A Once Starving Aritst Finds a Feast in a World He Never Made

FOR YEARS I HAVE BEEN REGARDED AS A FREAK to the art community. I have faced every kind of smear and rejection imaginable. I have endured years toiling away in obscurity and poverty while abstract painters and modernists in general—those who are identified as untalented--have had every honor and recognition showered upon them. Yes, it was their lack of talent that was being recognized and celebrated. Men, who would have otherwise happily employed me, have rejected me upon learning that I have been severely criticized by the art guardians---the self-appointed elitists.

I have seen commissions vanish that properly should have been mine, but was instead handed to the untalented in the name of ‘open-mindedness.’ Does this make me angry? Sure. Of course. What are my views on abstract and representational painting? I loath art that is all technique and no emotion. I don’t care for representationalism if nothing is really being represented but masterly technique. And I loathe purported art that is all emotion where nothing is represented to carry the emotion, and that is devoid, arguably, of any real technique. I have been vocal about my views. Naturally, I have been criticized as being “closed-minded” and too dogmatically wedded to the so-called "stale paradigms of traditional art"--whatever the fuck that means.

I have, in the minds of some, committed a sin against the Holy Ghost: I have failed to see the legitimacy and value of modernist and postmodernist art. I have failed to conform to the dictates to the established vanguard. This is, perhaps, where I came into trouble. Newton had taught us that for every action there is an equal opposite reaction, so it could be argued that the enormity of the establishment’s hysterical animosity toward me had its own logic. I have paid price for the sins I have committed against the established order we see in the art world today: I have been relegated to the bottom of the food chain as caricaturing doodling plankton. Cruel is the society to those who do not bow down to its freakish fetishes.Today, however, critics fall over each other lavishing my art with praise---now that the upper echelons of the art community have officially endorsed me. Ever since the art guardians bestowed their canned odes to me, I have become a Toronto celebrity of sorts. It’s now fashionable to heap flattering adjectives and accolades upon me. I’m the new fad. This damn culture! Man, I need to ask myself as an artist: is it ridiculous or brilliant, beautiful or ugly? I now realize that it is all of these things!

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I have always thrived on ambivalence and complexity, and I believe that ambivalence and complexity is reflected in my art. In my art, I am praising popular culture while simultaneously ridiculing it. Is it any wonder that I speak of so-called ‘the dark side of caricature’ and the ‘light side of caricature? Talk about complex and perhaps contradictory.

There are many who sum up my work as being nothing other than ennui, a permanent sneer, a contemptuous dismissal of idealism—but they don’t realize that it is really outraged idealism. This is - at once - dark and light. Our culture is a vast Cecil B. Demille portrait, a grotesque tragicomedy, as it is a heroic drama. It is brilliant as it is bizarre! The fractions of an inspired and insipid culture are scattered all about like a shattered mirror: some of the fragments reflect a beautiful glitter, but most of it will cut you. It is this mixture that you will see in my paintings and drawings. Like a culture, a personality can be complex and it can even contain contradictory elements. I do think my art is a reflection of my own contradictory personality. As there are degrees of visual acuity, so there are degrees of awareness: I have an active mind intent on understanding the world and the people in it. I am prepared to summon every conscious resource that will enable me to grasp the things of my concern. Part of what makes art ‘good’ is the artist’s skill at capturing his worldview and “essential concerns” in his art. A work of art embodies a viewpoint about human nature and humankind’s place in the world. There is a 'point of view' in my art. My caricatures cannot come out beautifully detached; they must be charged with fear, horror, anger, humor, and irreverence. They are also inspired by love, passion and good-natured humor.

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It is believed that the art of any period is a faithful mirror of that culture’s philosophy. So when you see some of the monstrous and grotesque caricatures I create—the composite picture that emerges is merely a microcosm of our culture. In view of the responses I have received, my effort to achieve a highly stylized representation has succeeded with flying colors. I am confirmed in my conclusions about popular culture. I find that there are scores of people who agree with my artistic interpretation and who share my sense of humor. They have exercised their own independent judgment and saw the merit of my work. The critics and media commentators, juggling its shrill adjectives like a movie review of the latest blockbuster movie---‘daring,’ ‘hilarious,’ ‘brilliant” ‘spectacular’---among other ballyhoo---have done nothing. Their praise means nothing to me whatsoever.

