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Leslie Laskey: The art of life, a life in art

This article first appeared in the St. Louis Beacon, Sept. 7, 2011 - Leslie Laskey's artistic expression extends way beyond paint, paper and canvas. This summer, for example, he worked in corn and black cherries. In the kitchen, not in the studio.

His masterpieces include cherries roasted with balsamic vinegar, brown sugar and red pepper flakes; arugula pork tenderloin and roasted corn salad with lemon dressing; and a whole, unadorned roasted peach (one hour at 350 degrees).

For Laskey, cooking is as much "art" as any of the works in his two upcoming exhibitions: a retrospective at Washington University's Steinberg Gallery and a collection of collages featuring security envelopes at Bruno David.

"I don't think my art is different from my life; they're intertwined, inseparable," Laskey said. "The way I cook, the way I paint, the way I read, and the music I listen to are all one in the same."

No Fight to the Finish

Leslie Laskey lore includes his D-Day landing on the Beaches of Normandy as a 23-year-old soldier, his study with Hungarian-born American New Bauhaus pioneer Laslo Moholy-Nagy and his sometimes volatile teaching style.

For 35 years, Laskey served as a gatekeeper to Washington University's College of Architecture. New students were required to take his introductory courses. Many didn't progress beyond that.

Former student Dennis Cope did. Even so, he remembers vividly an incident when he was 25 that might have crushed him as a younger man: presenting the daunting professor with what he thought was a completed balsa wood and cardboard model.

"He tore it apart," Cope said. "And he did so with a deliberate focus of, 'Don't you dare think you're finished.' But I was able to view it as not about me, but as a part of his teaching."

It was an unconventional but effective tactic, Laskey said. "If you want to make a point, the best way is to get their attention -- and getting their attention sometimes means a little violence," Laskey said.

The incident sealed into Cope's psyche the Laskeyan tenet that pushing an idea further and further along -- not completion -- is the goal. So devoted are Cope and numerous other former students that a dozen of them enjoy the summers together at Laskey's "Art Kamp" in Manistee, Mich. Spending time with them feeds Laskey's creativity in much the same way as teaching.

"A lot of artists complain that the students get in the way of their work, but I found it completely different," Laskey said. "I needed the kind of current the students were offering and reflecting."

Pushing the Envelope -- Literally

Even the mundane activity of going through the mail fuels Laskey's artistic efforts.

About a year ago, Laskey took notice of the inside of an envelope addressed to his life partner of 50 years, sculptor/painter Frank Schwaiger. Soon afterward, he picked up a coffin-shaped piece of paper on the street. Combining the two resulted in a visual rendition of Gilbert and Sullivan's "The Mikado."

"I started to make stories out of the envelopes," Laskey said. "It's like having a very wild paintbrush; the tones are different and there is an amazing amount of color -- the blues and some reds."

One hundred and fifty pieces later, his "S.E.N.T. Security Envelopes Now Tampered" opens Sept. 9. Given his dislike of completion as a goal, how does Laskey know when a series is done?

"I don't know," Laskey said. "They have to take things away from me; it's an addiction."

Laskey's perseverance has also produced entire exhibits devoted to doll heads, flowers, a single hinge. It's a mindset that is intrinsic to his life, according to his friend, writer Malcolm Gay.

"He'll break down something into its components and reconstitute it -- and he'll do this again and again, reconfiguring it each time in a new way," Gay said. "The playfulness of his mind is ceaseless; you can see it in his dinner conversation, how he landscapes his yard and around his house."

'Life is Good'

Laskey can already feel a relapse in his security-envelope obsession. Covering an entire chair with the patterned paper is one future project on his mind.

A current undertaking involves a series of window paintings and woodcuts, one of which is included in "reVIEWS." Each is a scene that he imagines to be the view of an historical figure. Another work-in-progress, the window of painter Henri Matisse, is dominated by a bowl of flowers that appears to be at once opaque and transparent.

Peering through the window of the Central West End home Laskey shares with his Australian Cattle Dog, Louie, one might see him working, reading or cooking for friends or just Schwaiger. Living apart is one secret to their half-century-long relationship, Laskey said, but they do eat breakfast and dinner together every day. Another is their shared artistic passion. "Life is good," Laskey said.

Laskey's legacy lives, among other places, in a group called Studio L, which presents Washington University College of Architecture's Laskey Award, encouraging collaboration and open-ended creativity. A group of past students and colleagues supports the organization. "I'm lucky to have the tribe that I have and how rich they've made my life," Laskey said. "You can't do any of this very well by yourself -- but you also have to be an individual."

Following heart surgery last spring, Laskey is in good health. He doesn't focus much on the fact that he turned 90 in July, pointing out that, "I'm more than just my age; I just happen to have good genes."

Having always pursued the life and the experiences he wanted, Laskey has nothing but more of the same on his bucket list. "I love the idea that I've been lucky enough to do everything that I wanted to do and more," Laskey said. "I'm looking forward to whatever future I have."

Nancy is a veteran journalist whose career spans television, radio, print and online media. Her passions include the arts and social justice, and she particularly delights in the stories of people living and working in that intersection.