Joe Rice 1918 - 2011
Art Show, January 31, 2016
There was an art show at my house two weekends ago, my deceased father's first. My husband and I just returned the last of the borrowed paintings and ceramics. I won't lie. I was sorry to see them all go. For a few brief days the house was full of art, floor to ceiling. Walking the circuit from the foyer and through the downstairs rooms was an inspiring journey through one man's life work.
Fifty or so guests crowded our home. Old friend Yvonne Hunter took photographs. My daughter-in-law provided the beautiful food, a sister wine and drinks. My youngest daughter and her friend sold books while my husband and sisters greeted guests and the grandchildren emptied all the toy baskets that had been relocated to the upstairs landing.
A cousin whom my sisters and I hadn't seen since early childhood travelled from out of state to attend. That reunion lent an emotional weight to the day, family reunited by the bonds of a unique, shared history and also by Joe Rice's art and legacy--for the meeting might never have happened without it. With each passing year, these connections to the past become more precious. Now is the time to share stories and memories before they fade.
Art Show, January 31, 2016
There was an art show at my house two weekends ago, my deceased father's first. My husband and I just returned the last of the borrowed paintings and ceramics. I won't lie. I was sorry to see them all go. For a few brief days the house was full of art, floor to ceiling. Walking the circuit from the foyer and through the downstairs rooms was an inspiring journey through one man's life work.
Fifty or so guests crowded our home. Old friend Yvonne Hunter took photographs. My daughter-in-law provided the beautiful food, a sister wine and drinks. My youngest daughter and her friend sold books while my husband and sisters greeted guests and the grandchildren emptied all the toy baskets that had been relocated to the upstairs landing.
A cousin whom my sisters and I hadn't seen since early childhood travelled from out of state to attend. That reunion lent an emotional weight to the day, family reunited by the bonds of a unique, shared history and also by Joe Rice's art and legacy--for the meeting might never have happened without it. With each passing year, these connections to the past become more precious. Now is the time to share stories and memories before they fade.
I am grateful to all who helped and to the many old and new friends who shared in the day. More than one guest remarked that while the work spanned close to fifty years and was marked by a number of distinct phases, they sensed the continuity, the consistent artistic vision and sensibility linking it all to one man.
The day before the show, I stood in the front room with my daughter. Three large canvasses, all borrowed, filled the walls. "I feel like I'm in a museum," my daughter said. "They are all so unique. I've never seen anything like them." The paintings were Queen, Tam Valley and Shaft of Blue Light.
She was right. Regardless one's taste, and any judgement as to whether the art is "good" or how good, Joe Rice was a singular artist. Many of his images are like no others.
The day before the show, I stood in the front room with my daughter. Three large canvasses, all borrowed, filled the walls. "I feel like I'm in a museum," my daughter said. "They are all so unique. I've never seen anything like them." The paintings were Queen, Tam Valley and Shaft of Blue Light.
She was right. Regardless one's taste, and any judgement as to whether the art is "good" or how good, Joe Rice was a singular artist. Many of his images are like no others.
 Queen, Joe Rice  Shaft of Blue Light, Joe Rice |  Tam Valley, Joe Rice  Purple Knight, Joe Rice |
My home was a gallery for one special day. A day I won't forget. In the previous post I expressed concern that my father might have been displeased by the exhibit as he'd always avoided attracting any attention to himself or his work. My mind is now at ease on that point. The day was pure celebration and homage. And if my father's spirit did hover over the proceedings, it was a peaceful presence.
I hope he sensed the respect and appreciation that his work elicited and that he so richly deserves.
I hope he sensed the respect and appreciation that his work elicited and that he so richly deserves.
  |   |
Photos courtesy of Yvonne Hunter
RSS Feed
