WORDS Amy Collins PHOTO Robert Rausch
Florence native Audwin McGee works large. His architectural designs are grand, incorporating natural elements like stone and rough hewn wood; original furniture designs boast carved details that demand attention; a recent series of sculptures made from recycled aluminum, commissioned by the four cities that make up The Shoals (Florence, Muscle Shoals, Sheffield, Tuscumbia), represent the area’s rich music history and reach nearly 20 feet; and many of his paintings cover an entire wall. A few of those paintings - and a few smaller works - are featured at Southern Makers.
Of course there’s more to McGee’s work than impressive size. Painting is the artist’s preferred medium, and if you ask him a few questions you’ll quickly realize he is foremost a storyteller, like all good Southerners, and that each painting illustrates a personal tale. A recent painting titled “The Consumed and the Consumer” portrays a tarpon swallowing a man (the artist himself) who is in turn attempting to swallow a school of smaller fish. When McGee talks about the painting, one hears echoes of Santiago’s struggle with the marlin in Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea. Both men are consumed with the fish, with reeling it in, as the fish consumes the man, taking every drop of his physical and mental energy in the fight. In Santiago’s case, the battle is a lost cause, a metaphor for the inevitable. But McGee’s work, even when the images slip into the sobering margins of life, exhibits a whimsical quality that reminds the viewer, and the sportsman, that it is a sport after all. The message may be simple, but it is poignant and effective.
Much of McGee’s canon is influenced by his passion for the hunt. Past works depict scenes from his adventures in Africa, where he spent several years in hunting camps on the Niassa Reserve in Mozambique, which interlope hyenas and warthogs with tall, thin women in short skirts and high heels - usually images of his wife and muse, Sandi. These days, McGee draws inspiration from a more Southern exposure. One painting in particular, titled “You Just Better Go Chase a Hawk,” tells a common story. A turkey vulture spreads it’s wings to deflect an encroaching crow, as if he’s saying, “Buzz off, this rabbit road kill is mine”! The colors are vivid, the birds illustrative and amusing, and the background was created with a coffee wash. Yes, he paints with leftover morning coffee. It has fast become a favorite.
Fishing is a recurrent theme. One painting tells the story of an old bass that has escaped the fishermen’s line so many times it has become a legend. The creature’s body is pierced with lures, many of which are no longer made, a detail McGee promises a bass fisherman would appreciate. Hog hunting is also a strong influence in the work, or more specifically, the noble dogs that track, bait, and attack the wild hogs. McGee raises hunting dogs and his knowledge of the breeds is impressive. One painting pays tribute to a beloved dog named Tugger, who was lost in battle. The crowned canine sits upon a throne, the background is black as a moonless night, and a mountain of boar skulls are piled at his feet. Another painting captures the dramatic action of a hog hunt, the dogs hanging off the beast by their jaws.
McGee’s work is immersed in masculinity, though that’s not to say his creations are for men only. The stories that inspire them are universal and lasting. Take, for example, a composition demonstrating a clear admiration for the literary giant William Faulkner, which depicts the author himself, Old Ben and Lion, the Airedale mix, walking in tandem toward the night woods. It’s an obvious hat tip to the writer’s famed short story, “The Bear.” Isn’t every good Southerner well-versed on that classic?
Some of the paintings mentioned here are on display at Southern Makers, along with a few smaller sculptural pieces. You can learn more about the artist, his travels through Africa and his literary influences on his website, www.apmcgee.com.