Matt McGoff was an artist of real power and a devoted friend of mine. He left an assertive body of work that has been witnessed by too meager an audience. Wednesday, June 8th, would have been his 50th birthday. This post is dedicated to Matt, his art, and our friendship. A wisecrackin’ Irish kid from the working class Philadelphia suburb of Folcroft, Matt was, save a couple months in New Orleans, a life long resident of the City of Brotherly Love and an alumnus of the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts.
He wasn’t at the Hussian School of Art long before a teacher there told him he was a natural painter and chased him off to PAFA. Oil painting was just in the boy’s bones. Bright, if not somewhat naive regarding the “fine arts,” motivated, a voracious reader, and a talented athlete whose principle craft heretofore had been baseball, The Academy suited Matt. The young artist flourished under the discipline and let’s just say the social environment suited the good looking young jock’s philandering ways.
This picture of youth is, I believe, from circa 1980. The pompadour would be gone in a bit over a decade.
Next to the image of our young friend is a painting of a dancer who was a principle model during the late 90’s and in whose father’s house I was a boarder for my last 18 months in Philly. To the right of her is a watercolor of the occasional male nude.
It wasn’t his style to dawdle over details. He attacked the basic structure with a brush or palette knife as evident in the unfinished female nude on the left, the slightly more developed painting of Kathy in the center, or a completed sketch from a 10-15 minute pose. Matt worked from life, at great expense over the years. Just ask any artist who plies their trade dependent on a hired subject. The landscapes are there, and the still lives, as harshly lit as the nudes, but it was the body of work with a model that he pursued when finances allowed.
As someone who still goes to life drawing on a regular basis, it’s an impetus to focus. Not that he was one to brood quietly working himself into a Sturm Und Drang sweat. He was a pretty lively guy and couldn’t harness his humor and need to interact for long. I drew alongside Matt on several occasions when I made one of many return trips to Philly. We ‘d head off to The Sketch Club or The Plastic Club on Camac Street or pop over to The Fleisher Art Memorial for open life sessions. He was pretty loose and jocular, knew a lot of the models and many of the artists present. He definitely worked fast, in ink, ballpoints and later gels, in old ledger books. A material preference he copped from me. There might be a period of time when he just sat there doodlin’ away; the noise coming from a pen that was being worked furiously by a heavy hand. He might crack a joke or bust your chops about something. And I most surely heard him humming some Celtic diddy when had his Blarney Stone on. But even when we were dorkin’ around and trading barbs he was focused. The ball field was long in his past, but a vibrant sense of competitiveness thrived in Matt’s marrow. We had mutual respect for each others’ abilities and gobs of self confidence so that when we went off to the drawing clubs, game was on. I’ve had some of my loosest moments, especially with the short poses, sittin’ next to ol’ Irish Eyes.
Below are drawings I did at some of those sessions. It is my hope that as friends of Matt’s send me scans of his that I can add them to this post. Including some drawn from the same poses I drew from.
I did this drawing of Matt in his studio one winter night in 2006, before we headed off to the Sketch Club. He was living in his studio at that time. Just a work space, no kitchen, no shower, virtually no heat. His much adored Boxer, Wilma, had passed away after 13 years, and Matt, no longer needing a home for his dog, cut his expenses and lived exclusively out of the studio.
Sorry, but I’ve had no end to technical problems posting these images and must now retire before I throw this fuckin’ computer thru the window. I’ll try and clean it up this week as I add more about Matt and more images. Thanks.
Don thanks for writing this for Matt. This has been a really tough day for me and it’s nice to see that people remember and appreciate him. I miss him so much.
I never knew Matt well, but I did get to visit his studio a few times thanks to a mutual friend. On the last visit, a few years back, he had a sketch/study thumbtacked to the wall, it seems like he drew it on a discarded architectural sketch. On a whim, I bought it from him (I think it was just as much a whim on his part to sell it). When I got the message from Burt at Christmas that he’d died, I was shocked. He was so full of life.
Hi Don,
Thank you for the post and memories of Matt. Every time you called and said you would be back in town, I could see him bracing for the upcoming battles with you at the Sketch Club, Plastic Club or Fleischer. As you know, Matt did not dish out much praise for other artist’s work (though he always appreciated every artist’s perseverance if they stuck with it). But you I can count among the few he fully respected. He would recount every detail of your sketch classes and ensuing discussion/banter/sparring in our subsequent phone conversations, I think just to savor those moments for a little while longer. For I’m sure he missed you once you headed back home to Chicago.
I will be sure to send additional pictures and scans from the sketch books.
More later……
Gary
Thanks so much for sharing these. I dated Matt for a year or so while in college. We had lost touch, but I was very sorry to learn of his passing. And, I have enjoyed viewing his work through your post. He was truly talented and his work is amazing.
Don,
Thank you for posting your thoughts and the photos of Matthew’s paintings. He thought very highly of you, and told me often. As noted above, he was not given to easy praise, or even approval of other artists, so you are in a proud minority there.
John Paul Turnage
San Francisco
I loved him. I don’t know what else to say.
Well Don, I only just confirmed for myself today what I’ve long suspected, that Mattie had died. Just FYI, the watercolor pictured is his self portrait; I have the original.
He was brilliant, he was funny, he was angry, he was lost. He was my friend, my employer, my boyfriend, my lover. He was as stubborn a person as I have ever met. I wish I could still tell myself that he was in the world somewhere and OK, but…
I worked with Matt at DiLullo’s. He commissioned me to Paint his dog. He made you feel special if he liked you.
Don:
It was today (March 14, 2017) that Matt was on my mind, and that is why I had posted that question on Facebook… then I found the Documentary by John Thornton. You had introduced Matt to us when Holly & I were running Dramaticus Fine Art in Evanston. It was 1998~ and we were so thrilled about his works. We had not seen anybody painting like he did! I am at such a loss for words as to what to say, except that he still resides in my heart, and I see his work every day in my living room. (It is the Bust on the Table canvas)- so, tonight I will make it a point to write him in my journal as I look at his big, beautiful, juicy, rich painting… to let him know how much he has affected my life in such a positive way… and that he is a grave reminder to me as to how much I am grateful for my new sober life, which is now on DAY 2827. Had I not quit in June of 2009, I would have been yet another silent fatality… Wow… what a gifted soul he was… Rick Edward Smith
Thanks for you words Rick. I’m very grateful for the opportunity you and Holly gave Matt. His work certainly deserved a larger audience. I’m very glad you are living a healthy life, stay strong my friend.