An artist friend of mine once said: “love the artist, for he gives you his soul”. Truer words have never been spoken. Sadly, they were spoken as a bromide to people who did not understand their profundity. Yes, I have given my soul---contradictory as it is. I have satirized this culture and made a mockery of it. I have reflected in caricature what I considered to be frightfully bizarre and inverted. Yes, I have done all of these things, but I have nonetheless paid the culture a homage. Still, I know just how ridiculous and nihilistic this culture can be. I'm torn! I have underestimated the degree of insanity people are capable of. Now I don't. I look at the state of the culture, at the state of modern art, and I feel as if I have landed on a truly bizarre planet. It is this angst (and my attempt to laugh with a heart of healthy mirth) that will always find itself in everything where my art is concerned. Am I preachy and condescending? No, I want to be honest. Could I ever be a "monolithic unchanging singular artist"--to quote another artist. No, never. Is art a spiritual autobiography—as that one artist has coined the term. And I applaud that designation.

This artist said once: "I recognize that I am at times confused, lost, chaotic--that my world and my self can be mysterious to me--and that out of these apparently negative states, artistic riches can be forged"

He spoke right to my heart.

**

LOVE in BLOOM (protected and preserved)

On September 19th, 2006, Angie and I posted a declaration of our love for each other. We called it Love in Bloom.

We had “met” each other on an internet forum, more fully explained in my blog post Love and Friendships in Cyberspace. That declaration of love was desecrated. Both Angie and I were insulted and criticized as a couple and as individuals. Therefore I wish to preserve our original declaration of love here, in my blog---in my sanctuary—shielding it from the nihilism and malice it was previously subjected to. Apparently, we were “asking for it" by the simple fact of being open about it. Strange, Angie and I simply thought of it as a celebration ---we wanted to share that celebration with what we thought was an extended cyber family, to share what we had found in each other.

I have come to refer to that forum as a “snake-pit”. There have been some people who are skeptical to the justified anger I felt (and feel) given what happened, but I would hope that by posting here what is “sacred” to me should demonstrate, to some degree, to those who care to see, how I view myself and Angie... and the rarity and preciousness of love. The envy and malice that Angie and I have been subjected to was very upsetting to us both--and it is merely adding insult to injury to have those people underplay and deny the damage caused, the total inappropriateness of the behavior exhibited.

Here is the original Love in Bloom. First a post from me and then Angie—two posts and that is it. As it should have been, but somewhere else….like here.

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VICTOR:

Angie is the most beautiful women—inside and out—that I have ever come across in my life.

Angie is not my ideal woman. That is, it would have been impossible for me to project in my own mind everything that she is. The image of my ideal woman falls short to the reality that is Angie. She is much more than what I would allow myself to hope for. The image in my mind of the “ideal woman” does not do her justice. She is much more. I have been known to call her an “angel” and that is what she is: she ascends way above what I must now consider the poverty of my imagination. But I am compensated for this “lack of imagination” because, my God, Angie loves me right back. Now that’s truly ideal. Angie and I “met” no place other than here [….]

We bantered back and forth for a while and then we started to communicate with each other in private email. We immediately connected and did so at an accelerated rate. It blew me away to discover how simpatico our values are. It was a definite case of visibility; it was a total “mirror image” that we both reflected. The spiritual-intellectual-emotional connection has been great. That powerful connection’s voltage increased a thousand watts more when we spoke on the phone. It was a three hour conversation that seemed like a mere three minutes. Now, in not more than a mere month, we have become one [and the amazing thing here is that the both of us have retained our individuality!]

Our next step is to meet in the flesh. But I did want to now openly announce how we feel for each other, to put an end to the rumors, to now place it in the realm of fact. Angie, I adore you. I love you! Thank you for returning that love.


ANGIE:

"I'm truly and honestly at a complete loss for words. It is true that Victor and I have connected and romance is definitely in the air. Even though it's only been a short time, it was very sudden for me and it was bound to happen. We are so much alike on so many levels it truly is like looking in a mirror. I've never met anyone like him and probably never will again. I would be a fool to allow him to slip through my fingers. He exceeds everything I could ever want in a man. I have a tremendous amount of admiration and respect for him. He truly inspires me.

