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Brooklyn, NY
Don Doe/ Bartlett, Anna Kustera Gallery, NY NY, 1998
College Center Gallery, Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, NY, 1989
Summer Show, Edward Thorp Gallery, NY NY, 2001
High Wire, The New Yorker Gallery, Conde Nast building, NY NY, 2001
Pierogi Flat files, Block Artspace, Kansas City, Missouri, 2001
Modern Madness, The New Yorker Gallery, Conde Nast building, NY NY, 2000
Drawing From Brooklyn, Usdan Gallery, Bennington College, Vt, 2000
Super Duper New York, Pierogi 2000 Gallery, Williamsburg NY, 2000
MacDowell Colony Fellowship, Peterborough NH, Spring 1985
Ludwig Vogelstien Foundation Grant, 1992
Pollock-Krasner Foundation Grant, 1991
Nancy Graves Traveling fellowship in Sculp., Yale School of Art, 1987
Yale Honorary Scholarships, 1985-87
Ellen Bachtell Stocktell Fellowship, Norfolk,Ct 1980
Second Street Gallery, Art Papers, July 8, 1999
Don Doe, Mark Kostabi, Shout, September 1998
September Picks, Chambers, NY Arts, September 1998
Barry Bartlett/Don Doe, Kim Levin, The Village Voice, October 13, 1998
Exotica, Subterfuge, Cutting to the Quick, Chapman, Waterfront Week,
Vol.7.5, March 3-13, 1997
Blue in All It's Glory, Roberta Smith, The New York Times, July 22, 1994
MFA, Yale University School of Art, New haven CT , 1987
Cleveland Institute of Art 1980-83
Yale at Norfolk School for Music and Art, Norfolk CT, Summer 1980
Toledo Museum of Art, studied with Diana Attie, Toledo OH
He received an MFA in sculpture at Yale school of art before quitting that discipline and returning to painting. He was never comfortable with sculpture; it had become tedious like following in the footsteps of others. He sought renewal in painting the figure like he'd done in high school.
A Pollock-Krasner Grant in 1989 saved him from sculpture for good, enabling him to leave behind his job as an assistant process engineer at the Tallix Art foundry and move to Brooklyn with his girl friend to start his first figurative paintings. It was in this turning back where he found art was pleasurable again. It was a relief to be gazing at bare breasted models. His first steps in painting were as ink brush drawings about a bohemian artist who has difficulties with his muse, his dealer, his studio assistants, feminist art, pregnancy, abstraction, and an over abundance of canvases. The style of these drawings were a sort of Morgan Library medley of Tiepolo, Van Dyke, Daumier, Thomas Hart Benton, and Gents magazine from the 50's. His first successful painting was a portrait of a man as he watches a flood absorb and destroy a landscape he has just moments before rendered in paint on his canvas.
His work loves to look upon women in an adoring whispering way. His influences come from 40's glamour, detective movies, American Ash Can school painters, 70's fashion, art academy rendering techniques, paint by numbers, E. Degas, and pin-up girl calendars. His Painting is a kind of slippery confessional that can operate as a social critique of behavior with a self-critical gaze as penance. A pleasurable penance. He likes candid portraits and dynamic compositions of ordinary people. Like the love at first sight that you never acted upon, that kind of ordinary.
He lives in Park Slope, Brooklyn with his wife and their two sons Zachary and Anton. He paints in a large basement studio below his house on DeGraw Street near Fifth Ave. When not painting or watching the boys he illustrates editorials and caricatures for periodicals and on-line journals. These include; The New Yorker, the Wall Street Journal, Times, The Boston Globe.
His long lens reached over her shoulder. His thoughts were on the pearls she pinched between her fingertips. As she pulled her hair aside....His long lens occasionally annoyed her. As it often happened it was his wide angle that freed her inhibitions, and made her feel more welcome. The camera was in place, tracking the shot. They both saw it. Very nice. very very nice. A little more breeze, more breeze. That's nice.
The camera was always between him and the object of his thoughts. His suit was just pressed and he had limited time to get the shot. She lit up a cigarette and turned away from the light. He opened his aperture in response.
The frame was tight, a little cramped, the smoke stung his eyes. Then it occurred to him. Had the lens grown larger? Its enormity caught her attention exquisitely; distracted her from her self. Brought her out from beneath golden hair. But her averted eyes would not look at it directly. Still, she moved closer. He saw through his huge wide lens her concealed pearl.
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ALL IMAGES © Don Doe
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