My first job, and this really defines me as a Montrealer, was working the cash at Warshaw. That was where I first met Stanley, as a customer there. Memories of that time make me smile now, I was so idyllic, doing Liberal Arts at Dawson, determined to be an anthropologist (which I am not) and just being excited in the sense that my 'real life' was beginning.
Another cashier introduced me to Stanley, and we would chat as he passed by the cash. Once I learnt he was a 'real artist', I think I was sort of smitten with him. Traveller, wise man, philosopher . . . artist. The whole package, the real thing. We talked, or rather, I listened. He was the first person I met who talked and thought ideas out, things I was reading in my class textbooks taken off paper and applied to today, yesterday, throughout human history. Though I can't remember word for word our conversations, I know I learnt from him that beauty isn't beautiful, that art is communication and that humans need to be more forgiving and accepting of ourselves. Look closer. Think. Feel.
I got to see his studio and he gifted me with two prints, Primal Moment and Departure. They are uncannily representative of me, when I really look at them now I am amazed at Stanley's insight. Departure especially, showing a man leaving the city, ill with pollution and smog which we can see hovering in the background . . . blocking out the view of the stars above.
This very spring I left the city for good, and as I was unpacking, to find Departure mirroring my action back at me as I hung it on the wall . . . wow. I know I told Stanley about my growing up in the countryside, weekends and summers spent on my grandparents' forested land just on the other side of the Ontario border, and yes I wore my love of nature on my sleeve , but the gift of that print has been almost prophetic. It makes me so happy to see Departure in my new home.
"Truly a lady with a beautiful soul" Stanley signed all his gifts to me, and how lucky was I to have had his influence at the right time in my life.
Now when I see a painting and think "A-ha", hear an opera and think "Yes!" and see a sculpture and know I understand - that ability to appreciate art is in part a gift from Stanley too.
The last time I saw Stanley Lewis, it was a summer night and he was standing behind the gates leading to his studio. The street was packed, and I raised my hand to say hi, but he didn't see. He was looking out at the people passing; only I guess he wasn't seeing anyone at all.
Jan Dutkowsky
Another cashier introduced me to Stanley, and we would chat as he passed by the cash. Once I learnt he was a 'real artist', I think I was sort of smitten with him. Traveller, wise man, philosopher . . . artist. The whole package, the real thing. We talked, or rather, I listened. He was the first person I met who talked and thought ideas out, things I was reading in my class textbooks taken off paper and applied to today, yesterday, throughout human history. Though I can't remember word for word our conversations, I know I learnt from him that beauty isn't beautiful, that art is communication and that humans need to be more forgiving and accepting of ourselves. Look closer. Think. Feel.
I got to see his studio and he gifted me with two prints, Primal Moment and Departure. They are uncannily representative of me, when I really look at them now I am amazed at Stanley's insight. Departure especially, showing a man leaving the city, ill with pollution and smog which we can see hovering in the background . . . blocking out the view of the stars above.
This very spring I left the city for good, and as I was unpacking, to find Departure mirroring my action back at me as I hung it on the wall . . . wow. I know I told Stanley about my growing up in the countryside, weekends and summers spent on my grandparents' forested land just on the other side of the Ontario border, and yes I wore my love of nature on my sleeve , but the gift of that print has been almost prophetic. It makes me so happy to see Departure in my new home.
"Truly a lady with a beautiful soul" Stanley signed all his gifts to me, and how lucky was I to have had his influence at the right time in my life.
Now when I see a painting and think "A-ha", hear an opera and think "Yes!" and see a sculpture and know I understand - that ability to appreciate art is in part a gift from Stanley too.
The last time I saw Stanley Lewis, it was a summer night and he was standing behind the gates leading to his studio. The street was packed, and I raised my hand to say hi, but he didn't see. He was looking out at the people passing; only I guess he wasn't seeing anyone at all.
Jan Dutkowsky
