Dead Artists’ Society They may be cold but their art is hot. by DAVID HALL Anderson’s A Study for the Mural of Southern History and Life, c. 1945 At the opening for “American Narratives,” at Ledbetter Lusk Gallery, I nervously observed a child, just out of reach of her mother, prancing about and pointing wildly in the vicinity of a $30,000 vase by Walter Anderson. The little girl was bubbling over with delight at the sight of the animals and patterns that undulate in bas relief around the surface of the vase and she excitedly reached out to touch it. Just in the nick of time, the until-then oblivious mother caught a glimpse of the label and frantically corralled the child’s flailing arms. I had to giggle, not just at the scene before me, but at the irony. After all, Anderson is the veritable Van Gogh of the American South. Largely ignored as an artist in his lifetime, the tales of his tragic life contribute to his renown. Who hasn’t heard about the cool reception he received for the mural he painted inside the community center of Ocean Springs (for which he got paid a buck), but which is now the main attraction of the Walter Anderson Museum of Art? Or about how Anderson spent much of the last 18 years of his life living a primitive existence, much of it on the islands off the Mississippi Gulf Coast, using his upturned dinghy as a shelter for weeks at a time. Legend has it that the artist survived Hurricane Betsy in 1965 while on Horn Island by lashing himself to the trunk of a tree. Whether they are true or not, anecdotes abound about the colorful exploits of the artist. After his death at the age of 62, a cache of his watercolors was found strewn on the floor of his cabin. These are now among the most highly prized of his works and are widely exhibited and reproduced as prints. Well, it has been said that there is no boon to an artist’s career like dying, and here is Anderson’s handiwork quite comfortable among the works of Norman Rockwell, Thomas Hart Benton, and John Marin. It makes one wonder. Which regional artists among us today, considered “eccentric” and living close to the curb, will be celebrated generations from now? Will their abject poverty and subsistent lifestyle be similarly romanticized? Sadly, it probably will. It seems that post-mortem tributes have become part of our cultural heritage. Don’t get me wrong. The Andersons on display at Ledbetter Lusk are real treats. Horn Island Triptych is a fine example of the artist’s mastery of watercolor, a medium that few can harness. Even more rare is the artist that can find his own unique voice with watercolor. Anderson’s handling of the medium is immediately recognizable for its gracefully chiseled brushwork and subtly nuanced washes of greens, blues, and purples. Obviously not meant for public consumption, the rumpled typing paper is a little grimy, with notes in pencil specifying color choices. Certainly this aspect of its immediacy, of its humble honesty, of its having been underfoot even, is part of its charm. It conjures up all of the tired stereotypes of the crazy-mad genius living on the edge, the romantic bohemian, the noble savage, blah, blah, blah. … Study: Mural of Southern History and Life, a proposal for a public works project, has a rustic quality as well. Painted on unprimed plywood, the surface of the painting is rough, and the oil pigment is absorbed into the grain of the wood. Anderson mixes Southern history with a kind of Byzantine stylization; the artist’s depictions of men and horses are rendered with a childlike simplicity. Unfortunately, hospitalization due to mental illness cut short any chances of Anderson following through on the mural project. Not every artist represented in “American Narratives” led such a tragic life. Norman Rockwell certainly doesn’t fit that mold. Pioneer Woman shows why he was so popular as an illustrator. The crusty, long-rifle-wielding mama standing before the door of her log cabin, shielding her child, typifies Rockwell’s appeal: vignettes of American life frozen into an easily digestible archetype. Sure, their sentiments have become cliché, but Rockwell’s signature images are etched into the American psyche. A set of four lithographs, two each by Grant Wood and Thomas Hart Benton, depicts rural scenes that juxtapose Wood’s delicate draftsmanship and tight hatch marks against the slapstick perspective for which Benton is so well known. Both artists were purveyors of a distinctly American style dubbed Regionalism which eschewed early modernism in favor of homespun themes. All four prints are the same size, and appear to be from editions popularly distributed via print clubs. “American Narratives” is chock full of interesting work. Two drawings on tracing paper from the 1950s by Carroll Cloar are quite different in character than later works that relied more heavily on photographic resources. Also included is Cloar’s uncommon drawing of a pair of birds rendered in a Pollock-inspired drip. William S. Swartz’s From a Window (no. 29) looks past the shoulders of a woman gazing out at the jumble of buildings below, and is painted with jewel tones in a faceted cubist style. A portrait by the relatively unknown William Henry Kemble Yarrow, The Yellow Box, with its coarse handling and earthen palette, seems inspired by the work of James M. Whistler. Exhibited as well is the work of Elliot Daingerfield, Robert Gwathmey, and Ladis W. Sabo. “American Narratives” at Ledbetter Lusk through February 26th. This coming Friday, the International Artists Support Group’s art show “Body and Self” opens at Cooper Street Gallery between 6 and 9 p.m. Curator Jaye Moscariello says that the 42 participating artists were asked to submit works that expressed their own relationship to the body, and they responded with a wide variety of interpretations, from the very lighthearted and funny to the downright shocking. While most of the artists are from Washington, D.C., the show also includes participants from Los Angeles, New York, and South Africa. Local artists James Banks, Mary Long, Christine Conley, and Johnny Park are exhibiting as well. The use of the gallery has been donated by owner Jay Etkin, and the awards juror is David Lusk of Ledbetter Lusk Gallery. “Body and Self” at Cooper Street Gallery runs through March 2nd. David Hall is a local artist. You can e-mail David at letters@memphisflyer.com.