I recently watched Keep On Keepin’ On, a documentary about St. Louis’ own Clark Terry, who passed away in February of this year. It was not just the 70-plus years of Terry’s magnificent career as a jazz musician that had me riveted. And it wasn’t just the host of famous musicians and friends that stepped forward to honor his legacy in the film. It wasn’t just the gigs with Duke Ellington et al., and performances on NBC, or the fact that Miles Davis had sat at Clark’s proverbial feet. And it wasn’t the eight U.S. presidents for whom he’d performed. It was also Clark Terry’s adamant dedication to teaching the young in New York City that actually brought a lump to my throat and moisture to my own eyes. The scenes between a blind and brilliant young pianist and Clark, whose sight was also failing him due to diabetes, called to my mind a host of parables and stories that were apropos and yet not quite accurate. There’s the Bible story about an angel (Raphael) appearing and healing the blind by rubbing fish oil on the sightless near the sea. On a darker note, there was Oedipus voluntarily blinding himself after misreading his own fate, blinding himself in penance, as it were, for ruining his family’s lives. But these and so many other tales didn’t resonate with me when I witnessed on film Mr. Terry guiding the pianist while calling him brilliant, encouraging him, driving him, even. Even nearing death, Mr. Clark Terry was buoyant and passionate about his students. He saw the good in them, treated them firmly. And Mr. Terry was as brilliant a teacher, salvaging light from potential darkness, as he was a trumpeter and flugelhornist, composer and man: “Teaching jazz allows me to play a part in making dreams come true for aspiring musicians.”
In honor of Mr. Clark Terry’s legacy, Ray Harvey, a brilliant and original artist, was commissioned by the Carondelet Community Betterment Federation to paint a mural on the side of a building on South Broadway. I had a chance to interview Mr. Harvey on a variety of subjects, from the world of visual art to the memory of Clark Terry:
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How did you get your start as an artist?
I can’t remember ever not being an artist. My first drawing I remember was of Yogi Bear, and I quickly progressed into Woody Woodpecker. I had all the cartoons covered.
Did your family encourage your art?
My parents and eldest sister always did. My Mom was proud of everything I did while my father made sure I had enough paper, pencils and place to work. I can still hear him say to me, “Stop working on it before you screw it up.” Not too P.C., but it was effective. I always had problems knowing when it was finished.
How much art education do you have?
I only have an associated Degree in Graphics and Technical Illustration from St. Louis Community College. I have never taken any art courses, which include painting, drawing and figure drawing. This pretty much explains a lot. While it’s easy to list what I have not been formally taught, the 40-plus years of self-teaching has to equate to some sort of honorary degree I would think. I basically learned the hand skills in college, and then it was up to me. My main education and motivation came from the other artists I worked with while employed at Maritz. I was there maybe a week before I realized I had not chosen my field wisely. I really wanted to do what I saw the other artists doing—painting and illustration. One particular artist friend shamed me into going home every night and developing a real portfolio to help me get some freelance work. Each morning, he would want a report on what I had accomplished. If I said I watched TV, he chewed me [out] the rest of the day. Looking back, I guess he acted like a conceited ass, but I would have never come this far without him. I did accumulate a crude portfolio good enough to start getting some freelance work from all of the St. Louis ad agencies, and this was my path for several years even after I left Maritz.
Are you a full-time artist?
I have been all of my life. But not until 1986 did the rubber meet the road. I was the creative director for a toy design company when I went to my boss to schedule my vacation. He just said to take the rest of my life. No hard feelings, but the business wasn’t doing well, and they couldn’t afford me any longer. I was able to still use their office as mine and I operated my new RayHarveyArt freelance business from there.
What do you feel has been the greatest challenge in turning your art into a business?
It is now as it has always been, steady work. When your work is now responsible for the evening meal there is no longer the luxury of picking your work, having full control of your work, or always being comfortable with your work.
How did you develop your current style?
How did it develop? By copying everyone else’s style for about a hundred years. In commercial art, you have to bend to the needs of the commission. If they want Monet, you paint Monet. If they want graffiti, you do graffiti. Pretty simple.
I just wasn’t happy, comfortable or true to any of the looks I did for years. Then one day, I was doing a more avant-garde scene for a restaurant. Instead of shading an area I just started to add all of these stroke lines. I liked it. It was actually fun. I couldn’t ever remember having fun making art since I was a kid. This stroke style is based on line, scale and movement. It gives a very spontaneous and rough-sketch look to the painting, if that’s plausible. I don’t care if it looks real and I don’t care if anyone likes it, really. I just know I like painting in this way. I was so apprehensive to even try and sell it at first, because I just figured it was too elementary and no one would like it. Too simple and not real enough.
