The band is cooking tonight. From twenty feet away you feel
every kick of the drum and every chop of the guitar.
Soulful, funky music at its best. The horn section
leans in and lets fly with some of the most energetic
harmonizing you've ever heard and the place explodes
with applause, shouts, whistles and hoots. And
then there's that guy a few feet to your left.
What the hell is he doing? Dancing, but what with?
It's huge. It's... a canvas. You take a few steps
back, excusing yourself as you bump into several
partying concert-goers, until you can see the canvas
the man is dancing in front of, and you finally
realize this guy isn't just dancing; he's painting
the band. Live. What you have been watching is
there on his canvas, in a somewhat abstract form,
but there's something else. Ribbons of color everywhere.
At first you wonder what it is, but somehow you
understand without asking, because even though
you never saw it on the stage, you now understand
it was there.
It's the vortex. The energy created by both the musicians
and their audience, along with other factors. AcoustiOptics.
AcoustiWhat?
Randy Leo Frechette is the man who paints what others can't
see. But call him Frenchy. To get a good overview
of what Frenchy does, visit his web site, www.frenchylive.com.
You'll see pictures of his paintings of dozens
of artists from P-Funk to The Black Crowes,
several events at three different Olympics and
various odds and ends. Once you've taken the tour,
you'll always know a Frenchy painting when you
see one. That originality has translated to success
during his lifetime, a luxury rarely afforded artists,
and he sells his paintings right out of his gallery
on Royal
Street in the French Quarter. Artists dream of
such a situation. For Frenchy, it's real. He's
respected by his peers, his work is sought by collectors
and he has the satisfaction of knowing that he's
one of a kind.
Frenchy recently took a break from his busy schedule to talk
to us about his work, his life, his philosophies
and... oh yeah, that AcoustiOptics thing.
What IS that, anyway?
Cosmik:
You paint a lot more than bands in performance.
You don't just paint an artist playing an instrument,
which can be interesting itself, but you paint ribbons
of color surrounding the musicians, the vortex of
energy. Are you painting what you actually see,
or what you hear and imagine?
Frenchy: It's a combination of all the senses.
It's a combination of the whole day. It's a release
of passion. When there's a band, an event, and energy
being created, it's being created into a vortex,
and I believe you can tap into it. The more people
you have, the more energy you have.
Cosmik: In the audience?
Frenchy: Yeah, the more people that are on
the same page, the more intense that energy is.
Cosmik: So it's not always just from the
musician.
Frenchy: No, it's from the people, the venue,
and then the music has a lot to do with it. A lot
of the musicians are friends that I've established
relationships with throughout the years, so there's
even more of a release on my end when I'm painting
bands I'm familiar with, I know the music, I can
subconsciously pre-anticipate rhythms and thoughts
and I can single out just the bass or whatever.
When I get into the painting, I'll real gesturally
sketch out the band because I want to put their
image in there, but I'm primarily working the abstract
behind it, the energy flowing through everybody.
Sometimes I use forms, or just brush strokes. Just
whatever's going through me at the time. But the
colors that I pick have a lot to do with the emotions
that I'm feeling through that music, that instrument,
that key or that note. I try to stay real in tune
with the sound and stay with the rhythm, and that
allows me to do the painting fast.
Cosmik: This is kind of a weird area for
some people and not for others, but I'm curious
because of the glow in your paintings. Such a tiny
percentage of the population can see auras around
people. Are you able to?
Frenchy: I'm not sure. I feel auras but I
don't know about actually, physically seeing them.
I see them when I'm translating them into paint.
I close my eyes and then whatever color ends up
on my brush ends up there, and I think that freedom
of expression allows for nothing getting in the
way, and that might be the true color I'm seeing
without actually trying to see it.
Cosmik: I've wondered if a musician's aura
changes during performance.
Frenchy: Definitely. It's like every color
you can imagine and then some. I'm still looking
for those colors. I don't think man can make
those colors. Not physically. (Laughs.) Yeah, I
believe that. If I'm just going to a gig, I'll just
sit there and stare and take all these visual sketches,
you know? Then I have all this visual imagery that's
subconsciously in my head from all the thousand-plus
gigs I've done, and when I'm painting in the studio,
it's easy for me to tap into that, too. Now, in
my studio paintings, I'll be doing the AcoustiOptics
abstracts, which have no bands, but to me, they're
my interpretations of sound waves floating through
space. There's usually a vortex in all the paintings
somewhere, or the shapes, if you look at it in a
certain way, will twist into a vortex.
