So in a lot of ways, if I look at Edward Munch, he’s showing us, at the same time as Freud, what the tensions of the 20th and 21st century are going to be. Titian is showing us some amazing images that are more related to surrealism, I think, than his own period of time.
Things like that. Like de Chirico, also, a great prophet, although the guy was screwed up in terms of his later work, I think. But the early great stuff. It’s so fine. It’s so fine. And so touching.
So that’s what I want to say. I think it’s hard to label anything. And I think we shouldn’t label. We should just let the person ride out into a few decades and hope that they find who they have to find.
Larry Groff:
I was curious. One is kind of unrelated to the other ones, but maybe not so much. I read that you had once, when you were living in Italy, you had met Giorgio Morandi. And I find that very curious. I hadn’t read of anyone meeting him like you did. I was just wondering if you could speak a little about his work.
That seems to me something that is very much about aesthetics and formal issues and beauty, and it’s hard to really see where this could go in what we were just talking about, but still has a profound effect on so many artists who, in turn, may go on and do something else.
It was very personal to him and very real. I w as just curious what you would say about his work and about meeting him.
Giorgiob Morandi_Natura morta 1956
Jerome Witkin:
I became twenty-one in Florence. A little party was given for me with some English people at this pensione. It was very cute. And then a few days after that, I decided meeting this woman, a very young, beautiful American girl, with a car; I told her that I had this wish to spend this week of my birthday, twenty-one years old, doing something unusual that I had been thinking about. On the trip to Europe out of New York, there was a critic for ARTNews, whose name I’m now forgetting. But he told me that he knew Morandi’s address.
He gave me the address, and I had it in my wallet. I pulled it out that day, and I said to this girl, “If I get somebody to help me write the letter in Italian …” I could speak Italian fairly well, but the writing was a problem. I did finally get her to help me write the letter saying, “Dear Morandi, I would like very much to come up, if you’d allow me, to your studio and to share with you some time and offer you two drawings.
And oddly enough, I got a letter back saying [to] come up next week. And she drove me, and herself, of course, to Bedonia from Florence. I think he was about seventy-one then. He used to [be], on every Wednesday, I think it was, at the Via Fondazza, where he lived on the street.
I walked in the house rather regularly. I had to walk through the bedrooms of his sisters, and sure enough, that’s all true. And they were very polite, the sisters, and they said to me, “Wait here. You are next in line.”
This was like visiting the Art Pope, because he was so famous then. La Dolce Vita, the film that came out in 1960, he’s mentioned in the movie and his work is shot in the movie as one of the great signals of Rome’s culture, post World War II.
I go into his studio. I see the little bottles with the dust, the dust around the little necks of the bottles, and all that stuff. I felt very familiar with the work, and I loved the work so much. I love the work because it’s so intensely beautiful. There was nothing to say except it’s so beautiful and so right. There were like little people in agreement with each other, out of these bottles.
So I sat down, and we spoke Italian. And I offered him two of my drawings. He said, “Oh, I must give you two of mine from this cabinet.” He [then] said, “No, I don’t have them.” I said, “Don’t worry about it.” And we sat down.
He was philosophical, and telling me things like, art eventually is all about reality and how you define reality. And I continued to think about that for a long time. It’s a very broad word. But I think that’s true. He found his reality and he found profundity in what he did.
So I don’t think I became a still life painter, or never cared to do that, but I found what is my reality, as he did. Did he know he was making great art? I think he did, but at the same time, I don’t know if you know this, but he would give work away easily. Like he said, “Here. Take this painting.” A lot of dealers would go nuts because he didn’t even value the commercial end of that stuff. He would just say, “If you like it, take it.” He was very generous that way.