We've talked quite a bit through email over the last month or so and the connection was there immediately. Even when we spoke on the phone, I didn't want to let him go. We hit it off so well. There was nothing awkward about it. It was almost as if we had known each other for years. The conversation flowed very naturally as soon as we heard each other's voices. We were both completely at ease with each other.I've found him entering my thoughts where ever I go now. I can't get enough of him. I want him. As the days have gone by, that connection we had in the beginning has turned into love. I can honestly say that I do love him. I love him for everything that he represents as to what a man is supposed to be. His online persona is so different in private. He is the most caring, most loving, most respectful man I have ever met. He is absolutely beautiful to me. And I'm still floored that he feels the same way I do.

This has been totally surreal for me. I sometimes feel as if I am in a dream and it can't be happening and that any moment I'm going to wake and realize it was just that -- a dream. But it's not. It's happening and it's happening to me. I never thought I would ever run across someone like Victor. It amazes me that out of all the places to meet my Mr. Right I found him here. He is everything that I could possibly want in a man. He exceeds everything that I could possibly want in a man. You are breathtakingly beautiful to me, Honey. I do love you. I am so very excited and anxious to finally meet which will be very soon. From there, it will be one hell of an adventure.

We're already like two teenagers together. You know what I'm talking about, "You hang up," "No, you hang up first," "No, you hang up," "Okay, we'll hang up together then." I thought that was adorable and precious. We truly bring out each other's sense of life even more and that is the Atlantis that is in both of us. I have no doubt that this will be a romantic love affair that will span a life time. I love you, Victor.

***

FANATICISM, the Age of Ideology.

In this drawing, Fanaticism, the Age of Ideology, I depict an ideologue--who holds a lightening rod that bears the words: “the rod of morality”---while a sea of skulls lay miles behind the central figure, as they do at his feet.

It is death on a immense scale.

There have been many who objected to this drawing, laying down the “obscenity” card. I discard, out of hand, any objections claiming “obscenity” --which is merely a subjective term in this context. Let’s leave that rubber term at the door, please. It’s a nothing word to me when it comes to art. Looking at it from the artist’s perspective, if I worried about who might be offended (or who may not be offended) by one of my caricatures—meant to satirize in the first place—then I would be paralyzed before the blank sheet of paper or canvas! I can’t create while wondering if the viewing audience has the thin skin of a suburban lawn-mowing PTA member or the roughness of a tattooed sailor. I don’t care. Obscenity is simply not an issue to me when caricaturing --and it never will be. It is the death of a caricature artist.

But if anyone is concerned about the issue of obscenity: My caricature is exposing the actual obscenity, which happens to be, by the way, um, the topic of this drawing: fanatical genocide. In the realm of ideas, there are things *I* consider obscene and I will express myself as *I* see fit to *expose it*.

There is more to this drawing than I care to explain, but a few points are called for that will illuminate it (beyond what is clearly seen).

The drawing is of a specific person who ascribes to a specific ideology, but I don’t care to go into detail of those specifics, I would much rather have this drawing rest as a more general statement of fanaticism. Whatever the ideology one ascribes to—one can hold it dogmatically and fanatically—even if the canons and tenets of that ideology of peaceful and reasonable when judged in the abstract.

This drawing is testimony to the fact that fanaticism is a double edged sword, that the hostility toward Islam can be fanatical as is the hostility of those who fly planes into skyscrapers.

This drawing stirred a lot of people. Emotions were engaged---ones of jubilation and great hostility. That is somewhat understandable, given that the drawing is rather controversial and funny (depending on your perspective).

I would like to focus on some of the hostile feed-back given from sundry sources. Some of these hostile remarks attack me as an artist and as a person. I don’t mind too much. In my career, I have been there and done that! If anything, it is a rather edifying look into the power of art. The remarks stand on there own, to be judged as you, the viewer, see fit.

Please note: For clarity and brevity, the quotes are edited:

Victor Pross, [is] a rude, talentless "artist" [who] drew a political-cartoon type "work" depicting certain […] figures as would-be genocides due to their hostility to the ideology of Islam.

… the so-called "caricature" of her…was quite disturbing, disturbing from the viewpoint of Pross's way of thinking….”

I must ask, is not…this "caricature" (which has none of redeeming values of the graffiti one finds in urban ghettos) not beneath people who have reached puberty?

