These started out as one big painting. My father was working toward a solo show, and was being even more discerning than usual about what was acceptable to offer for sale. This one had not made the cut because of the way the compositional elements had come together, and he had set it aside, thinking to work on it again after a break or, if it proved “too troubling to salvage,” until he could work up the strength to destroy it. He had even removed the canvas from the stretchers because he needed that width for something else he was working on, didn’t have any that size in his work room, and didn’t want to wait until he could get some more to start on the new picture. So this one was rolled up in that room.
My husband and I were visiting at that time with our two dogs. One of them was still young, and full of energy. He discovered the canvas, dragged it into the studio and started shaking it. My father looked over and declared, “go ahead, Kiko, do me the favor of destroying that failure.” But then he noticed that the dog had managed to fold the work over in such a way that a new, smaller, composition appeared. It was all produce, square, and terrific! So my father grabbed it away from Kiko, spread it out on his model stand and started marking it off with masking tape. He eventually determined that two smaller paintings could be cut from original. They are the two you see here. He deemed both not only good enough to release for sale, but even for the solo show roster, where they were snapped up on opening night. Kiko earned his keep that day.
