The sculptor John Ahearn wasn’t looking for a new muse when he stopped by a high-school portrait show around the corner from his South Bronx studio two years ago. But he was struck by a realist oil painting depicting drowsy subway riders. “It was really deep and beautifully painted,” he recalled recently. When he met the artist, eighteen-year-old Devon Rodriguez, he was taken aback again: the boy’s angular black hairline and V-neck T-shirt reminded him “exactly” of a Picasso self-portrait from 1906.
Ahearn said, “When I mentioned it to him, he picked up his iPhone and instantly goes, ‘You mean this one?’ ” Ahearn, who is sixty-five, was stunned. “It took him one second and he had the image for me! I had only used flip phones, so that was amazing.”
“I just Googled it,” Rodriguez said the other day at Ahearn’s studio.
Although Rodriguez played it cool at the time, he was quietly awed by Ahearn as well. He recognized the older artist as the sculptor who became famous in the nineties, after installing bronze statues of everyday Bronx residents roller-skating or walking a pit bull outside the borough’s Forty-fourth Police Precinct. (He relocated them to a sculpture park in Queens when some people complained that they perpetuated negative stereotypes.) “I always wanted to be cast by John, but when I met him I didn’t want to be pushy or act like a fan, so I let it go,” Rodriguez said.
The encounter marked the beginning of a long, mutually beneficial friendship. Rodriguez, who is now twenty, has since taught Ahearn how to use his new iPhone; Ahearn has captured Rodriguez’s likeness in a series of plaster masks. They show the young artist in a white V-neck T-shirt—just like the one Picasso wore in his self-portrait. In some of them the eyelids look heavy, Rodriguez explained, because he stayed up all night before the sitting. “I didn’t trust myself to wake up early, so I went in super tired. John decided to capture that.”
“World-Weary” (2014). The sculptor John Ahearn was struck by this realistic oil painting, a work by Devon Rodriguez that depicts passengers on the subway.
Two of the plaster portraits are now on view at the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery as part of its triennial portrait competition. Ahearn said that he had wanted to insert ordinary Bronx faces among the ranks of the rich and famous. Pulling out a catalogue for his 1991 survey, “South Bronx Hall of Fame,” he said, “A hall of fame is about important people,” adding that the title of the show “was meant as a twist.”
“You should put that on Instagram,” Rodriguez interrupted, pointing to the book’s cover, “and write ‘hashtag TBT.’ ”
Ahearn narrowed his eyes in confusion, then decided not to ask.
Ahearn gave his ticket to the opening gala of the Smithsonian show to Rodriguez. The young man took the bus down to Washington, D.C., with his aunt. Over Martinis and flan, he marvelled at the lavish scene. “I’ve been to art openings before, but nothing this fancy,” he said. He explained that he’d first become aware of Ahearn from the 1983 graffiti movie “Wild Style,” directed by Charlie Ahearn, John’s twin brother.
When Rodriguez was younger, he said, “I was doing graffiti, because I’m from the South Bronx and that’s the only art those kids do. But I got arrested when I was thirteen, so I started doing portraits.” He went on to graduate from the High School of Art and Design and later enrolled at the Fashion Institute of Technology.
But he had a confession to make—something “even John doesn’t know.” Over the past year, a gallery in Colorado had been selling his canvases faster than he could paint them. He said, “I didn’t have time to paint, because I had classes all the time. I figured, if I’m making money from this, why am I wasting my time doing work just for a grade?” On Thursday nights, when many New York artists are in Chelsea for gallery openings, Rodriguez was stuck in psychology class. So he decided to drop out.
Now he spends most of his time painting. “John will want me to stay in school,” he said, conceding that “painting is a wishy-washy” career that doesn’t guarantee a paycheck. A moment later, though, he was posing for an Instagram op with his plaster portrait. After all, he said, “I give off Picasso vibes.” ♦