I decided to continue my new series of paintings with a composition that marks where the Prohibition era intersects the Great Depression. I found a fantastic photograph of men on the breadline having a much-needed bowl of soup and a roll, and felt I had to paint it. Above is a progress shot.
I was struck by the way that nobody in the photo is interacting because they are all intent on eating. Look at those hollow eyes and cheeks. Are the two lean guys closest to us father and son? There’s a definite resemblance between them in the source photograph. Or has the physical toll taken on them by deprivation and hunger brought about a loss of individuality?
There’s more than a hint of van Gogh’s The Potato Eaters about the reference photo, to my eyes, so that’s my touchstone for the piece I’m now blocking out. As with all of the pieces in my Prohibition series, it’s done as a kind of grisaille painting, but the subject matter in this case seems especially suited to that austere style.
I’m going to keep this one quite sketchy, I think. A rough finish should help reflect the grinding poverty people suffered at the time, when many charities tried to deal with those facing hunger. In November of 1930, the press revealed that even Al Capone had opened a soup kitchen. His was at 935 South State Street in Chicago. It served breakfast, lunch and dinner to in excess of 2,000 people each day. This was great PR for Capone. On Thanksgiving in 1930, his establishment dished out a beef stew to around 5,000 Chicagoans.
In the midst of the economic hardship, anti-Prohibition activists argued that America needed the jobs and tax revenue that legalized alcohol would generate, and hopes of repeal eventually became a reality.
Reporter:
“They say they're going to repeal Prohibition...what will you do then?"
Eliot Ness:
“I think I'll have a drink.”
The Untouchables
I also finished my George Remus painting (below). It has won the approval of Abbott Kahler, who wrote an excellent book about this absurdly wealthy bootlegger.