I’m a cantankerous, semi-agoraphobic painter who has lived in New Orleans for the last 11.5 years. I grew up in Vermont and California, and developed my own cryptic drawing style in class instead of taking notes. I became a professional artist when I moved here, taunted into painting proper pictures in the animist, chaotic atmosphere of Barrister’s Gallery, and through the dark humor and encouragement of its proprietor, Andy Antippas. I draw from memory or from imagination because I’m terrible at drawing from life. My paintings became a chain of stories, in an evolving language, rather than direct representation of what I see and experience: friends, street life, architecture, events, sentiments, books and movies I love…. | ![]() |
Myrtle von Damitz III
I’m a cantankerous, semi-agoraphobic painter who has lived in New Orleans for the last 11.5 years. I grew up in Vermont and California, and developed my own cryptic drawing style in class instead of taking notes. I became a professional artist when I moved here, taunted into painting proper pictures in the animist, chaotic atmosphere of Barrister’s Gallery, and through the dark humor and encouragement of its proprietor, Andy Antippas. I draw from memory or from imagination because I’m terrible at drawing from life. My paintings became a chain of stories, in an evolving language, rather than direct representation of what I see and experience: friends, street life, architecture, events, sentiments, books and movies I love, and warped versions of superficial symbolism work themselves into a new life.
Now and then I give in to the excitement of the extraordinarily vibrant and diverse visual art world in New Orleans. This year, I worked with a group of dedicated sculptors, craftsmen, and programmers to curate the first annual Automata show, an exhibition of kinetic sculpture. I’m collaborating with members of the New Orleans Airlift on an ambitious project alongside the artist Swoon, transforming blighted houses into temporary wonderlands. Curator Claire Tancons and I are developing a project reflecting the deep ties between New Orleans and Haiti, trying to help artists find ways to rebuild after the catastrophic earthquake. Nina Nichols and I, along with the scientist Eben Kirksey, are planning the next Multispecies Salon, an interdisciplinary anthropological/biological/arts exhibition to coincide with presentations at the American Anthropological Association convention in New Orleans this November. We’ll display these projects in spaces throughout the St. Claude Arts District.
There is a theme to all of these projects external to being a hermit painter that draws me to them—the more dynamic arenas of art are not phenomena in isolation; they are fundamental aspects of community, and interconnected with every discipline—they can draw together disparate personalities and ideas into a society, and help us adapt to chaos and change. I cannot wait to lock the door and be a hermit again, but I am grateful to be forced to be part of the world.