From "A Grieving Mother Safeguards Her Son’s Artistic Legacy/The troubled painter Matthew Wong’s star was on the rise when he died [by suicide] at 35. His mother, Monita Wong, is making sure his work can still be seen" (NYT)(gift link so you can see more of the mother's story, some of the son's paintings, and photos with the captions "Wong's paint tubes, stained sneakers and even the light switch were relocated from his studio" and "Monita Wong carried over the clutter to recreate her son’s studio in the headquarters of the Matthew Wong Foundation in Edmonton, Alberta").
Quote from an art dealer: "He was a very attractive, tall figure, very well spoken. It was very refreshing the way he talked about art in general and not of himself. He was very direct and clear. I had no idea he was depressed. I had no idea he was autistic."
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7 comments:
Self-taught painter influenced by van Gogh.
Two Wongs [insert pun here] ...
A pre-Mother's Day exercise: Imagine your mother memorializing you with a foundation in the manner of Monita Wong, with the equivalent of paint tubes, stained sneakers and a paint-spattered light switch.
You're not dead yet and maybe your mother has already pre-deceased you. This is an exercise to motivate you to think about your mother.
Perhaps whitewash would have been more celebratory of his passing.
I can't possibly imagine that. My Mom was tough as nails and raised her boys to be anti fragile. I couldn't possibly see her memorializing my '92 Dodge Ram Van filled with a plethora of hand digging tools, multimeters, submersible pumps, Teflon bailers, a photo ionization detector, soil and water sample containers, the list goes on and on. She would more likely focus her attentions even more on the grandkids I gave her.
When my big bro was flying helicopters in Vietnam, she drank and smoked more. I think it helped her maintain a stiff upper lip. I don't think she would have built a memorial to him if he didn't make it.. She was done with those habits by the time I was 35.
I think of my Mom every day. She taught me how to swim before I could walk, never babied or coddled me. Always had total confidence I could tackle any dangerous task I set my heart on. She was a Bobby Kennedy Democrat whose best friend was the staunchest Nixon supporter you could imagine. Half the people filling the house on Thanksgiving we're strays with no where else to go. She never took shit from anyone ever, but didn't hold grudges.
Yeah some people are just depressed and suicidal. Probably had bad brain chemistry. Thankfully, we gotten past voodoo freudism.
Fpr good reason you did not include art as a tag. Or even "art."
I don't recall how I was introduced to Matthew Wong's art. Probably reading an art blog or from some designer I worked with (in my working days). I was really taken by images of Wong's art and was wondering how I could manage to afford a piece when...I found out he had just recently killed himself. He would have been highly regarded beyond the regular art community, of which I am NOT a member. Every once in a while I'll run across a photographer or painter whose work stops me. Wong's stopped me for some reason.
It still bothers me that he took his own life, so young, so talented, and just at the point of his exploding in the art world.
I like that his mom is keeping the 'feel' of his studio alive, but...I wonder who will ever go on up to Edmonton to see it? Also found it interesting about the cardinal that came to light everyday outside the window of his friend, John Cheim. When my wife's dad died, there was a cardinal that came by outside of our kitchen window regularly. We hadn't noticed it before. And again, when my mom died, a cardinal was hanging around our house- years later in a different state.
Cardinals?
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