Jon C Croft

Oil on Wood.

Finding Inspiration.

Chairs for Terry: A Tribute to a Seattle Artist

Most of my 20s were spent immersed in the Seattle music scene of the 90s, working in guitar stores. During that time, I met so many interesting characters and found inspiration in unexpected places. One of those inspiring people was a local artist named Terry Turrell.

I knew Terry as one of the many creatives working in the Pike Place Market. For years, he sold hand painted t-shirts featuring his unique style and helped his partner at her stall. But it wasn’t until I started working at Emerald City Guitars in Pioneer Square in February of 1998 that I discovered the full scope of his creative talent.

Terry was a regular at the shop and a friend of Jay Boone, the owner. We’d talk guitars and classic cars, and I knew he played and painted, but his true depth as an artist didn’t hit me until I stumbled upon an article in the Seattle Times in August of 1998. The piece described his prolific output of paintings and sculptures that truly resonated with me. (Seattle Artist Terry Turrell Took A Long, Winding Path To Creating Direct Art | The Seattle Times)

A couple of days after reading the article, I went into the Grover / Thurston Gallery where Terry was showing his work and just happened to be located in Pioneer Square and about a block away from Emerald City Guitars.

I’d never walked into a gallery and felt so deeply moved. Terry’s paintings and sculpture were beautiful and haunting. Detailed yet rough and textured. Without touching them, I felt them, emotionally, spiritually. I connected with the work. I believe this was partly due to the fact that I knew the person that created the work. Many times before, whether in a museum or in a gallery, the idea of who and what an artist was seemed out of reach. I knew Terry to be a humble and kind person that was devoid of pretension.

The next time I saw Terry in the shop, I couldn’t help but tell him how much I admired his work. He seemed genuinely touched, though a little shy about the attention. As the article said, he’d rather talk about other things, and when in the shop, it was guitars and classic cars. But something sparked, and I shared about my own lifelong dabbling in art and asked him about his journey. His answer was an honest answer, free from any pretense. He shared, “I’m over 50, I’ve been at this a long time…” but that success wasn’t his driving force. The process was his reward.

A couple of weeks later, I got the most unexpected invitation – lunch at Terry’s house and a visit to his workshop.

That day sticks with me. We spent hours in his basement workshop, techniques and processes unfolding before my eyes. He shared with me that many of the pieces he painted were derived from surfaces he found. Old doors, scrap lumber left on the side of road, discarded crates. We talked about the symbolism in his art, the meaning behind his figures… or sometimes, the lack of it. That’s when the chairs caught my eye. In many of his paintings I sha chairs. People in chairs animals in chairs, chairs floating in the sky, just…chairs. I had to ask. Terry smiled, and said sometimes, he just liked chairs.

He was incredibly generous with his time, even showing me how he sculpted his hauntingly beautiful wooden figures. He put a Dremel tool in my hand, and though my attempt at a face was less than successful, the experience was electrifying.

Afterwards, over sandwiches and coffee, I felt a deep connection with this man whose work I admired. He’d shown me a glimpse of his process, his home – his heart.

A week later, Terry stopped by the shop and handed me a small package. “Lonni and I wanted you to have this,” he said. Inside was a Dremel tool. Even now, it’s one of my most treasured possessions. As an aspiring artist at the time, Terry’s gesture felt like the ultimate vote of confidence.

Since that visit with Terry, I have continued to paint and sculpt, and I still use that Dremel. I have not been as prolific as Terry, but his words “I’ve been doing this for a long time” still echoes in my ears, and I continue to find that the process is indeed the reward.

I share this, and my painting “Chairs for Terry,” as a tribute to an inspiring man. So many of my own paintings now feature chairs, a small homage to the day Terry Turrell let me into his workshop, and to see his heart.