At the same time, those two drawings which I never received, that’s not as important as meeting him. And I’ve been very lucky in my life in meeting certain—I call them profound people, like Guston and Morandi and Bill de Kooning and Franz Klein. Isabel Bishop is a personal friend. Alice Neel is crazy but interesting. I don’t think she’s as high as Morandi, but she was a wonderful person to bring to young women, which I brought to her studios and young classes of mine during my time in Philadelphia or Syracuse.
We are deepened by our teachers, our mentors, and I think the Morandi experience was so special, so special. And I think when you’re in your studio by yourself, you think, Who is my audience? If Morandi is standing behind me or Isabel Bishop or Bill de Kooning or Phil Guston or Orozco. Rembrandt. Those are your real audiences. They’re the climbers of Everest and they’re helping you to get to the top.
Larry Groff:
Right. Did you know Edwin Dickinson at all?
Jerome Witkin:
No. A very good friend of mine, John Driscoll wrote his doctorate on Dickinson. Unfortunately when John Driscoll went to the studio of Edwin Dickinson, Dickinson was already [suffering from] Alzheimer’s or collapse of his mind, and he wasn’t really that receptive.
I saw [Edwin Dickinson’s] show at the Philadelphia Academy, some years ago now, the retrospective. I really think he did some really three or four incredible pieces, but he wasn’t as consistent as one would have hoped. His greatest little painting is that little one he did in Paris of the Pont Neuf. Cornell up here, in upstate New York has one of his better large paintings. He did three of them, like dream pictures and they have one of those three. And they are marvelously memorable pictures.
The Met has that one crazy picture he spent twenty years on …
Larry Groff:
Ruins at Daphne?
Jerome Witkin:
… the one with the … that one. The birds and the architecture. Which is amazing, because he can find ways of combining drawing and painting very well. But I think some of his work is very sentimental, and some of it is very interesting. But I think he’s less of a great artist because he’ll be an uneven character of the work. And he would make these four-star things and then he would do these one-star pictures for a long time. So I didn’t get it. His drawings are also very interesting, but …
Interestingly, Isabel Bishop collected a lot of his drawings, and had in her estate quite a bit of them, too. Dickinson, unfortunately, I think people copy that kind of style of rub-a-dub-dub and leftover bits and stuff like that. And it looks good, but it could be very style-driven. I think in the original Man, Dickinson, I think he loved that stuff. But unfortunately, a lot of people copied it to a point where they simply became little “Dick heads” if that’s a word …
Larry Groff:
I hadn’t heard that one before. That’s pretty funny …
Jerome Witkin:
Well, I just made it up. Or Son of Dick. Why don’t we put it that way.
Francis Sills
I very much enjoyed the interview with Jerome. He had such a big impact on me at Syracuse (I took classes with him for a few years). I remember his larger than life personality and art, specifically visiting his studio several times, going to his house for dinner, drawing cadavers at the medical school morgue in his anatomy class (one of my top 5 or 6 most profound life experiences), and watching him draw during class (probably one of the best draftsman I’ve ever seen or known) I admire his determination and willingness to create paintings which are heroic and challenging, and at times corny and very disturbing, but as he states in the interview, are being driven by his personal/spiritual need. It’s very inspiring to see an artist create things that are not always ‘marketable’, striving for an existence beyond fashion and aesthetics. Sad to hear him talk about his son (he had just been born when I was there), but praying that his surgeries go well and he’ll have a continued life of good health. Thanks again Larry for showcasing some great art; looking forward to what’s next.
Larry
Glad you liked it Francis. You are incredibly lucky to have studied with him at Syracuse – I was inspired by just talking to him on the phone but to hear him talk in his studio and the classroom must be really something.
I spoke to him again briefly and he asked that I send him people’s comments from this interview later on. He said he’s very interested in reading people’s comments about his work and ideas. So I hope readers won’t be shy and please contribute your reaction and thoughts to the comments here.
Jack Rutberg
I greatly enjoyed your interview with Jerome Witkin. I should point out that at the end you note that Jack Rutberg Fine Arts is in San Francisco. The gallery is actually located in Los Angeles.