*“Renderings of a Disturbed Mind. Both movies A Beautiful Mind and Suspect Zero featured creative people with disturbed brains sketching even more disturbing works of art as their interpretations of reality. This sketch from Pross brought the film events to mind for me. Whether he is actually a paranoid schizophrenic I will leave to a medical expert to diagnose.”

*“I'm slightly embarrassed to look at it. I seriously feel like I've seen a drawing from a therapy session. It makes me cringe.”

OUCH! :}

LOVE AND FRIENDSHIPS in Cyberspace

HUMAN BEINGS NEED TO CONNECT. Through all kinds of relationships—with family, friends, neighbors and colleagues—partially meet the human’s hardwired need for social contact. The need most commonly reveals itself in the search for love relationships---romantic love. People in love relationships need to expend a lot of energy to maintain those relationships. Many people, not currently in love relationships, invest similar amounts of energy to find one and this is clearly a fact given the huge popularity of dating sites, dating services, speed-dating and personal ads. The need for romantic love can be that strong, no matter how many friends or family one has—the need for the deepest intimacy a person can experience.

I am witness to the people around me and I do see a mad and desperate dash to find a connection, to find love.Finding a life partner, it can be argued, in a sophisticated technological society is harder than finding one in a primitive village, where everyone knows everyone else and one would pick a spouse from the relatively few people available. Now the horizons are much less limited, but the trade off could be a loss of “community” and a fraying of the social web that supports the individuals in question.

I’m of the old school: I enjoy face-to-face relationships with living and breathing human beings, terribly old-fashioned that I am. I’ll take reality over virtual anytime. Nevertheless, I became curious and eventually joined the cyber world of the 21th century, but not to find romance. Ironically, I found many chat groups and forums that complain about the isolation of modern life. In the 1960s Marshall McLuhan first wrote about the “global village”. Since then the world has become even smaller and more interconnected, now that the internet and globalization has brought the earth’s people closer together. Mind you, McLuhan was talking only about physical space, not cyber space. With so many human interactions now mediated by some kind technological interface, be it a phone or a computer, contact between people loses the intimacy necessary to form individual relationships and in turn communities. In our accelerated technological society, we have become too caught up worrying about being a tec nerd or fussing over a “profile” to enjoy a “spiritual connection” to our world or to other people. At least, this can be the sad reality for some people…and for others it is not.

I would now be the first to state that technology has unarguably improved human lives a great deal, and this would include mine. One benefit is the expansion of our circle of potential relationships—especially a love relationship. Personally, I found just such a relationship. I wasn't seeking it. It "just happened." I experienced a great intensity, an overwhelming for the lady that I “met.” Our values and thoughts paralleled one another’s to such a great extent, it seems as if we have already met face-to-face and have known each other for years. As the women I met said: “Yes, we have spent quite a bit of time together. When we get together to talk, easily the hours fly by. I'm so engrossed with him that I lose track of time. The time we do spend together all that matters is Victor."

I felt exactly the same.

****

There are those who are cynical or skeptical to the idea that people can fall in love via the cyber world, but when I monitor my insides, my thoughts, feelings—my reactions to this woman—I know for certain that the cynics are wrong.

Some times these “new ways” of meeting people, ways that are not in step with the conventional way, excites tremendous hostility in people. This woman and I have been exposed to a lot of sabotage attempts online and off, people trying to implant doubt and skepticism as to the viability of an internet spawned relationship. It has been characterized as “rationalism” and “over-the-top” and these are the more friendly descriptions. In the end, who cares how you come across another person: a club, a class room, being introduced by friends, meeting at a dance class, wine testing party, a monster truck rally. Who cares! (Plus, there is no way for them to really know how we feel for each other...so they simply cannot say. Yet, that hostility and nihilism was very present. Envy and hatred is truly an ugly state of mind).

While it is not practical to maintain such a love relationship for a protracted period of time—neither is it desirable—but nobody can tell us that we did not fall in love, although some have tried and fervently so. It is with such possibilities—finding friendship or love---that the modern technological world is to be commended.

***

There are thinkers and philosophers who have wrote about the “alienation of modern man” with the advances of technology, and I always found a certain plausibility to their claims, but I eventually concluded that alienation is an inner phenomenon and not external. Spirituality—in the secular meaning—is essentially an internal matter, an affair of the heart and head. It has to do with a mode of consciousness, a certain way of perceiving oneself, others, and the world and the universe at large. There is nothing religious or mystical about this. People are connecting all over the world with a personal home computer and a click of the mouse. This “spiritually” is being transmitted and communicated and FELT at long distances via the miracle of technology.

