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DUSTI SCOVEL |
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Published Fall 2003, Hope Renewed Newsletter, SAMMinistries A Mirror to the Soul The young man sat silent and still, his tall lanky body folded in half, his head resting on his knees as he stole a short afternoon nap. On the easel in front of him, the poignant portrait-in-progress told me I’d found Seth Camm. With his unassuming attire, the 28 year old artist blended so seamlessly with the residents of the homeless shelter that without the easel, I might have walked right by him. The mini-studio Camm has designed for himself sits just inside the doorway. The walls are lined with paintings, finished and unfinished and a well used palette with a kaleidoscope of paints rests close by. Most artists would flinch at the stark work environment, the lack of lighting, constant traffic and uncomfortable folding chairs. Seth Camm, however, is not your ordinary artist; not by a long shot. He is soft spoken with kind eyes that reflect an obvious compassion for the people he paints. Ten years ago, when the San Antonio native graduated from high school, he decided to pursue a career as a full time artist. His parents supported his decision and sent him to the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts in Philadelphia. When Camm needed models for his portrait studies, he decided to ask the street people, who he passed daily on his walk to and from school, to pose for him. Several agreed and soon the young artist found himself absorbed in more than just an academic requirement. As the homeless men and women sat for him, they began to share their stories and in turn, the portraits began to evolve into much more. Their eyes told a story and Camm was determined to capture that on canvas. It was then that he decided to launch a full scale project, traveling the country and painting the homeless. After graduation, Camm visited shelters in New Jersey, California and Washington DC before returning to San Antonio last year. On the day I visited, Camm was painting Sharon, a middle aged woman who has been in and out of the shelter over the last eighteen months fighting cancer. Two weeks ago, thedoctors discovered her lung cancer has metastasized into her brain. The radiation treatments leave her weak, making long portrait sittings difficult but she loves doing it. “Seth’s a good guy,” she says, “I’ll sit as often as he needs me to. He knows I get tired and need to take a rest and that’s okay with him.” Several other residents walked by to inspect the painting and gave Camm an approving nod. There is a comfortable banter between Camm and the residents that clearly tell of their fondness for him. In addition to the paintings, Camm has over sixty tape recordings of his subjects telling their stories. It is his dream to see the paintings, the written stories and the recordings assembled into one major exhibit and an eventual book. Visitors would be able to view the paintings, read the stories and in some cases, hear the people tell them in their own voices. Camm believes that such an exhibit would serve to educate young people about the homeless. The recorded stories are honest and revealing but Camm believes that is as it should be. “Young people need to hear that doing drugs and dropping out of school have consequences and often lead to homelessness. On the flip side, we all need to hear that regular people like you and me can end up homeless because of one unexpected tragedy. I want this project to be a bridge of understanding, giving the homeless a face and a platform to share an unspoken truth.” The health care worker returned to check on Sharon and noticed the painting at Camm’s feet. “Is that Steve?” she asked. Camm’s broad smile confirmed her suspicion. “He had a massive stroke last night and is in the hospital in a coma.” she continued. With that news, I could tell that my interview was basically over. Camm’s eyes reflected deep sadness. “I just had cake with him yesterday. He used to own a music store here but lost it and eventually lost his wife too,” Camm explained softly as he stared at the painting on the floor. In it, a middle aged man with wild hair, big glasses and a quirky grin stared back at us. I gathered my notes and headed toward the parking lot. As I pulled away, I saw Camm on his bicycle in my rear view mirror. I knew he was on his way to the hospital to see Steve, a homeless man who until a few minutes before, had been just another face among many to me. Now, however, thanks to a young, compassionate artist, Steve had a face and a voice . . . and a special place in my heart. Dusti Scovel Note: Steve passed away shortly after this interview. ds
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