Cosmik: I'm thumbing through the dictionary
here and I can't find AcoustiOptics, so maybe now
would be a good time to explain what that is.
Frenchy:
AcoustiOptics... Pretty funny story. I was new to
New Orleans,
and I was painting at the Funky Butt. I was the
new kid on the block, and I was painting [saxophonist]
Earl Turbinton, [Trumpeter] Terrance Blanchard,
this dude named Matt Dillion, and Walter Payton,
the famous bass player. Walter and Earl, the two
oldest guys, came back to me at the end of the gig
and they were looking at the painting, and one of
them said "You know whatcha doin', right?"
I said "Whatcha talkin' about?" He said
"You know whatcha paintin', right?"
I said "Uh... Paintin' ya'all." He said
"NOOOooo, baaaby! You paintin' AcoustiOptics!"
I thought "What?!? I've never heard THAT word
before." He said it was about the relationship
between sound and color, and how brain perceives
the two, and I thought "Well, shit, that makes
all the sense in the world!" It started to
make sense to me all the crazy colors I'd been using.
So that was that. Then I went out and checked every
dictionary, every thesaurus, every science book,
and I could not find the word AcoustiOptics anywhere.
(Laughs.)
Cosmik: But you should lobby for it. (Laughs)
Frenchy: Oh, I'm going to! It makes all the
sense in the world. But yeah, that word was handed
over to me from Earl back in January of '97. It
was a very enlightening evening for me. Up to that
point I had maybe 30 paintings under my belt. Up
to that point, I felt it, but I couldn't put my
finger on why I was choosing these particular colors
or these backgrounds. Then here comes Earl and he
throws that word on my lap, and from then on I've
just been adding my own definition to it.
Cosmik: Having it defined and given validity
made it easier for you to do?
Frenchy: Definitely, yeah. I really had no
direction. I was just going out and painting all
the music I could, and at the end of the night going
"Wow... that was fun." Looking at the
painting and thinking "Holy shit, that's a
weird brush stroke. Why'd I do that?"
Cosmik: That's interesting. Would you say
then that before it had definition you were a bit
inhibited about it and unsure?
Frenchy: Yeah. Every painting now I get a
little more free, you know? Now it's so fluid it's...
not to use the word "easy," but... it's
without thought. It's just "whoosh," there
it is. It's like doing a continuous guitar solo
from start to finish, just laying it out there.
Cosmik: I definitely feel the energy of a
show but I've never been able to express it like
you have, even in my own mind. I wonder if the energy
vortex changes in different situations. If you go
see a band that does the same show night after night,
with the same rehearsed solos, and then the next
night you go see someone like David S. Ware or Matthew
Shipp, or anyone who creates at the moment, is the
vortex different?
Frenchy: There's a big difference, yeah,
because the music is more experimental so you never
know what the painting's going to turn up like.
I try to get into the same mindframe as the musicians
before they go on. I've meditated with the musicians
and all kinds of fun stuff. Got all juiced up. But
it's challenging for musicians who play the same
set every night for a 40-show run, but you can separate
the big dogs from the little dogs that way, because
the ones that are really into it for the love of
it, even if they're playing the same songs over
and over again, every time is different for them
and just as special, and that's true for 99% of
the touring musicians out there, even if they don't
admit it. I see it. I feel their love for the music.
There's no doubt. They wouldn't be there otherwise.
Cosmik: I'd love to be able to watch a group
like String Trio of New York through your eyes,
to see what the vortex is like when three incredible
musicians create something brand new on the fly
at high speed.
Frenchy: Yeah, well that's why we have paint.
Cosmik: You're right. (laughs)
Frenchy: (Laughs) Yeeeeah, see, how fortunate
I can slow it down.
Cosmik: It must be a trip to be at a show
and watch you in the crowd with canvas, painting
the band as they play. I'd imagine most people are
torn between watching the band they paid to see
and watching you paint the band they paid to see.
Frenchy: The best feeling in the world is
when you get done with a gig, sometimes I'm huffing
and puffing, but a lot of the people I meet get
inspired and go home and paint something, and that's
a good motivation for me to go out there and keep
painting. In the process I'm inspiring myself as
well, and everybody needs to be inspired.
