Studio Visit: Robert Tharsing

Inside art with Institute 193

by Chase Martin

When I arrive at Robert Tharsing’s house, he’s drinking a glass of orange juice in the backyard, a serene space almost entirely occupied by the studio compound he shares with his wife, Ann Tower, and their daughter, Lina. Three attractively-designed clapboard buildings (two separate studio spaces and a wood shop) are arranged around a gravel courtyard, where a fountain trickles into a pool teeming with mottled fish. From the sidewalk, you’d never know it was there.

Tharsing is calm and soft-spoken. His workspace, lit by three well-placed skylights, is cluttered with supplies and art books. A thin tendril of smoke rises from a cigar balanced on the edge of a table. Dexter, the dog, is lolling in the sunshine not far from a small portrait of himself. “We’ve had this space for about 8 years,” Tharsing tells me. “I visualized my studio as a compound like this, but when I was getting close to retirement [he worked at the University of Kentucky for 31 years], we had to decide whether to move or stay in Kentucky. Ann wanted to leave, but I said, if we stay, I can turn the backyard into Shangri-La, and she gave in.”

Canvases are everywhere—his own work and his daughter’s—and an overhead loft is crammed with more. Tharsing keeps a rigorous schedule, usually coming into the studio at 9 o’clock each day to paint in 5 hour stretches, pausing to rest in between. Diagnosed with cancer several years ago, his sickness may have decreased his stamina, but it hasn’t affected his enthusiasm, or his determination to produce art. For his current show, now on display at the Ann Tower Gallery, he made about 20 large paintings and about twice as many smaller works, and he is often working on several canvases at once.

His newest pieces are dominated by the theme of riotously colorful tree leaves. “Kentucky definitely informs my work,” he says, “It shows up literally in landscapes, of course, but also in more subtle ways. I looked down one day and realized just how many different kinds of leaves there are here. There must be a hundred species of trees just in my neighborhood—magnolia, gingko, maple. The diversity is really astounding, and that shows up in the paintings.”

Tharsing’s recent body of work is characterized by sylvan imagery, of course, but also a rich layering of colors and textures. He’s created naturalistic landscapes and vibrant abstractions in the backgrounds of these pieces, which peek out from behind the tapestries of brilliant leaves he’s painted over top. The results are canvases that pulsate with shifting, multifaceted energy. Some of the paintings are constructed over geometric grids, recalling his earlier abstract work; others retain only a vague grid structure, embellished with snippets of shadowy backdrop to form dazzling, quilt-like pictures. On the whole, they showcase a range of styles—a testament to Tharsing’s impressive productive energy—and owe a debt to the organic diversity of the Bluegrass State.

It’s not just Kentucky’s natural beauty that inspires him. “What I like most about living here,” he says, “is the people…the deeply rooted relationships people build. You don’t get that in most other parts of the country. That’s part of why it’s so nice to have the wood shop in the compound, we can offer it for friends to use…as a community type of thing.”

However, Tharsing also values his privacy. He and his family keep a home on an island in Nova Scotia (which he built himself), where he spends about 4 months out of the year. “You have to take a boat to get to the house, so if I don’t want you there, you’re not coming,” he chuckles. “It’s a totally different natural beauty from Kentucky, but it shows up a lot in my work too.”

Reminders of Nova Scotia are indeed everywhere: the house is full of furniture and sculptures Tharsing crafts from driftwood he finds on the beach there, vacation photos cover the refrigerator, and an unfinished canvas on the wall of his studio depicts his wife and daughter at a table, the Nova Scotia coastline curving behind them.

Maybe it’s just the perfect spring weather, but I don’t really want to leave the compound when the interview’s over. Tharsing really has created an isolated “Shangri-La” in his backyard. God knows Dexter is one lucky dog.

Tharsing’s work will be on display at Ann Tower Gallery through June 6. The gallery is located in the Downtown Arts Center, 141 East Main Street. Ann Tower is closed Mondays but open Tuesday-Saturday from 10:00 AM to 5:00 PM and Sundays from 10:00 AM to 4:00 PM. You can contact the gallery by phone, 859-425-1188.

This article and others can be found at the Institute 193 blog-site, www.institute193.org/blog