Art of the Heart
I believe we all think we know everything about something if we’ve been doing it most of our life, but it’s such a delight when you suddenly see a different perspective.
I’ve been working on a large art installation to celebrate people that work in the food industry that are usually the unsung heroes. It was a huge exhibition and participated by a dozen artists, each one using their own style to celebrate some of the hard-working restaurant crews that toil for the meal that’s placed in front of you.
I owned restaurants and a catering company for many years and I never saw it from any other perspective but my own. It’s a family you get hired into. They’ll never let you fail or get into the weeds because you’re part of the team and if you do poorly, it reflects on everyone else. So, they want you to be the best you can be for the good of everyone.
Art is so subjective. Sometimes people love a piece that’s just a pencil sketch, but it reminds them of the way that their grandfather drew. Other times, it’s a moment in their lives that makes them remember a time that made them smile. I knew that the artists that were participating would do a superb job, but I did not know who the people that came to look at the art would think. It’s the ones that people bought for reasons I never would have fathom that made us tear up.
One of the owners of the business hosting the event brought a gentleman over to me to meet. I assumed he was probably a reporter, but I was wrong and as we stood around and it seems like a large circle, we heard the reason why he was there.
“I came from Roanoke, Virginia, because I read about this exhibit. My son loved the food business. He was a chef and died unexpectedly. I could never understand what was so captivating for him. It wasn’t my world, and I couldn’t comprehend what made him so happy being in his.”
Then he pointed to some of the 100 paintings that hung on the wall, and he said rather surprisingly he wasn’t expecting it to look like everybody loved what they were doing. I think that gave him a lot of comfort to know that his son was doing what he loved the most and surrounded by people that appreciated him.
Several pieces of art were purchased by mothers because they knew firsthand how much hard work was involved in their children’s career as a chef or any of the positions in the kitchen. One father wanted to buy a specific painting of his son, and his son was so embarrassed that he would want a picture of him glorifying what he loved to do.
A gentleman called me during the show to tell me that his first boss wanted to purchase his painting so he could hang it up in his restaurant. That’s quite an honor to celebrate the people that got him where he is today and that Chef couldn’t have been prouder.
Another gentleman told me that when I had come out to do a few photos of his restaurant one of the dishwashers did not want to participate. I understand that and always respect their wishes, but when I asked his boss earlier on the phone if there was anybody in particular that I shouldn’t miss, he brought up that individual‘s name and told me what a great worker he was and then he proceeded to tell me about every person in that kitchen and how lucky he was to have such a great crew working there.
Now I’m mounting the show and bringing it on the road. I flew up north a few weeks ago so I could take some photographs of the back of the house kitchens in the town I’ll be displaying in. Most kitchen crews are very humble and they’re happy to have a job so they can give their family a good life. It doesn’t matter if you’re 16 years old or 60 years old. Some jobs are harder than others and when you do well, working hard and doing a good job makes for the best self-worth pride in the world.
While I was up north, I met the littlest, youngest, sweetest dishwasher and I swear that some of those pans weighed more than he did. He had full command of the dishwashing section, and I don’t think he would change it for anything in the world.
It’s the Art of The Heart and we’re lucky if we can capture it.