Cosmik: Maybe one of the reasons people like
me are so awestruck when we see your paintings is...
when I say people like me, I mean people who can't
so much as draw a straight line, but maybe we're
so awestruck because we couldn't do that in a million
years.
Frenchy: Yeah, and I have a grand piano in
my gallery, and right now I have [Clarence "Gatemouth"
Brown's keyboardist] Joe Crown in there playing
the shit out of it, playing a bunch of Professor
Longhair and James Booker. I bang on it all the
time but I can't make no music, so I know how you
feel (laughs). I see these guys on stage, and I
wanna be up there... Well, maybe not UP there, but
playing an instrument. I dabble with a little trumpet
and a little piano, but I'm still learning how to
paint, I think, so...
Cosmik: A lot of people who can play the
hell out of an instrument would trade in a second.
Frenchy: You know, the scale is your colors.
In between notes there are turquoises and cobalt
blues and weird purples and pinks. I don't necessarily
agree with the [concept of the] musical scale, it
does sound good, but there are other sounds. Unbelievable
sounds. Endless amount of sounds that a musician
can create, I think.
Cosmik: You don't agree with playing scales
because it's limiting, like handcuffs.
Frenchy: Yeah. You're gonna paint B Flat
in a purple, and I think "No, I want to paint
that shit bright red, at least right now,"
you know? I'm a big fan of [saxophonist] Kid Jordan,
and he's all improv like Michael Ray. He gets all
"Sun Ra" and that stuff. But I like it
all. I love bluegrass, I love strings, I love piano...
I was blessed one year, I think it was '98, I got
to paint at the International Bluegrass Awards in
Louisville, Kentucky, and there were cats from Japan, Russia, and all over the world. All these kids,
I see they're in bands coming to the country now,
but they were just teenagers then. I've never seen
so many white people with soul. (Laughs.) I was
completely blown away. I was in tears walking through
the hallways, because all these musicians came out
of Kentucky and all the surrounding states and went
to this thing, and they just set up and played in
the hallway of the hotel. I mean there were three
piece bands set up in the elevators playing for
the people going up and down. It was out of the
box. This grandmother's playing standup bass 'till
five in the morning. It was fun. That ended my summer,
and I had started my summer out at the Telluride
Bluegrass Fest, so that was a damn good summer.
Cosmik:
You painted somebody who amazes me because he plays
such incredible blues and then turns around and
plays stormin' bluegrass the very next song: Gatemouth
Brown.
Frenchy: Oooh yeah. Joe Crown's Clarence's
piano and organ player, the guy who's in my gallery
right now playing my piano. He was just telling
me stories about him and Gate on the road. Gate's
fabulous, man. Still stronger than ever. He lives
on the bayou. Pulls up in his big black Cadillac,
tires screeching, it's like "Get out the way,
here comes Gate!" (Laughs.) Drives like a madman!
Cosmik: Let's go back to the beginning now,
because I want to find out what led to this. Where
were you before New Orleans, and what were you painting, because
I'm pretty sure you didn't start painting bands
right off the bat.
Frenchy: Well, I'm from Lowell,
Mass, which is Jack Kerouac's home town, the old
industrial smokestacks, canals everywhere, industrial
revolution city. Lowell
is very old, very blue collar. I grew up drawing.
I was gifted, so I could just draw stuff, which
helps me on my painting because you have subjects
moving around on stage, you've got to be able to
sketch real quick and get the figures somewhat right.
But I'm not really too concerned about the grammatics
of it all, I'm more into the flow of the whole painting,
and having fun. So here I am, this kid from Lowell,
and I move down to Orlando,
Florida, and I came across this Herman Leonard book in a book store.
Herman Leonard's a famous photographer of jazz musicians.
He grew up in New Jersey, photographed
in Harlem, then moved on to Paris,
and he's in his 70s now. These are pictures of Ella
Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington, Miles Davis as a kid,
Freddie Hubbard, everybody you can imagine. So I
had this book and I just started painting. I'd see
the emotion in these guys and I'd say, "Wow,
I wanna be there," because I grew up boxing
- my dad's an ex-professional fighter and so is
my grandfather - so I grew up with a passion for
sport...
Cosmik: I'm surprised you don't have paintings
of boxing on your site.
Frenchy:
I painting some Olympic boxing, but I gave that
to my dad.
Cosmik: So you saw a parallel?
