Damien Share

Of all the striking paintings in Damien Share’s portfolio, my favorite is one of a discarded clementine peel.

The clementine, for the uninitiated, is a variety of mandarin orange, about the same size as a tangerine, but far juicier, sweeter, and happily seedless. The best clementines usually come from Spain, though I’ve bought some adequate examples from South Africa. They’re very easy to peel – the rind comes off in one sleeve-like piece – and small crates usually show up in markets as winter begins, which is often why they’re called “Christmas fruit.”

Much like a child who looks forward to December’s promise of presents and toys, I head directly to the produce section in search of the little lovelies once the 1st rolls around. Dan Igo (a renowned food critic, apparently) once said they were something that “could cause countries to go to war over.” While that statement is apt, considering their untouchable deliciousness, I’d rather like to think they’d cause countries to come together in one peaceful, fruity embrace. Any clementine lover is a long-lost brother (or sister) in my book, and though I’m loath to draw attention to them for fear of drying up the supply, I think it’s in the best interests of fruitdom to spread word of the clementine’s supremacy.

Last year, when I was working outside a lot, I always stuffed two or three into my bag along with my sandwich. My taste buds quenched around lunchtime, I’d toss the peels into the back of the work truck and carry on with my chores. Within an hour or so, I noticed, the peels would curl up into beautiful shapes under the noonday sun, and with my last one having been consumed, I couldn’t help but feel a little sad that I hadn’t packed just one more extra. I always thought that if I were a painter I’d dedicate a few works to the clementine peel, not for the inherent beauty and variety of its dried form, but for the tastiness it once enclosed. I’d call it “Loss,” or “Void,” or something deep like that.

So it was with some amazement that I came across Damien Share’s image, rendered just as I’d always imagined. Not only had I found a member of the clementine brotherhood, but one who seemed to understand the beautiful story behind what others might sweep away like common garbage. As the interview continued and I admired other paintings, I found that Share and I shared similar aesthetic views on depictions of the physical world. Though it wasn’t talked about outright, I think we both agree on the importance of showing “soul” (for lack of a better term) behind nature’s creations.

Here was a heavily-laden mango tree painted from the perspective of one laying against its stalk at ground level – the best vantage point for showing the abundant life coursing through it; a halved papaya with its glistening bed of brown, spherical seeds; an up-close view of mottled palmetto leaves, and an orchid branch shedding a husky layer of skin. While other painters might treat them as static, still-life studies, Share has the ability to look inside his subjects and bring out their vibrant essence. And where others with similar technical proficiency might be able to produce a nearly photographically-detailed representation of a plant, it’s usually at the cost of feeling – that thing no amount of practice can teach you.

The Indialantic-based Share can’t remember a time when he wasn’t doodling. At the age of 5, during a visit to a Norman Rockwell exhibition in his native New York, he was impressed by that artist’s ability to capture the “inner life” of his subjects, or what Share refers to as “the human element.” “I remember it making sense of a sudden that this is what someone did for a job,” he says. “And you can’t really grow up without feeling some connection with Salvador Dali.” The sweeping colors and visual veracity of Maxfield Parrish also provided some early influence, but more than anything, it seems nature played an even bigger role in Share’s artistic development.

“I came down here with my family to visit my grandparents who were living here at the time, and I could never understand why we were going back home,” he remembers. “I just wanted to stay down here in paradise.” While attending school back up in West Elmira, Share was an avid basketball player until an accident forced him to the sidelines. As part of his rehabilitation therapy, he began swimming competitively and then began lifeguarding. After earning an Associate’s art degree in advertising design and landing a job with an advertising firm, he found that it wasn’t really his field, and he traveled to Brevard County in 1989 with no clear intention of staying. You know the rest, of course: he bought a surfboard and laid some beachside roots.

In between lifeguarding at Sebastian Inlet, running cross country for BCC and competing in triathlons, Share continued dabbling in art, creating colorful paintings inspired by the ocean and local flora and fauna. But in 1993, fulfilling a New Year’s resolution, he devoted himself wholly to painting, selling his works through surf shops up and down the East Coast. Now, he supports himself by painting commissioned pieces, the most recent of which, a mural of a rain forest adorning a condo interior, took 700 hours spread out over four months of work to complete. No doubt Share’s adherence to authenticity took up a lot of research time; he filled the mural with precise images of plants and animals indigenous to that environment.

He’s also just finished his first children’s book, called, quite simply, “A Children’s Story.” The 29-page cloth-bound hardcover filled with original illustrations is about “communing with nature through surfing,” Share tells me. “It’s also about traveling to experience different beaches and surf conditions.” And while the book is geared toward younger readers, one imagines the titular child as an ageless, faceless being characterized by the innocence of an open heart and mind.

Whatever his subjects – waves, sunsets, beach scenes, sea turtles, pelicans, or fruit – Share begins with a rather unorthodox approach. None of his canvases are pre-sketched, and he begins with the background and works toward the foreground – from the sky and water to the final horizon, or from the ocean floor to the billowing surface. By his own admission, it’s tempting to work directly with the central subject and fill in the periphery later. “It takes patience, but I like working that way,” he avers.

Perhaps that’s where that inner life in Share’s paintings comes from, this insistence on working inward, filling in the background patiently, and giving time for the core to take shape. And strangely enough, I bet that’s how the clementine grows.

Damien Share’s paintings hang throughout the area in select galleries, businesses, and private collections, but you can find them at the Beach Street Eatery and the Friendly Toast Café, both located on Ocean Avenue in Melbourne Beach. Many originals are part of the Melbourne Beach Public Library’s permanent collection. Prints of Share’s work are also sold at the Sea Turtle Preservation Society offices in Indialantic (111 A1A, just south of 192; 676-1701; www.seaturtlespacecoast.org), with proceeds of sold works going toward their worthy cause. Nearly everything he’s painted can be re-created as an 8 x 10 print. Share takes custom requests for print orders and custom commissioned pieces, including paintings and interior/exterior murals. For copies of “A Children’s Story” in time for the Holidays, email Share at: dshare@earthlink.net. Visit his website for an online gallery and more details: www.damienshare.com

Tel: 427-1689
www.damienshare.com