Faced with a stone wall and a shelf of supplies behind him, 76-year-old Robert Verdonck spends his time sitting before a propped easel in the basement of his Monroe home with a brush in his right hand, filling in the scene of a bar from his former home in Sugar Camp.
The town, where Verdonck lived for 27 years, is about 14 miles north of Rhinelander, in the Northwoods. The bar scene began with a photo taken years ago, while assorted friends and family sat discussing the events of the day. The photo became the inspiration for the half-finished painting currently sitting on the easel, the top filled with vibrant color while the bottom outlines a few people in a contrast of white.
Verdonck has a number of projects around his home, from the empty gold frames below the stairs to the nearly-done miniature train set, complete with tiny, carved homes affixed with electrical wires to light up the structures once the countryside is painted green and the train engine arrives.
Painting is in his blood, he said.
"When I paint or carve, it's like I'm in a different world," Verdonck said. "My paintings, I love to tell a story. I want to focus on the people."
* * *
Verdonck began his career as an artist at a young age. Not only did his father paint, but so did his uncles and his grandfather. Even an ancestor once taught Rembrandt, Verdonck points out proudly with a book in his hand highlighting the information.
Born in 1940 in St. Nichols, Belgium, the Flemish artist spent his first 13 years in the country of his forefathers before sailing to the United States with his parents. His father found work as a custodian, tending buildings in Chicago.
Verdonck said while he attended school, he would go to the second-grade classroom for English lessons, then spend the rest of the day with his fellow classmates in the seventh grade. He eventually became a translator for his parents, who only knew Flemish. Answering the phone to hear a maintenance complaint on behalf of his father after school or helping his mother and father decipher jokes by Milton Berle, which didn't always translate, became a common daily task.
A neighbor, Gene Hall, helped hone Verdonck's artistic abilities. Verdonck had used pastels as a child, copying his father while sitting next to him with a smaller canvas. Hall said the young painter had talent, but needed to "loosen up" with his landscapes. Hall told Verdonck he could visit twice a week for lessons.
For months, the pupil would use either black or white in broad strokes on the canvas, not drawing anything specific, just working on the form of his brushstrokes. Then one day, Hall laid out colors and asked Verdonck to paint a rag. Once he was done with the cloth, Hall told him to paint a Raggedy Ann doll, which Verdonck did. Hall worked primarily with paintings of people, his focus on religious pieces. While Verdonck credited his father with his painting ability, he said Hall was the driving force behind his talent for faces. The Verdonck home in Monroe has a handful of paintings on every wall of the expressive people Verdonck has met in his life.
After five years in the U.S., Verdonck's parents both gained their citizenship; Verdonck was 18 and had to pass the test himself, which he did. Because of his ability to paint in high school, he was one of two students selected to attend the Chicago Art Institute for free. Following his education, and after a stint in the Army as a medical unit cook in 1963, Verdonck took up the profession of his father and became a custodian. He serviced five apartment buildings in Chicago. During his first marriage, he had a son named Bobby, and eventually divorced.
* * *
Verdonck was dealt a blow in 1969. While throwing trash in the back of a dump truck, he was unaware the crushing blades were activated by workmen who had gone down to the basement of one of his buildings. They had encouraged him to toss the 55-gallon paper waste barrel into the back of the truck.
"All of a sudden, I couldn't shake anymore, and I looked up and it was cutting my barrel in half," Verdonck said. "If I hadn't have pulled out, it would have cut me in half. The other blade is on the bottom, but the bottom one doesn't go up slow like the top, it goes fast. It lifted me right off the ground."
He managed to pull his right arm out unscathed, but his left had to be yanked out and sustained injuries from his shoulder downward. With no time, his wrist was caught by the two blades, and the top came down to pull his hand off of his arm.
A number of surgeries later, only part of his palm and his thumb were left. After a year's recovery, he went back to work as an engineer to deal with high pressure boilers in a nine-story building.