As Jerome Witkin’s agent, I’ve had the opportunity to share the podium with Jerome on many occasions. As compelling as the written interview is, since I see that you have an audio feature, I would encourage any reader to listen to it. Jerome is a wonderful story teller and the gravitas and his awe for great art comes through in his voice. He’s that rare artist whose articulate speaking skills can compliment these amazing paintings without getting in their way, in spite of the fact that his paintings often depict the indescribable…as in the case of the Holocaust works. For those who need more after listening to this interview, I’d like to post here a link to a wonderful public radio program from 1998 on the occasion of a monumental drawings exhibition of Jerome’s in Los Angeles. http://kcbx.org/mp3archive/eoa080604.mp3
Jerome’s comments were inspiring and we’re all enriched by them.
Larry
I appreciate your comment Mr. Rutberg – I look forward to listening to the podcast you linked to, thanks. My apologies about the mistake about your location, I’ll correct that shortly.
bill murphy
I believe that Jerome Witkin is one of the most courageous painters I know of. Nothing seems to be beyond his power of realization. His work reminds me of what Francis Coppola once said – “If it can thought, it can be filmed” (painted). It is a testament to the times we are living through that not more people know of what he has done.
I appreciate your posting his work, Larry, and hope you will continue this endeavor…
Hank Buffington
That was very interesting. Another great interview. I had never heard of him before and I look forward to seeing more of his wonderful paintings. Thanks Larry.
Kevin D Smith
A wonderful, important, and singular painter! Two of my favorite paintings are Subway: A Marriage, and A Jesus For Our Time. In these, as well as most of his work, he is able to create fully realized individuals burdened with the weight of past experiences, and rich, poignant responses to traumatic events and circumstances. The multiple panels really allow the viewer to follow the vitality of the narrative and the journey of the protagonist. His imagination in concieving the dramas in his work is courageous and inspiring. I can’t think of another contemporary narrative figure painter with such powerful and revelatory work(certainly not Beal or Leslie, maybe certain works by Fischl).
The Life Lessons book is a prized possession of mine, and I hope I get the chance to see Mr. Witkin’s paintings in person someday.
Anyway, Thanks for a great post in particular and a great blog in general.
jade
wow. thanks larry.
Matthew Mattingly
Thank you for introducing me to this great painter and thinker. I agree with you about the absurdity of ranking artists as if art were a contest, when it is in essence an encounter between subjectivities.
I’m also skeptical of comparisons, but if I was going to compare him with another artist, Freud wouldn’t be my first choice. I think of Freud as primarily exploring the interaction of depicted form with the physical paint, with subject matter in a supporting role; Witkin seems to be using the paint to create a compelling image, with content and symbolism much more in the ascendancy. Not that the painting per se isn’t beautiful, but I get around to looking at it after reacting to the imagery, not before.
An artist I do see resonances with is Henry Koerner, who shares fantastic and enigmatic imagery, illustrative technique, and engagement with political and philosophical issues, in particular the Holocaust, which claimed his parents and brother. Both Koerner and Witkin combine realistically painted images with collage-like juxtaposition, or introduce “real” elements such as posters, signs, reflections, door frames, etc that create collage effects in the context of a naturalistically rendered space.
Terminal is a good example of this, used to great emotional effect. On first viewing, I found it difficult to parse the various planes into a sense of the 3D space, and only after spotting the yellow star on the man’s jacket did it fall into place as a cattle car, with the door about to be shut on its doomed occupant. The treatment of the textures and structures remind me of Adolph von Menzel’s iron and wood realism, but here as the stolidly quotidian setting for a surreal nightmare that came true.
This painting also features the battered suitcase, which appears to be a recurring motif in Witkin’s work.
I wish I knew more about the background to Entering Darkness. The green Hitler head morphing into a reaching hand recalls the green Mussolini head jack-in-the-box in Peter Blume’s Eternal City, but even more terrifying. But what is the whole series about? Was there in fact a nurse who was detailed to go assist Mengele in his experiments?
