In gratitude
July 12, 2020
by Ted Somogyi
I met Joe in 1978 on Sutter St in San Francisco. He was walking a picket line in front of the Academy of Art. After classes resumed Joe gave an impassioned critique in a large well-lighted studio. His tirade wasn’t leveled at some unsuspecting student. It was against the way art was now being taught. Willing to bite the hand that paid him, he named names and called out culprits. He said, you can’t teach a studio full of students how to paint. You need to work in some type of apprenticeship like they did during the Renaissance.
At break I followed him over to the coffee shop and stood by the door. He saw me as he left and nodded politely. Nervous I blurted, “...do you need an apprentice?” Surprised, he said, “you know, I might.” For the next 2 and a half years I was Joe’s studio apprentice when he lived and worked in downtown Oakland. After I left we stayed in touch. An occasional lunch. A ballgame at Candlestick Park. The wedding at Mills. Then life became complicated and we fell out of touch. Our last conversation was several years ago. We made plans to have lunch in Berkeley. For reasons I can’t remember that lunch never happened.
Today is July 12th, some 40-odd years after our first meeting. Earlier, I suddenly wondered what Joe Doyle was up to. Next thing I knew, my eyes were filled with tears.
I am heartbroken.
At break I followed him over to the coffee shop and stood by the door. He saw me as he left and nodded politely. Nervous I blurted, “...do you need an apprentice?” Surprised, he said, “you know, I might.” For the next 2 and a half years I was Joe’s studio apprentice when he lived and worked in downtown Oakland. After I left we stayed in touch. An occasional lunch. A ballgame at Candlestick Park. The wedding at Mills. Then life became complicated and we fell out of touch. Our last conversation was several years ago. We made plans to have lunch in Berkeley. For reasons I can’t remember that lunch never happened.
Today is July 12th, some 40-odd years after our first meeting. Earlier, I suddenly wondered what Joe Doyle was up to. Next thing I knew, my eyes were filled with tears.
I am heartbroken.