I own a painting by Charles Ladson. He’s a true son of the
South and three years ago, when my family took on a southern winter address, I
felt I needed to live with part of that heritage.
I found Ladson’s work at one of those “too slick to really
like” galleries in Asheville which itself has become too trendy to be real.
Asheville car bumper stickers read “If you’re too weird for Asheville, you’re
just too weird!” But that’s not true exactly because while there are some
really cool people who live there, others are simply trying too hard. Scratch
the surface and they’re Republicans. I never did see Andie McDowell who’s
supposed to live there running errands in her SUV wearing no makeup and blue
jeans even though I stood on a few street corners looking but I did find
Charles Ladson’s paintings.
The painting I bought shows a negro male half-figure sitting
under an umbrella - except that it’s not
clear if the figure has legs so I’m not sure “sitting” is the correct
descriptive – peering out across the landscape.
The landscape itself has lots of strange shapes and doodles that could
be almost anything and if anyone is given to making up stories to accompany
strange paintings, Ladson is your guy!
Even if you’re not, his use of color and shape and texture is beautiful
and I like them (the newest ones) even better after learning that his day job
in Macon, Georgia, is restoring old houses.
There’s a broad hint of geometry and rusticity in these works. I’ve
fallen in love with nearly anything recycled and I like that he works those
elements into his imagery.
Ladson has a one-man show currently on view at that
too-slick-gallery and they kindly mailed a catalog to me. Lovely photographs
are spread throughout and a couple of very learned (meaning: obscure artspeak)
essays “explaining Ladson’s motivation, etc.” I have come to truly hate such
nonsense. These things are written to
impress…..? The rest of us can feel further alienated from work that should be
appreciated from the gut.
Ladson himself writes “My work is a collection of mostly bad
ideas…the paintings ramble along in all directions then they arrive. People see
what they want…”
Amen, brother.
