For Bishop Seabury teachers, chance encounter online leads to visit from big-time artist

Senior Mikey Wycoff works on a piece aimed at calling attention to the issues of gun safety and children on Tuesday, Jan. 31, 2017 at Bishop Seabury Academy. On Monday, Feb. 6, contemporary artist Michael Mararian, whose paintings juxtapose the innocence of children with absurd scenarios, will visit Laura Porter's advanced art classes. Porter's class spent Tuesday working on their own pieces inspired by Mararian.

Michael Mararian’s work is weird and wonderful.

The artist’s paintings focus on childhood as the last bastion of innocence, often contrasting cherubic young faces with violent, nightmarish or otherwise disturbing imagery.

He paints babies clutching bloody knives, firearms and slabs of raw meat. All with a twisted sense of humor and a social or political message attached, of course.

Naturally, the teenagers in Laura Porter’s art classes love the stuff. And now, thanks to the powers of social media, they’ll have a chance to meet the internationally exhibiting artist in person when he visits Bishop Seabury for a public talk from 6:30 to 8 p.m. Monday at the school, 4120 Clinton Parkway.

Laura Porter

“He (has) images addressing childhood obesity, stress, pressure, expectations. And they can all relate to this, and this is their chance,” Porter says of her students’ interest in the New York-based “rock star” artist. “We’re just excited, because he’s big news for us.”

The talk, hosted by Bishop Seabury and the University of Kansas department of visual art, is free and open to the public. It’s partly about welcoming the Lawrence community into Bishop Seabury in advance of the school’s annual fundraising auction (Mararian’s offered to donate a piece for the occasion) on Feb. 18, and also, Porter says, largely about the unexpected connections we’re able to make through art.

A few years back, Porter’s colleague Lori Derby, who teaches Latin and French at Bishop Seabury, discovered Mararian’s darkly humorous work in a copy of Juxtapoz Magazine. A lover of contemporary art, Derby decided to create a lesson for her students about his work as part of a Seabury tradition called Renaissance Day, when kids and staff are encouraged to share skills or hobbies not typically explored in the classroom. Mararian — gun-toting toddlers and all — turned out to be a big hit with Derby’s students, prompting Porter to do the same.

And for a while, that was the extent of things. Porter rotated Mararian’s work in and out of her curriculum, and Derby continued to follow the artist on Facebook. When she read that Mararian’s wife had died of cancer, and that he had been diagnosed with the condition shortly after, Derby decided to reach out the artist, who had been sharing his pain and disillusionment with friends on Facebook. It seemed as if Mararian might be giving up on art, Derby said, and she didn’t want that to happen.

“You just see somebody out there like that who you admire — you just want to let them know that you appreciate what they’re doing, and hope that that might spur them on a little bit in a difficult time,” Derby says. “Which is why I reached out.”

Sophomore Elisa Trujillo works on a piece that she said is aimed at calling attention to factory farm practices while making a social statement about children not knowing where their food comes from on Tuesday, Jan. 31, 2017 at Bishop Seabury Academy.

And then Porter reached out, too. She told Mararian about how her students came to be inspired by his work, which in turn, she says, inspired him. Soon, he started drawing and painting again, and sharing those new creations on Facebook. “Needless to say,” Mararian wrote in a post last September about his correspondence with the Kansas teachers, “it was the boost I needed at the time and I’m still a bit beside myself.”

“You could see it in his posts as he continued on. He started picking up the charcoal. He’s reinvigorated and re-inspired,” Porter says. “On our end, the kids really respond to that story, too. They’ve got the inspiration and the hook that this happened to an actual working artist, and that people struggle. Even if they’re well known, they have their struggles.”

On Monday, Porter’s students will have a chance to visit with the artist and ask him questions about what it takes to build a successful career in the arts.

It’s a welcome opportunity for senior Zoe Cui, who plans on studying art after she graduates this spring.

“I’ve actually seen his work before,” Cui says of a Mararian show she once caught in her native China. On Monday, she says, “I’ll probably ask him questions related to his career. Like, how did he get the inspiration? Why did he create so many works that are so powerful?”

Cui’s mixed-media piece riffs on teenage parents in contemporary society. Its focal point is a small child left alone on a couch, surrounded by junk food. The parents aren’t there to supervise the kid, but the TV is.

Other works by Porter’s students focus on fears or phobias — fear of the dark, fear of flying, fear of needles or, in senior Vivian Aubel’s case, a fear of the unknown. She spent last Thursday painting the tentacles of a red-and-yellow octopus that will eventually, when she gets to it, encircle a presumably terrified little kid.

“I guess my octopus is college, because I don’t really know what’s going to happen in the future,” Aubel says. “I know where I’m going, but I don’t know what’s going to happen after that.”

The assignments, Porter says, have been “cathartic” for some of her students. It’s a method, she says, of working through some of the very real anxieties faced by young people in an especially turbulent time. Some of the issues they’re tackling — gun violence, corporate farming, the disappearance of bee colonies — are quite timely. Others speak to more universal fears, like the dread of tackling a big presentation in class.

Either way, she’s proud of her kids. They’ve connected with Mararian’s art, and now, they’ll be able to personally connect with the artist himself.

“This whole thing speaks to the power of art and expression,” Porter says.

“You never know who’s out there looking and watching and caring, and is engaged with you in some way that you’re not aware of,” Derby agrees. “And to be able to reach out and have an experience with that person — it’s really cool.”