Old-Fashioned Artist

"In Chicago nobody seems to care about many things connected with taste," says Ohio-born Artist Francis Chapin. But reservations about his fellow citizens' esthetic sensibilities have not kept Artist Chapin, 51, from spending most of the last 30 years in & around Chicago. By last week, Chicago had repaid his perseverance by awarding his bright, breezy Black Bull top painting honors and a $750 purse at the Art Institute's big 54th Annual Show.

Sketched on a Mexican vacation last year, Chapin's bullfight scene was a far cry from his better-known studies of Chicago's garish, soot-covered landmarks and blistering, blustering street scenes. But its brilliant colors and on-the-spot realism were laid on with the same bright and accurate brush that had long since brought him into the front ranks of Mid-Western artists.

Dingy Flats. What brought gawky (6 ft. 5 in.) Francis Chapin to Chicago as an art student in the first place was a conviction that the East, for all its galleries, dealers and big reputations, was dangerous for a painter's individuality. At Chicago's Art Institute "an artist had more chance to develop his own style," was not likely to be turned into a picayune Picasso or "little Kuniyoshi."

Chapin stayed on to teach at the Institute. Following his rule of "painting whatever I have around me" ("I'm oldfashioned. I like to paint from nature"), he soon showed that he could ferret out color in a row of dingy flats, uncover excitement on a deserted street corner.

Woolen Socks. Two years ago, after nearly two decades as an art instructor, Chapin gave up teaching to try what few artists west of New York have succeeded in achieving: supporting his wife and daughters (aged 14 and 16) by his painting. Now he spends his mornings working in his North Side studio, his afternoons prowling the Chicago streets in search of subjects. Setting up his easel on sidewalks or in alleyways, he is used to the curious onlookers that gather, once disposed of a bothersome crowd by filling a big brush with water, swinging it casually over his shoulder to spatter the kibitzers. On cold winter jaunts he protects his hands from the bitter Lake Michigan wind by wearing woolen socks on them while painting.

So far Chapin has had no reason to regret his decision. With an occasional portrait commission on the side, he has managed to support himself from his rambles through the big-city jungles. And returns from the Black Bull, which has been sold to the Chicago Athletic Association for $900, should keep the family going for a little while longer. "In this work," Chapin says philosophically, "three months is about as far ahead as you can plan. All I hope is that things work out so that I can keep on as I am."

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