“My dad died when I was 14 and he was 55. He drove a gasoline truck which he hated and he played golf which he loved. Golf made everything else ok. I decided early on that I was going to find something I loved to do. In college, by happenstance, I discovered painting. Painting connected me to my everyday life as well as to all the painters that came before me. Probably because of my dad I paint everyday people, people I like and feel an emotional connection to. I also paint scenes that I find interesting and try to make them a little bit more wonderful, actually I try to make everything a little bit more wonderful”
Thomas Brady Artist Statement
On a chilly morning, I stand off to the side, color pastels and sketchbook in hand; people are huddled, waiting and watching; cabbies sip coffee; black suits rush by. The bus pulls up, the old guy stands, cane leading, he moves in line to board. The bus, the line, the man and the cane create the moment, and my frantic drawing begins.
In the studio with fifty colors and just as many brushes, music blaring, I attack the painting. All at once, creation in a moment, cover all the canvas, mark against mark, movement and counter movement, yellow always yellow, gobs of white, cans of turpentine, piles of rags. Paint over paint, colors upon colors makes new colors, sensuous and gestural. What are the essentials, what is real, what is important, what is true?
Two processes are intricately related, the initial inspiration of the street pastel and the physical transformation of the image into paint. These are simple processes as long as you are willing to throw out forty of the fifty initial pastels and from the few that are really are inspirational, willing to make fifty new preparatory drawings. Then you paint for 50 years, hope and pray and with a little luck, the culmination of the processes has magically taken on a life of its own.