What really got to me was Witkin’s declaration the making art is a spiritual journey, and his manifest willingness to grapple with the big questions combined with his corollary doubts – the risk doing something “foolish.”
Besides the possibility of looking foolish to the outside world, the deeper question is, How to pick your way on the path? Is a particular image or idea a revelation or just a hallucination?
As Witkin says, this is not easy, and he turns to the “Everest climbers” for guidance.
I also liked his statement on the portrait – “showing something more than somebody in a chair.”
But the most moving part of all is the relationship he has between his family and his art, and the realization that the two are truly connected. The fear that his son would die prompted a painting that might well have been an excellent depiction of despair, but had to be destroyed because defeat and pity had no place in the real-life battle for life and hope. Art is not something that takes place in the “art world.” It is part of the world, period.
Rebecca
Witkin is a very gutsy human being and artist – fearlessness in the face of fear, and I think this is an excellent lesson for any artist. I think many artists prefer to choose something a little easier to grapple with, but Witkin is calling into focus the very purpose of human existence. It is not often that we see artists who dig into life so fully, exposing its tragedies, struggles and nobility of effort. Because of this, his works could verge on the edge of becoming kitsch or illustrative if the themes were painted in a different way. But he is not simply documenting, he is trying to immerse himself fully in the subjects, and as a result, the emotions this process brings out causes marks of passion and empathy, something which happens without you even realising. In the radio program posted above, I listened to Witkin describing something I recognized, what happens sometimes when he looks at one of his past works. You look at the work and do not actually believe that you did it. You look at a mark and cannot recall what caused you to make it so, and yet it is the right mark, and one you cannot repeat.
I think Witkin reveals how significant art can become if the artist puts their entire soul into a painting about real life, not just motifs in nature. He is not concerned with making pleasing pictures, artistic constructs or shocking effects to call attention. His paintings can be haunting and devastating, but at the same time they provide solace. They provide questions and answers, but not necessarily the answers to the questions. Larry – thank you for posting this, and Jerome Witkin, thank you for painting.
Neil Plotkin
Thank you so much for another incredible interview. I saw Jerome Witkin speak at the New York Academy of Art in the fall of 2008. I wasn’t familiar with his work or him at all and came away very inspired. I found his pursuit of heroic painting to be so exciting and straight forward. He seemed to distill the world around us into very clear straight forward narratives – very much like an author. I wanted to be able to hold onto that talk as a touchstone to re-inspire myself, but since it was a talk and the words were all in the ether, it was somewhat lost to me over time. It is really fantastic to be able to read and reread his thoughts and comments.
I am very impressed with what he said about his meeting with Giorgio Morandi. It seems to me that the comments about that meeting sum up what it means to be an painter. That we are looking to define our own reality. The mundane things that Morandi painted were elevated to a profound level because Morandi found his reality there. And I feel the reason that Mr. Witkin is able to make such powerful work is, as he stated, he had found his reality. It’s amazing to read that Mr. Witkin, a painter of incredibly complex narratives, cites Morandi, a painter of intense editing paring his compositions down to a mere few vases, as as a source of great inspiration. And at the end of the day both make extremely compelling work because they are after the same thing and that is to make work within their own realities. And he sums up about that meeting with the knock out comment of who is your audience. I
I am really happy that you included the post interview chat as I think it gives a real sense of humility in both of your approaches to painting. This dialog really reinforced what he had said about Morandi and creating your own reality. It is really so amazing to hear Mr. Witkin – who is one of the best narrative paintings living – to say that there is just as much value in a Corot from Italy as anything else painted. He seems so supportive of any aspect of painting done with integrity.