Frenchy: When I looked at those pictures
of the jazz musicians, I saw that same look of passion
in their eyes that you see in a fighter's eyes while
he's training.
Cosmik: The hungry look.
Frenchy: Yeah, in the zone. So I painted
a bunch of pictures from this book. Then I started
selling and people started showing my work, and
then this band called Heavy Metal Horns, out of
Boston, who've broken up now, a high energy, real
funky jazz band came into Orlando to the Sapphire
Supper Club to play, and I went to hang out with
them because they were from Boston and I was from
near Boston. I ended up meeting the guys and showing
them all my photographs and paintings, and they
were like "Yeah, right ON, Dude! DUDE!,"
you know... Boston...
(laughs) "come out paint us, Dude, it'll be
awesome!" So the next night they had another
gig there and I showed up and set up on the side,
and I painted the band while they played. I'd never
done that before. Always before I'd painted in black
and white, and somber colors, and I did this painting
- and I did it in oil, to boot, because I was into
oil at the time - and I painted all these loose
forms of musicians, not real tight like everything
else I'd painted all my life, and all these wild
colors I never knew existed came out of my palette.
I went home that night and thought "Whoa, what
happened?!? That was awesome!" I basically
fell in love with it that night. That was it. I
did that, then I painted a band called City Heat,
then I painted Chuck Mangione.
Cosmik: What year was that?
Frenchy: That was October
17th, 1995, at the Pleasure Island Jazz Festival.
Cosmik: A few years before you left Orlando. What prompted you to move to New
Orleans?
Frenchy: When I was in Orlando
I waited tables, which was awesome because it gave
me a lot of free time to paint. I worked at the
Hard Rock Cafe, and all the dudes that worked there
always said "Dude, you've got to go to New Orleans." They'd all seen my art, they knew my personality,
they knew about the music here and everybody was
pushing me to come here. I had never been here before.
I was engaged at the time, too. A lot of things
changed in my life. I went to the Olympics in Atlanta and painted there, ended up meeting up with
people from The House Of Blues there. I painted
at their club in Atlanta and
they invited me to New
Orleans to an Open Door. I went back to Orlando,
broke up with my fiance, went up to Boston for about
a month, went back down to Orlando for a month,
painted like twenty gigs and sold eighteen of them,
took that money and high-tailed it to New Orleans.
My truck I had at the time, on my way back from
Boston the transmission caught on fire, so it wasn't
runnin' too good (laughs). I got it kinda Mickey-Mouse
fixed, so I couldn't drive it to New Orleans, so
I rented a Ryder truck and filled it up... well,
I had no furniture, so I just filled it with my
clothes and paintings, hooked a dolly up to the
Ryder truck and towed my own truck to New Orleans.
Cosmik: Sounds like you got there on a wing
and a prayer.
Frenchy: Yeah, it was amazing. In two weeks
I was flat broke. In about a month I was starving,
but I refused to get a job because I was determined
to make a living out of painting. I'd cut the umbilical
cord, and I couldn't hook it back up. That was it.
I was floating.
Cosmik: Ballsy move. You either make it or
die.
Frenchy: That's about it. So after a couple
nervous breakdowns, I started selling some paintings.
It's been up and down, up and down, but now I'm
more up than ever before. It really helps me feel
more empowered painting. I feel stronger, you know?
I feel supported. That's huge in any human being's
life, to have support, and that's enabling me to
do the AcoustiOptics and to do nudes and to do landscapes,
and back to things that normal painters paint, but
I see it in a totally different way. Now I look
at a tree, and it's not just a tree; it's alive.
It's a metropolis of living organisms and it's just
fascinating to me. When I paint a tree, it has
an aura. I don't see them, but I feel them.
Cosmik:
So ten painters will look at that tree and see the
same tree, but you're going to paint something completely
different because of what the tree's giving off?
Frenchy: Oh yeah. Everybody has their own
way. They go through college and they're told to
do a certain thing. I think it's impeding on art
students to have instructors telling them how to
do things the way they do them.
Cosmik: Worse yet, when they tell the students
they're doing it wrong.
Frenchy: Had some students here at the gallery
last night. We were filming a special. We were doing
some live sketches, and this one girl, she was just
like "Well, Frenchy, I don't know... I just
don't like it," and I looked at her work and
said "Dude, you're KILLING me! LOOK at this!"
