The Places That Made Me a Painter: Paintings and Drawings by David McCosh Karin Clarke Gallery, August, 2007

The Places That Made Me a Painter: Paintings and Drawings by David McCosh

August 2007

THIS EXHIBITION, the gallery’s fourth of the work of David McCosh, is as much about the man as it is about his work. I started with the idea of selecting paintings that showed how intensely McCosh responded to the unique character of the places he lived in—the landscapes that gave him, as he said, “an abundance of new material for observation.” I wanted to find works that evidenced as clearly as possible the thrilling, fresh point of view he realized through the close and careful observation that motivated his painting. What I found was a body of work that McCosh referred to as “something like an expanded notebook of firsthand experiences, recorded without much reworking.” What surprised me most was how personal this work felt and how much I learned about him as I studied it. Because I wanted to trace this theme though his entire career, the show became a retrospective. But given the personal nature of these pieces, it also takes on the character of an autobiography that speaks of McCosh throughout the ages of his life.

My comments here will be brief, because I really want to direct your attention to a remarkable piece of writing by McCosh that I found in my research. But first, consider if you will, the romantic expressionism of Dad’s Home in Ireland, the sweet feeling of home in Early Spring (fig. 1; page 1), the tender discovery of the colors of the desert in Landscape, New Mexico (painted on the trip when Anne and David were married), the probing analysis of San Miguel and Tree in Torremolinos (fig. 13; page 46), and the excitement of visual discovery in Along the Millrace (fig. 14; page 48), Cornwall Coast, and Ospidaletti. These pieces are more than the exercises of a master craftsman strutting his stuff. These are McCosh’s first-hand experiences of new places, laid down on paper for us to share.

Why did he paint this way, what was he trying to say, what does it all mean, and why should it interest us? The best explanation I’ve seen by McCosh himself of his intentions and purposes as a painter is in the writing that accompanies these comments, which I think is so exceptional that I’m presenting it in its entirety.

Proposal for a Sabbatical Leave David McCosh, 1953

Draft of a statement proposing a sabbatical leave from teaching duties at the University of Oregon

My project, which I hope to be able to do someday, in any case, is simply to remain where I am and try to paint the material around me.

I have been living and teaching in Eugene, Oregon, for eighteen years. During that time I have produced many paintings but always on the interrupted and semi-occasional basis that a teaching schedule and its interests allow. In 1949–50 I had a Sabbatical Leave which was spent in two localities—Gray’s Harbor, Washington, and in Mexico. The approach that developed out of necessity in both cases brought me closer to what I would like to be able to do with paintings and gave me some broad convictions about the significance of painting which I am anxious to put to a

Village, 1928 Watercolor on paper, 101/2 x141/4 inches Private Collection

test here in Oregon. An extended and uninterrupted period of times seems to be necessary.

The validity of a painting, as I have come to think of it, rests on its roots in experience. Perhaps the most significant painting is that which is motivated by concepts of visual reality. For myself, concepts come only after intensive searching and uninhibited observation.

I would like to feel that not only is the meaning of a painting of mine clear but that it furthermore could be stated unambiguously in words.

Both at the beach in Washington and in the desert highlands of Mexico, I started with drawings and paintings in oil and watercolor, which were as faithful to the observed material as I could make them. In both cases, I chose what seemed to me to be most characteristic elements and conditions in that they combined many qualities that seemed to me meaningful and expressible. Also the material suggested no other paintings to me.

Gradually, the concept of what I wanted to do clarified and I think my painting statements did too. Some of the paintings are quite frankly a statement of the appearance of a situation, while at the other extreme are some that are apparently without recognizable subject matter. Actually, this is a deception since I have to make an effort to remember whether a particular painting was done on the spot or from drawings and remembered sensations. The more the concept of the total character became clear to me, the more the form of the painting became a result. Still, I think it is true that while the work varies in many respects, including the way the paint is applied, the series from the coast are unified and distinct from the Mexican series.

A penetrating observer is the same person whether he is observing a painting or nature, and the quality of his observation does not change. It was a pleasant, and new, experience for me to have persons whose interest in painting was slight, respond to the meaning of the painting even though they still asked “what is it” in some cases. They didn’t ask “Why did you paint it,” which, to me, is a far more important question and one that the painting itself should answer.

It was also rewarding to realize that I had gotten away from the deadly attitude that attempts to supply something interesting to others and in place was trying to deal with something that sincerely interested me. It is my conviction that even though the sincere interest is focused on a modest personal discovery, the resulting statement will have a fascination for others in spite of incompleteness and groping handling.

What I propose to do is to pursue the character of this section of Western Oregon in the same fashion. Just what exact subject matter would be concentrated on will be discovered as the experience progresses. I am sure that I do not want to make it up. Whether it produces regional painting in the sense of having some subject matter trade-mark or being freakishly different is immaterial. Painting that I admire is always regional in a broad sense and autobiographical as well. Rather than try to escape reality, I would like to try to face it and let the consequences be determined by the experience.

The significance of my project rests on an affirmation of faith—that reality cannot be invented—that emotions must be genuine and that honest painting holds a unique position which no other activity or form can replace.

Note: It is not clear whether this draft was ever completed and the proposal submitted to the University. McCosh did not have a second sabbatical until 1958–59, which he used for travel and painting in Europe. He never did take a year off from teaching to simply paint in Oregon, as he proposed here.

Five Sailboats, n.d. Oil on paper, 133/4 x 16 inches McCosh Memorial Collection; MMC.0559

Figure 13. Tree in Torremolinos (Spain), 1958 Ink on paper, 11 x 14 inches McCosh Memorial Collection; MMC.0329

Olive Tree and Pink House, 1958 Watercolor on paper, 181/4 x 25 inches Collection of Susan Williams

On the Right-of-Way, 1930s Watercolor on paper, 13 x 19 inches Collection of Ethel Marks

Left Figure 14. Along the Millrace, n.d. Oil on paper, 151/4 x 20 inches Private Collection

Bridge over Millrace, n.d. Oil on paper, 16 x 201/8 inches McCosh Memorial Collection; MMC.0287