Since the beginning of this blog, I have used the 2001 painting “David and Me” by Canadian artist Steve Walker as my profile picture and my avatar. Someday, I may change it to an actually picture of me, but for now it remains. I chose it for what I think is a very good reason. Back in 2006, I spent a month in Italy conducting research for my dissertation. I remember standing in front of and looking up at the remarkable statue of David by Michelangelo much like the guy in the picture, though I don’t think I was wearing a backpack at the time. It was a truly awesome experience. Each time I look at images of the painting I am transported back to that day in the Galleria dell’Accademia in Florence. Of course, back then I did have a head full of brown hair with a similar hairstyle. Today, there is much less hair and what I do have left is now nearly completely gray. I don’t have the muscle definition I had back then, and there’s a more weight on my body. The painting has always had a special place in my heart, and I wish I owned an actual print of the image.
Walker passed away at his home in Costa Rica on Jan 4,2012, at age 50. He was best known for his haunting and poignant acrylic portraits of beautiful young men (solo and in pairs), often done in muted shades. “Some colors are very exciting to me,” he once told James Lyman, a Massachusetts gallery owner and Walker’s art executor and trustee. “While others are quite offensive. Painting flesh is very exciting to me because of the huge variations possible within a very small color range.”
According to friends, Walker was strongly influenced by Renaissance Italian artist Caravaggio – especially in his use of shadow to show the contours of the young male form. For his subjects, he chose to paint gay men, depicting the struggles and joys the gay community lived through in his lifetime, from the fight for sexual liberation to the devastation brought about by HIV and AIDS. Walker believed his subjects were universal, touching on themes of love, hate, pain, joy, beauty, loneliness, attraction, hope, despair, life, and death.
As a homosexual, I have been moved, educated, and inspired by works that deal with a heterosexual context. Why would I assume that a heterosexual would be incapable of appreciating work that speaks to common themes in life, as seen through my eyes as a gay man? If the heterosexual population is unable to do this, then the loss is theirs, not mine
—Steve Walker
Walker was an entirely self-taught artist and sold his first painting, Blue Boy in 1990. He painted a second in 1991, called Morning, of two young men in bed after sex. Walker’s paintings were mostly large because he believed that a large image was more appealing and has more impact than a smaller one. As with many artists, Walker was painting the sadness that was in his life. Two of Walker’s partners had died over the years, and his close friend Marlene Anderson says he was lonely. His paintings are about gay life, and the focus of them often depicted sadness and loneliness to reflect the reality that much of anyone’s life is sad and lonely. Walker told a firend that it is rare to find success as an artist, and Walker was happy his work would be his lasting legacy.
I strive to make people stop, if only a moment, think and actually feel something. My paintings contain as many questions as answers. I hope that in its silence, the body of my work has given a voice to my life, the lives of others, and in doing so, the dignity of all people.
—Steve Walker
In his lifetime, Walter’s work was exhibited in Toronto, Montreal, Los Angeles, Fort Lauderdale, Provincetown, and Pasadena. Much of the gay community loved Walker’s work and many pieces were sold for several thousand dollars. His art appear on the covers of gay novels, such as American writer Felice Picano’s 1995 epic Like People in History and the late Gordon Anderson’s novel of 1970s Toronto, The Toronto You Are Leaving. His paintings also grace the covers of six books by Michael Thomas Ford: Last Summer, Looking For It, Full Circle, Changing Tides, What We Remember, and The Road Home. Ford describes the book on his website mirroring what has been said about Walker’s art:
Much of my fiction is about what it’s like living as a gay man at this time in history. These six novels look at different aspects of the gay experience. Although they share a cover style, they are not a series, and may be read in any order. Many people ask who the cover artist is. It’s Steve Walker. Steve died in 2012, but his wonderful artwork capturing the lives of gay men remains to remind us of his talent.
September 27th, 2021 at 12:49 pm
Damn you, Joe. I had just yesterday decided to binge read the 14 works of Edmund White I have in my personal library, and now you go and bring up Michael Thomas Ford. OK, I’ve pulled the ten works I have by him, and added it to my To Be Read shelf.
I’ve long appreciated Walker’s art, without really knowing anything about it except that he portrayed gay men the way I fell we should be shown. Thanks for bringing him to the forefront of my thoughts. And thanks for reminding me how much I like Ford’s writing. I’ll be writing him up on my blog down the road.
Bryan
September 27th, 2021 at 12:54 pm
I think I’ve read a few of those I mentioned, but not too long ago, I think I read The Road Home, if it’s the one that mostly takes place in Vermont. One of them does anyway. I like Ford’s book, but they can make you quite emotional, if I remember correctly.
September 27th, 2021 at 1:43 pm
Yes, Indeedy. The Road Home is set in Vermont and tells the tale of the protagonist’s recuperation and the relationship he has with his best friend’s son. I look forward to re-reading it. And you’re absolutely right, Ford’s books can be quite emotional–when he’s not being outrageously funny in his essays, e.g. That’s Mister Faggot to You or Alec Baldwin Doesn’t Love Me.
September 29th, 2022 at 5:57 pm
Stunning work..!!
The charcoal rendering of a lone dory, depicts solitary strength… and beauty. A difficult rendering, from a very talented artist.
I hadn’t known Mr. Walker’ work, discovered in a Huntington Arts Council Quarterly.
Alternate works are just as moving.