The Portrait of Maureen Snyder
My artwork and portraits are like my children. I like to follow them as they move or stay with people forever. The portraits never age but they grow in meaning over time. My goal is to create works of art with staying power, works that connect, like a forever love. Back in 1993, I was wintering in Sarasota, a nice break from NYC, with my fiancé at the time, who was playing Flute in some winter music festival for a couple months. We met some wonderful people and talented musicians. I love musicians of all the disciplines. After all, music was my first love. There is something beautiful they way they let their instrument to most of the talking. Actors are delightful, but all that ego! Of course, the really good ones have had to master that monster. And as a serious actor myself at the time, I made plenty of trips to Orlando for some commercial auditions, ego and all.
But mostly I painted.
Maureen Snyder was a very talented French Hornist in the orchestra with Janet. Maureen fell in love with my work and asked me to paint her. I find my work is often most appreciated by artists in any discipline. I certainly had plenty of time, spending most of my days dreaming, reading poetry on the seashore, or painting. So I asked her if I could paint her from life. She loved the idea. So, she came to my makeshift studio. Over the years, I have painted in almost any conditions. One year, my studio was next to the furnace in the dark cellar of my flat in Grosse Pointe, MI. I did some of my signature portraits with a single 150 watt bulb hanging from the ceiling, serving me well, as my studio lighting.
But in Sarasota I had plenty of light, and a beautiful subject. To be honest I had forgotten I did this portrait. I’ve done so many over these 45 years. But seeing the portrait brought back the memory of that brief connection that only an artist can have with his sitter. Maureen sat so very still. But she was at the same time so very alive. I finished it in a couple hours. It was more of a sketch, really. I knew if I kept going I probably would have ruined it. And so, off she went, wet painting carefully placed in the backseat of her car. Another satisfied customer.
Susan Snyder, her sister, called me out of the blue the other day, having seen my signature on the portrait, and did what any warm blooded American would do; she googled it. Susan sent me a pic of the portrait I had painted thirty-three years ago. She and I reminisced for quite a while, as we put all the pieces together. Susan told me about how promising a musician Maureen was and how passionate she was about her playing. Then she told me Maureen died in a tragic car accident within a year of my painting her. Just like that, she lost her sister and her best friend. The portrait hung at her parents’ home over the years. And when they passed away, it went to her beloved sister. So Maureen, and the wonderful experience we had together that day, as artist and model, lives on forever, treasured by her sister. It is incredibly humbling, the work I do. It never ceases to amaze me how fragile we are and how meaningful the job I am so privileged to have.