Does That Make Sense?—an exquisite exhibition of Marshall Arisman’s rare prints, drawings and paintings—is a testament to how his legacy resonates. I urge you to see it at SVA’s Gramercy Gallery (209 E. 23rd St., New York City). The work is for sale to benefit Arisman’s scholarship fund. Here is my preface to the exhibition keepsake.
Marshall Arisman was the soul of the School of Visual Arts—its conscience and compass and trickster and conjurer, an artist who inspired others to find themselves, as he found himself, in their own way and time through their own means.
Although his heart stopped suddenly one sunny spring morning, his aura continues to glow.
His legacy is not his large body of work but the rays of light shining through that work, from monumental canvases to ephemeral scraps and sketches.
He left visionary remains, reflecting life from the inside out and the outside in.
Marshall defined an essence that was by association synonymous with SVA. This mysterious quality was not something he could turn off and on at will—he was vessel and vehicle. Everyone wanted to have a piece of Marshall inside themselves. The lucky ones still do.
During Marsh’s long (but not long enough) career as artist and educator, he enabled his students to find their talents and make their necessary mistakes. He cast a spell over those who were in his orbit. His wisdom was never laden with typical platitudes, but rather insights communicated through actions, which first and foremost were in his work.
Marshall showed by example that there were learned methods to release the positive and negative feelings that comprise the soul. He never forced them on anyone. He never drowned us in homilies from the pulpit of art, but instead used art to grapple with (and accept) recurring demons. Even his most caustic images reassured rather than carped.
The work in this exhibition is not the “best of …” Rather, some of it is lesser-known pieces that he kept to himself and a few others “to amuse myself.” I can see him now, looking down on the work from wherever he’s hanging out, and hear that recognizable sarcastic Arisman snicker.