Closer to Close

"This sold out weeks ago. You are the lucky ones."

So said VMFA Director Alex Nyerges to a packed theater moments before legendary artist Chuck Close took the stage, but not before curator John Ravenal spoke of Close's commitment to portraiture in an era of abstract expressionism as well as Close's devotion to the mechanics of representation.

The event took a conversational format with Close's friend of 42 years, author Christoper Finch, using slides to generate talking points between himself and the artist.

As thrilled as I was to be in the presence of this man, I could have generated endless questions myself with nothing more than curiosity and nosiness, but visuals are nice, too.

Finch recalled first meeting Close and described his outfit at the time as a denim work shirt with a white t-shirt underneath, "That was before Soho black," Close explained, "back when artists had to look like workers." It was the first of his many humorous observations throughout the evening.

Finch showed a slide of a young Close in magician's garb and Close said that he thought painting was the most magical of medias because it allowed, "conjuring up illusions to fool people."

Sipping Scotch as he answered questions and reminisced, Close talked about his learning disabilities, his decision to go to grad school to avoid the draft ("I owe everything to Fidel," he said), and his presumption that art collectors would be jerks ("Except for Frances [Lewis]!" he wisely said, knowing that local legend and great modern art collector was in the audience).

Unlike Warhol who was then painting celebrities, Close wanted to paint anonymous people, preferably those with life experience. "It's hard to paint a baby. They haven't had a life, so they have no wrinkles, the kind of stuff I love to paint."

Some of what he shared was fascinating for its look into the mind of an artist. He said that it's impossible for him to be working on two paintings concurrently. He mentioned that he is still working off of the same 1968 photo of Philip Glass that he has been using since the first portrait he did of Glass. "I need to retire it," he laughed.

And why portraits? "The face is a road map of the life experience you've had," he said simply. He cited Vermeer as his favorite all-time painter. Woman in a Red Hat, his favorite Vermeer, is
"compressed energy in a 6" by 9" painting." He referred to her mouth as "the greatest orifice in the history of painting." Such a wonderful acknowledgement.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Ravenal was back on stage telling Close and Finch that the two had a mere five minutes left. When the artist suggested taking questions, the curator informed him that they weren't set up for questions. "Boo!" Close said to the audience, most of whom would have no doubt loved to ask something, anything of this man.

So things were summarily wrapped up and Close made his final witty observation. "The slides ran out at the exact same time as the Scotch ran out."

Now that's artistry.