A quote from the woman that I met clarifies the point very nicely.

“I've found so much in Victor that I have never found in anyone else. He truly is a mirror image of who I am, what I represent, what I value, my interests, and so on. I've never met someone such as Victor that has had everything that I wanted in a partner. I knew well before coming to any sites or reading about the philosophy that I wanted someone that was very much like me. Someone that reflected who I was and am. And Victor is the first man that has been able to do this. We've connected on so many levels.”

****


Yes, people are connecting all over the world, meeting in chat-rooms and forums and the like. At some point, however, they’ll have to leave their desks to enjoy and maintain that which can never be replaced: live contact with another human being. The internet can bring people together—but it can’t keep them together. Can people connect and fall in love before actually meeting? The answer is a resounding YES. There is no dispute. This girl and I have thought of our selves as standing on a hill thus allowing us to have a different view from the cynics. We moved from the valley--where the mob stands—with its heard view of success, trends, and values—and what they consider “appropriate” and “normal” when it comes to meeting another person and falling in love. We saw a new perspective—we saw our own. We wrote our own rules. Yes, I admit it: I was skeptic before, but now I’m a true believer.

***

An excerpt from my Novel, THE HUNGRY ARTIST.

The following is an excerpt from The Hungry Artist. In this excerpt, told in first person narrative, an artist is experiencing the pangs of self-doubt and artistic frustration—something that we all have experienced. I believe that any artist should be able to relate to this. In fact, anybody should be able to realte to this. We’ll see. Let me know.

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"I awoke to a rainy noon amid the clutter of my room. The remains of last nights painting session had not been cleared away. Paints, pizza, paint smeared rags, brushes, dishes lay strewn about. I wasn’t in the mood for housework. I putted around, fixing a greasy fried egg sandwich and cup of coffee. I sat on a stool, half-dressed, flipping through an issue of some art magazine. Things were not going well. I stopped painting, surrendering to a feeling that my work was basically aimless and lacked a technique that accomplished artists seem to master so effortlessly. Of course, I knew that they had perfected their craft by studying and practice.

I pushed back my chair and looked at the canvas for a moment sneering at the image. I got up, walking up down the floor. I started to read voraciously, attempting to give myself a do-it-yourself education. My efforts to assimilate myself and find a direction were obsessive. I crammed my schedule with the study of philosophy, art history and painting. I read omnivorously in coffee shops, at home, in parks, the library, everywhere. Jodie [the character's girlfriend] was too tired listening to my ravings about idea’s that I was convinced were changing my life, and I got out of the habit of trying to embroil her in discussion. I was tapping ever deeper into my intellectual and emotional life—discovering the wealth that is the human spirit.

By the time I turned twenty-two, I had achieved an intellectual maturity, a greater facility with drawing than I ever had before. But I still felt anxious and irritable, for I felt that something was amiss. It was all the more frustrating because I couldn’t place my finger on it. I just knew that I hadn’t yet found my “voice” in painting. My art didn’t express completely what I knew I could bring to it. Sitting near my easel, I would skim through a collection of rejection slips—having sent out expensive comps of my art to magazines or newspapers---hoping to be commissioned for anything---and I figured that these people caught on to that which I was beginning to discover: I hadn’t honed my talent yet, not fully. They had every right to reject me. That’s what I thought. I figured the rejection was based on a lack of education in the arts, on a lack of proper training—as if they somehow knew this. How naïve I was, believing that employment prospects would immediately identify my talent and hire me on the spot. After all, strangers and friends alike have confirmed time and again my “obvious talent”—but everybody else, especially those in a position to hire this inspired artist, treated me as if I wasn’t even worthy to paint their garage door. How much rejection can a person take before a spirit crumbles?

Sometimes I felt as if my so-called gift was not more like a curse. I sometimes think that if I had not been endowed by some gift-dispensing God of the universe with the ability to draw, I perhaps would have taken up a more practical career, like accounting or dentistry. But those laments faded when I imagined myself as a non-artist…gazing over the shoulder of some artist saying something stupid like “Wow, that’s really good, I wish I could do that. Why, I can’t even draw a stick man.” But even with the occasional bouts with self-doubt, I decided to press on as if destiny had me favorably included in her plans. There is no getting away from what I am. I am an artist. I will succeed. Period. I need to draw and paint like a drowning man needs air. I am an artist! It is in my blood. And With the burst of energy propelled by this thought---I am an artist—I retrieved my sketchpad as if to rebuke any possible lingering doubt roaming around in my head and I drew, drew, drew!

