A Gift From Nelson
Nelson Shanks died last week at the age of 77. He painted many cultural celebrities of his time, including Pavarotti, Princess Diana, Margaret Thatcher, and the Pope. Perhaps most famously, he painted President Bill Clinton’s portrait destined for the National Portrait Gallery. In an interview earlier this year he said he included a shadow from a blue dress, an allusion to the Monica Lewinsky scandal.
I first met Nelson while I was trying to raise money to buy the Cape School of Color on Pearl Street in Provincetown. I failed, but Nelson became a friend and mentor. I began studying with him shortly after in New York and West Palm Beach. He convinced me to go to Philadelphia to be a part of the creation of his art school, Studio Incamminati.
Being in Nelson’s world included ravenous breakfast conversations about painting, celebrities, and an overwhelming feeling we were doing serious work as realistic painters.
We were always talking about painting. He was always teaching. I remember once we were driving the New Jersey Turnpike — one of the most visually uninspiring roads in America — in one of the most unispiring vehicles — the mini-van. During the trip Nelson pointed out endless possible landscape compositions. We were constantly challenging us to see design everywhere.
Nelson made you feel like a rock star groupie. I watched him paint Marisa Tomie at the Metropolitian Museum of Art. He was on stage painting while hundreds of people in the audience watched. Backstage, my job was to entertain Marisa’s grandmother. Later that night we all went to see Marisa in a play with Al Pacino. Marisa later brought him out to meet us.
When it came to teaching, he was uncompromising. He would often chastise you for not holding your brush at the very end. “Stand up straight, hold the brush and use the whole thing, you payed for it!” Standing Nelson Shanks style, I felt like a matador at a bullfight. Only now do I understand how important it is to approach your work like its life or death.
This is where Nelson really excelled as a teacher and a leader. He took us to museums and he lovingly told us why specific paintings were great and others mindless. He pushed you to always go beyond yourself, whatever you were painting. I always did a great initial pass through the color composition. He was the only teacher that ever held me back and insisted I do it again better and then again.
He demanded I put more of myself in every commission. I have grown so much over the years since I studied with him by heeding his direction.
Painting was the only thing for Nelson. He treated the artists who were lucky enough to study with him like the chosen few. He gave such gravity to our pursuit of great painting.
I couldn’t possibly thank him enough for all that he has taught me. I’m trying to be as powerful a force for my own students. I’m grateful to have spent time with this great man.