But it was more than a hand he lost in that accident. Verdonck hung a painting, roughly 6 feet wide, in the sitting room of his house. Within the black background are faces, all drawn in varying emotions. The large painting was meant to be auctioned in New York the week he lost his hand, but the injury forced the artist into hospital care, and he was never able to sell the piece for what he had hoped would be a large profit.
Life went on following his divorce, and Verdonck eventually bought a 100-foot wide lot of land in northern Wisconsin. He found a job working for Nicolet College in Rhinelander as a carpenter, and then at the local elementary school as a custodian.
He married Georgia, now his wife for 31 years, and the couple ran an art gallery from 1977 to 2004 before they moved to Monroe. Verdonck said he considers the gallery, which displayed his works of people and landscapes, a success. Verdonck said he and his wife met people from throughout the country and the world through the gallery and sold pieces of his artwork during the 27 years of its operation.
Verdonck also added four people to his family, with the addition of Georgia's three biological children and one foster child. The daughter Verdonck found later in life also took an interest in art as well - he said he had given her his books and helped her with her artwork.
Despite the additions, Verdonck suffered a loss too. His son Bobby died of Leukemia at the age of 40. A framed photo with the words "Remember Bobby" also hangs in their home.
* * *
The couple moved to Monroe in 2004 to be closer to a quality healthcare system. They remain active, participating in VFW potlucks and events, and sharing their love of classic cars. They have also enjoyed the company of their 4-pound pup named Tobi for the last nine years.
Humble and modest about his pieces, the energetic Verdonck hopped around to show off the pieces that decorate each room of their house, telling a story of how they came to be and what the meaning is behind each title, telling jokes about some of the circumstances, and sharing small details about people he knew a decade ago.
Verdonck said he was happy to be a janitor and of the life he has lived, but wanted more for the admirers of his artwork.
"It would be nice if I got known," Verdonck said. "But not for me, but the people who liked me paintings, and bought my paintings."
Verdonck said he still has plans for the paintings he has yet to do. Frames set up against the wall already have a designation; one will hold the half-finished painting still set on his easel, and the other will hopefully frame the self-portrait he plans to start some day.
The town, where Verdonck lived for 27 years, is about 14 miles north of Rhinelander, in the Northwoods. The bar scene began with a photo taken years ago, while assorted friends and family sat discussing the events of the day. The photo became the inspiration for the half-finished painting currently sitting on the easel, the top filled with vibrant color while the bottom outlines a few people in a contrast of white.
Verdonck has a number of projects around his home, from the empty gold frames below the stairs to the nearly-done miniature train set, complete with tiny, carved homes affixed with electrical wires to light up the structures once the countryside is painted green and the train engine arrives.
Painting is in his blood, he said.
"When I paint or carve, it's like I'm in a different world," Verdonck said. "My paintings, I love to tell a story. I want to focus on the people."
* * *
Verdonck began his career as an artist at a young age. Not only did his father paint, but so did his uncles and his grandfather. Even an ancestor once taught Rembrandt, Verdonck points out proudly with a book in his hand highlighting the information.
Born in 1940 in St. Nichols, Belgium, the Flemish artist spent his first 13 years in the country of his forefathers before sailing to the United States with his parents. His father found work as a custodian, tending buildings in Chicago.
Verdonck said while he attended school, he would go to the second-grade classroom for English lessons, then spend the rest of the day with his fellow classmates in the seventh grade. He eventually became a translator for his parents, who only knew Flemish. Answering the phone to hear a maintenance complaint on behalf of his father after school or helping his mother and father decipher jokes by Milton Berle, which didn't always translate, became a common daily task.
A neighbor, Gene Hall, helped hone Verdonck's artistic abilities. Verdonck had used pastels as a child, copying his father while sitting next to him with a smaller canvas. Hall said the young painter had talent, but needed to "loosen up" with his landscapes. Hall told Verdonck he could visit twice a week for lessons.
