Tag: Dolph Smith

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Art Art Feature

“A Requiem for King”

Ernest Withers’ photographs illustrating Memphis in 1968. (Photo: Abigail Morici)

Last month, to honor the 55th anniversary of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., the National Civil Rights Museum unveiled “Waddell, Withers, & Smith: A Requiem for King,” an exhibition highlighting three Memphis-based artists whose work responded to King’s assassination and the Civil Rights Movement: self-taught sculptor James Waddell Jr., photojournalist Ernest Withers, and multimedia artist Dolph Smith.

“It goes to show the levels of Dr. King and how many people he impacted,” NCRM associate curator Ryan Jones says of the exhibit. “He didn’t just impact people who were civil rights leaders and human rights activists; he impacted people who were artists. And so this goes to show what he meant as a man and that people here in this great community of Memphis have channeled and responded to something that has been a dark cloud over the city in the past 55 years. Dr. King impacted the hearts and minds of so many citizens.”

Each of the three artists were born and raised in Memphis, Jones says, and all served in the military, with their respective services being turning points in their artistic careers. Withers, a World War II veteran, learned his craft at the Army School of Photography. He would then go on to photograph some of the most iconic moments of the Civil Rights Movement, including King’s fateful visit to Memphis, the priceless images for which line the exhibition’s walls.

“We can’t tell the story of the modern Civil Rights Movement without the role of photography,” Jones says, and truly, Withers played one of the most significant roles in documenting that history, capturing approximately 1.8 million photographs before his death at 85 years old in 2007.

At the same time Withers was documenting King’s Memphis visit and the aftermath of his assassination, James Waddell (who happened to later be photographed by Withers) was serving in the Vietnam War and didn’t learn what had happened in Memphis until weeks later. For Waddell and his family, King’s death marked a period of pain and grief — “His relatives compared the assassination to a death in the family,” reads the exhibit’s wall text.

“[Sculpture] was his way of reacting to the tragedy that had happened,” Jones says. “He said that living in Memphis and being a native Memphian and not doing the work would be something he would never be able to get over.” So when he returned home, Waddell channeled this grief in the work now on display — an aluminum-cast bust of King and Mountaintop Vision, a bronze statue of King kneeling on a mountaintop with an open Bible. “It shows he’s humbling himself to God,” Waddell said of the sculpture in a 1986 interview in The Commercial Appeal with Anthony Hicks. 

James Waddell’s Mountaintop Vision (Photo: Abigail Morici)

Initially, as the 1986 article reveals, Waddell planned to create an eight-foot version of Mountaintop Vision as “the city’s first statue of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.” “The time is right, because Memphis is beginning to voice an opinion that there is a need for a statue,” Waddell told The Commercial Appeal. “This will be a tool for understanding.”

Waddell, who has since passed, said he hoped “to see the finished piece placed at the proposed Lorraine Motel Civil Rights Museum, Clayborn Temple, or in Martin Luther King Jr. Riverside Park.” Though that eight-foot version never came to fruition, at long last, the smaller version of Waddell’s Mountaintop Vision can be seen not only in a public display for the first time, but also at the National Civil Rights Museum as he once had envisioned. 

Dolph Smith’s The Veil of the Temple Was Rent in Two (Photo: Abigail Morici)

Meanwhile, Dolph Smith, who had long since returned home from the Vietnam War, was in Memphis the night of King’s assassination. As Memphis was set ablaze that night, he and his family stood on the roof of their home, watching the smoke rise around them. He vowed to never forget that date — April 4, 1968. In his personal calendar for that day, he wrote, “If this has happened in Memphis, then now I know it can happen anywhere. It is so hard to believe a man’s basic instinct is to be good.”

In response to what he called “an unspeakable tragedy” and the public uprising that arose from it, Smith took to the canvas. For one piece on display at the museum, titled The Veil of the Temple Was Rent in Two, the artist ripped an American flag, placing photographs of the Civil Rights Movement in between its tears, as Jones says, “to show the extreme divisiveness that the assassination caused.”

In all, Jones hopes the exhibit will show the reach of King’s legacy extending beyond April 4, 1968, all the way to the present day. In one of the videos projected on the exhibition’s walls, Smith, now at 89 years old, speaks on the importance of witnessing artwork like the pieces on display. “If you make something and it just sits there, it’s unfinished,” Smith says. To him — a painter, bookmaker, and educator — in order for a work of art to be “finished,” it has to be shared, for the mission of the artist is not simply to create but to spark conversation, to encourage self-reflection, and in cases like that of Withers, Waddell, and Smith, to activate progress.