Leaning on the legs of the chair, I began to sketch with bold and confident pencil strokes and, shaping before me on the clear white paper, a human figure emerges, a highly stylized one. I was caught up in the mania of shading and detailing the drawing and I felt as if the blank page was coming to life, a life that I felt coursing throughout my whole being. I felt a hunger. No matter how much I drew, I could not satisfy the hunger I felt."

**

The Big Sleep: Death can be Fun and Beneficial.

"It's not that I'm afraid to die. I just don't want to be there when it happens,” declared the perpetually pessimistic Woody Allen. Views like this give death a bad name. Death has received a lot of bad press and so it is no wonder that it is universally reviled. In the Letters from a Stoic, Seneca wrote: “You want to live—but do you know how to live? You are scared of dying—and, tell me, is the kind of life you lead really any different from being dead?”

It is a crying ignominy that the lighter side of death is never presented. I think dying doesn’t have to be the morose and cheerless event everybody insists on making it. Death can be fun. More: it can also be beneficial.

Stevie Smith said it all: "If there wasn't death, I think you couldn't go on.” With this more optimistic approach, let us proceed to explore how death can be fun and beneficial. Let us not think of death as the end but rather as a beginning. And let us not forget that life is temporary whereas death is everlasting. I think there is something to be said for that.

One of the first benefits that come to mind is one’s reputation. Eulogies are always sweetly sugar-coated and are purposely the complete opposite of the usual vile libel we receive in life. Everybody speaks well of the dead. There is even a hesitation to speak “ill of the dead” from one's sworn enemies. Amazingly, your enemies are able to recall better aspects of your character. You never get that while living. Even when the dead are spoken of in a disapproving manner, it is usually considered poor taste. Let them rest in peace! You get the picture. Alive, you are an asshole. Dead, you are affectionately recalled.

The lives of the dead are retroactively subject to change so that a “difficult woman” can be reconstructed as a “misunderstood perfectionist,” and a “dumb blonde with big boobs and small brains” can be transformed into a “victim of the patriarchy,” and a “psychotic nut” can suddenly be altered into a “sensitive artist.” Sure, death seems like an inflated price to pay for respect, but remember that until she died, Marilyn Monroe was a joke. The posthumous “unearthing” of Marilyn’s unacknowledged talent—her revision as feminist icon---seems to be a sign of progress indeed.

People who commit suicide possess a wisdom that is lost to those who cling to life. It was the French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre who invented Existentialism, a philosophy that articulates life’s nauseating emptiness, this big vacant nothing that all of us fight so hard against. But suicides are the people who have given up the battle. They are tired and they want to go to sleep. And as best as I can recollect, sleep is good for us.

Suicide has the added bonus of having a cult following: the fan club of self-destruction resulted in a Rolling Stone cover of Jim Morrison in one of his famous lizard-king poses with a caption that read, “He’s hot. He’s sexy. And he’s dead.” And let’s not forget the attention that Hendrix, Kurt and Elvis receive. They are more popular dead than alive. In fact, when the word that Elvis had died was received, one showbiz kibitzer said: “Good career move!” Elvis alive was a problem. Who wants an old and fat Elvis Presley? Elvis dead was a property.

Personally, I don’t take death seriously at all. We all have to go sooner or later, so why get all wound up over it. Let’s have fun. I don’t want any irritating weeping and self-serving grief at my funeral. When I shake off this mortal coil, I would prefer to have my life celebrated. I don’t want to be mourned. You knew it was coming. I would want to be recalled as a creative and humorous person. So in the spirit of that, let me tell you how I foresee my funeral:

First of all, I would insist in my will that the assembled are to wear Groucho Marx glasses and mustaches. This would include the individual who is to perform the eulogy. (Of course I would want any flattering acclamation to be followed by a debate as to its truth). I would want my widow to speak fondly of my sexual prowess...now that I’m a “stiff.”