The first real showing for this “new” style was at a small Christian art exhibit. The theme was “Where is Hope?” I painted a black and white illustration of the biblical story of when the woman with the disease just wanted to touch Jesus’ cloak. All the art was displayed and the judge gave awards to several pieces and critiqued many. Mine was never mentioned. I figured I had really done a dumb thing until they announced the Purchase Prize. My art was selected. The church had purchased the art for $3,000. I guess someone actually understood the art I did in that stroke style. I then developed a series of the Stations of the Cross. It still is not totally finished, but I am very happy with it. I then did 25 portraits for Joe Bucks restaurant. They didn’t care what style I did, as long as each portrait was recognizable. I did it all in this style, and then three more large murals were commissioned. Same style. I did a series of classic rock guitarists in this look and the patron loved them.
Now I designed this mural of Clark Terry. My design was chosen over many other artists. I’m starting to think I’m on to something. Clark Terry said not to be judged by how you do other people’s work, but by how you do your own work. Kind of prophetic actually. Each time I have done my own style I have succeeded.
How has the art and mural market changed during the course of your career?
It’s noisy out there. So much access to everything it’s hard to stand out. Technology was supposed to be a business savior. Instead it has seemed to muck up everything. But this is coming from a 57-year-old. Maybe it’s for the best if you know how to use it for good.
Where would you like to see your career go in the future? What would you like to accomplish?
Well, I know I can’t be climbing the ladders forever. But I do so like working at street art. There’s something about seeing a great painting out of its element. By that I mean not in a gallery. It’s accessible, it’s appreciated, and it goes to the viewer instead of the reverse.
As far as my easel paintings go, this style is where I’m going. I love the spontaneity, the graphic look and the motion to how I’m painting now. I have found the vehicle for my talent, I just haven’t found my “glowing cottage” yet. What I mean by that is that all artists take joy in making fun at Thomas Kincaid’s art. But regardless of your opinion of his work, he found his “glowing cottage.” He found what he liked to paint, what people appreciated, and what was extremely marketable. Few artists find these three elements in their art. While I may still paint everything in ADD fashion in the future, I’m always looking for that glowing cottage, Blue Dog or Soup can.
How did you decide to paint Clark Terry?
It wasn’t really planned. The rules of the project for the three chosen artists were few. Paint what you want. While some would cherish this aspect, one would still like to be awarded the commission, so you find yourself trying to mind-read the committee.
The committee gave each artist free reign in their subject choice. Sometimes that’s bad. It’s like someone asking to hear a song, but not telling you which genre. You want to please them and be selected for the final, but you have no direction. So I just decided to come up with subjects I wanted to paint regardless of their opinion and not worry about it. I had a few really good ideas, I thought, but when I stumbled across Clark Terry and his life in south city it made the decision for me. But on a sad note, Mr. Terry just passed away this recent February. He was 94 years old, and lived as complete a life as one could imagine. I studied all I could regarding his life and career. Why he isn’t a household name like a Miles Davis or Quincy Jones, I have no answer. I found my style really complemented the subject of his look, the horns and the wall. The art has motion, like his music. It has its own look, like his music. Its way bigger than life, like his music. The painting took 11 days to complete. While as is common, no one was there when I finished, and no one was there when I signed it. Just Clark and me. I kind of like it that way. I take my art very personally. It’s just between me, the art and God until it gets reviewed. Then it’s marketing. The painting should last at least fifteen years under normal weather conditions. Clark kind of gets a few more years of life on Broadway.
A dedication is being planned for early spring. Usually the event is right after the art completion, but it’s getting very late in the year regarding reliable weather. Plus, they would like Mrs. Terry, family and some national talent to be present, so the longer the lead time the better the attendance. Some of the talent names dropped for the dedication are Wynton Marsalis, Denise Thymes, and Jeremy Davenport. But once the word gets out in the industry, who knows what Clark followers may attend?
Perhaps the blind poet Homer and his singing of tales was what I was thinking of. All of that beauty and truth coming out of someone who couldn’t see. Clark Terry passed away doing what he was made to do: playing and teaching jazz. It was an honor to remember him in my own way, while he kept on keepin’ on until he could no longer. And it’s an honor to talk to those who keep Mr. Terry’s light shining in the world.
You can see Ray Harvey’s Clark Terry mural at 7700 South Broadway.
