University of Virginia Library

Inmate Art Classes, Inspiration By Van Gogh

By MARION RITTER

"No matter how small your
physical world becomes, the
possibilities of creativity are
enormous," Eugene
Markowski, Associate Prof. of
Art, told his small group of
students at their first meeting.
Four sessions later, they were a
lively, unself-conscious bunch.
And they were pretty typical -
all in their early 20's,
long-haired, wearing jeans and
tee-shirts.

The first student came
loping up the stairs and landed
in a chair with his legs dangling
over the back. He kicked his
bare feet with excitement as he
rapidly fired questions about
the day's class. Another came
in with two of his sculptures,
which he wanted to talk about.

If it weren't for the bars on
the windows, you could forget
this class is held in a jail.

***

Many stories about inmates
include depressing details
about their fate and the bland
reality of their existence.

But not this time. Because
the few hours that Mr.
Markowski spends at the city
jail every other week with
Linda Kennard, a local artist, is
a positive experience for the
inmates. They ask endless
questions, laugh and talk about
themselves with more freedom
than most students "out here"
do. Maybe because it means
more "in there."

When a member of the
Second Street Gallery first
suggested the idea of teaching
art to the inmates, Mr.
Markowski recalled the year
that he taught at a high school
in one of the worst ghetto
areas of D.C.

Techniques

It involved a lot more than
teaching techniques or
theories, because the students
wanted to bring their whole
lives to bear on the classroom
experience. For this quiet,
soft-spoken teacher, it was an
emotional drain, and yet he
remarked, "I would chalk that
up as the most valuable
teaching experience I've ever
had. There were
disappointments and triumphs
all the time."

Working through Wayne
Shannon, OAR director, Mr.
Markowski and Mrs. Kennard
met with Sheriff Pace to
discuss the potential of an art

CD/Arthur Laurent

The Students Seem To Sense No Barriers Between Them And Their Artist Friends

class for the inmates. With his
permission, they went through
the jail and sought out
interested students.

About seven or eight men
responded. During the first
meeting, the two artists just
talked with their students,
trying to earn their confidence.
They were told nothing about
the inmates' pasts. "We don't
pry or anything like that," Mr.
Markowski explained. "As we
sit there, they talk to us."

Fringe Of Society

Artists have always lived on
the fringe of society, and today
they are an elitist group. But
Mr. Markowski wanted his
special students to see the
artist in a different light, one
they could stand in an identify
with.

So he brought two books of
art to show to the inmates.
One was a collection of work
Van Gogh did while in an
asylum, and the other
contained work that Jackson
Pollock did under psychiatric care Mr.
Markowski also told them of
the taunts society has aimed at
the "abnormal" artist.
"I explained to them that
artists are individuals," he said.

After that first meeting, the
class began to work, with
confidence and expectation on
the part of student and teacher
alike. Now at every session
they work with a different
technique or medium.

Silence in the class is an
exception. "They ask a lot of
questions about what it's like
out here," Mr. Markowski
noted. When he told them that
he worked at the University,
they wanted to know what
building he taught in, how he
gets there and what street it is
on. "They're very interested in
landmarks," Mr Markowski
said. "It's their way of getting
out here."

Laughter is a pleasant
sound anywhere and in a jail
more so. But their humor has a
strange twist to it. It always
involves their humorless
situation.

For example, when I asked
one inmate if he likes to read,
he told me that he had read
200 books while in jail for a
year. When asked what type of
book he likes, he replied, "Law
books." It took a second to
sink in, and then it wasn't as
funny.

After just four sessions, it's
hard to tell where the class will
go. But Mr Markowski and Mrs.
Kennard have had a glimpse of
the potential of such a class for
the students. On June 11, their
work will be shown in one of
the rooms of the Second Street
Gallery. Cablevision will be
broadcasting a pre-filmed panel
discussion on the prison work
with both teachers and a
psychiatrist on June 17 for
"Sketchbook."

According to the students,
there is only one deficiency to
the class. It meets every other
week, and they want it every
day. As one student expressed
it, "I like the talking best." The
students seem to sense no
barrier between themselves and
their artist-friends.

* * *

"I will not listen to a
conqueror preaching to the
conquered."

K. Gibran

We're not trying to be some
goody two-show people doing
social work," Mr. Markowski
had commented as we were
driving to the city jail on an
exquisite, sunny afternoon.

I felt a little relieved.
Teaching art to felons might be
an art professor's way of
getting those brownie points
in. But there is a sincerity and
unfeigned realness in the
empathy that Mr. Markowski
and Mrs. Kennard show. It's in
the way they view their class.
For to them, the students are
not prisoners: they are men
who are in prison.