“Waddell, Withers, & Smith: A Requiem for King” is on display at the National Civil Rights Museum through August 28th.

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We Recommend We Saw You

“Works of Heart” Moves Online This Year

Among the artists in ‘Works of Heart’ is Alex Paulus, who contributed his ‘Just Out of Sniffing Range,’ an acrylic on wood.

I have fond memories of a jam-packed Memphis College of Art with people crowding around and bidding on every size and shape of  “valentine” imaginable.

That won’t be the scene this year. Fundraisers have gone the way of the dinosaur — at least for now. But you gotta have heart. So take heart. “Works of Heart” will take place, but this year’s event is virtual.

The Memphis Child Advocacy fundraiser, which will celebrate its 29th anniversary, will be held February 7th through 14th. It will feature heart-themed art by more than 100 artists. Bidders will go online to try to snag their heart’s delight.

Among the artists contributing work are Dolph Smith, NJ Woods, Quantavious Worship a.k.a. Toonky Berry, Veda Reed, and Alex Paulus.

For John McIntire’s ‘Cave Stone,’ the artist traded a banjo for the stone, found in Middle Tennessee, that was transformed into this beautiful sculpture.

“We knew the event was going on no matter what and the committee had a lot of discussion about what that was going to look like,” says Child Advocacy Center communications and grants manager Beryl Wight. “Even thought about postponing it. And we just settled on that we’re going to go head and do it virtually this year ‘cause it is a Valentine’s event.”

Artists are traditionally given a 12-inch wooden heart to use as their inspiration, but they don’t have to use it. Works in various shapes include painting, photography, jewelry, and mixed media.

This year’s event will feature the Big Heart Lounge, but it also will be virtual. Those who purchase a Big Heart Lounge ticket will receive exclusive admission to a live, virtual preview of the artwork hosted by Joe Birch from 6 to 7 p.m. on February 6th. They also will receive a valentine box that includes a bottle of wine and other goodies, a yard sign, an event T-shirt, and first bids on all artwork. Big Heart Lounge tickets are $200.

Last year’s event, which was held February 15th at Memphis College of Art, was one of the last big fundraisers before the COVID pandemic shut everything down. That event, which featured 111 hearts and drew 450 guests, was a huge success. They raised a record-breaking $98,000, Wight says.

Virginia Stallworth is executive director of the Memphis Child Advocacy Center.

A Works of Heart link will be posted closer to the date, but those interested in purchasing tickets to the Big Heart Lounge or want other information can go to memphiscac.org/worksofheart.

Napapon Santirojprapai (aka Pam Santi) shows ‘Zen Heart,’ a wooden heart with wire and acrylic paint.

Ken Woodmansee’s ‘Funnel of Love’ is, in the artist’s own words, “A reminder of the power of love, especially during times of chaos, crisis, and uncertainty.’

Connie Hendrix’s ‘Suppression’ is about the many forms of suppression experienced during the historical year of 2020.

David Simmons ‘Hendrix: Star Spangled Banner’ is No. 18 in a series represents a “salute to democracy.” It recalls the definitive rendition of ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’ as performed by Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock in 1969 — a “powerful dawn to anew day in America.”

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Art Art Feature

“Take Note” at MCA

It was bittersweet last Friday at the Memphis College of Art. There was the sort of exuberance that attends opening receptions for exhibitions, but there was also melancholy as suggested by the show’s title: “Take Note: The Final Faculty Biennial Exhibition.”

A robust presentation of artwork by current faculty and professors emeriti is on display through March 17th. Faculty exhibitions put on display the pieces by those who teach, or, as professor emeritus Tom Lee puts it, to show the students that they really can do it.

But MCA is closing its doors next year and there won’t be any more faculty shows. Laura Hine, the college’s president, says wistfully that maybe someone will organize the school’s long-running Horn Island show, Holiday Bazaar, and faculty exhibitions in the post-MCA future. “You can’t stop artists,” she says.

Heather F. Wetzel with her 2012 work ‘Mapping|Mending|Missing Memory’

“When I started working here I’d walk through the doors and think ‘My God, this is so joyful.’ Everything is tinged by the closure now, but for me tonight, I’ve talked with three artists who went to school here and are now teachers. I take heart that these people are going out and teaching another generation of kids. That’s the happy part for me.”

Dolph Smith started attending what was then the Memphis Academy of Art on Adams Street in 1957. He went on to teach there and retired in the 1990s, but still manages to be there in one capacity or another, as artist and inspiration. But on this night, he steps away, saying, “I’m going to burst out sobbing.”

