STEPHEN DURKE RETROSPECTIVE

“Deciding to remember, and what to remember, is how we decide who we are. “
— Robert Pinsky

OBITUARY
Stephen W. Durke | March 16, 1952 - May 20, 2024
Stephen Durke grew up in a loving family in Orange, Texas. He started drawing at an early age, mostly motorcycles and race cars. After high school he became certified in deep-sea welding in Santa Cruz, California, and returned to the East Texas coast to weld in the shipyards. He enjoyed welding but dreamed of getting paid to draw and paint for a living. Passionate about illustration, he was committed to making each assignment better than the last. He loved art, music, cooking, his vintage Alfa Romeo, racquetball, his motorcycle, Formula One racing, deep sea diving, rocks, feathers, weather, clouds, the Medina River, our adventures together, and his cats—especially Bebe. He was beautiful and brave, and I was extremely fortunate to have him by my side. —Martha
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EVERY PICTURE TELLS A STORY
I created this online exhibit for our family and friends.
A love letter from me to the love of my life.
A celebration to equal the amazing one Overland Partners gave me when I retired.
An opportunity for Stephen to reflect on his career while the rest of us revisit the work we had admired along the way, and present a few that hadn’t been seen before.

My original plan was to host an art exhibit in a local space. Instead, my plan, like so many other people’s plans, was turned upside down by Covid-19. I soon realized that if we postponed it indefinitely, it could be a long wait, and more importantly, we would have left so many people we love out of the experience. When I re-imagined the exhibit as an online experience, I realized this would be even better.

Although it’s only a fraction of his 40+ year output, we chose pieces that span the variety of content, and represent Stephen’s unique talent for visualization and craft. I’m so proud of the result. So… grab your beverage of choice… and browse this amazing collection at your own pace. We’re so glad you could join us!

THOUSANDS OF ILLUSTRATIONS
I’ve had the honor of curating this collection that represents Stephen’s progression of skill, in drawing, painting, mastering complex 3D digital image creation and most of all, turning ideas—usually someone else’s ideas— into realistic imagery. In the process I discovered that it also illustrates the times we were living in—a visual timeline of the development of our culture. He was assigned to create images that depicted the current politics, science, space travel, assassinations, technology, entertainment, academics, retail, food… it’s been fascinating for me to see it as a whole, and gratifying to assemble it in a comprehensive format that no longer needs to be a working portfolio.

THIS SITE
The drawn and painted illustration work Stephen did from 1976 until he transitioned to the computer in 1990 (Gallery 1), has never been displayed in conjunction with the digital illustration (Gallery 2, 1990-2018), and the fine art (Gallery 3). [Note that some gallery images reveal a mini-gallery of related images.] “Stephen” serves as a visual “About” page, and reminded both of us how much his working life was an inseparable and joyful part of our family life.

Illustrators don't often get a gallery exhibit. It’s an event typically reserved for artists, intended to establish an audience and build a following over time. In contrast, illustration is experienced in our environment, as we travel through our busy lives from one activity to the next. Books, magazines, signage, packaging, editorial cartoons, advertising, movie and television promotion, websites, video games--they’re so common we almost don't recognize them as something created by human individuals, especially given the hidden arts and trickery of digital media. Those involved are rarely as well known as Don Draper. The purpose of commercial communication is to serve the interests of the audience and the seller, not the creators.

For our friends who aren’t in “the business” and may want to know more, I’ll describe it from my experience.

There are many categories of illustration. While I’ve learned a few things about them in my career as a graphic designer, what I know for sure about being an illustrator is what I've witnessed as Stephen's wife. Watching him navigate the illustrator's path with a natural instinct for the craft and business, I learned firsthand the essence of what illustration is, and what it’s not.

IT’S NOT ART.
I've heard people refer to Stephen as an artist. While that’s accurate in regards to his paintings, and they undoubtedly meant it as a compliment, it actually represents a basic misunderstanding of the difference between fine art and illustration. He's the first to correct that, and he isn't just being humble. There's a real distinction that deserves definition.

The main difference is the source from which the artwork originates. Art is generated by an individual, pursuing one's own ideas and expressing them freely. Illustration communicates a concept designed to sell, promote or educate the viewer on behalf of a business or institution. There are historical exceptions, but generally speaking... it's the basic source of motivation that matters.

Some illustration can transcend this source of creation to become more art-like; and some art can be nothing more than glorified illustration. But the practice of illustration is a commission based activity, not a personal pursuit of one’s own. Calling it "art" doesn't really make it better, and actually diminishes the core value of self-realization of the true artist.

IT’S DEMANDING.
Illustration requires imagination, discipline, determination, speed, problem-solving ability and many long hours at the drawing table. Unlike photography or graphic design, the only physical elements to start with are the client’s notes, some reference materials and a blank canvas or screen.

To be successful the illustrator must have an ability to maintain consistency while still responding to each project’s requirements. Stephen often expressed a desire to create a specialized style, knowing that the specialization would set him apart from other illustrators. The demand for his realistic rendering abilities kept pushing him to continue in that direction, and eventually became a style in itself — generalization as a specialization. It allowed him to flex with markets, regions, trends and subject matter. Although the realistic work is highly labor intensive he developed a skill set for it, and kept ramping up the content until every piece was more complex than the last.

