Thursday, June 12, 2014

Hospital - heart trouble



Tony had heart trouble, it seems since 1981 in my memory. So he regularly ended up in hospital. there are several pen and ink drawings he made portraying nurses. Probably he gave away most of these  portraits to the nurses who were kind to him. So just a little drawing, unsigned and not dated.

The medicine circle and the bike

Tony had a hard time doing nothing, in 1992 he had build a swimming pool in a wooden coral. it turned out that as soon as when we went shopping kids would jump into it, unsupervised obviously. As a consequence we had to tear it down, gave the pool to a neighbor with kids and used the coral to fence in my two griffons. The pool left this wonderful impression in the dust and Tony decided to make a medicine circle out of it. He put all kinds of good stuff under the cement: salt, corn and such. The bike project was probably in 1995. He gave this bike to a dear friend Dale who unfortunately crashed with rather severe consequences for himself. Bill Hamilton found Dale in the desert and got him and the bike home.

Monday, June 9, 2014

The pond

THE POND


Morning in Hoboken. Light meets me again, the light
of long languid days at the pond near Lawrence Hall.
Oh, eight again in the orphanage of Chicago!
(My Cherokee daddy took a deadly drink of acid,
run-down by the taunting sneers about his lineage.)

All the time of the world. I and the boys never plan,
it all happens to us of itself, like one day
just being dropped here of itself. It is a tacit covenant:
misery we drown together in this secret pond
in the middle of the woods. All our senses sharp.

All gradations of green circle the glade where clouds
touch water, pink veils brought in by the wind.
I hear yesteryear’s sounds: the song of redwing and hummingbird
blending with our high voices of boys and the diving,
the breaking and splashing of water. We looking for water turtles.

Briefly eight again in the orphanage, but the screeching
of the seagulls brings me back. Winter in Hoboken.
Fog collars me now. Singularly touches me,
mutes colors and sounds. People hurry by, numbed and lost
deep in themselves. It is the restraint that strikes me here:

of the light hardly showing color, of the pigeon on the branch in the mist,
of nothing still stirring, of sound we gave a name but continues
to stutter strangely in the ears and, if at last the sun breaks through,
the shifting of shadow and light. It is my heart that is touched here.
Years and years beyond words.


Painting a clown on a trapeze in Chloride

This painting was done in 1998 in the front room of the gas station. The first beginning is at the top left, the second phase, botom left near the end when the light was getting low. For good measure sake also look at the smaller pallet he used and the freshness of the colors on it. He always used oil paint never acrylic. It sadly was Tony's last summer in Arizona... If you click on the picture it should get bigger.

Friday, November 15, 2013

A painted door

 In Chloride, Sharon shared her paintings she had from Tony Mafia. She loves horses and thus when Tony did the painting on her door he portrayed her on a galloping horse in the left top corner. In the full length portrait she is holding two dolls.
Tony wrote: How beautiful she rides and signed it. The painting was done in 1990.




Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Picture by Barbara.

Here is a photo of the drawing which I purchased while a student at the University of Miami in 1969.
I love it and have cherished it all these years.  It's a mother with her two babies.  Was this his wife and
children?
Enjoy,
Barb P

Thank you Barbara. By the way: did you ever meet Tony? If you did, do you have any memories. I like the drawing you send. It looks like a pen and ink drawing. In 1969 his little son Sören was a couple of month's old. When Tony and Anna Mors left for the USA on January 14, they left a lot of the bigger items for me to use for my daughter: I remember a plastic bath tub and some bits and pieces. It did help because nobody among us had money in those days. I don't know when Anna got pregnant with their daughter. I seem to remember she was  born in autumn in 1970. So Tony may have anticipated his daughter in this drawing. To me this drawing looks like a child with two dolls... See, art is always open to different readings. I have been told that the family has lived for a while in Miami. I think he did teach art there for a while. Not sure.

Thanks for sharing.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

A comment by Christopher Vipond Davies

He writes: I knew Tony back in 1965 in Paris. We played and sang together in a would be cowboy bar. I had left Britain a few months before to "find myself" and in St Tropez I had found I could make a basic living singing in the cafes. After moving north to work in the champagne harvest I gravitated to Paris. At that time, I didn't have a large repertoire and probably wasn't so good, especially at handling people who requested songs I didn't know. The boss like Tony but had reservations about me, but Tony insisted we were a pair. "I’m Just a Country Boy" - Music by Fred Brooks, Lyrics by Marshall Barer - written for Harry Belafonte and now associated most with Don Williams was a favourite song of his, he played in with a rising chord sequence. He wanted to go to Spain, I wasn't sure, and we parted, shortly later I went to Italy. I've always remembered him, also his great art, in those days I remember mainly ink drawings with colour was, a very immediate impression of a moment a place. I was very sad when I Googled him some time ago to find he'd passed on, but happy to find him so comprehensively remembered. I was reminded of him again last Saturday: I was singing n the street in Amsterdam, where I live, not far from the Rembrandthuis and an artist stopped to chat, and mentioned he'd known Deroll Adams who I read had known Tony, and all the memories came flooding back. Am working on finishing a song about him, based on Country Boy, wanna sing it on Tuesday at a meeting celebrating the UN Day of Friendship.

Thank you Christopher for this nice testimony.