There is so much to chew on that I’ll have to reread it again. Please thank Mr. Witkin for readers like me who find his reflections so helpful to feel like there is purpose in doing this day after day. And of course my thoughts go to him and his son and wishing for his son’s good health.
gage opdenbrouw
Thanks again, Larry. Jerome Witkin is amazing. And his success is bracing, when I think of the stuff the art world typically embraces. I was surprised when i found this article on your site (not sure why, but i guess i think of Witkin as a narrative painter, though obviously he works from life).
You are consistently posting good food for thought, fuel for the fire. As many artists as I know, i often get to feeling a bit alone in the studio–and i think that solitude is something a painter has to draw close to–but it is nice to have such a resource for sharing the works of great artists and our thoughts about them. Great interview, thanks for all your work on this blog. I know I appreciate and enjoy it very much.
Larry
Thanks to everyone writing such thoughtful and well written comments and I’m sure that Jerome Witkin will also appreciate them when I eventually forward the comments to him.
One thought I had, after reading Gage’s comment about narrative painting and observational painting, is that it’s true many painters working from life tend to either avoid narration or only suggest it in more subtle ways. Jerome Witkin shows it can be done only as compelling narration but also on a poetic, formal level. When you think of the greatest paintings in history, the majority are narrative painting in some way or another. I’ve talked to some people who feel that is contemporary perceptual painting biggest shortcoming is the lack of big ideas, both art theory ideas and social/political/psychological ideas. Other people think this lack is one of perceptual painting’s strengths (I think tend to fall in that category) But after looking at his work more and thinking about the interview and other readings I’m not so sure.
I’ve often felt that there have only been very few painters who have successfully painted political themes on occasion, like Goya, David, Manet, Gericault, Kollowitz, and maybe Picasso. I never warmed up to most of the political painters like Leon Gulub or the more recent post-modern expressionistic works that overtly protest various injustices, war and the like. I’ve often thought of political art as on oxymoron. Also that much of the painting was to make “banner art” to wave to like believers of some cause. Despite the fact the cause may be of vital importance, often the only people who will see or care about such paintings are already on board and the choir often gets bored with all the preachers lining up to preach.
However, when you think about it – most religious art throughout history has also been political in some way. Virtually all depictions of people, except for the formal works like Philip Pearlstien, could also have some political context. I suspect the real problem is less that political art is bad and more to do with the current mindset of many post-modern type painters going for the shock value of raw, crude manners of painting that echos their anger or other forms of painting that pays less attention to good drawing, color and composition and ideas (that should cover everything!)
Jerome Witkin shows it’s possible to paint gutsy, passionate pictures with great integrity both in visual and in human terms. His work gives me hope that we can still think of new ways to respond artfully as painters to the world we live in.
Rebecca
Larry,
You raise an excellent point, and certainly one very interesting to ponder. I too see very little narrative in much of contemporary perceptual painting, as the emphasis seems more on the process of perception and less on the final result of what the painting “says” about the subject as opposed to the painter’s process. One of the reasons I found Witkin’s paintings remarkable is for his capacity to do both. Being able to say more about the subject rather than concentrate on one’s own personal artistic process probably stems from a spiritual guidance of sorts, and this is something Witkin has. It reminds me in some ways of Norman Rockwell’s ability to plunge deeply into the humanity of life, even if certainly for illustrative assignments but often times also poignantly beautiful, and of Sophie Jodoin’s explorations of themes about life, not just an exploration of the figure, but the figure’s fragility and strength in context of its very existence. Ann Gale probes deeply into the psychology of her subjects also, but there I think the focus still is more on the artist’s process of perception. Anyway, thanks for the comment Larry, good things to think about.
Matthew Mattingly
While I enjoy looking at paintings on many levels, the experience I relish the most is when I find that my perceptions have been reprogrammed by the artist’s. So when walking out of a Degas exhibition, everything looks likes a Degas. My intentional visual control system has learned to search out certain linear rhythms, shapes, and values, so even though the world into which I emerge contains no ballerinas, bathing women, or horses, I discover the Degassian schema beneath the surface.
