Harry Schwalb's drawings on display at Concept Art Gallery
Clearly, Harry Schwalb knows something about art.
"I have lived through 60 different schools and movements of art," Schwalb says. "I like to think of that now and then."
From Social Realism to conceptual art, the 79-year-old artist has seen, experienced and written about it all. But after decades as one of Pittsburgh's most esteemed art critics working for publications such as ARTnews and Pittsburgh magazine, among others, Schwalb says, "Even after having seen all of that, I came back to this."
The "this" he is referring to is his drawings, of which 22 of his most recent hang near the entrance of Concept Art Gallery in Regent Square. This evening, a reception will be held in his honor.
What will first impress visitors to the gallery about Schwalb's drawings is their overall uniformity: Each was created on a 23- by 18-inch piece of its English woven paper; each features as subject a single object drawn from life, either alone or in patterned groupings; and each is surrounded by what he calls "the world's thinnest frame."
Then, almost before you have had time to take in this overall effect, each object begins to shine forth as though a glorious statement unto itself - the glamour of a gingko leaf, the irony of a well-trimmed thorn bush, the ratta-tat-tat rhythms of knuckles on bamboo stalks - all of the innate characteristics of each individual object reveal themselves through the most delicate handling of line and erasure.
As skilled with an artist's pencil as he is with the critic's pen, Schwalb is a virtuoso when it comes to suggesting the suppleness of leather, as in the piece "The Corbusier Chair," or the soft tufted down on the neck of a North American wren, as in "Bird Watch."
For Schwalb, a pencil is an extension of the artist's fingers, allowing him the immediacy of getting down on paper what's in his mind. "To me, that's the essence of art," Schwalb says. "It's the most immediate, the most personal, the most direct expression of the artist." Hence, everyday objects become even more when filtered through Schwalb's capable hands.
In the piece "Throne," a common bentwood and cane chair produced by the Czechoslovakian furniture company Thonet throughout most of the 20th century proves a regal subject.
Although the inquisitiveness that comes with being an art critic has informed him that the chair was a favorite of Swiss-born French architect Le Corbusier, his artistic eye has instead chosen to focus on the intricate weaving of the cane in the seat, allowing him to masterfully render it in a believable perspective.
Observing and drawing objects from everyday life is what Schwalb does best, whether it be a bush in Shadyside or the tiled floor of his bathroom. But sometimes, it's not the obvious characteristics of these objects that intrigue him. For example, he'll focus on the speckled markings on a pear or the way two ears of corn have been bound together with a thin wire and presented for sale at a local grocery.
You will find several drawings of fruits, vegetables and plants in which Schwalb has honed in on the not so obvious. Like in "Hurlybarley," in which a smattering of barley seeds is rendered in soft, delicate lines that flesh out the subtle roundness of each individual seed.
It's a naturalistic image, and although each seed commands attention by virtue of how Schwalb has drawn it, in their combined yet haphazard arrangement they also can be seen as much more.
"It's more than barley, because life's too short to just draw portraits of barley," Schwalb says. "To me it's a population explosion, the chaos of metropolitan New York, automobiles, whatever."
Other subjects are cause for even more associations. A yellow morel reminds Schwalb of Edwardian fashion, a la "La Belle Epoque." A Ginkgo leaf reminds him of the showgirls in the Ziegfeld Follies. And a simple plum reminds him of a woman's bottom.
Although such symbolisms might encroach upon the artist's consciousness while drawing these objects, Schwalb is quick to point out that, as in the case of the barley, "If it were just barley, that would be enough for me, too."
Aside from the enjoyment that comes from deriving such associations, drawing from life, particularly fruits and vegetables, has obvious advantages, the artist says. "I'm the only artist who can eat his model," Schwalb says as he places a humble grin squarely below his thick, black broom moustache.
Pointing to the drawing "Speckled Red Pear," Schwalb says, "Afterward, I ate the pear. It was from Shadyside Market. It was expensive."
As for the equally expensive morel, Schwalb says it was particularly good with scrambled eggs. But as for the plum, well, "I couldn't force myself to eat the plum," Schwalb says. "It was just too filthy."
Additional Information:
Details
'An Evening of Harry Schwalb'
When: Through Oct. 11. Hours: 10 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. Tuesdays through Saturdays; noon to 5 p.m. Sundays; Thursdays until 8 p.m. Opening reception, 7 to 10 p.m. today. Artist lecture, 2 p.m. Sunday.
Where: Concept Art Gallery, 1031 S. Braddock Ave., Regent Square.
Details: (412) 242-9200.
