Coincidence

Today marks the birthday of two American artists, one recognized by almost anyone, the other an obscure introvert who remains almost unknown outside a small but growing circle of admirers. Both were filled with creative genius.

George Gershwin was born in New York in 1898. He went on to become perhaps the most beloved American composer through his many composition for the musical stage, the concert hall, and what has become known as the Great American Songbook. Gershwin's appeal comes, in part, from his colorful and lively incorporation of jazz motifs in all his music. He died in 1937 with what could only be called a wonderful career ahead of him. I often think what he could have brought to us had he lived.

The second artist, Walter Inglis Anderson, was born on September 29, 1903 in New Orleans. After training at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in the mid-1920s, he spent most of his career associated with Shearwater Pottery, a family enterprise founded in Ocean Springs, Mississippi. Though deeply troubled with mental illness for much of his life, he produced thousands of vivid works of art searching to celebrate the unity of human existence with nature. I often describe his work as painted illustrations that play freely with figure and ground and the positives and negatives of visual perception. His realizations of nature explode in the mind's eye. Observing Anderson is a meditative experience.

If I had to choose two personal favorites among American artists, I would choose Gershwin and Anderson. My mother and father enjoyed his music and listened to his work on the radio and records, and later, on television. I discovered Anderson on my own in the 1970s during the dedication of an Ocean Springs visitor center that featured architectural elements incorporating his motifs as well as the display of several of his nature paintings. Studying these artists came much later in my life and, in the last five years, that study led to a startling revelation: I share a birthday with them.

George, Walter and OTR, a coincidence made somewhere in the stars beyond time. I don't want to attempt an explanation. And there's no delusion here; OTR will never approach their genius. Not sure I'd want to. I'll simply leave it at that and listen and observe the greatness knowing that we share a quiet and inconsequential commonality.

Later this week after the Voyage Of Discovery returns to Atlanta, I'll post a bit more about the artists and post some examples of their work.