The Art of Sublime Banality: A Ron Throop Day

False Spring came this week, an all too brief break in February when the birds and humans get fooled by a southern breeze. Temperatures lift above freezing and the many joys of living are revisited in the brain. I woke up at my usual time to begin an unusual day in the life of the basement painter.

I saw Rose off to work after coffee, museli, and rapid conversation.

Then suited up in my painter’s clothes to work for an hour on my latest piece—a commission for a woman I met at a recent opening. She asked for a portrait of her family. When it is finished, Steemians will be the first to see it. I do not like painting to specifications. Subjectivity is the bane of commissions. I told my patron that if she doesn’t care for it, then she’s not contracted to pay me. I don’t want for someone not to want me. Money is the bane of human happiness.
So, just in case she passes up 40 to 50 hours of my creative labor, do any of you have a family that looks like this?

At 9:00 a.m. my friend Mike picked me up to work. He is gallery director at the local university. This week he’s been burdened with too many tasks and asked for my help. I’ve worked for him before and always request that I get paid in U.S. silver dollars. (See older post about it.) That’s pre-1964 mints, which are 90% silver, and cost between $25 - $35 in pawn shops and on eBay. It’s fun to work for coins. I get two for a full day, and one for a half.

For a couple hours in the morning we worked in the college President’s house. She has recently retired after 20 years, and staff are preparing the residence for the incoming President. Mike and I wrapped the historic paintings, and photographs and stored them in a safe room.

Then we went to his storage facility where the college art treasures are kept. My job was to take the hanging hardware off framed works from a recently acquired watercolor collection and carefully stack them upright on the shelves.

I sneaked a picture of a corner of the room. Check out the Alex Katz.

We had a late lunch and then Mike drove me back home. He paid me the silver dollar on top of a cold beer—He tried to give me two, but I protested that I got too much pleasure out of the work. Save the other coin for the next time.

Mike’s day was just beginning. He had to go back to the gallery and prepare for the student juried art exhibition opening in a few hours. But first Mike, finish your beer.

After he left I went back into the studio for the rest of the afternoon. Then I walked to Rose’s office and met up with her to go to the exhibition. She likes to take photos of anything campus-related. She’s the Marketing Director, and lives this college in so many ways. They should pay her double.

I like the bird cage.

The show was well attended, which is always nice to see, even in a pandemic. Mike hates these things. So much society, and then to have to give a speech... Argh! Just give me my box of paints and a daily dose of sufficient solitude. I could never do what Mike does. There aren’t enough silver dollars in the cubbyholes of a thousand misers.

After the exhibition Mike came back to our house for a Rose and the Amateurs Friday night practice. He invited some of our friends from the gallery show.

A very long day for Mike. A silver dollar day for me!

Thanks for tagging along!

Sweet Virginia by The Rolling Stones: