Isn’t that… stes. e Mirror on ichard r NewMaine York artist Richard Estes turns his exacting style on…us. axi (1999, 36: x 66”, oil on canvas) by by DanIel Kany t Water 4 2 p o r t l a n d monthly magazine lor. f ren o hoto: p . K or y W e n h Gallery, G arlborou m stes, courtesy of e ichard r oundation, 2002.13. © f rosby Kemper c nid and e issouri, Gift of the m ity, c rt, Kansas a ainter Richard Estes has a place ly man with a warm twinkle in his eyes that it is beautifully decorated, the house is more ontemporary c already secured in history accompanies his easy smile. He is not par- defined by its spatial elegance than by the books as the leading proponent ticularly forthcoming about his work. This objects within it. of painterly photorealism–one is not because he is shy or secretive–in fact, The ostensible subject of our conversa- useum of m of the last true “isms” in art and he’s quite open and direct about his content tion is his Maine paintings, even though Pa movement that changed the way we un- and techniques–but rather because, like so his artistic accomplishment was built on his derstand realism: While “realism” had been many accomplished painters, he relies more paintings of New York. So we begin there. gauged by accuracy and verisimilitude, its on his eye and his sensibilities than on ex- I ask Estes why his Paris Street Scene standard is now the photograph. plainable theories or preset ideas. looks more like a unified space, while the On a visit with Estes at his home and stu- Estes’s home is one of Fred Savage’s ar- buildings in his New York City paintings ollection of the Kemper c dio in Northeast Harbor, I discover a friend- chitecturally remarkable “cottages.” While (like Jone’s Diner) feel individualized and S e p t e m b e r 2 0 1 5 4 3 Isn’t that… almost incongruently distinct from each other. I expect a discussion about “place” that will encompass his Maine paintings, but Estes turns our talk to a subject about which he is both passionate and deeply knowledgeable: architecture. “I guess deep down I am a frustrated ar- chitect,” he says. “I was accepted to study with Mies van der Rohe, but I returned from a trip abroad too late in the semester to at- tend IIT. But I wasn’t too late for The School of the Art Institute of Chicago, so I enrolled in art school (1952 to 1956). I trained to be a graphic artist, and after art school I worked as a commercial illustrator for ad agencies and magazines.” stes has two studios in his home. One is an airy and open rectangu- Estes tirelessly scrutinizes quotidien New York City moments, as in this tkts. Line, 38” x 61” , Elar space (which Estes astutely in- dicates was a later addition) bathed in the Are you still working on that painting of So there are just different kinds of paths and reflec- light of north-facing windows that reach Columbus Circle? tions in your Maine paintings? from the floor to the soaring ceiling. Above Yes. In fact, I am still working on all of these. Yes. [He points to an easel supporting a the mantel hangs a large square painting of [He points at the four smaller paintings.] highly finished–but incomplete–painting the Brooklyn Bridge Estes made specifical- They are for an upcoming show I have at of hills reflected in a Maine lake.] I want ly for that space (“that pipe with the hard Marlborough [Gallery in Manhattan]. Two more definition here [indicating a sunlit shadow in the front center,“ he explains, of them are Africa, but one is here–Acadia. passage of the far hills on the left side of “was the toughest challenge of the paint- the image], but I might keep this piece re- ing”) and he is quick to note the historic I thought there might be more reference materi- ally loose. I’m not sure. bridge’s many connections with Maine. The als around–photos and drawings–but I don’t see only studio accoutrement in the comfort- any, and your studios don’t seem to be set up So you wait until you know what your next step is? able room, however, is a freestanding ea- for that. Right. My big paintings can take a couple of sel on which sits an unfinished painting of After a certain point, all of my decisions are months. Patience is a big part of my work. Columbus Circle viewed from a subway en- based on what happens in the paintings. trance. Lined up on the floor are four small, Even from the start, getting the values right Are there things you paint that rely more on what horizontal landscapes. is important for me, and that’s why I often you have seen in other paintings than photos or do under-painting in acrylic [before finish- direct observation? ing with oil]. I can work out the values and Water feels forced if you try to get it exact- aniel Kany make changes far more quickly because the ly like a photo. So I do it freehand. It’s all in d acrylic dries in minutes. I don’t use source the gesture. Sometimes when I paint leaves, materials for the details. When I make deci- for example, I tie a few small brushes togeth- hoto by p ; sions about whether a piece is done, I don’t er. If you try to paint every leaf, it feels tense K or y compare it to anything. It just has to feel or fussy. W e right to me. n Is mark-making more important for you than Do you approach your Maine paintings differently accuracy? h Gallery, than your New York scenes? The gesture and the brushwork have to suc- G No. I make them the same way. ceed for one of my paintings to be finished. arlborou My works are not finished until I think it’s m What about the multiple perspective systems of a good painting. Some sit for months and New York? Your city paintings typically have two or some never make it out of my studio. three vanishing points. stes, courtesy That’s the way the city is. This is why I par- As I leave, I thank my gracious host for e ticularly like to paint Broadway. It cuts taking time out of his schedule to talk with ichard across the grid of streets and avenues. That me on a summer Sunday. He laughs at this. r © is why the Flatiron building appears so often “Well, I wouldn’t be in the studio today. op: Richard Estes relaxes in his studio in in my paintings. It was defined by these di- Never on a Sunday. I refuse to be a Sun- t Northeast Harbor on a recent Sunday. agonals and multiple perspectives. day painter.” n from 4 4 p o r t l a n d monthly magazine .