|
|||||||
 |
|||||||
|
|||||||
|
|
|
The Artist Who Fell to Earth In the 1980s, the New York City art world was as hot as the nosecones of the space shuttles, and the handsome young painter Chuck Connelly emerged as one of its star-kissed sons. He sold a million dollars’ worth of work during that decade, including a piece to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It was close-ups of Connelly’s juicy brushstrokes that appeared in scenes from the film New York Stories (1989) when Nick Nolte’s chara Not bad for a blue-collar kid from Pittsburgh. But by 1990 Connelly’s career had crashed. The reasons for his blistering fall from grace is excruciatingly clear to anyone watching The Art of Failure, an HBO documentary about Connelly and his work, which has its premier at the Bantam Cinema on June 14. (The film airs on HBO July 7 at 9 p.m.) The screening precedes the opening reception for the Connelly exhibition at New Arts Gallery (June 7-July 14). The film, by Jeff Stimmel, documents Connelly’s talent for both painting and self-immolation. Connelly soliloquizes at Andy Warhol’s grave, hires an actor to impersonate him, and (more than once) lurches about his studio, beer in hand, railing against anyone he feels has sold out. In one of the film’s interviews, a gallery owner recounts how Connelly publicly lambasted New York Stories, sealing his reputation as an ingrate. “That was the end of Chuck Connelly,” she says. Or was it? The Art of Failure makes clear that the 53-year-old Connelly, now self-exiled to Philadelphia, is trying to stage a comeback. With a body of work numbering more than 3,000 pieces, he has plenty to show for the past two decades. According to Stimmel, Connelly hopes that the film and the show at New Arts will help re-launch his stalled career. Stimmel, like his subject, hails from Steel City, where he started out working on the TV show “Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood.” This is his first feature-length film, culled from more than 300 hours of footage New Arts Gallery owner and artist Tony Carretta agrees. “We see a lot of great paintings, and these fall into the master zone,” he says. “His painting is entirely without gimmick, which many artists relied on to get attention, especially at the time when Connelly was first being seen in New York. He’s a genius of the brushstroke—a pure painter.” The fact that Connelly appears to have his finger stuck on “self-destruct” doesn’t alarm Carretta: “The majority of artists go through huge struggles just to be seen, so this story is common. The work was our prime focus, and it was exceptionally strong.” The show comprises 21 pieces spanning Connelly’s career and ranging in size from 60 x 68 inches to 24 x 36 inches. “What’s hard to capture on film is the dynamic, three-dimensional surface of the paintings,” Carretta says. “There’s a physicality to the work—it’s about the act of painting, an energy you can experience only while standing in front of it.” Stimmel previewed the film for Connelly before the Litchfield County screening. “He was a little uncomfortable, but he felt it was honest, and with him, that’s most important,” Stimmel says. “I don’t think he cared for the title at first, but he’s grown to like it.” By Jane Roy Brown |
cter worked at his canvas.
. The project began in 2002, when he met Connelly’s sister at The New York Times television division, and she introduced the two men. Initially fascinated with the vagaries of the art world, Stimmel shifted his focus to Connelly’s life and work, filming him for about five years. “When he’s not drinking, he’s kind of lovable, and he’s a great artist,” Stimmel says.