His work at this final faculty show is Tennarkippi Penthouse, a 2005 sculpture. It shares space on the landing between floors in MCA’s main exhibition area with Lee’s 2019 witty and sly installation Fin de Skirt, which connects with a “bouquet” on another wall. Lee’s emeriti status was awarded at last May’s commencement. Looking back at previous faculty shows, he says, “It’s all the same thing that I’ve been doing since time began in one way or another. It just looks a lot different than what I was doing 30 years ago. But it’s pretty much the same. That’s not a real good answer, is it?”

with their works: Tennarkippi Penthouse, 2005 and Fin de Skirt, 2019

He’s in the mood to say goodbye. “The bouquet that’s kind of dead and falling apart is pretty obvious and pretty funny, too,” he says of one part of his installation. “The other is the skirt that covers everything. This place has always had a lot more female energy in it and so does the artwork because, a) they’re smarter, and b) because they actually feel life when it’s happening and we try to ignore it, so it’s an image of that. Plus a lot of other kind of hidden things that refer to specific people, most of whom I admire and who I’ve learned a lot from while I was here, and a few kind of digs that nobody’s ever gonna get. Plus I just like the word ‘skirt.'”

Jean Holmgren’s digital illustrations are, she says, a bit of a sea change. “I fought digital tooth and nail when computers came out, saying ‘that’s not real art!’ and I still have problems with that most of the time,” she says. “But I’m loving my iPad Pro — it’s so fast and easy and forgiving, and it’s never done. You can always go back and tweak.” One of her works at the exhibition is a 2019 homage to IKEA instructions, an assembly of an impossible machine with impossible directions, titled Some Assembly Required.

Heather F. Wetzel, the head of MCA’s photo area, started teaching at the college in the fall of 2017. Weeks later, it was announced that the institution would close. “It was sad and disappointing to find that out,” she says. But also: “It’s a wonderful place, and I’ve gotten a taste of it.” Even through her sadness at what will be her abbreviated time at MCA, she still says, “I’m happy and honored to be part of this.”

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Art Art Feature

“By the Book: A Tribute to Dolph Smith” at the Brooks.

Veteran artist Dolph Smith constructs books from scratch. His son, Ben Smith, chef/owner of Tsunami restaurant, constructs culinary dishes from scratch.

Their creations are similar.

“He can make the most elaborate scallop dish and present it beautifully and all,” Dolph says. “But it’s not done. It’s not complete until you devour it.”

The pages in most of Dolph’s books are blank. “I hope whoever would get them would finish them for me by using them. In any way.”

Examples of Dolph’s one-of-a-kind artists books are featured in “By the Book: A Tribute to Dolph Smith,” which is on view through November 26th at Memphis Brooks Museum of Art. Also included in the show curated by Marina Pacini are books made by 11 artists Dolph has worked with.

Dolph, 84, who taught drawing and painting for 30 years at Memphis College of Art, has made at least 100 books. “I started out on watercolor on paper. And then I learned to make paper. And then paper becomes books. So, it’s all tied together.”

Smith’s Buoyk

Constructing books is “moving away from that craft cloud that hangs over things like that,” Dolph says. “It’s moving away from it being a craft to really being an art form. And I support that. It’s an object. It’s interactive. You’re drawn to use it rather than just stare at it. And it has moving parts. You pick up a book with 30 pages. I see that as 30 moving parts.”

Dolph has used paper he’s made to construct his books, but he usually buys “archival” (designed not to deteriorate or yellow over time) paper from a German mill.

He never knows what size or shape the book will be until he begins folding the paper. “You fold it until it tells you what size to make the book. You don’t tell it what to do.”

Dolph makes several sections or “signatures” of pages, which he then sews onto cloth tapes before adding the book cover.

He uses archival thread. “It’s waxed so you can sew and it moves nicely through the pages. The sewing is a perfect example of that old saw we have about form meeting function. Because it’s a beautiful pattern of thread, and yet it holds the book together. So, that’s beauty holding the book together.”

Dolph constantly makes books. “I finish one, and I start another. Some of them take up to a week ’cause I have to think it out. You know, making a book is like reading a book. You begin with the paper telling you what size it’s to be. And then you improvise out of that. And you begin a conversation with the book.”

He taught himself how to make books. “If I had gone to England to learn to be a professional book binder I would have been there seven years, and I would have learned to build a book completely.”

Smith’s ladder-themed Highques

Dolph makes all types of books, including some he uses. “I make my date book. I make my to-do list book. I always carry a handmade book.”

And, he says, “I make crazy books. Ladders are uplifting to me, so I have a book in there that’s lifted up on ladders. It’s an uplifting book.'”

