“Artists of the World Unite!”
A Mort Laitner Short Story
Taking a break from watching movies at the fourth annual Flagler International Film Festival, Shelley and I decide to drive the coastline. Our film, “The Stairs” will be shown tonight in the Palm Coast Hilton. For those of you who are planning on attending a film festival, let me warn you, watching too many movies can wear you down.
So we are driving north in Flagler County, cruising at a touristic 35 mph on A1A. We’re enjoying the colors of the sky touching the Atlantic. We hear the crashing of the white-crested waves pounding the shore; then watch them crawl up the beach. Seagulls, sandpipers and the pelicans glide across the sky. This tableau is a painting of paradise—a postcard from heaven.
As I drive, I whistle to “Younger Girl” by the Lovin’ Spoonful. The soundtrack of my life seems to be on high fidelity. I have just met Hall of Fame Inductee, Steve Boone, who was one of the members of the Spoonful at the Flagler International Film Festival. I buy his book and CD. Artists have a duty to support one another and I loved The Spoonful since college.
I spot a plain hand-painted sign on the west side of the road that reads: Art Gallery. I’m driving a tad too fast to make the turn on North Ocean Shore Boulevard, so I decide I’ll stop on my way back.
As I drive, I picture Henry Flagler, with his wavy white mustache, driving on this same road. Smelling the same salt air. As he drives, he plans on building a railroad all the way down to Key West. He has already built a number of magnificent hotels along this coastline. A hundred years after they were built these Flagler hotels are considered national treasures. Henry envisions a Floridian paradise filled with tourists.
We are those tourists, now headed South on A1A. I pull into the driveway of the Art LaMay Studio— a Gallery in the Hammock. The one I missed on the way up this majestic road. The one with the hand-painted sign.
I am an art lover but I have never heard of LaMay. I scan his studio. He is obsessed with birds. Gulls, pipers and pelicans line his walls. He like Audubon, paints birds in their natural habitat. He is master watercolor artist—a modern-day Audubon. His art belongs in museums. It already is.
And lo and behold, he is seated before me painting a crane. I am honored to be in his presence. He should be good because he has been painting birds for 43 years. Here is a national treasure just like the coastline that runs parallel to his studio. (Note to Flagler County Commission—Time to start appropriating funds for the construction of a LeMay Art Museum)
As a ten-year-old, lying on my bed, I obsessed on a book of John James Audubon avian prints. Audubon’s ability to paint white-crested feathers atop the heads of egrets blew me away. I read how his goal was to paint all the birds that inhabited North America. In his magnum opus, entitled Birds of America he painted 497 of them. (In 2011, a copy of Birds of America sold for $11.5 million.) He was such a keen observer of America’s flora and fauna that even the King of England bought his paintings.
LeMay’s watercolors brought me back to my youth, to my home and to my bed. The power of art blows me away.
I remember the 1940 first day cover, 1¢ U.S. stamp bearing a portrait of Audubon’s with large mutton-chops and a picture of a robin. In 1985, I recall placing the 22¢ U.S. stamp honoring Audubon in my album. He was part of the Great American series. There was also a 37¢ stamp in the American Treasures series with four tanagers painted on it. In 1963 there was a 5¢ U.S. Audubon stamp in the famous American artist series.
The post office has printed more Audubon stamps—but enough is enough. Who knew one artist could get his face and birds on so many stamps.
I have visited Oakley Plantation in Feliciana Parish, Louisiana. Audubon lived and painted there; some of his works of art grace the plantation walls. I have strolled through the Audubon House & Tropical Gardens examining the Audubon’s 22 bird paintings of the Florida Keys.
Well now I am six hours north of the upper Keys, talking to a modern-day Audubon.
Mort: Mr. LeMay, I’m Mort Laitner and I love your watercolors. It is a pleasure to meet you.
Art: Mort, thanks for the compliment. (LeMay keeps dabbing his brush into the pigment and coloring in the outlined crane)
Mort: I think your as good as James Audubon. And as a kid I’ve had a book of his prints, collected his stamps and visited two of the homes he lived in.
Art: Thanks again for the kind words. Well, did you know Audubon made his own paints out of nature’s own harvest.
Mort: I had no idea. But did you know that I’m also an artist.
Art: What type of artist?
Mort: I’m a writer. I have written three books and produced a movie entitled, “The Stairs.” It has been accepted by 21 film festivals and has been shown in seven countries around the world. Here is my business card. My movie is being shown tonight at the Flagler International Film Festival. So far all the movies we have seen at the festival have all been first class. I think you and your wife would enjoy my film. The festival is at the Hilton Gardens in Palm Coast and it starts at 8:30 tonight.
Art: Mort, it’s been fun talking to you. Enjoy your stay in town. Hope you win an award. (We shake hands and Art starts concentrating on painting.)
On the way out, Shelley decides to buy a “giclee” print from Art’s wife, Bonnie. (Look it up. I did.)
9:30 pm—Flagler International Film Festival—Hilton Gardens— all of the drama movies have been shown. It is time for audience questions. I and about five other directors, producers, and writers take the stage for some Q&A.
I take the mike, look into the audience and lo and behold, I see Art and Bonnie LeMay. They are sitting in the third row.
A smile breaks out across my face. Later Art says, “Mort, I enjoyed your film.”
I reply, “Thanks Art.”
I leave the room feeling like a national treasure.
