In an era when the discussion of more than one parallel universe rocks the best seller lists, and social interaction through technology is defining a voyeur society, Sonoma artist Don Williams fits right in. He travels in time and is fascinated by reality detail.
But does it occur to this 60-something, Midwesterner with the old-school work ethic that his art has modern-day relevancy? Probably not. He simply does what he does, day in and day out, no matter what.
His forte is to digitally capture a split-second image, revisit it hours or even years later, and, over a period of weeks, bring that same nanospec of time to life on paper with chalk.
Consumed by the play of light and nature’s textures, William’s subjects are of the mundane variety. And while a decade ago patrons might have been attracted to the eerie, lonely quality of his work, today it incites contemporary anticipation. In a security monitor, web-cam world, the question of William’s full-frontal work now begs: Who is about to enter? What just happened? Where did everybody go? The intimacy of detail and the capturing of a fleeting moment make his work as timeless as ever.
“I come in here, punch the time clock and start hammering out the detail,” says the modest Williams, who describes himself as shy. In a back yard studio more suited to a dad’s workshop than an artist’s sanctuary where precision is king and detail matters, the lanky, affable guy delves into the lonely task of creating.
“All my subject matter comes from my daily environment – just pretty much local stuff,” says Williams. “The backyard, my street, the school next door; things I see around town. I have a slow eye. It takes me awhile to see, to know what I want.”
To find what he wants, Williams snaps hundreds of slides hoping for one that has just the right composition, light and emotion to sustain him through his arduous process. He has drawers full of slides, in no particular order, that he visits and revisits, and portfolio binders where yesterday’s accomplishment shares a page with a completed work from years ago. There is no straight timeline documenting his work, there is no straight progression from era to era. Randomly, he decides what’s next.
Even with his subjects at his fingertips, Williams says everyday images are hard to come by.
“It all has to work compositionally,” he says. “When I see the slide I want, I project it and pencil it in. It is at the beginning that I make decisions about sense of space, the focal point of the picture, reflections and proportions. But I can make changes along the way. Pastel is good for that. You can get rid of things easily.”
In his artist’s lair, a makeshift, mini light table is attached haphazardly to a studio wall next to a simple piece of tacked-up heavy paper that is Williams’ easel. A magnifying eyepiece held to the table with masking tape is his only other tool of the trade.
“It serves its purpose. I rigged it up for the detail,” says the artist son of an artistic family. “There are genetics involved, definitely. My mother studied art in college and always displayed art in the house. My older brother was the prodigy and I always wanted to copy him, but it was tougher for me. I didn’t really show any ability until high school. Then I started getting attention, and it reinforced my interest.”
A scholarship to the Brooklyn Museum Art School, a degree in Fine Arts from the University of Nebraska, and a Masters from Tulane University in New Orleans paved the way to the prize. A position teaching art at the University of Southwestern Louisiana.
“I was miserable,” says Williams, harking back to a time when his life’s destiny took a left turn towards California. “I wasn’t comfortable teaching and I hated where I lived.”
He moved to San Francisco and taught Advanced Painting at the Academy of Art. Though still experimenting with his own style and medium, by the mid-’70s, Williams was determined his creativity was not to be bound to a classroom. He moved to Sonoma for cheaper rent, planted Northern California roots and found a passion for pastels.
His “paint” is pastel sticks of all different sizes, his “brush,” fingers and the palm of his hand. Smudge and blend, highlight and lowlight. For super straight lines, an architect’s ruler and a thin point.
“I’m not making judgments every 10 minutes about how the picture is going,” says Williams. “Progress is slow, changes are subtle. I’m not facing horrendous problems all the time like artists that work spontaneously.”
And that’s why, he says, he can be disciplined to work everyday.
“If I frequently faced a blank canvas, my mental state at the time would have more effect on what I’m doing.”
So there he stands. With talk radio his only companion and a clean, damp towel at his side, the former college art teacher proceeds. Just as he did yesterday and the day before that.
Don Williams has been honored with over 30, one-man shows in many galleries and museums including the M.H.
De Young Museum in San Francisco, the San Jose Museum of Art, and the Richmond Art Center. Williams’ work
can be seen, (a show is scheduled in October) at the Jenkins Johnson Gallery at 464 Sutter Street, San Francisco 415-677-0770.
jenkinsjohnsongallery.com, or on his website:
artistdonwilliams.com. Studio visits are welcomed by appointment. To arrange, contact Williams at
acekat@comcast.net, 707-996-0205.