For months, the pupil would use either black or white in broad strokes on the canvas, not drawing anything specific, just working on the form of his brushstrokes. Then one day, Hall laid out colors and asked Verdonck to paint a rag. Once he was done with the cloth, Hall told him to paint a Raggedy Ann doll, which Verdonck did. Hall worked primarily with paintings of people, his focus on religious pieces. While Verdonck credited his father with his painting ability, he said Hall was the driving force behind his talent for faces. The Verdonck home in Monroe has a handful of paintings on every wall of the expressive people Verdonck has met in his life.
After five years in the U.S., Verdonck's parents both gained their citizenship; Verdonck was 18 and had to pass the test himself, which he did. Because of his ability to paint in high school, he was one of two students selected to attend the Chicago Art Institute for free. Following his education, and after a stint in the Army as a medical unit cook in 1963, Verdonck took up the profession of his father and became a custodian. He serviced five apartment buildings in Chicago. During his first marriage, he had a son named Bobby, and eventually divorced.
* * *
Verdonck was dealt a blow in 1969. While throwing trash in the back of a dump truck, he was unaware the crushing blades were activated by workmen who had gone down to the basement of one of his buildings. They had encouraged him to toss the 55-gallon paper waste barrel into the back of the truck.
"All of a sudden, I couldn't shake anymore, and I looked up and it was cutting my barrel in half," Verdonck said. "If I hadn't have pulled out, it would have cut me in half. The other blade is on the bottom, but the bottom one doesn't go up slow like the top, it goes fast. It lifted me right off the ground."
He managed to pull his right arm out unscathed, but his left had to be yanked out and sustained injuries from his shoulder downward. With no time, his wrist was caught by the two blades, and the top came down to pull his hand off of his arm.
A number of surgeries later, only part of his palm and his thumb were left. After a year's recovery, he went back to work as an engineer to deal with high pressure boilers in a nine-story building.
But it was more than a hand he lost in that accident. Verdonck hung a painting, roughly 6 feet wide, in the sitting room of his house. Within the black background are faces, all drawn in varying emotions. The large painting was meant to be auctioned in New York the week he lost his hand, but the injury forced the artist into hospital care, and he was never able to sell the piece for what he had hoped would be a large profit.
Life went on following his divorce, and Verdonck eventually bought a 100-foot wide lot of land in northern Wisconsin. He found a job working for Nicolet College in Rhinelander as a carpenter, and then at the local elementary school as a custodian.
He married Georgia, now his wife for 31 years, and the couple ran an art gallery from 1977 to 2004 before they moved to Monroe. Verdonck said he considers the gallery, which displayed his works of people and landscapes, a success. Verdonck said he and his wife met people from throughout the country and the world through the gallery and sold pieces of his artwork during the 27 years of its operation.
Verdonck also added four people to his family, with the addition of Georgia's three biological children and one foster child. The daughter Verdonck found later in life also took an interest in art as well - he said he had given her his books and helped her with her artwork.
Despite the additions, Verdonck suffered a loss too. His son Bobby died of Leukemia at the age of 40. A framed photo with the words "Remember Bobby" also hangs in their home.
* * *
The couple moved to Monroe in 2004 to be closer to a quality healthcare system. They remain active, participating in VFW potlucks and events, and sharing their love of classic cars. They have also enjoyed the company of their 4-pound pup named Tobi for the last nine years.
Humble and modest about his pieces, the energetic Verdonck hopped around to show off the pieces that decorate each room of their house, telling a story of how they came to be and what the meaning is behind each title, telling jokes about some of the circumstances, and sharing small details about people he knew a decade ago.
Verdonck said he was happy to be a janitor and of the life he has lived, but wanted more for the admirers of his artwork.
"It would be nice if I got known," Verdonck said. "But not for me, but the people who liked me paintings, and bought my paintings."
Verdonck said he still has plans for the paintings he has yet to do. Frames set up against the wall already have a designation; one will hold the half-finished painting still set on his easel, and the other will hopefully frame the self-portrait he plans to start some day.