Pick-Up Games
By Robert Beck
When I arrive at the basketball court inside the Gertrude Ederle Recreation Center on 60th between Amsterdam and West End, one guy is shooting hoops. There isn’t much room for my easel on the sidelines, just a few feet to the wall. I set up between two parked volleyball net stanchions, looking for any cover I can find. You never know what will unfold over a couple of hours. The walls are lined with mats to soften uncontrolled encounters, but that won’t help where I am.
It’s shortly after noon. Light streams in the windows along one wall. The guy’s sneakers squeak on the varnished floor. He pounds the ball on the boards a couple of times, then he takes a shot. Dribble and shoot. Dribble and shoot. Bam bam squeak…bounce off the rim. Bam squeak bam…swish. A gentle lift onto his toes, a push from his fingertips, the arc to the rim, and nothin’ but net. Bam bam…swish.
Then another guy comes in, and they take turns shooting, retrieving each other’s balls, moving around in a near-balletic fashion, buh-bam bam bounce squeak swish, until two more guys show up and it gets serious. They play half-court two-on-two. Two more guys make it three-on-three.
There is a hierarchy in the room, operating on many levels. I know where I stand in that, and exactly how much leeway will be afforded the stranger painting on the sidelines.
Two people come in and are shooting at my end of the court while the game is going on at the other. Now four guys. Now it’s three-on-three. Bam hey bam bam bounce bam bounce. A guy misses a pass and the ball slaps the wall in front of my easel. Whap. Another bounces off the rim and hits my leg. There is a lot of noise and movement at both ends. Bambam yo squeakbam squeakhey bam bam buh-bam…
I look away from the court toward my painting and sense movement in my periphery. It makes me jump. I start doing that a lot. I’m uncomfortable and distracted. Bambuh-bambamheybambouncewhapbambam.
I’m keeping it simple and trying to complete the image before disaster strikes. And I do. I skip the part where I step back and muse over details that might add that little extra to the narrative or the viewer’s experience. Some other time. I collapse the easel, turn the panel around and secure it paint-side-in to the front, and I can breathe…a little. I pack it on my luggage cart along with my supply bag and dropcloth, grab my coat, and weave my way across the court centerline, the two games miraculously parting as I go.
The Center’s manager sees me putting on my coat and hat in the lobby and says, “You done already?” and I’m thinking: yeah, not a minute too soon.
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See more of Robert Beck’s work and visit his UWS studio at www.robertbeck.net. And 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. See Robert Beck’s earlier columns here and here.
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Another great one, writing and art. And love for Ederle. Thank you!
Thank you for the slam-dunk great painting and I’m grateful for your buzzer-beater exit from the court….
To my MVP from Your Biggest Fan!!!!
I don’t know how these beautiful paintings get done so quickly but we are so lucky to have such a talent focused on the neighborhood. This is another lovely painting and the essay provides the details surrounding the challenges faced in creating it. Thank you for sharing your multiple gifts with us.