My grandfather William G. Gallaher was the painter in our family, and though I never had a chance to know him in my adult life, I have always felt an intimate connection with him through his work (perhaps the reason I became a painter). But it was my grandmother that shared with me his many talents that remained hanging in her house. Growing up I would spend weekends at my grandmother's little house, just hangin' out and discovering the wonders of her mystical property shrouded in oak trees and hideouts to be discovered.
Alice Gallaher was a grade school teacher in her day, who loved learning. My sister reminded me on the phone recently, how she remembers everything was always about learning with grandma. This struck me in a peculiar way, maybe because I too am now a teacher, and I began to be reminded of all the things she did teach me that I never really thought about but somehow still remember. The little things in childhood that we hold on to in a distant memory, almost a dream-like place. There were some very clear specifics too, like her mannerisms, the way she spoke, paused, breathed, hobbled along, hummed a crackly tune. They are the wonderful nuances that we carry very deep in our memories and hearts throughout our lives, and even after theirs...
My grandmother was a crafts person, she collected, always widdling away at something, some project, a book, some music on the piano, a church program. Never anything fancy, or even noticed, but steady, steady the way grandmothers are in our lives. Almost like she could spend hours alone just noodling away in her own little world, cozy and safe. I remember her always showing me her latest painted-china piece she had been working on, or digging through an old closet way in the back to find some little puzzle we could work on together. Letting me explore and discovering on my own.
Decades later I was poking through a bunch of my grandfathers paintings, documenting them, trying to make some sort of record of all of his work that is scattered throughout our family, when I came across this painting, not signed, and hanging in my aunt's house. My aunt was quick to remind me that this was a painting her mother had done, NOT her father. I was taken aback... "This?" I thought... "Grandma? I didn't know she painted too? This is good! Really good!". I kind of wish I could find more of her works like this, especially now that I'm really into the impressionists and painting alla-prima! (a painting term for immediate quick, thick, impasto painting technique).
Though this painting may never be seen on the walls at Christie's, I am proud of my grandmother's painting (one of the only paintings she ever did) and amazed at the many secret gifts she had, the many projects she was always chipping away at. It's funny how we often think we know somebody all of our lives, only to discover something brand new about them, something that we see in ourselves that explains our own behavior and interests. I look forward to learning more about my grandmother's many secrets as well as my own. I guess we are still working on that puzzle together.
Painting: ©Copyright Alice Gallaher
