... is how P.D. often referred with great affection to my fellow figurative artist and my long time friend Chris Apel. She had thought to study at the Art Institute of Chicago until she saw what was the beauty of the Clark Arts Building and immediately changed her mind. Always bedizened with a multitude of rings and bracelets she never took ceramics (all that messy clay, you know?). But I managed to remove the jewelry... and more. Chris also modeled for the art classes and to this day I call her 'My First Naked Lady'.
~Ellen & Chris~
Robert John Guttke
One time P.D. inspected my sketch book and chuckled, "I would recognize that nose anywhere," and yet I had drawn so much more!
Occasionally I'd pass through the drawing studio as she posed on the dais and just matter-of-factly say, "Hi, Chris," which startled the students nervously huddled behind their sketch books. I recall a time when she had felt faint and drifted down like the petal of a flower. The class didn't move an inch. Seemingly apoplectic. I brought her water which brought her back to her (bare) feet and the class relaxed. Another curious incident was an elderly dentist friend of P.D.'s who took it upon himself to sit at the back and observe the 'class'. I took it upon myself, especially for the model's sake, to tell Mr. Dedrick that his friend's appreciation for art was... shall we say... dubious? Thus in the parlance of dentistry: the man was extracted.
Chris' senior show was notable for what was excluded as well as included. She created a marvelous tongue-in-cheek photographic series: a young girl whose attire slid off bit by bit until the final frame revealed only a pile of clothes- and beneath this, matching frame for frame, was a banana suffering the same fate until the final image was just the peel. This celebration of the female form and fruit, alas, was taken down.
~Drawing/1973~
Chris Apel
Chris Apel
No one, however, took issue with the masterpiece of her exhibit: the blue paper drawing of the figure of a young man gently dreaming. The story goes that Peter Graves, a member of the swim team, would drop by, drop his clothes, drop across the bed, and drop off to sleep... while Chris was busy with graphite and white pencil. Comatose models are always the best.
More than thirty years later the results remain breathtaking. Today Chris continues drawing, painting and accepts portrait commissions.
Hearing from Pat Hoffman, it was Chris who called and told me about Bo-Bo's failing health and to hurry down to Rockford. During my last days with him, while he dozed in his chair, I discovered what must have been every postcard the Walkers had sent P.D. during their world travels. He kept them all.
'Dear Bob,
I'm so grateful to be able to sponsor your trip to Rockford to see Phil. It was so important for you to spend some quality time with him and to meet a number of his care-giving friends- to ascertain for yourself the quality of his care, and I hope- give you some peace of mind over his situation.
Death is a merciless task master- never waiting for a convenient time... We should all be blessed to have a myriad of friends taking care for us in time of need. Philip certainly touched countless lives- truly making a difference to so many of us. Thank yous are never enough. I feel bad that I am not able to see him and talk to him in solace- (though) I much prefer remembering him as he was. So I am certain it is true with you also- Phil is ALWAYS with me... his professional self at museums, the patient teacher standing next to me at my easel, the courtly gestures, the witticisms and his rapier sharp mimicry of those he was annoyed with. What a great man. And that greatness will always be there as long as one- even just one -of his students or friends remains living to remember and honor him.
Chris'
May 17, 2001
~Chris Apel (with braces on her teeth)
& some guy, 1973~
Photo by Philip Bilse Dedrick
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