Growing up in the 40’s in
Irvington, a small community of Indianapolis was both the
best of times and the worst of times. During the early days of World War II, I
remember an occasional air raid which darkened the area surrounding our
neighborhood. This brought home to us – tucked away in the landlocked Midwest
that we really were at war in the United States. My mother was busy
with alterations for servicemen’s uniforms, while my dad worked at the Naval
Ordinance where parts were being made for war supplies.
In other parts of Indianapolis, factories and
other facilities had been given over to making materials needed for the war. I
guess Indianapolis may have been one of the few
places in the U.S. where air raids darkened the
night. I’m not sure whether these raids took place in other parts of the
country.
At our house, we had heavy
dark blinds that we’d pull down over the windows when the sirens went of. If we
made the mistake of leaving a light on in the house, we would hear in a loud
voice from those who patrolled, “TURN OFF THAT LIGHT.”
The best experiences of this
era for me were the Saturday afternoon movies with my cousin and brothers. The
cartoons and weekly serials that screened before the movie started kept us in
mind of the war. I hate to say it, but when the so-called ‘Jap’ and ‘Nazi’
characters came on screen the booing and hissing would raise the roof.
The sound of the air raid
sirens brings to mind a film with Greer Garson and Walter Pigeon about the war
in London. It
was so timely!
A film that zapped the muse in
me was the The Zeigfeld Follies. (As I think of it, I ought to see if I
could rent or buy it to try and understand why I still believe or think it was
Soooooo Great. . . .)
In the picture, Florenz
Ziegfeld looks down from heaven and creates a new revue in the flamboyant style
of the day. I loved the musicals and dancing variety films of that era. In my
opinion, at that time Hollywood helped to create positive creative
thinking.
My whole family was creative
individuals in their own way. My dad was a self-made philosopher ~ encouraging
me to think, while giving me, by example, the confidence to just be me.
In these early years my mother
was an inspiration and what I received from her remains with me today. She was a
writer for radio and TV and also wrote poetry. During the war, she published a
love song titled After a While.
My parents gave me a piano,
but I refused to practice. Instead, I began to draw and sketch the human figure.
And, thanks to prompting from my grandmother, my parents signed a form that
allowed me to attend a ‘life-figure drawing’ class at the John Herron School of
Art when I was only 12.
I remember walking in to class
with my large tablet and charcoal and looking around the room while pretending
this whole scene was nothing new for me. The room was full of G.I.’s returning
from duty, along with two catholic sisters dressed in their black habits. ‘Wow’
it was an education for a twelve-year old (with both male and female models
appearing during the course…need I say more) I married during the Korean War (in
the early 50’s) and continued my studies with a commercial art correspondence
course called “The Famous Artist Course”. The course was taught from Westport, Connecticut. (The schools teaching roster
named such illustrators as Norman Rockwell). Later I won a home study course
from ‘Art Instruction Schools’ based in Minneapolis.
I was fortunate to make good
money as a freelancer coloring sepia photographs (usually of graduating high
school seniors) for several photography studios. This was before color film came
into use. Luckily for me, this kept me busy and granted me more than enough
money for art materials.
My first art show as shared
with another artist. The first sale of a painting in a real gallery was a
wonderful experience, and the first time I began to believe that maybe this work
of art would hang on some wall long after I passed away (and joined Flo Ziegfeld
– Ha! Ha!).
The act of painting is for me
inspiration alone, while the empty canvas influences the muse to appear once
again. While no one artist, living or dead, influences me there are many images
and works of art that do. And they are far too numerous to mention! Working each
day I make art on canvas or paper with an intuitive drive and a keen awareness
that the piece may be included in the last great determinations of ~ What is
Art?
--Carole Orr lives and
works in Houston Texas
