Ronald Cortez Herd II began drawing at the age of two because he had a speech problem. Twenty years later, he can’t stop using his deep, swift Southern drawl-one of many trademarks-to talk about his artwork.
Looking back on his youth in Memphis, Herd said his friends were mostly on TV, so he began drawing cartoon characters, but never stick figures he’s quick to point out.
Now that he’s a senior in printmaking at Washington University’s School of Art, what he (or R2C2H2 as he’s known) depicts in his work includes music legends such as Billie Holliday in “Lady & The Blues” to historical figures such as Emmett Till, which is on display along with 14 others through May at Prince Hall on N. Newstead. (see sidebar) Herd says his paintings-which have been seen in shows as far east as Memphis and as far west as California-are a Cliff’s notes guide to his life and the experiences of African-Americans.
“Art is my diary,” he said. “I live my life to the fullest because you never know.you walk through the valley everyday.”
Living this well-rounded life takes Herd every other Thursday to a nonprofit health clinic on N. Grand, in an area in St. Louis with the highest proportion of AIDS cases. Through the Chips In Motion, Reach to Teach program, he helps teach children and senior citizens about health through the arts, anything from dancing, acting, and of course printmaking. For his work in this group, he was recently selected as one of 50 winners-out of 14,000 entrants- to win the $1,000 Double Mint Ace Grant Award, given for community involvement and the arts. He’ll also get money for every ‘ace’ served up by the Williams sisters through June, with the possibility to meet them.
Herd keeps all of his ideas in his head and when the creative spark ignites, he has to get them out. He has 10 full sketchbooks to document these moments, usually accompanied with music in some form. (Music is essential, he said. For the past two and a half years he’s taught himself to play the cornet and trumpet.) His life he likens to a marathon that he’ll jog-not sprint-to the finish because, “I don’t want to burn out.” And to slow down would be miss out on life. “If you don’t live, music won’t come out your horn,” he explained.
On a good night, Herd gets four to five hours of sleep, because he’ll spend anywhere from one to 10 hours daily drawing and inking his prints-often by hand with a BIC pen. That’s in addition to coursework (and grade requirements to maintain his full-tuition Ervin Scholarship to WU). On a campus where it’s easy to separate the insomniacs from the sleepers, Herd’s status remains indecipherable to the outside observer. Full of energy and spirit, you’d never guess he spent half the night creating for the joy of it. What keeps him going is his philosophy that, “If you believe in something that is bigger than you, you’ll find the energy it takes.”
One day, Herd will be famous. He’s certain of this, although not pompous or overbearing. He’s eccentric but not unapproachable, full of quick Southern wit and knowledge to talk intelligently with anyone about anything. “If you wanna get creative, you gotta know about a lot of stuff,” he said.
Herd has won the Association of Black Students “Mr. Knowledge Award” three years now. He’s loud when you’re with him, but quiet when you’re not. Built like a linebacker and always jolly and with a boisterous laugh that can command attention-perhaps envy-in the loudest of rooms. Affable and charismatic, he’s one of those people who seem to have it together; ‘it’ being, well, life purpose.
His goal?
“I want to be in a position where I can help folks. I’ve got to help my self first, make sure my house and foundation is strong. Then I’ll help other people and make their houses stronger. I want to teach the world how to love beautiful things.”
Herd’s appearance reflects his carefully thought-out philosophy. His hands are often inky; especially the left one. More often than not his left hand bears the quintessential left-handed mark blue smudges from the pinky on down. (Wet ink of that sort, because we tend to create from left to right doesn’t affect righties.)
“I try to get the most use of my hands as possible,” he said.
He clenches a fist when talking about his artistic competition: “I like to study them and then, BAM!” His voice startles a nearly silent, half-full Holmes Lounge one afternoon.
To see Herd without a dark cab-driver hat is a rare day indeed. Ask him why he wears it and he’s not bashful.
“So no evil, stupid ideas don’t penetrate my head,” he said, adding he’s done so since junior high school.
In short, he’s protective of his mind, his art and his future. Thanks in part to an aggressive-but not overbearing-desire to market himself, and a talent to merit the attention-Herd’s colorful, emotive prints will have been seen in at least 20 shows by the time he graduates next month. He religiously scours ads for art shows everyday online and in the art school. More often than not, he enters. And more often than not, his work makes the cut.
That’s how his work can be seen now if you happen to chance through the California State University in Chico. He and artists from all over the country submitted 600 works to the Janet Turner Print Gallery Competition, hoping to be one of the chosen 60. Herd’s work “The Primitivity” earned an honorable mention and will be featured in the brochure.
This past winter he sold “Bird in Flight,” a print of jazz composer and saxophonist Charlie Parker for $1500 to a woman from London, who happened to pass through the Art St. Louis show last semester. (There were 654 pieces submitted, 49 chosen overall. Herd-the youngest artist on display-had two.) He had already returned home to Memphis for winter break when he heard of the interested buyer. Through a series of coincidences involving a wedding the buyer was to attend in Memphis, the pair met up at the southern-classic Peabody Hotel. It was his first big sale and her first big purchase. The pair promised to keep in touch.
During the spring semester, the St. Louis Urban League sponsored Herd’s one man show “Evolution of Style” for nearly two months at the Vaughn Cultural Center. On display were 34 works, one of which he sold for $300. About the 33 unsold works, Herd said “My prices are too high for St. Louis.”
Post-Dispatch Art Critic Jeff Daniels said in a March review of Herd’s show: “If evolution is all about the survival of the fittest, then these works show that Herd has the ability to not only survive, but to possibly even thrive.”
Lately though, not everyone has been thrilled with his work. His print depicting Emmett Till-the black teenager from Chicago beaten and shot to death for whistling at a white woman in Mississippi in 1955-has been on display in Prince Hall downtown as part of an initiative to decorate the building with creations by St. Louis artists. The problem is simple: Till is shown-accurately Herd points out-in his open-casket, face bloated and body beaten. This picture rests in the halls of a building through which children and their parents, seeking therapy, walk everyday. When Herd found out some people were objecting to the piece, on a “very cloudy, grey, rainy Friday,” he recalled, he went to see for himself. He stood quietly amongst the onlookers and listened. He remembered security guards calling the work “garbage” and a “disgrace” especially during Black History Month. To placate the situation, the man in charge of the gallery-who had recruited Herd-took pictures of the print and sent them to the Governor’s office in Jefferson City. (As a federally-funded building, they have the final authority.)
But the controversy seems to have worn down, Herd said. “I haven’t heard back, so I guess it’s ok.”
He’s not sure where the future will take him. He’s applied for fellowships throughout the country and hopes to work at the Harlem Studio Art Museum in New York if accepted in their one year program, complete with studio and stipend.
And if not? He’s got another alternative clearly mapped out.
“I’m going to get a durable car and drive around and promote my art,” he said. “I want a car that suits a big man with big ideas.”