Dragon's Eye. Duncan Regehr

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      Waiting for Oskar OIL 30”x24” 1990

      Along with my decision to improve myself physically, I resolved to extend my knowledge of art history and to study specific artists, both past and present.

      I developed a strong interest in several areas of 19th and 20th century art, most notably Expressionism and Romanticism; with a proclivity for the Pre-Raphaelites and the Secession group of Austrian artists: Gustav Klimt, Egon Schiele, and Oskar Kokoschka. I have also admired the contemporary work of Lucian Freud, Frank Auerbach, and the late Francis Bacon.

      Emulating the individual styles of painters has never interested me. There are innumerable forces which incline creativity. I suspect the impact of other artists’ work upon my own to be very slight.

      My studies have given me to understand that the strongest influences are usually hidden from the artist but I doubt if this is true of myself

      II

      TO SEA ...

       OR NOT TO SEE

      Shakespeare

      Macbeth OIL 17” x 11”

      Othello WATERCOLOR 24”x18” 1974

      I N 1974 I MARRIED FRANCINE WURSTER, a vibrantly sensual actress from Chicago. That same year I joined the Stratford Shakespeare Festival in Ontario.

      The characters and scenes of Shakespeare’s plays are so richly layered they breach reality. Similarly, many of the lead players at the festival were burdened with top-heavy personalities, usually perched upon a delicate fulcrum of psychological insecurity. Along with the plays, they became the resource material for a new series of paintings.

      Artistic director Jean Gascon introduced the longstanding members of the company as “The Stratford Royalty.” The hierarchy was calculated and it served to intimidate newcomers who might rise too swiftly above their stations.

      Richard III WATERCOLOR 24”x18” 1975

      The tallish juve Stratford Shakespeare Festival, 1974

      I remember one star of very short stature (a legendary giant in his own mind) who, upon noting that he was to share the stage with a tallish “juve,” announced in acid sibilants to the director: “Whenever I make an entrance, I want whatssshisssname, the hulking blue-eyed number in the loincloth, to ssstand well to the back!”

      And so I did. I retreated into the world of my art and the honeymoon arms of the vivacious Francine.

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