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The Times Picayune
Saturday, February 21, 1998
RANDY
FRECHETTE PUTS ACTION AND ENERGY ON CANVAS – AND
HE FINDS PLENTY OF IT IN NEW ORLEANS
By
CHRISTOPHER ROSE
Staff writer
Randy
Frechette has never been coy about his artistic talents.
When he was a kid on the East Coast, his family moved
so often that he wound up attending 11 different
schools, so he found himself using his drawings as
a way to lure friends. Years later, earning his keep
as a waiter in Orlando , Fla. , Frechette continued
his none-too-subtle approach to art by setting up
his studio in the front window of a music club. There,
he patented his own style of art, a mixture of musical
energy and oil painting he likes to call eye candy.
It
all began one night when a Boston band called the
Heavy Metal Horns was booked at Eric's Downtown Blues
and Jazz Cafe. Frechette had seen the band once before
and was blown away by its wall-of-horns sound and
the energy it kicked up in performance. He decided
to try to capture that essence in a painting. "I
was pretty illiterate to music at that point," he
says. "I had no idea what I was doing, but I
pulled it off. All these colors came out of me. I'd
never used so much color before. I used the color
to portray energy and sounds. It was great. I started
experiencing these wonderful sensations . . . kind
of hard to describe, really."
The result
was a lively, impressionistic rendering of live action,
sort of a rock 'n' roll version of the work of famed
sports event painter Leroy Nieman.
"I
hear the Leroy Neiman comparison all the time," Frechette
says with a roll of the eyes. "I guess I could
do worse." Frechette, 27, who signs his work "Frenchy," is,
then, a performance artist in the most literal sense
of the term. He paints performances. Standing on
platforms amid swaying crowds, he dances with his
palette and does band portraits. His easels inevitably
draw crowds and he becomes part of the scene, part
of the band; he says: "I'm a musician; I play
brush."
At concert's end, he has completed
another painting. Just another day at the office.
He
got locked into this routine on the Orlando music
scene and people who took notice of him all said
the same thing: "You should go to New Orleans
."
He took their advice a year ago, arriving
in town the day before the Super Bowl, in a Ryder
truck full of paintings and clothes.
That
weekend, he had the fortune to discover that hip
hop blues artist G. Love was playing in town. Frechette
had painted him in Florida and got his permission
to do the same here. People took notice and he started
meeting musicians and music club owners and in the
past year has become a fixture at clubs like the
House of Blues, Tipitina's, Mermaid Lounge, the Maple
Leaf and the Howlin' Wolf, juking with his hips and
shoulders about while mixing canvases full of images
of musical performances.
He has painted dozens
of local acts - the Neville Brothers, Anders Osborne,
ReBirth Brass Band, to name a few - and a load of
touring national acts, from REO Speedwagon to Emmylou
Harris. Blues Traveler liked his work so much that
the band invited him to accompany part of its tour.
MCI hired him to paint the Eagles reunion show at
the House of Blues last fall and made limited edition
prints out of it. One thing leads to another. A shipping
company executive saw his work and said, "It
would be cool if you could do a picture of boats
with that same kind of energy." So he painted
some ships.
He did the commemorative poster for Jeff
Fest this fall. There's talk of a gig in Vegas, and
the Beach Boys were said to be interested in a piece.
During
the year he has been in New Orleans , he has completed
70 to 80 canvases, selling well over half of them
to the musicians themselves.
Frechette
is no dilettante; these paintings are his sole means
of income. It's his job, and a great revenge on the
only art instructor he ever had, a guy back at a
technical college in the East, who told him: "If
you think you're going to make a living creating
your own ideas on canvas, you're nuts. It's impossible.
You need to do commercial work."
Bah.
Frechette
would next like to branch into studio work, away
from crowds, to see how the tranquillity would affect
his work, but that luxury comes later. "I like
working in the studio, it's intimate," he says. "I've
done so many bands that I long to do that painting
that is in my head, in my soul, instead of on stage,
but, for now, I have to pay my bills. I want to buy
a house here. I feel the pull of this city. It is
a place to create."
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