Painting “Waiting” and “To the Sea” with Gregory Kondos

Waiting

 

In January, 2008, I took a painting workshop from Gregory Kondos at Natsoulas Gallery in Davis California. During the class, Kondos said he was feeling a bit depressed since his brother had died recently. His comment affected me.

 

I painted “Waiting”, a woman staring over the ocean waiting for her husband to return from a sea voyage. I finished the painting after a couple hours, and because I was the first one done with a painting, he sat and looked at the painting for quite some time. Then he asked the workshop artists to critique the painting.

“The horizon drifts downward, isn’t straight,” an artist commented.

“Yes, you’re right," Kondos replied. "I’ve been looking at this painting for a long time, trying to figure out why it works.”

Kondos asked me why I painted it that way. I explained that it was the feeling of looking into the distance, and getting depressed, thinking about how far away a loved one was. 

“Yes,” Kondos said, “that’s what I feel, too.”

 

In the next two hours I did another painting, “To the Sea”. Kondos came by my easel after I finished the painting.

 

To the Sea

“There’s something missing,” he said. “Do you mind?”

He lifted his hand, ready to add something to my painting.

“Not at all!” I said, happy to have his hand in my painting. 

He took a piece of charcoal, or pastel pencil, and drew a black line along the valley to darken and add depth.

“There, now it is done,” he announced. “Put a floating frame on it and it should sell for $5,000.”

I smiled, offered him the painting, ready to close the deal.

“Oh, no,” he said, waving off my expectant grin.

I thought about asking him to sign the painting, but thought better of it.

 

At the end of the workshop, he announced that he was having an opening of his new show that night. I called home, extended my absence for another few hours, and was at the opening when it started. Kondos showed up, with a retinue of friends and groupies. People in the gallery began crowding around him. Then he saw me standing a few feet away. With a wave of his hand, and a quick comment to his followers, he left the group, came over to me.

“So glad to see you here,” he said.

He then gave me a personal walk around the show, talking about his work. He asked me which paintings I liked best. I was honored! It was one of the high points of my art career.

PS: The Kondos paintings were mostly over $20,000, so I decided not to offer to swap my painting for one of his.

PPS: Kondos died in 2021 at the age of 97.