Martin Kitzel

Acknowledgement to my Teachers:

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To Harvey Brockley, my high school art teacher, who provide early encouragement, and who took me to museums on his own time, told me that indeed art was a career path that I should consider. Were he alive today, I would apologize for not listening his advice, and beg him to forgive my lack of confidence.

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To J. Cole Young, artist extraordinaire, who basically invented a work study position so that I might afford tuition, and saw a passion in me. With his feet up on his desk, a curl of smoke coming from the corner of his mouth, he exhaustedly exclaimed, “what are you waiting for?” I did go on to art school Cole, I became an excellent draftsmen and a solid painter, if only you lived long enough for me reconnect with you to express my gratitude. Your voice booms when I lift the brush. I can only dream of nearing your abilities, though for you, I will never stop trying.

 

To Frank Eckmier, who allowed me to unleash visions tempered by craft, a gift he so willingly shared.

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To Bill Shields, who pulled me from the weeds, and reminded me that illustration and art are not so different, and definitions are profoundly useless in the act of making anything. I still frequent your old neighborhood, if only you were still around so I could share.

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To Bill Sanchez, to restored in me an enthusiasm for relation to the viewer, and reminding me everyday, like all theses other gentlemen who occupy the pantheon of my mind, I get to decide what they see and don’t see, the power is mine alone.