TEDDY JOHNSON REMEMBERS ARt ROSENBAUM

Art’s reputation preceded him when we first met in 2003. I was a prospective graduate student at UGA and I was already enamored with folk music, folk art, and mannerist painting. I was aware of Art’s epic multi-figure murals, had read of his connection to the storied days of Greenwich Village, his acquaintanceship with Bob Dylan, and his banjo work on Cool Hand Luke. So, I was I a bit intimidated to find that I was getting the school tour from this man. I was flattered that, during the tour, he showed incredible curiosity about who I was and the nature of my artwork—an attitude that he brought to each person he met. Standing over my small slides on a light table, we talked with excitement about glaze painting technique (something I had just begun to learn during a study abroad semester in Italy earlier that year).  I couldn’t have known in that moment that it would be the start of nearly two decades of friendship.

 As his student, Art impressed upon me the value of pulling the life out of the painting instead of simply following a muse. It took me a while to find my place in Grad School and to even to understand who Art was, but most important for me was his teaching by example.  In his studio, there was always new drawings on the table, canvases in progress or ready to go out to exhibit, illustrations pinned up and ready to go to a publisher, CDs in boxes ready for a merch table, a radio show in progress, a portrait commission on the easel, a box set ready for proof, a documentary in progress, a banjo tutorial in the works.  Art was always busier than anyone I knew and his energy seemed unending.  When walking through his studio or sitting with him and his wife and collaborator, the incredible artist Margo Rosenbaum, there were always stories told with enthusiasm and energy—stories of artist friends, musicians he was recording, and projects on the horizon. Art made it clear through his actions thatthere is no need to limit oneself, that in the crosspollination of passions there ispotential to do much of high value simultaneously. I credit him for giving meinspiration through his example to pursue a multifaceted art career that includes painting, curating, teaching, and directing a gallery. Even around 15 years after first meeting him, my wife Heather and I laughed to one another during a stay with Art and Margo in NYC about being outpaced byfolks twice our age as we bounced from museum to museum, and then combedthrough flat files of artwork by artists including George Bellows in a rent-controlled apartment of their old friends late into the night.  

Around 2005 Art and artist (then fellow student) Ty Lytton discussed their shared love of Sea Chanties in a drawing class, and soon enough, I was amongst about 10 folks from the drawing and painting department and beyond, who took to regularly meeting at the Globe in Athens to sing sea chanties. The group met monthly, and it was during these long nights of merriment that I best got to knowArt and become his friend. Art would play the banjo and accordion as he taught somany of us that what counted was singing with resolve. He compelled us to commit to memory songs of labor, history, innuendo, and lore. It was infectiousto gather each month, taking turns leading, trying to blend voices, and finding ourfooting within a tradition that had previously seemed only a fable.  

 One day Art announced he had signed us up to perform on stage, and we laughedin disbelief that we would perform alongside him. Soon enough, we had performed on many stages, festivals, theaters, bars, and galleries, as the Around the Globe Chantey Singers. I remember the same disbelief when he mentioned recording an album. How empowering and inspirational it was to sit in a circle inArt’s studio around a microphone—the group trying to translate our passion and bond to tape.  We sang into the nights with Art’s paintings, collections, andstories adding additional warmth to songs, beers, and friendships.   

The Around the Globe Chantey Singers would take on many different members during the years and I myself would return to Maryland after the first couple years of the group. But the friendships that I formed with Art and others during those few years of grad school continues to be foundational to my life and work.It formed the base of my annual pilgrimage back to Athens, long after graduation—the highlights of which were always long conversations in Art and Margo’s living room surrounded by their art and stories, generosity, and mountains of books.  

Grad school was the beginning of almost 20 years of meetups, occasional collaborations, or common painting exhibits, from Savanah, to Charleston,Virginia, New York, Baltimore, and Pennsylvania. We talked about painting andwhat it meant to be an artist, to sing, to play banjo, and to see the world. It wassuch a bedrock in my life to call up Art through the years and gain his insights as Imade my way through the art world, being a professor, having a family, and the pandemic.

 The Child Ballads show in 2010 was a painting exhibit with musical performances that I curated and produced with my now wife. It was inspired by music I learned about by way of Art through his amazing field recordings. I remember calling him nervously and asking him if he would participate.   He not only agreed but supported us every step of the way on the exhibit. He made a custom painting for it entitled Lord Daniel –a bold sexually charged painting of lovers being confronted with sword by a jealous husband based on a traditional ballad as sung by Mary Lomax. Art drove up from Georgia to Baltimore and then a few months later to NYC to perform at both legs of the show. He lent us lots of his time giving feedback on the planning, and even connected us with his friend, the esteemed John Cohen, to screen his films and serve as a guest performer. He arranged forhis son Neil’s film Sing my Troubles By to have a special screening. I can’t even begin to express how meaningful it was for me to get to collaborate with Art. It was one the of the many generous moments with Art that had a profound effecton my life. I particularly treasure the last year and a half, having gotten to stay with Art and Margo at their home on a couple of occasions. I’m grateful I was able to witness inperson and from afar Art’s final paintings and Margo’s prolific drawings and paintings, despite Art’s diagnosis with terminal cancer.  What an incredible verve for life.Right before my final visit, Art told me over the phone, “I won’t be much fun but it would be great to see you.” Though by the time I arrived, Art was in the hospital on hospice, I was amazed by the warmth and generosity at hand with so many friends visiting. Margo even prodded us to sing chanties in the hospital knowing how much they meant to Art. The crowd of visitors who came to see Art, spoke volumes about how much he meant to so many.