Page 57 - The Hunt - Fall 2022

“It’s for $50,000,” Jackson says of “Maroon Bells.” “It’s a commission for a client in Colorado, who initially wanted just a landscape of the mountains. While giving her that, I talked her into adding the balloon dogs. ”
That qualifies as a conversation starter.
“At first glance, Bob’s paintings are fun and lighthearted. But upon further inspection, there’s also art history, wordplay
and nostalgia involved,” says
runs. “I appreciate cartoons, but I’ve never wanted to do one,” he says.
At rest, the affable 6-foot-2 painter’s
face is as placid as a blank canvas. In
person, Jackson is approachable, open
and forthcoming. He loves one-on-one conversation but doesn’t care much for small talk at parties. Perhaps that’s why he hates going to openings of his own shows.
wanted the tall ceilings,” he says of the space. Jackson’s brightly colored paintings hang
on the walls. Some are still in progress. Others await shipment or a new showing. A smaller room in back is lined with art books Jackson often takes with him to lunch as reading material. Small canvases and sketches by other artists also hang on the wall back there. His ever-present sketchbook lies open on a table.
Rebecca Moore, director of
Somerville Manning Gallery in Greenville, which represents
Jackson locally. “The color and
text of the vintage crates are
often related on some level to
the subject matter. That sometimes acts as a puzzle for viewers, which some collectors love.”
The 58-year-old Jackson is a study in contrasts. He’s one of the most talented
and frequently collected local painters not named Wyeth, but his name seldom comes up in conversations about Brandywine Valley artists. That’s because most of the people who buy his paintings live elsewhere, as do many of the fellow artists he corresponds with
and occasionally collects. When you look at one of his paintings, as Moore notes, it may come across like a sight gag for a New Yorker cartoon. But that’s not how Jackson’s mind
Like most artists, Jackson is conflicted by commissions. After all, they begin as someone else’s inspiration, not his. But they’re also a steady source of income. “This is my 12th commission this year,” says Jackson, referring to the painting described earlier. And that’s
significant, considering that Jackson’s average annual output is about 30 works.
Most paintings are sold through the several galleries that represent him: Somerville Manning locally, Arden Gallery in Boston; Gallery Henoch in New York City; Zenith Gallery in Washington, D.C.; M.A. Doran Gallery in Tulsa, Oklahoma; and Samuel Owen Gallery in Nantucket, Massachusetts. His most recent show at Zenith Gallery ended this past June. He has another solo show in November at Canton Museum of Art in Ohio.
Jackson has a devoted coterie of collectors, some with over a dozen of his works. He’s become friends with some of them. Others
Jackson loves one-on-one conversation but doesn’t care much for small talk at parties. Perhaps that’s why he hates going to openings of his own shows.
And while he’s wanted to be a painter since he took an art class his senior year in college, it was a couple of career moves before he got there. “Fame never occurred to me,” he says. “I just wanted to make a living for my family. Everything else is gravy.”
Jackson’s studio is also a study in contrasts. Though it’s closed to the public, Jackson has arranged the display window to blend in with the ambiance of Kennett Square’s State Street shopping and restaurant district. Its whimsical displays currently include full-scale caricatures of famous painters—mostly short ones like Picasso—with Jackson towering above them. “It has great north light, and I
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