She'd used a lot of dark stuff, and her stuff was
totally different from everybody elses. You know,
it was kinda rude, if you were looking at it that
way, but I looked at it like "This girl sees
things really good." She's pulling off these
great lines. I picked out a certain part of the
sketch and said "THAT is just rocking my world,"
you know? Sometimes you have to do a million sketches
just to get that one little piece of a part of a
section of a sketch right. It's just all about application
of creativity, and the more you do this, the better
you're gonna get at applying your creativity.
Cosmik: Then even if what an artist is doing
isn't really to your liking, you're able to see
what's great about it?
Frenchy: Totally.
Cosmik: I'm curious about that. If you're
painting a band that you don't particularly like,
can you still...
Frenchy: Absolutely. No problem. I painted
Rick Springfield.
Cosmik: (Laughs). No kidding? Rick Springfield?
Frenchy: That was not easy, but I did it.
All these 40 year old women were throwing roses
at him. It was weird.
Cosmik: Was there an energy vortex there
for you to feel?
Frenchy: Oh, yeah! His audience were all
these hard-core, mid-40s women who were just so
fired up to see Rick, you know?
Cosmik: Well, plus, the guy really does put
out for his audience. He works his ass off up there.
Frenchy: He does. He puts on a hell of a
performance. I was really impressed, but I'm just
not a big fan of the music. I'm there to document
a performance.
Cosmik: Have you ever documented a performance
by someone who has a darker kind of music, like
maybe...
Frenchy: The Melvins.
Cosmik: Yeah, The Melvins, or Black Sabbath?
Frenchy: Not Black Sabbath, but I've done
John Cale, Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, which...
my hand went through the canvas.
Cosmik: Did it?!
Frenchy: Yeah, well sometimes if I get a
little too riled up and I don't have my hand-eye
coordination just right, you can make a big rip
in the painting if you're going real fast.
Cosmik: And that's that for the painting.
Frenchy: So next time I paint Jon Spencer,
I'm bringing a piece of plywood. (Laughs.)
Cosmik: You're in a place where... I mean,
The Big Easy, you know? Every night you can walk
down the street and just pick a club and see someone
amazing like that. We get them one at a time everywhere
else, you have them in residence. That has to be
a playground for you.
Frenchy: It is, and it's allowed me to create
thousands of paintings. Unfortunately my arm fell
out about two years ago and I had to have an operation
on my elbow because of ligament damage from stretching
so much canvas. I stretch all my own canvas. The
last two years it's been a recurring thing, and
where I used to paint five, six nights a week, now
I'm down to about three. But it's okay, because
now I do a lot more stuff in the studio, in my gallery.
I paint right in the gallery.
Cosmik: More comfortable?
Frenchy:
I have to be here. It's my business, and it's a
dream come true to have a gallery on Royal Street in the French Quarter. On one side
I've got Chagall and Picasso and on the other side
I've got Rembrandt and Warhol and Peter Max.
Cosmik: And there you are.
Frenchy: My gallery's real different. Real
raw. None of my paintings have frames on 'em, my
gallery's real open and all color. My front right
now is all nudes and abstracts. It's pretty cool.
I'm getting ready to do a huge abstract. I'm fired
up. A 9-by-6 canvas, one big abstract painting.
I've done two that size already and they both sold
right out of the gallery within a few weeks.
Cosmik: Do you mind if I ask what something
that goes for?
Frenchy: $7,000.
Cosmik: ... Wow. That's good money!
Frenchy: (Laughs.) A lot more than I get
for the band stuff! It's so funny, because that's
something that you've gotta bring your gear out,
you gotta set up, you gotta paint, you gotta get
all into it, get dirty, get into it, and really
work at it. And with the abstract stuff, it's so...
I call it "mental masturbation," and you
can quote me on that. What I do is I just look at
the blank canvas and I'll just have black on my
palette, and I'll dip my brush in it and use my
brush as a pencil and just real gesturally do all
these shapes over the canvas, then I'll come back
in and pull out the pieces I want to use and fill
in the colors and form it. It's kind of like sculpting.
Cosmik: Make the picture come out of the
canvas. From what I hear, you're practically dancing
while you're painting.
Frenchy: That developed over the years, too,
because at first I was locked into a position painting,
and the more I got comfortable with it, the more
I started releasing. Now... I can't see what I'm
doing, but supposedly I'm starting to turn into
a little bit of a performance, too. Again, every
gig I get a little looser and a little more confident
with my brush stroke. It's fun to paint, so I'm
sure it's fun to watch.
