Four and a half years ago I was beginning to develop my collage painting process. Newly retired, I was eager to proceed but not too sure which direction to go. Being an educator, I thought a class might be the right place to start. I signed up to take a class with Greg Storer, an artist I have admired for many years and a colleague of my husband, Mark. (not to mention a former Buckeye who played for non other than Woody Hayes) After working for a few months with Greg he decided to open a studio in Northside and sponsored an exhibit of student work. I elected to show a piece that I had just completed- not something from class. Little did I know at the time, it was a decision that would change everything. On the way to the show I told Mark that I was tired of beating my head into the wall and maybe I should just “get a job in a bank”, and give up this crazy and difficult process. During the show Greg came over and told me someone wanted to meet me. He said she was an important person in the art world of Cincinnati and I should feel honored that she wanted to meet me. The lady was Pam Kirchner. She was the painting curator at the Cincinnati Art Galleries. She told me that night that she really liked my new process and that “I was on to something”. She offered to mentor me and invited me to visit the gallery as soon as I could. I took her up on her most generous offer and visited her many times for critiques. Panera salads and Diet Sprites were my only repayment of this precious time. One day I asked Pam if she thought I would ever show at the Cincinnati Art Galleries. She thoughtfully replied, “You aren’t ready… give it about 5 years.”
Little did I know at the time, our visits would soon end. Sadly, Pam died. I was not family, or one of her closest friends-I was just a blip on her radar. She did make me feel important and special when we talked. Her death was a huge loss to me as well as the art world of Cincinnati. I still wonder if I adequately expressed my gratitude to her for saving me from a retirement of cashing people’s checks and boredom. Her words are in my sketchbooks as well as in my heart.
Yesterday I received a phone call from PJ Grimm, assistant to my friend and mentor Daniel Brown. (I would not have met Daniel if not for Pam inspiring me to enter that first piece in a juried exhibit that was judged by Daniel) PJ called at Daniel’s request to invite me to participate in a show at the Cincinnati Art Galleries in March. It is a group show of contemporary still life paintings. Imagine my reaction- grateful to Daniel for including me, and also emotional because by the time of the show- Pam’s prediction would come true. FIVE YEARS. Five years of hard work, ups and downs, growth and confidence building. Pam’s words echo in my head. When I am really stuck- What would Pam say? Wow. I am humbled by the thought that perhaps she knows and is proud too.
This is the piece that started it all. “Hydrangeas”, which is always included on my website as a tribute to Pam. Maybe its owner will let us borrow it for the exhibit.
Hi Susan. I’m Pam’s son, Zak. Thanks for sharing this story and congrats on your CAG show! Although we never discussed your work, I’m sure you were not just a blip on her radar. Where ever she is, she’s definitely proud of you and smiling ear to ear over your accomplishments. I’ve shared this post with my Sister and her cousins on Facebook. I’ll also make sure her Mother gets a chance to read it as well when I come in for Thanksgiving. It can be easy to think that the rest of the world has forgotten about her besides my Sister and I, so I really appreciate the reminder that her legacy still lives on in the friends she made along the way. Best of luck to you and I hope your work continues to grow and garner more recognition.
Hi Susan. I’m Pam’s first husband; I greatly enjoyed your story about Pam and her influence on you. Pam and I used to reunite occasionally to touch base with each other and stay up-to-date,but I hadn’t seen or heard from her in quite awhile.
When I visited my sister in Cincinnati in July to celebrate our father’ 90th birthday, as well as my sister’s 60th, I was talking to one of my sister’s best friends and classmates at Greenhills High. I mentioned something to him about Pam and how long it had been since I had heard from her. He got a funny look on his face and told me his younger brother was best friends with Pam’s youngest brother, Kirk, and that some one in the family had passed away the year before. I told him I was aware Pam’s father, Robert, had passed, but was unaware of anyone else in the family.
A little later, he came up to me, told me he had called to check with his mother, and that Pam had passed, from he believed, breast cancer. I almost fell over from the combined shock and sadness, and cursed myself for not staying in better touch with her (I had forgotten her second husband’s name was Kirchner).
I had been aware of her rise in the Cincy art scene, and was proud of her achievements, and couldn’t believe she had been taken from us at such a young age.
Pam had a lifelong interest and talent in art. While we were living in North Carolina, she had begun working in collage and decoupage, and had completed a couple of pieces which were on the walls of our home. I told her they were impressive for first efforts, and she might think about doing something with the art form. But with the passing of the years I had forgotten about it until I read your remembrance of her. Since learning of her death, I have been doing web searches using her name and came across your entry; my love and respect for her have only increased. I’m glad she was such an inspiration for you, and I am sure, for others.
We have all been diminished by the loss of Pam, but she will live on in the hearts and memories of those she touched. I hope Zak, Ariel, June, Lee, Kirk and Mindy (her mother and brothers & sister) know those of us who knew and loved her will never forget her.
As Zak wrote, her legacy will live on in people like you and I, who were privileged to have spent some time with her.
Good luck, and continue with your work.