| The Driskel Gallery is lovingly named in remembrance of local resident, artist and my good friend, Kevin Driskel, who died of complications from AIDS on April 4, 1997 at his home on Franklin Street. Kevin was a true artist. He found creative expression in most aspects of life, from his monoprints and constructions, to the A-House posters and even his many spur-of-the-moment Friday night drag outings. | |||
| Kevin was a person of excess, both positive and negative. His was excessively talented and intuitive, and excessively self-destructive. Why is it that so often these two go hand in hand? He felt things excessively, love, anger, grief and joy. There was little gray in Kevin's life. Only black and white, and of course whatever shade of red he wore on his lips that evening. I knew him for only a short time during the last few years of his life. Although opposite in so many ways we felt a connection that went beyond background and upbringing. Even though we were two people of very different lifestyles and habits we were able to find a balance and a common ground rich enough to nourish a deep friendship. We traveled together to Kenya and the Indian Ocean, and were actually speaking when we got back! We cried together through broken realtionships. We shared our dreams and our past. I think most importantly we shared a creative spirit that is an unspoken language, and one that had gone silent within me for many years. | |||
| It was Kevin who once again made me feel that my talents, however modest or untrained, were valid and worth taking out of moth balls. He would praise my photography to others, which felt like being granted a new way of looking at myself. I respected his talents as an artist, and so his endorsement of my work meant all the more. | |||
| When Kevin passed away I was at his side, and in that moment of passing I suddenly knew that I had been given a most precious gift and that nothing in my life from that moment on would ever be the same. He taught me that dreams and talents should not be left forgotten or ignored. He gave me his trust and his love in a way few can experience. In his last moments he showed me not only that every aspect of life is precious, but also that the end was not so frightening if one is loved as Kevin was, both in life and in his final moments on earth. | |||
| A few months later I was told about a building containing a gallery that was for sale. I looked at the building at 494 Commercial Street and knew immediately I had found a home for my creative spirit. It was, I am sure, a direct result of Kevin's influence on me that gave me the confidence to go forward with the concept of The Schoolhouse Center. I simply saw the finished product in my mind from the start and knew that it would work, and that the building was perfectly suited to the purpose. Kevin was on my shoulder all the way, especially when I got overwhelmed or scared, always telling me that I could do it. I will always be grateful that our lives converged, even if for a brief time. It is for that reason that I felt so strongly about naming the gallery after Kevin Driskel, my friend. | |||
| David Davis | |||