Cosmik: What other kinds of live events have
you painted?
Frenchy: All kinds of gigs come out of this.
Conventions hire me all the time in New
Orleans to paint at the conventions, I've done wedding
receptions, NASCAR races, basketball games, I just
got back from the Winter Olympics where I did seven
events.
Cosmik: I've been looking at your Olympic
pictures a lot the past few days. Fantastic stuff.
I love the skiing and hockey paintings.
Frenchy: They were challenging. I tried to
keep the paintings true to the environment, which
means not working on them after the event. I could
go in later and tighten the shit out of them, but
then it wouldn't be a live painting from my seat.
At that point I might as well just take a photograph,
take it home and paint it and make it look really
nice, but that's not what it's all about.
Cosmik:
It was snowing hard the day of the men's slalom.
Did you work with a tent over you?
Frenchy: No, the snow wasn't really too bad
because it's just flakes. When it rains it can really
be a problem. I'd never painted in the snow, but
I did then.
Cosmik: There are a lot of great musicians,
and I mean truly great, in New
Orleans that aren't that well known elsewhere. They
have record deals and they can tour, but they deserve
bigger audiences. Walter "Wolfman" Washington, for example.
Frenchy: Oh, keep going, because there are
so many. Even like George Porter, he's not even
really that well known in the big scheme. He's well
respected here, by fans and musicians. But yeah,
there's an unbelievable gumbo full of musicians
here.
Cosmik: I look at the list of paintings and
see Wolfman, the Nevilles, Porter, The Meters and
bands like that and then I look at the paintings
and I just think... how can you even leave town?
Frenchy: It's tough, but it's like I always
leave to go meet up with some other New
Orleans musician somewhere else (laughs).
Cosmik: How do you finish a perfect
painting during a single performance when most of
us have trouble getting a decent photograph at a
concert? I mean, you start and finish in just a
few hours, if that.
Frenchy: Oh, I could do it in twenty minutes
if I had to.
Cosmik: No way!
Frenchy: Yeah. (Laughs).
Cosmik: It takes me that long to figure out
the angle I want to take the picture from.
Frenchy: Well, the background would be more
solid colors than anything, but I could definitely
get the figures done. I personally like two sets.
I like to do one set to lay it out, get the colors
going and let it all dry, come back the second set
layer over a whole 'nother painting on top of it,
you know? But you learn how to gauge yourself. I
know in my head what time it is, how many songs
have been played - especially if I already know
the set list, it's a lot easier - and if it's a
headlining band they'll play an encore of one, two
or three songs, and in that span of time I can get
a lot done.
Cosmik: With all these amazing paintings
you do, how come you don't do more prints so more
of your work can circulate?
Frenchy: Well, I hadn't really been in the
financial position or had a place to sell them out
of until now, until I got the gallery. We had to
put up a considerable amount of money. We have five
prints available now. They're all limited editions,
in the two hundreds, and they're fabulous. And you
know, it's great to sell something knowing I didn't
have to paint it. (Laughs.) It's a painting that's
actually paying itself off. Musicians, you know,
they go to a gig, they get paid at the end of the
night. I don't get paid until I sell the painting.
Sometimes I don't get paid that night, sometimes
not for a week, or a month or a year down the road,
and sometimes I don't get paid at all. The trick
was doing enough so there was a large enough body
of work so it creates a snowball effect, so something's
always moving.
Cosmik: How NOT to be a starving artist.
Rare these days. Or any days.
Frenchy: That's the secret. And having the
right people working for you, too. That'd be Jamie
and Pete, my two best friends. They take real good
care of me and I trust them one hundred percent.
Cosmik: They work in the gallery?
Frenchy: Yep.
Cosmik: I'm looking at another one of my
favorites right now, because it's so different.
It's your painting of the cooks in Jacques-Imo's
Kitchen in New
Orleans. How did you get into doing that?
Frenchy:
Well, Jacques-Imo's is right beside The Maple Leaf,
which is a music venue here in town. Every week
I'd go paint at The Maple Leaf, and the restaurant
owner would see me walk by with my easel and stuff
and he knew who I was. One day when I was walking
by he grabbed me and said "Hey, I want to commission
you to do a painting of my kitchen." So I did.