Secondly, I want my body to be left to the care of taxidermy. I read somewhere modern practice of taxidermy incorporates many crafts: carpentry, woodworking, tanning, molding and casting. It also requires artistic talent, including the art of sculpture, painting and drawing. I can see my body being stuffed like a cute little teddy bear. At the funeral, I would want my corpse erected upright in a surfing pose—complete with a swimming suit and sunglasses. (I never did surf in life and I don’t think that a dead man’s last wishes should be denied).

Thirdly, I would prefer to have my wax-like carcass on permanent display at some museum. I prefer that a hand-crafted effigy to be buried in place of my actual cadaver. Most important, let's have some laughs.

Lastly, I would prefer to have Frank Zappa CDs playing at my funeral in place of that awful lame organ music so characteristic of some funerals. That shit bores me to death. In the words of Charles Frohman: "Why fear death? Death is only a beautiful adventure." I say make it a creative and humorous adventure!

Death is not to be feared. It is one of the absolutes! If you don’t find anything humorous about death, think of it as the Big Sleep. Still, everybody has to die. Such is life. Anyway, who wants to live forever? Is that really how you want to be remembered? That prick who just won’t die? In famous last words, Lord Byron on his death bed was reported to have said: "Now I shall go to sleep. Good night."

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In case this needs to be stated, this is a humor piece.

Exaggerating the obvious (Posted Date: Friday, March 19, 2004)

Caricaturist in great demand because of fine art skill by Ken Shular

It’s fair to say that the art of caricature, or even more broadly the art of illustration, doesn’t get its due respect among the artistic literati. In the world of fine art, they are forms that are treated with less than overwhelming respect, but there are some in the community changing that perception everyday, including artist Victor Pross. "Illustration has historically held a lesser spot in the art world. Caricature and illustration are viewed as an inferior art form than what is defined as ‘fine art,’ perhaps because it is commissioned rather than self-generated," Pross wrote in the January 2004 issue of Caricature magazine.

"Most of my work is self-generated and holds no other direction other than what this artist gave it. In fact, in creating many of the present works I found at some moments I flew out of myself, becoming purely a channel for inspiration; there was an almost total loss of self-consciousness." "I’ve always been of the belief that caricature can be a legitimate art form, but is traditionally looked down upon in the artistic community as on the lower rung," he tells the Town Crier. "But I studied fine art and I decided that caricature is an interesting genre that you can employ fine art techniques and also to have something more adult- or edgy-oriented as opposed to always irritatingly cutesy, wutesy. "Only now the art form is getting more serious consideration and just even cartooning work altogether, where you have now everybody realizing that cartoons just aren’t for children, whether you’re watching South Park or whether you’re reading a graphic novel."

Pross, who lives in the Danforth and Woodbine area, is an award-winning professional artist, specializing in high quality caricatures. His popularity is growing steadily and his work is in considerable demand. Pross has been interviewed on several television shows, including On the Arts, and News At Noon and he has had his work featured in various magazines, comic books and other publications. Recently Pross was commissioned to create artwork for ‘Raise The Grail’ — The Hockey, a revolutionary new board game. He was commissioned to create the art for the game because of "his unique style and his ability to bring the game visually alive."

His has also completed a coffee-table book titled Icons and Idols: A Portrait of The Twentieth Century, which he is hoping to get published. Icons is a satire of the makers and breakers of the century featuring the caricature art of Pross accompanied with text by Canadian writer Edward Keenan. And, if that wasn’t enough, Pross is working on the documentary, Bohemian Odyssey, which takes a look at modern caricature artists and their work, but as well features a historical retrospective on the art. "It’s much more than just looking at somebody’s features, knowing nothing about them and just exaggerating those features that might be prominent," he says of an art form that is misperceived as something that takes place only on a sidewalk or the fair.

"Most people assume it’s going after unattractive features and that’s a mistake, it’s not going after unattractive features, it’s going towards focusing on prominent features, distinctive features. "It’s also a matter of knowing something about the person that can be incorporated in the picture. The good caricaturist would take the time to find out about something about the person where their personality is reflective so that they just don’t stand there like a clump of clay interchangeable with any other body. "In a lot of (my) paintings there are visual clues and biographical indications if you search hard enough," he says. Sometimes they can be ironic; sometimes they can be coy; sometimes they can be humorous juxtapositions, such as the painting of playwright Samuel Beckett, who was a very miserable, existentially angst kind of guy and I thought there’s an interesting juxtaposition to have this Pollyannaish ’70s’ happy face hovering above him wishing him to have a nice day, so I thought that was interesting to do that and if I didn’t know that about him — if I was just given photographs and was told ‘yeah, he’s playwright now go and do the job.’ But because I took the time to find out what the hell this guy’s about, I incorporated that."

