By Robert Beck

I painted in the Dakota Bar (72nd and Columbus) the week before Christmas. The decorated tree added a layer of complexity to the task. More than just being identifiable as a holiday tree, it had to belong in the painting. The tiny lights are tricky. The least bit of cartoonishness would tank the whole thing.

Another major concern was how the lighting would change due to the large windows looking out on the shortest days of the year. It would be light outside when I began and dark when I finished. Having those two concerns in mind as I set up my kit got in the way of my noticing that the large, fantastic chandelier contained a bunch of saxophones.

A painting isn’t an assemblage of things but a depiction of a whole. The tree, the bartender, the lights out the window — all of the elements — are of a specific place and time, but time has its own agenda and doesn’t negotiate as it zips along. You bring your best game, try to get it right, and see where you land.

From my perspective, the Dakota is a young person’s bar. People were meeting friends, smiling, laughing, and talking over the music, while Irene Cara belted What A Feeling from Flashdance. The staff — that night it was Lily, Mary, and Valenti — was friendly and competent, threading quickly through the guests, taking and delivering food and drink orders. Everybody was moving to the same rhythm.

The work in busy restaurants and bars is relentless, and everybody has to act as a team. Like most businesses, you can tell a lot about management by the attitude of the employees. You can see it in the interactions with the customers and each other. The Dakota staff was nice. They clicked.

I began painting right before the bar opened at 3:30. The place was still setting up, stretching, and getting ready for an active night. The staff made sure I had everything I needed. A few customers came in here and there. It was another hour before people started arriving in groups, and the energy began to ramp up. By then I had the image blocked in, but with none of the bright lights. Get the bones first.

Valenti reached behind the bar, and suddenly the lighting changed dramatically. He smiled at me and said, “Better, huh?” I smiled back. It was vastly different, but I knew that could happen. I applied the new lighting to my image of the room, effectively painting it a second time. I had created the forms, and now I would dress them with light and shadow. That’s how you stop time.

The staff was very busy, and the customers were having a lot of fun. That would stretch into the night. I was done about 6:00 and had my kit packed onto my luggage cart by 6:30. I grabbed a small table and ordered a drink and dinner. Both were very good. Satisfaction and relief come from knowing the job is done, which I suppose is the sentiment all the other people enjoying a night at the Dakota were sharing. What a feeling.

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See more of Robert Beck’s work and visit his UWS studio at www.robertbeck.net. Let him know if you have a connection to an archetypical UWS place or event that would make a good West Side Canvas subject. Thank you!

Note: Before Robert Beck started West Side Canvas, his essays and paintings were featured in Weekend Column. Click on the links to read.

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