He has this big wall by his bar, and he always has
like a two-hour wait. He asked me to hang up all
my paintings there, so boom! That was a huge avenue
for me. I had done paintings of two other chefs
before then, then I did that one just last summer.
But Jacques actually asked me to paint his line
while they're cooking, because it's just like
a band, all working in sequence and rhythm and makin'
people happy. It's a great combination. Now I've
painted Commander's Palace, Clancy's, Delta Grill
in New York City. I want to do more stuff, though. Eventually I want to
do a whole collection of New Orleans chefs from different kitchens, and we're going to make
a coffee table book out of it, with a recipe from
each chef and the story of each of their restaurants.
Cosmik: What a great idea! And probably easy
to arrange.
Frenchy: Yeah, because everybody gets a little
plug, so everybody's happy.
Cosmik: Is that anywhere close on the horizon?
Frenchy: Not yet. It's going to take a lot
of organization. We're just getting geared up for
our French Quarter coming up, and then we've got
the Jazz Festival, and then I'll be taking off for
the summer.
Cosmik: What's the plan for the jazz festival?
Frenchy: Well, every year I just go out there,
pick a spot on the lawn, pitch my easel, throw a
blanket, you know...
Cosmik: I heard a rumor that you might be
painting from the stage at some point, as the guest
of at least one artist.
Frenchy: Yeah, there are some options. A
lot of times the bands think to bring me up on stage
with them to paint, but we don't have anything set
in stone yet with anybody. James Andrews wants me
up there with him, Papa Grows Funk wants me up there,
but we'll see...
Cosmik: Hmmm... You sound kind of hesitant
about that.
Frenchy:
Ahhh... I really enjoy being in the crowd at the
festivals. I dig it. But it would be nice
to get the perspective from the monitors, you know?
Catch the sides of the musicians and then just the
sea of people. That would be pretty cool.
Cosmik: It would be interesting to see the
vortex enveloping the crowd.
Frenchy: Ooooh yeah.
Cosmik: I love this painting from Yankee
Stadium, too. It's different from everything else.
I'm a serious baseball freak, though, so that's
a clue.
Frenchy:
It's more like a landscape study of Yankee Stadium.
That was my first ballgame I went to, when I painted
that. Madison Square Garden Network put me on TV.
"Frenchy's doing a painting in the stadium..."
It was great. My friends are calling me up screaming
"DUDE!!! YOU'RE ON TV, MAN!!! MSG!!!"
(Laughs.) And the Redsox were playing, but they
lost.
Cosmik: Oooh, right! You're a Boston
boy! (Laughs.)
Frenchy: (Laughs.) That's okay, I got to
see the Patriots win in New
Orleans. That was remarkable.
Cosmik: Are you a baseball fan?
Frenchy: I'm a fan of all sports.
Cosmik: Then don't you think you have a responsibility
to do a painting in Fenway before it's gone?
Frenchy: Definitely. (Pauses.) Definitely...
Aw, man, I don't wanna think about that.
Cosmik: Yeah, I know, it's a religious thing.
Frenchy: It's a beautiful park, man. The
seats are steep so you're right over the field,
and it's old and... I don't know.
Cosmik: Sacred. You have to paint it.
Frenchy: Yeah.
Cosmik: Well I've really enjoyed talking
to you. I just have one more question for you, and
it goes back to something we talked about earlier,
and that's the fact that most painters don't have
success until they've been dead for something like
sixty years, yet here you are, you're already known,
people love your work, you're living large, you
have a gallery in the right spot, people want you
to paint them and life is good. Do you ever just
reflect on all and think about how fortunate you
are, that you get to enjoy it all?
Frenchy:
Every day. I'm very blessed. I came from a lower-middle
class family, grew up in tenements, had food stamps,
fighting my way out of the neighborhoods. I come
into the gallery floating, because I'm living a
dream, and I'm fully aware of it. In order to get,
you must give. I'm definitely a giver, not a taker,
so as long as I keep giving I know good things will
continue to happen. I just try to give as much as
I can. I try not to get caught up in everything
that's happening because it's rather overwhelming,
you know? You don't want to jinx yourself, you just
want to keep your head down and keep working. But
it's nice to come up for air once in a while and
see how people are reacting to the paintings. And
it's very flattering to do interviews, over the
phone or in person. I'm just blown away.