I bring this up, because although at first glance I considered Witkin’s world to be fantastical or surreal, after spending a morning looking at his work, I found that my perceptions had been Witkinized, and I perceived my own cluttered living room according to a new visual principle. I especially noticed how reflected images, photos, artwork, spaces framed by doorways and windows,and other “pictures in the picture” fit together in a collage-like but unified fashion I had originally noted in Witkin’s paintings.
Not all artists, or even all good artists, have this effect. For instance, I like Rockwell, and may from time to time see a scene and think, “That looks like a Rockwell,” but I never find myself seeing everything as Rockwellian. I think this is because he does a great job of rendering reality as conventionally received, but doesn’t supply a novel visual language or schema. I like the way he does an old truck fender, but it’s pretty much the image of an old truck fender I had in mind to begin with.
So, to me, perceptual is not opposed to narrative; they are separate channels over which the painter may or may not communicate.
erik halvorsen
another wonderful Larry. This is turning into a really exciting oral history project. I imagine the Smithsonian will want to get a copy of these at some point.
I don’t have much to add that hasn’t been noted above except that I particularly enjoyed the little story about his encounter with Morandi. What a special moment.
Also, his comment about “little Dick-heads” was quite funny. The same can be applied to many successful artists and their followers.
Thanks for posting the audio with these as well. You have been fortunate to interview painters who happen to be very articulate and engaging and I’ve enjoyed returning to them on my iPod from time to time.
james
Oh how I wish I had known about this wonderful artist and educator and that Syracuse University was so close to Ottawa. I may have chosen to go there for an art education.
He blows me away with his technique and he frightens me terribly about the awful truth of Nazi treatment of its prisoners.
May we never ever allow this time in history to repeat itself. But then that is my naivete coming through. Mankind has always been the depths of hell on earth in how it treats its fellowman, love or hate.
Skip Rohde
Wonderful interview, Larry. I discovered Jerome Witkin about ten years ago, and a few years later had the opportunity to study with him one-on-one in his studio. He is an incredibly wonderful man, unbelievably generous, warm, and humble. His paintings are fascinating in book or on your computer screen, but in person, they pack a punch that must be experienced. I came away with a notebook filled with thoughts and insights that, years later, I’m still digesting. This interview brought still more. Jerome’s comment about who your audience really is hit home. So often, we think of our audience as some unknown collector who might buy our work, and we (consciously or unconsciously) tailor it to them. When we’re trying to pay the bills, that’s not surprising, but it’s also short-sighted. Thanks to you and to Jerome for this reminder.
Michael Dwyer
Larry, I stumbled on your excellent interview when I googled Jerome a few days ago. I work at an art museum and was matting and framing one of Jerome’s drawings for a show that is being curated by one of Jerome’s friends, Sig Abeles. I also studied under Jerome in the mid-80s, at Syracuse. I was a not very disciplined student and cut too many classes, including the day his Anatomy class went to the morgue. But Jerome still made a serious impact on me. I’ve been a fan of his paintings and an even bigger fan of his drawings, for years. He is the finest draftsman I’ve ever encountered, personally.(Thanks for including a drawing with the interview, BTW). I remember working on a life-size double figure drawing in that class. Jerome asked the models to pose as if they had just discovered their nakedness and were being cast out of the Garden of Eden, by God. Those classes were six hours long and I think we worked on that pose for 2 or 3 weeks. I learned about pushing past the moment when you think you’ve drawn all you can see…to keep looking and revising. I kept that drawing for years.
Cayetano Valenzuela
Thought you might be interested in this show:
http://vpa.syr.edu/events/drawn-paint-art-jerome-witkin
Drawn to Paint: The Art of Jerome Witkin consists of 70 works–including drawings, paintings and sketchbooks–by Witkin, one of America’s leading figurative painters and a longtime professor of painting in VPA’s Department of Art. Dividing the show between the two venues allows for broader access and engagement within the community.
