I took a painting class with my father for twenty years. We were students of Fred Lipp so this was not a formal art class. It was deeper than that, closer to an experience, one that I felt made his “students” richer as human beings. We all worked in our own mediums on our own projects. There were no lessons or exercises. It was often abstract as to what was being accomplished. Fred would circulate around the room for individual consultation – you were not allowed to talk until he “looked” at your work – and sometimes you would only have a couple of exchanges with him but they were packed. I would often write the comments down when he moved on to the next person. The comments would often appear cryptic the next day but then reveal themselves over time.
When Fred got to my father they would often talk about whoever the guest was on Charlie Rose’s show the night before. Fred came down with pancreatic cancer and died before my father. On his deathbed he told me, “Your father is a trip!”
My father, who often said he couldn’t talk without a pencil, used to sketch the guests on his iPad as he watched the show. Peggi read Thomas Friedman’s column aloud today while I did a few stretching exercises and it made think of my father’s iPad sketch. I put 250 of Leo’s Charlie Rose Drawings online in 2011.
1 Comment
Wow. Those drawings! There should surely be a book, or a digital display. Imagine if you wove in yours as well (crimes)