I had been working on a Natchez scene for a while and got it where I thought I wanted it. Then, after I returned to a New Orleans scene this month to better depict the bridge, I pulled out all the river paintings to look at them together. I always had reservations about the Natchez scene, so I started with a rework of the sky to better capture the mysterious atmosphere of that town. When I got that done, I still felt like the composition was somehow empty, and so on impulse, I sketched in two figures at the top of the landing, Derrick and Rip. It was Rip who afforded me the chance to paint the scene by inviting me to attend a ceremony in Natchez where Derrick would receive an award. We stayed at the wonderful Eidelweiss B&B, right above Natchez Under Hill.
Once I sketched them in, I wavered over whether the figures would be a good idea. As I came closer to their likenesses, that uncertainty faded away. I used a Mahl stick to steady my hand for the fine detail. The initial facial expressions were mask-like but in time I was able to capture some of their joy over receiving the award. All this was done with fine-tip brushes. Derrick is holding the award and Rip is holding the key to the structure which his construction company rebuilt.
After it was over I was happy with the result but I had this odd feeling from seeing that portion of the painting empty for over a year and a half. Part of me wasn’t sure if the figures “belonged” in the scene. In the perverse emotional world of an artist, filling what previously had seemed too empty somehow now seemed wrong. After sitting with this version for a little while and getting Christina’s reaction, I decided the addition was the right move. I thought the figures as painted fit into the overall treatment of the scene and the color scheme worked. I also liked the meta aspect of a couple of guys sharing a moment in what might be a tourist snapshot, except it’s an oil painting.
I also thought about Natchez’s history as a slave trading center and this particular landing’s role as a portal to unload Black men, women, and children for auction. For a spell, I imagined through this painting that there were ghostly ancestral witnesses to a Mississippi in which a Black man built and owned broadcast media, real estate, and construction businesses and his cousin received a prestigious award for preserving a Black-owned historic building. But I don’t yet feel comfortable with the magic realism necessary to visualize ideas like this. Natchez’s own Noah Saterstrom fluently does this kind of time and space travel (and his personal history is tied to Eidelweiss). This thread of imagination also made me recall the extraordinary George Saunders novel Lincoln in the Bardo.
I also generally had been scolding myself for doing landscapes with no people, so including Derrick and Rip in this scene was a step in the right direction. For those of you who read this post, I’ll share both versions to decide for yourself. For my part, these men belong here and many more people hover nearby in my imagination.
