Painter of the Month

Painter of the Month: Jobert

Sometimes what appears a miracle is just a better way of seeing.   When a child is deemed deaf, or blind, or unable to speak, and this same child, once they get A.R.T., demonstrate they can hear, or see, or speak?  You can understand how this might strike one as a sort of miracle.  It's not.  It's not a miracle.  It's true that numerous people we've worked with have had these dramatic break-outs, having appeared blind, or deaf, or mute, when in fact they weren't. They could see, or hear, or speak, but because they were so tightly clammed up, angry, or utterly bummed out, or simply resigned to drift through a life of passivity, they are on strike, unwilling to show signs of hearing, or seeing, or being able to speak.

Deaf.  Blind.  Mute.

Deaf:
In south Jersey, we are told a little girl is totally deaf, yet when there is passing noise in the hall it gets her attention.  We asked the staff-person to watch the little girl's face.  I step away, quietly returning to crouch behind the little girl's wheelchair so she can't see me, extend my hand out near her right ear, and snap my fingers, her head whipping around in the direction of the sound.
It is not the staff-person's fault.  They were told the little girl was totally deaf. When people think you're deaf they treat you like you're deaf.

Blind:
In Richmond, Virginia we were told this guy we wanted to work with was blind, but he was moving his head the way you do when you can see.  So we went ahead, sweeping aside the diagnosis.  With a large canvas, bright multiple flood lamps drawn in close, a great big brush, and black paint, the guy they said was blind deliberately, with excellent laser control, created a painting that truly rivaled those made by the famous artist Robert Motherwell. There was a professional artist observing our workshop that day.  He was floored, admitting the painting was easily as good as anything he'd ever done. 

Mute: 
Nine year old Nicole.  We can see how intensely she's been watching her school chums painting with the A.R.T. systems.  She's rising up in her wheelchair, waiting for her turn.  We offer her the options.  She says, "la, la, la, laser."  Clutching her heart the teacher's aide runs from the room.  After a good while, when the teacher's aide returns, we ask her, "Are you okay?  What happened?  Are you okay?”  The aide, still breathing heavily, whispers, "She doesn't talk."
"Well," we report, "she does now."

 
You see the gap leapt over?  You see how easy it was, how simple, how practical, how real?

Here's how the miracle of A.R.T. works.  We know what we don't know.  We know we don't know what is inside a person.  Like Jesus said, "Don't look for the kingdom of heaven in things around you because it dwells within."

So we, rather than judging from superficial appearances, remain open to the person having a fully robust life trapped inside. Any other less open approach to this person will limit them. ‘Label me and you deny me.’

We offer these people what is many times their first chance ever to take exacting control.  Fully individual control.  Not control to do some mundane task, but to unleash their inner life.  To engage the world in the most meaningful way.  In a way that taps the powerful drivers of Art: heart, spirit, mind, soul. The whole deal.  Not the damaged goods sitting silently in the wheelchair, but this unique individual full of life.  We offer this liberation in a way that is 100 percent neutral, i.e. the user knows, perhaps for the first time, no one else has their fingers in the creative pie.  This is found so compelling to those we work with, in order to engage the A.R.T. systems they will use abilities they were not revealing to those around them.  They will ignite them so they can grab the reins of something they finally really, really want to do.  

There are so many more examples.  The teenager staff told us should not be offered the head-mounted laser because she could not keep her head up.  The teenager indicated she wanted to use the laser so we put it on her head, and up comes her head so she can get the bright red bead of the laser on the canvas.

The staff who knew her so well, for so long, gasp.  The young girl's head stayed up, passionately ripping the laser through the metallic colors she had placed about her canvas.  In a furious flourish she electrified the surface, ripping gold into silver, silver into gold, metallic opal, metallic white.

They said she should not be offered the laser because she could not keep her head up.  But she could keep her head up.  It was justthat she had no reason to lift her head...  no fierce enthusiasm calling her to lift her head.  And then, with A.R.T.’s simple full faith in her, she shattered the misperceptions concerning her limitations. 

A.R.T. has found the breakthrough.  We've ironed out the path for others to follow, to bring real freedom to those mistakenly deemed incapable.

A.R.T. has the honor of being part of the Lakeview School in Edison, New Jersey.  The principal, Lynn Sikorski, is the most alert, involved, caring, most informed professional we've ever worked with.  Her staff is great, the school is great, and the kids are great.  Lynn writes, “I know the kids love it, it is such a freeing experience for them.  They have the opportunity to call all the shots, explore and create.  I just love what it does for their spirits.”

Our Painter of the Month is the Lakeview A.R.T. artist Jobert. Notes from our outstanding Tracker Sean Shanahan:
 
Hi Tim,

Here's some info on Jobert for our upcoming Painter of the Month.
As for a physical description: Jobert is probably around 15 years old. (I'll confirm that for you.) I believe that his family is from the Philippines. He's got black hair in a bit of a mop style, kind of like Peter Tork from the Monkees. Once you start talking about painting with him, he's all smiles and giggles. Especially when he takes a look at the color chart; he absolutely loves mixing colors. His eyes are a very deep, dark brown, and though they tend to wander a bit at times, he can maintain good eye contact. Actually, that might be a good point: At least within the A.R.T. room, his eye contact has shown a marked improvement over time.

Jobert is most definitely a man of few words. In fact, many have never heard more than a few words from Jobert. But once I started working with him staff were surprised at how much he started to open up. Jobert would bloom during his weekly session. People pass by the A.R.T. studio all throughout the day, oblivious to the sounds coming from within.
One particular day though, I noticed several people who would walk right by the door, stop, then backpedal a few steps and stare in amazement at Jobert, clearly giving me direction - "More yellow." "To the left." "3 scoops of blue paint." - a small crowd even gathered at one point, mouths agape and eyes wide. As soon as he sensed their presence though, Jobert would zip up, not even saying yes or no. That was my cue to close the door. Painting is serious business to Jobert, and requires a certain atmosphere - an atmosphere that doesn't include an audience.

TL: Although real artists do not like talking about their paintings, words so limited, even spoiling the real feeling, I went ahead and asked Sean to get some quotes from Jobert for the Painter of the Month.  Here's more of Sean's note:

I'll be honest with you Tim, even though Jobert speaks so much more these days, at least to me, he says very little in regard to his thoughts. I've tried to interview him a little, here and there, to get some good input for this piece, but that's just not really his thing. It's been quite hard. As far as direct quotes go, the only thing he wanted to say was, "Painting makes me feel good."