Drawn to Paint marks the first time Witkin has allowed his drawings to be displayed beside their finished works. Curator of the exhibition is Edward A. Aiken, associate professor and program coordinator of VPA’s graduate program in museum studies in the Department of Design. “Drawn to Paint” will be traveling to other museums around the country during a two-year tour that will conclude at the Palmer Museum of Art in University Park, Pa.
Witkin’s career as a professor at VPA spans four decades. He has known an enviable number of artists central to the development of 20th-century American painting, and he has studied the history of art with great care. Witkin brings all of this knowledge of drawing, painting and history to bear in the classroom studio, where he encourages and critiques his students. This exhibition celebrates Witkin’s career as an artist-teacher, a dual role in which he has excelled.
The works included in Drawn to Paint come from galleries, private collections and museums across the country. Notable institutional lenders include the Munson-William-Proctor Arts Institute in Utica, N.Y.; the Memorial Art Gallery in Rochester, N.Y.; the Everson Museum in Syracuse; the Palmer Museum of Art in University Park, Pa., and Jack Rutberg Fine Arts in Los Angeles.
For SUArt Galleries hours, related programming, and more information on the show, visit suart.syr.edu or Facebook. XL Projects is open Wednesday-Sunday, noon-6 p.m. The gallery may be contacted at (315) 442-2542 during gallery hours or e-mail Andrew Havenhand at ahavenhand@yahoo.com.
Marie Lamb: WCNY-FM
To add to Mr. Valenzuela’s post about the “Drawn to Paint” exhibition, I am the producer of the “Arts Talk” radio features for WCNY-FM in Syracuse. I had the privilege of interviewing Jerome Witkin about the exhibit, and about aspects of his painting and teaching career. WCNY-FM broadcast short excerpts from the interview on the air, and we have the full interview on the “Arts Talk” blog. You can hear it at http://blogs.wcny.org/jerome-witkin-drawn-to-paint-2/
Francis Sills
I just got the catalog for Jerome’s show at Syracuse University: “Drawn to Paint”. I highly recommend getting it for anyone who’s a fan of his work. There are great color reproductions, some lengthy essays, and it’s only $20. You can order it through SU’s book store. Wish I could go see the show in person…
john lo presti
I too just stumbled on this article. Absolutely terrific! I took a life drawing course with Jerome back in the mid ’70s at Sryacuse. Man could he draw. I’ll always remember him talking about the energy he had with his fellow students at Cooper Union.
James R. Sparks
I have an oil Painting which I believe is a Witkin.Must be at least 30 years old it was givin
to me by my brother in law who passed away 11 years ago. He traveled all over the world
buying paintings and artifacts.How do I verify the authenticity.Of this wonderful art so I
may share it with others.
john hunn
Jerome is my absolute favorite contemporary figurative painter. His sense of color, the language changes going from raw to peaceful passage. Always pushing out, the work is so compressed and filled with such energy. Just wonderfully painted.
Sharon Knettell
J’adore Jerome Witkin!
In my opinion -that often much of current realist painting is too enamoured with the Academic. Mr. Witkin takes fine draughtsmanship and brings it powerfully into the 21st century. I have decried the lack of rigorous classical schooling- I am a victim of the Boston Museum School; but I do think that an artist like Witkin points out a fresh new direction for mimetic painting.
What imaginitave work- he makes us see the ordinary anew.
Kaleigh
Hello!
Could you please note under “Bridge” that this piece is in the collection of the Canton Museum of Art? I can imagine some people may want to know where it is if they want to see it in person.
Thank you.
paintingp
just made that change for you.
Daniel Schiavone
Jerome came up in conversation, which led to an Internet search, which led me to your interview. I met him while a student in the painting department at Syracuse University.
I would encourage you to make these interviews available on the major podcasting platforms. There’s not much quality art podcasts and less the focus on painting.