From a folder of information provided to the illustrator at the onset of a job, a realistic scene, portrait or concept must be created out of one’s head and heart. Realistic renderings have to look polished and finished to feel natural. Flaws or errors are readily visible. Being able to visualize light, shadow, and form that isn’t there, and bring it to life, is essential.

There are pressures that never relent, unique to those who face a blank canvas every time. No one is going to hire you because they like you. They have to trust in your talent, reliability and ability to flex with clients’ and associates’ opinions and ideas. Every job has to succeed in its goals, and while the illustration isn't the whole package, it's a powerful component. Stephen used to say quite often, “ I’m only as good as my last job." I sometimes felt he was too hard on himself, but I knew he had to meet his own high standards. He drove himself to make each one better than the last.

IT’S FAST. VERY FAST.
There’s little room for trial and error. Stephen's deadlines generally ranged from two hours to two weeks. Many late nights and weekends. A systematic process becomes extremely important given the pressures of deadlines, and even more so if one's style is representational (realistic). Even with my art background I was amazed that he knew how to build the image, step-by-step, day after day until --typically a week to ten days after start--it was finished. There were days when he was doing small spot illustrations for H-E-B or science textbooks when I witnessed him turn out as many as six or eight finished illustrations a day.

IT’S SOLITARY.
There’s a team of creatives providing support and cheering the illustrator on, but when an assignment comes in the responsibility for delivering final art is on a single pair of hands. It can be stressful and demanding. (This is where the deep sea diving training served Stephen well. If you panic you’re done for.) No one is going to step in and finish it if you come down with the flu in the middle of the job. No one is gathering in a gallery space with wine and hors d’oeuvres, waiting for you to show up and talk about your work when a job is completed. With a client and creative team to satisfy, you have to develop a high standard of your own and be true to that standard every time, and remain humble in the background. The satisfaction of a job well done becomes the reward. Good or bad, what was created yesterday will appear in public tomorrow for thousands, or millions, of people to see.

IT’S NOT ALWAYS CREATIVE.
These conditions can be extremely limiting, even damaging, to creativity. An illustrator can start to feel like a machine. Habits form that defy traditional art methods, and require unlearning when transitioning to creating one’s own artwork. In addition to focusing on each job it's critical that a freelancer be working on self-promotional work simultaneously. It's challenging to make time to try new techniques, methods or styles. The market demands it, and competition is a constant.

IT’S PERSONAL.
Stephen's work ethic was one of the qualities I fell in love with when I met him. I loved working, too, and was inspired by his commitment to working hard and to his high standards. With very little art education and growing up in a small Texas town, some would see those as obstacles.

Not Stephen.

When I met him in 1977, at age 25 he had already been trained and certified in Oakland, California as a deep sea diving welder, the youngest student in an international group. Their fate, if they completed the challenging training, was to go on to weld placement and repairs—underwater-- of offshore oil rigs in highly dangerous conditions, and be rewarded well for the risk and skill. Stephen came home to Texas knowing he wasn’t interested in that career route, but he loved welding, so he returned to welding decompression chambers in the shipyards on the southeast Texas coast.

As a kid Stephen was never all that interested in what was happening at school, but at home he loved to draw. He figured out that somebody was making a living doing that after being inspired by magazines and advertising. He took a few college art classes at the University of Houston and Lamar University in Beaumont and started to build a portfolio. Transitioning from welding to illustrating was practically overnight. It was a lucky day in 1976—a Sunday afternoon portfolio presentation— when Larry McEntire hired him at Lonestar Studio in Houston, at the recommendation of another illustrator, Tom Evans. Two weeks of welding all day and working for Larry at night completed the entire transition.

IT’S A BUSINESS.
Larry gave him an excellent start, introducing him to people in the business in Houston and encouraging him. During that time and with Larry's guidance, Stephen won a Merit Award from the New York Art Director's Club in early 1977, only months after getting started, an honor that later felt like it might have been too soon. The expectations so early on made a few first jobs less than smooth running, but assured him that there might actually be a future in this illustration thing. We got married in 1978 and moved to Austin, where he set up a studio in the Scarbrough Building on Congress Ave. and started freelancing. In 1979 we moved to Los Angeles to further our careers, spending three wonderful years there before settling in San Antonio.

After launching his freelance career he was continuously employed—self-employed for the next forty years—one illustration at a time, typically a week or two in scope, with no guarantee of work beyond each assignment. He reveled in having a business to develop and a family to support. I never wavered in my belief in his ability to keep it going. His talent was so visible and his drive and passion for it so single-minded. I was proud of him and in awe of his ability to make something so hard look so easy. He loved everything about it.

Stephen was very fortunate to have representation, at various phases, in New York, Los Angeles, Houston, Dallas, Austin and San Antonio. All top notch professionals, his agents provided support by procuring jobs, negotiating prices and deadlines and doing billing, allowing him to focus on illustrating. They also allowed him to take on more work, stay focused on his work and stay sane.

THANK YOU
As much as we would love to name everyone now who supported, encouraged and helped Stephen through the years, we tried to write that list… agents, associates, clients, friends, family… it was overwhelming. If you are reading this, you are one of them. We are extremely grateful.

If you know Stephen, you know he was never one to blow his own horn, but I can. I feel we should all advocate for the work we’ve done—give it a voice and a presence. This is good work. We found an indescribable joy in the making. We sincerely hope you find joy in the looking.

—Martha Durke
August 2020