The art form spans a wide variety of genres, with Pross dabbling in almost every aspect — from book covers to CD covers; characters in a board games to characters on a story board; from contemporary portraits of the average Joe to commissions of celebrities. Most recently Pross was commissioned to do a caricature of Hollywood director Ron Howard, who was in town scouting locations for his film Cinderella Man, starring Russell Crowe and Renée Zellweger.

The heads at the Toronto Film Studio wanted to get Howard something for his 50th birthday (March 1) and approached Pross. "They just searched out my name and they reviewed 10 or 15 other caricature artists and decided on me," says Pross. "They thought because it is his birthday, they wanted to note it naturally, because turning 50 is such a turning point in one’s life, and they thought what can we get this guy that we can afford and something that is original. "They thought, ‘well, let’s get him something that he wouldn’t necessarily already have or something that is entirely original.’ I think that an original work of art — something that is not mass produced — is certainly something that is unique and they thought because he does have a sense of humour, they thought they would hire a caricature artist to do a painting of him."

The rendering, highlighting Howard’s career — noting his freckled-face turn as Opie Taylor in The Andy Griffith Show; to portraying Ritchie Cunningham on Happy Days; to moving on to feature films with roles in American Graffiti and his numerous times behind the camera as a director. The picture was presented to him the night of the Academy Awards, when a special pre-birthday celebration was held for him. "I just thought what would be an interesting (opportunity) to do something that is very abstract like that, commemorating a career, but also acknowledging his birthday of course," says Pross. "Let’s do that via train, because you have at the beginning of the train going way back and then you’re moving forward, which is the locomotive part and each caboose (captures) different aspects of his career and he’s got greater things also to look forward to, because he’s going to a destination in where he came from. "

It was a big hit. As soon as the painting was presented in a very dramatic way by first covering it and then flashing it. It was a big shock, everybody went into like ‘wow; oh my God,’ and laughter and guffaws and that was what was reported back to me and it registered the effect that they were going after. Ron Howard could hardly concentrate on the rest of the Oscar night because he was always going back and looking at it and chuckling and making further commentary on some detail of the painting."

**

At the age of thirteen I became a make-out artist. I was well aware of the favorable responses my art curried from the opposite sex. I decided to take advantage. In turn, girls took advantage of me. Stephanie was a year older than me and she was a dark haired beauty. She had all the makings of the town’s soon-to-be slut. She exploited her good-looks, bending all the local boys to her will. She loathed the other boys, but she liked me and my rebellious ways. In exchange for a drawing, Stephanie promised to show me her…um…private parts. “You can look but you can’t touch,” she admonished this fervent young artist. Being a highly curious young man, I agreed. The clandestine exchange took place in a clearing in the woods where this excited youth caught an eye-full of “private parts.” My expression flushed red and I swallowed hard.

Stephanie smiled coyly, alternately looking down at her own hairy glory and at me, enjoying the spectacle of frustrated sexual energy. It was both a pleasurable and painful experience for me. Having feasted my eyes upon the coveted goods, and my youthful hanker peaked, I wanted to take the plunge. But the Garden of Eden was for viewing only and no tasting of the fruit was permitted. The joys of being an artist achieved only minimal satisfaction.

About Victor Pross

About Victor Pross

"Victor Pross is a professional artist residing in Toronto. He has become a very successful caricaturist and has been voted as 'Canada's number one caricature artist.' by Canadian media. His popularity is growing steadily and his work is in considerable demand. Victor has been interviewed on numerous television shows and has had his work published in various magazines, comic books and other publications.

Victor's current focus is to complete a coffee-table book titled 'Icons and Idols: POP goes the Culture.' Icons is a satire of the makers and breakers of our times, a satirical examination in pictorial depiction of popular culture. This stunning book will feature the caricature art of Victor Pross and will be accompanied by humorous text. The book examines pop culture as seen through the distorted funhouse mirror of a satirist trapped in the body of a fine art painter."