Inside the book are haikus, but, in keeping with the ladder theme, Dolph calls them “highques.”

Dolph also makes books for friends. Describing one of those gifts, he says, “I did a glass cover in the shape of a bottle. And I etched three marks on it to show it was liquor.”

He collected “a lot of hair from our dog,” which he added to the book. He titled it Hair of the Dog.

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Art Exhibit M

See the Pictures: David Bowie Visits Memphis College of Art

David Bowie played a couple concerts in Memphis back in the early 1970s, during his Ziggy Stardust and Aladdin Sane days. In February of 1973, Bowie played (as Ziggy) alongside his band, the Spiders From Mars. The eyebrowless rocker then hung around town for another day and paid an impromptu visit to Memphis College of Art, where he met longtime teacher and painter Dolph Smith. 

Smith engineered the meeting by contacting Cherry Vanilla, Bowie’s PR person. The artist presented Bowie with a painting inspired by the song “Major Tom.” It shows a vividly-colored landscape and two paper airplanes — a longtime motif in Smith’s work. 

Smith, now in his eighties, remembers Bowie as unpretentious: “You know performers have a stage presence,” Smith remembered. “I found he had a modest person to person presence. No pretense… just so easy to be with that night.” 

The entire incident is remembered by local film auteur and lay historian Mike Mccarthy in two essays about the meeting, and about Dolph Smith. The photos below are all by Cherry Vanilla. 

Dolph Smith

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Art Art Feature

Dolph Smith’s Parting Shots at the Cotton Museum

There’s an anecdote about two writers, Hal and Al, who sit down to discuss their work. Hal pulls out a 1,500-page novel and hands it to Al, who flips through it and says, “Geez, Hal, this looks good, but it sure is long.” “Well,” responds Hal, “I didn’t have time to write something short!”

Point being, of course, that it is harder to make something good and simple than to make something good and complex. Longtime Memphis artist and educator Dolph Smith’s most recent show at the Cotton Museum is a testament to this idea. The exhibition — called “Parting Shots” because it is also (supposedly) Smith’s final show — features paintings, drawings, and sculptures that Smith pares down into their simplest gestures.

Rosie’s Window, part of Dolph Smith’s “Parting Shots” exhibit

Smith, who spent his teaching career at Memphis College of Art, is best known for his deeply hued watercolor paintings of Southern barns. Smith’s barns are myth-steeped and romantic without being wistful. The artist and craftsman’s work has a dark incisiveness that places his simple landscapes somewhere outside the literal. It is hard to see his barns, pitched under bleeding skies, without also seeing their hollowness. The structures are an empty point of contact with a big, and not necessarily kind, beyond.

“If you look at any one of these paintings,” Smith says, “you’ll see that watercolor is an act of nature. I could never paint these skies, but if you have water and you put a color on it, it will move. As it moves, it takes color with it. It will settle into the interstices of the paper. I collaborate with nature.”

“Parting Shots” contains some works from Smith’s early canon, as well as much more recent sculptural pieces. After his 1970s success as a painter, Smith says he entered a period where he felt as if he were artistically repeating himself. In response to this, he became a paper maker. “When you begin to build up surfaces,” says Smith about this process, “you feel like something is coming out to join you in the real world.”

Layered paper works such as Will We Know What’s Gone Before feel less like they are built to join us in the real world as they are to draw us more effectively into a removed and transcendent space. In the piece, graphite-coated handmade paper is sculpted to form a pile of sunken-looking detritus. A paper ladder grows out of the graphite detritus and morphs into a brightened, wooden version of itself — a version that is, once again, disrupted by the graphite toward the top of the work. Several other wooden ladders also appear, and disappear, near the piece’s center.

Will We Know What’s Gone Before takes place in a dream where, perhaps, the viewer climbs an endless ladder out of a silo, a factory, a well — and mid-climb, is caught in a strange, bright light. This dream-logic is echoed in a similarly constructed work, The Pearl Divers of Tennarkippi, in which a wooden boat sails over the cast-paper remnants of a wooden house. The work recalls sunken ghost towns or a hurricane-flooded gulf. The pearls, if they are there, remain hidden.  

Smith’s works are not about place, though the works bear the signs of a storied South. Rather, pieces such as Parting Shot V: Leaving the Nest and Parting Shot III: Nerissa Knotgrass leaves for new ground center around a sense of displacement — a doubleness or tripleness of place, realized through small frames and images that he places throughout the work.

Smith’s work is not elaborate. It doesn’t need to be. He focuses on simple moments of paradox that, though deeply complex, need little elaboration to be understood.