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Carroll Cloar: In His Studio Booksigning

In the last interview he gave before his death in 1993 at age 90, Carroll Cloar shared a childhood memory with WMC’s Joe Birch. The celebrated painter and longtime professor at the Memphis College of Art talked about a pet chicken that ate out of his hand and perched on his shoulder until one terrible night when it accidentally ended up on the dinner table. Cloar says he was devastated and hid under his family’s house for hours crying and swearing he’d never love anything as much as he loved that bird. That wasn’t true, of course, as he later admitted: “I recovered and loved three women and three cats in my lifetime. Two women left and the three cats died, but the third woman has been here 20 years.” The third woman, his wife Pat Cloar, will visit David Lusk Gallery Saturday, December 6th, to sign copies of a new book produced by the Art Museum at the University of Memphis (AMUM) titled Carroll Cloar: In His Studio.

Cloar was a complicated artist from Earle, Arkansas, who employed realism, surrealism, magical realism, expressionism, and something like pointillism, often all at once.

In 2013, to celebrate the artist’s centennial, several regional museums teamed up for a multi-exhibit event called “The Summer of Cloar.” The most personal and surprising of these shows was produced by AMUM, where recordings of the artist’s voice played near the reassembled, newspaper-collaged walls of the artist’s studio. Carroll Cloar: In His Studio juxtaposes the artist’s words with drawings, photographs, and images lifted from the studio, documenting the AMUM show, which also showcased a seldom-seen group of mid-20th-century lithographs.

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The Shelby Foote Estate Sale – Empty Rooms Now

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I made a return visit to Shelby Foote‘s former home on East Parkway today, just to see what wonderful treasures were still left for the taking.

Well, not much. An original Carroll Cloar oil painting, whose title now escapes me, was still available (a bargain at $45,000) along with a somewhat battered authentic “Indian Wars” sword ($750), a few pieces of furniture (a bed, some tables), some celluloid bridge markers ($65 each), and a box of old postcards and letters (none of them, as far as I could see, relating to Memphis).

Most of the glass-topped boxes containing the butterfly collections were still for sale on Monday, though priced at $195 to $265, so you had to really like butterflies if you wanted to take these home. (I have to admit, these really were magnificent butterflies.)

Just about the only books left were an 18-volume set of James Branch Cabell ($195).

Even so, it was certainly a treat to wander through the interesting old house, which is constructed inside and out in a rambling Tudor style, with uneven brickwork, tile floors, massive rough-hewn beams, hand-carved mantels, and curious creatures (is it a deer or a dog?) carved into the plaster door moldings here and there.

The most fascinating part of the house, to me, was Foote’s former study, a vaulted room with a massive brick fireplace. I had seen plenty of images of him sitting at a low desk, ink pen in hand, with a mosaic of photos and letters neatly pinned to the wall behind him. Here’s the same desk (above) as it appeared on Monday afternoon, looking rather forlorn and empty, with just sun-faded outlines showing where he had mounted his things to the wall. Rather depressing, yes.

PHOTO BY GREG AKERS