One Ear Society

The Blog of the One Ear Society


Tuesday, March 2, 2010


roadside show
I have a story for every day that I sit here in the gallery. This one is tragic on so many levels. Gentleman comes in and he asks me if I buy art and of course no, I try to sell it. He has some paintings he wants me to see. This is exciting you never know what will pop up. I've had works here by now deceased Tony Scornavacca who in his time was considered a Picasso in this area. The work presented to me was being divested by a friend. The small paintings I re-framed and he had another which was magnificent a drawing on paper, unfortunately it was foxed so badly I would not allow it into the gallery for fear of the fungal spores would fly around and infect other works of art in the gallery. His had been lovingly stored on a boat in the Keys.
A foxed Tony Scornavacca
This new situation is even more tragic. The person in question reached the sun only to be burned. Could have been an attorney, now disbarred perhaps a Dr. no longer licensed. He still has his wardrobe and beautiful leather shoes. At one point if I had identified him by this exterior, I would have said he could purchase anything his heart desires in the gallery. Now he is somewhat disheveled no longer interested in maintaining his appearance. Instead he shows me two paintings and a large sketch on newsprint. He wants my opinion. I've assessed the situation, he is not the first homeless to come in and show me work. I look at the work and it does not speak to me. One piece is badly scratched, the other a amateur attempt at a nude, very stiff, the third is the badly water stained newsprint. I see some elements that are familiar. He has admitted that he is not the artist. He wants a valuation and possible submission to the incoming exhibition. "Hommage a la femme" Look at the signature and I know the artist , she has recently moved from our community and put them in the dumpster on Gifford Lane.
He came in again, this morning after leaning on a trash container and presenting me with a crude drawing which I watched him execute through the window. There were elements that flowed natural and pleasing and then the critical parts they were horrid. I guess if you can't do anything else do art, it works for some but not for him.


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