vermont, the year we came to this country from Europe. Early years were idyllic, playing in the woods and brook with my four siblings and helping my father get the hay in for the cows and horse and getting enough firewood for the winter. The house was heated by a wood-burning furnace until 1990. Poverty occasionally lingered in the background but thanks to my dad's early years, we always had a huge garden and plenty of delicious food. My father was born in 1900 on a little farm in Poland. At age 13 he was taken to a work-camp in Germany where he trained horses and cooked big stews for the camp through most of WW1. He then made his way to Paris, studied in the flourishing art community of Montmartre, and became an excellent classical sculptor. We had some plaster casts of his work but they were lost when the farm in Vermont burned down in 1990. Only five photographs of his sculptures somehow survived-which I cherish. My father was a big influence in my love for art and the farm life is reflected in a lot of my paintings. In this country, my father worked in the granite sheds in Barre, VT. My mother worked nights in the woolen mill in North Montpelier. They were often laid off so we made money by selling lumber. I loved skidding out logs out with our big, gentle horse Ted. Also my dad made the work fun, never scolding and giving us a lot of responsibility.
I was a typical ambitious teenager, becoming increasingly frustrated and angry. There were few positive influences in that depressed, very conservative community. We never fit in, the long-haired liberal foreigners. Ill never ever forget when JFK was assassinated. I was in the basement science class and everyone stood up and cheered. After some turbulent years I quit high-school and left for New York City. I wanted to be a successful artist and on my own. Influenced by my father and also a very artistic mother, I began painting earnestly around 1968-1970. I soaked up the art in the museums in NYC. I loved impressionism and figurative expressionism, especially. I supported myself working in factories, as a laborer, and renovation. I found work in Boston, painting between jobs and on weekends. Planning on going to art school, I got my GED in Boston somewhere between 1975 and 1976. But the idea of getting an education opened a world of potential opportunities and careers. The power of science and medicine appealed to me. So I detoured and got a Bachelor of Science degree at U-Mass Boston, M.D. degree at Dartmouth Medical School in 1985, and completed a Surgical Residency 1985-1990. I had a successful, exciting career in Academic Surgery and private practice until retirement 2014, painted all the while and paint full-time now. I have done little to promote my career as an artist. Showing such a personal side of me was hard, I have only had some small gallery shows and private sales. The house is overflowing with paintings. The subject matter is usually unplanned and I don't generally try to analyze it other than to recognize it as coming from personal experiences. My focus while painting is color and form. The subject matter at some point reveals itself. I define my style of work as figurative expressionism. An artist in New York used to call me a "colorist," which may be a technically accurate category. The work has been called primitive. Very psychological, perhaps a bit too revealing. Facing that blank canvas is dreadful. But like surgery, the joy is in the complete absorption and attention required by the process.|