By: Tobin Bennison
Article Category: Skilled Labor Leave a Comment
It’s said the gods do not subtract time spent fishing from one’s allotted time on earth. If that’s the case, then Derek Redwine should still be kicking 1,000 or so years from now.
It seems every local artist counts the ocean as a major inspiration for their work, but I’ve yet to meet someone who’s as boundlessly passionate about water as Redwine. Even when it doesn’t come up in our conversation, it’s referenced tangentially or roiling and bubbling just below each uttered word. I bet if you were to cut him (accidentally, of course), he’d bleed brine.
Where other fisherman live begrudgingly for the weekend or a surreptitious sick day, Redwine’s life revolves around the water on a daily basis. You get the sense that for him, being on the water is the norm, and time spent on solid ground is a rather pesky concession. Even his Merritt Island home, while decked out with all the traditional landlubbing trappings, gives the impression of a way station, a kind of intermittent headquarters for frequent river excursions.
For Redwine, his home, set back in a nondescript cul-de-sac, is the gateway into another world. “When I park my car in the driveway and go through the door,” he tells me, “I enter another world. And when I come home on Fridays and go through it, I never see the car again till Monday morning.”
I met Redwine here of a hazy morning and was immediately impressed with the openness of the place. While a few indications of his artistic talent hung on the wall, others, in various states of completion, were stacked unobtrusively in the corner. Despite their undeniable beauty and originality, I couldn’t help but be drawn to the scene outside, framed by the large windows and sliding glass doors in his living room. The Banana River in all it sublime glory, appropriately enough, is the focus of Redwine’s house. Leading me out onto the deck outside, past a large quiver of fishing rods, tropical foliage, recovered flotsam, and an easel bearing one of his latest pieces painted on a weathered slab of wood, he shows me his resplendent domain with the childlike pride and generosity of one who’s happiest sharing the one secret closest to his heart.
But if the water figures heavily in his life and work, it will always play second fiddle to his family. Fortunately for Redwine, both his wife, Cory, and son, Alden, share his passion in equal measure. “The core to everything here is my family,” he says. “We love being out here. Whether we’re fishing or just exploring, just being together is what it’s all about.”
That connectedness overflows into his compelling artwork, too. “This,” he says, indicating the river and the general outdoors with a sweep of his hand, “is what I’m inspired by. There’s always something to see out here. I’m always looking. Everything I see becomes a study or an idea for a painting.” One of his best pieces, aptly named “Voyeur,” hints at the reverence with which he treats his subjects and the intimate world they inhabit. With a tangle of mangrove roots and glistening river serving as a backdrop, it depicts a stylized snook and a white ibis eyeing each other patiently. Either one of them could be the titular observer, but I like to think that it’s the viewer himself who’s peeking in on a hidden scene so timeless, its bestowed with an almost holy mystique.
In keeping with that mystical air, “Voyesur’s” snook, like many of the other fish he paints, is emblazoned with a blend of Meso-American geometric motifs, their swirls and exaggerated borders vaguely akin to those carved on Mayan temple reliefs. Venturing this guess as to their source, I ask Redwine where his travels have taken him. Venezuela and Costa Rica are indeed favorite spots, and he avers that Mexican Day of the Dead folk art is a strong influence, but when he mentions having taken fishing trips to Alaska as well, these forms take on new dimensions of meaning.
Part Inuit, part Aztec (with even a dash of Maori thrown in), Redwine’s fish succeed in becoming something wholly transcendent — borderless totemic symbols of freedom and tightly-coiled power. “I get ideas from everywhere and try to incorporate them into each painting,” he offers. “But I don’t really want them to look like fish in the traditional way. I want to capture the feel of fish.” If that’s his bold aim, then he’s more than succeeded.
Other paintings of an arching mahi or rolling tarpon capture that essence of aquatic life — fishness, if you will — and each of his gilled subjects is simultaneously individualistic and representative of their class. What’s more, they’re not the cooki-cutter images of fish you’re used to seeing. By his own admission, the self-taught Redwine takes pains to obscure his images with layers of color and shadow, giving them added depth of movement. It’s as if he enjoys a personal connection with each of them, and like any true fisherman, he has an unbridled respect for them and their domain.
Though some of Redwine’s earliest memories are of doodling and painting with sets his mother purchased for him, it wasn’t until he became a professional charter boat mate in the area that his two passions converged. He’d often design t-shirts for captains and friends, and his innate talent with logos and lettering saw demand build apace, leading to his and Cory’s founding the Port Canaveral-based Boldwater Graphics, the undisputed leader in local marine graphic design.
But while his work with Boldwater is satisfying, it’s when he’s painting for himself that he’s most fulfilled. “When I’m here,” he says, in his home studio, “I can do the stuff I like. Graphic design is more focused on the final product. When you’re involved in it, you subject yourself to having to carry everything out to completion.” Taking me over to a work-in-progress, a swerving marlin, hanging above a box of homemade artificial flys, Redwine pauses meaningfully. “When I’m painting for myself, it’s hard for me to finish anything totally. I always see something else that can be added or taken away. I just find myself starting over again.” A planned showing of his work at Port Canaveral’s Rusty’s on August 8th, however, is his current, if temporary incentive.
And with the amount of extra years he’s racked up out on the water, time shouldn’t be much of an issue.
See a showing of Derek Redwine’s artwork Tuesday, August 8th at Rusty’s Seafood and Oyster Bar (628 Glen Cheek Dr., Port Canaveral). The exhibition which will feature newer and older Redwine works, live music, and wine and hors d’oeuvres. Contact Rusty’s at (321) 783-2033 for more details. Redwine himself is available through Boldwater Graphics (677 Dave Nisbet Dr., Suite 119; Port Canaveral; 868-5090) for custom work for both homes and vessels.
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