David Cogswell | January 28, 2014 1:35 PM ET
Meeting Paul du Toit, and Saying Goodbye
A world renowned painter, sculptor and humanitarian, Paul du Toit created a plaster cast of Nelson Mandela’s hand, capturing forever the form of the hand of the great boxer, litigator, activist and political prisoner turned world leader.
He collaborated with Archbishop Desmond Tutu on a project to benefit the Lunch Box Fund for children. Paul du Toit’s paintings have been a huge hit in the painting world in New York, and he had acclaimed shows in Paris, Moscow and Edinburgh.
Du Toit’s resume would fill more space than this column has room for. Meeting Paul du Toit for me was like hobknobbing with the Olympians.
PHOTO: Paintings in Paul du Toit's Cape Town studio. (All photos by David Cogswell)
His painting is wild, audacious, full of bold color and sweeping, jagged lines, portraying mad faces and figures. It has a childlike quality, reminiscent of the work of Barcelonan painter/sculptor Joan Miró, but supercharged with 21st century cyber-electro-psychedelic power blasted into your face from a fire hose.
Meeting famous people can sometimes be difficult. When Mike von Guilleaume, the founder of MVG, a boutique tour operator that works in partnership with South African Airways Vacations, took me to see du Toit, I didn’t know what to expect.
PHOTO: The Mandela hand cast in the hands of Paul du Toit in his studio.
I knew du Toit was world famous, had worked with Nelson Mandela, and was acclaimed internationally for his art and his public projects. Who am I to stand in the presence of someone who was an intimate of Nelson Mandela?
It is always humbling to meet someone of high stature in the world. Famous people often seem to enter into some other realm of being.
As we drove up the narrow suburban streets to Paul du Toit’s home, it was a little intimidating to approach the encounter.
But any anxieties I had about meeting this famous person evaporated instantly when I encountered him. The moment he appeared his presence loomed so brightly it dissolved every other concern. It was like being in the presence of a flashing meteor.
He stood before me as a completely open-hearted human being. He offered himself as though I were the most important person in the world. He made me feel as if I were the celebrity. I experienced the attitude with which he approaches the world, with great love and reverence, reminiscent of a spiritual leader.
Generosity of spirit gushed out of him like Victoria Falls. He shared freely of his techniques and thought processes as he had created these mind-zapping images. He had the enthusiasm of a small child as he shared everything.
He gave me a copy of a hefty coffee table book of his work, a big bright square with one of his arresting faces on the cover. He gave me a bottle of wine, a special brand made in his honor with his own painting on the label.
PHOTO: My book and wine bottle from Paul du Toit.
But in spite of his dazzling success and the luminosity of his work, his story is not all peaches and cream. At the age of 11 he contracted juvenile rheumatoid arthritis and spent the next three years in and out of the hospital.
The mark on his developing character was profound. At an age that is often carefree, du Toit was learning by experience the great value and fragility of the gift of life. He became of necessity introspective and when he was given books about Picasso and Miró, the images etched deeply into his soul and changed the course of his life.
His rise in the art world was no tea party either. To rise from the streets of Johannesburg to international fame as an artist was not a smooth transition.
He had to support himself and his family through menial jobs until his work became known. And then, when he had reached the stratospheric heights of the international art world, he contracted cancer.
When I met him last summer du Toit was immersed in an intense anti-cancer regimen directed by a clinic in Mexico. He was drinking carrot juice at regular intervals throughout the day and following a very strict diet and supplement plan.
His bout with cancer had brought him close to death’s door and he was even more than before making the utmost of each moment of life granted him.
PHOTO: Paul du Toit (right) in his studio with Mike Von Guilleaume.
At one moment in the studio Paul and Mike were talking about something and off to the side a few feet away Paul’s wife Lorette and I got into a separate conversation. In reference to an event that was going to involve Paul’s parents she said that Paul’s battle with cancer had been very hard on them.
That touched a nerve in me because I had had a similar experience as a parent. I told her that I knew how it felt to stand helpless as your child is stricken with a horrible disease and there is nothing you can do about it. It’s not part of what you envision your role as a parent to be.
It upsets what we think of as the natural flow from one generation to the next. You want to bargain with God and say, “Please take me instead. I have had my life. Don’t take my child.”
At that point both of us broke up and stumbled into a speechless moment of silence. Mike and Paul looked over, noticing that something had happened but not knowing what it was. The momentum of “normal life,” the daily routines we all maintain for refuge against the harsher realities of life had shattered and we all stood in a timeless moment of hyper awareness.
Then we recovered and moved on. But the moment left its mark.
I was not quite the same person as when I had walked in a little while before. The stress that Paul and Lorette were under had broken through the surface and we encountered one another on a more profound level of existence where one looks straight at the realities of life and death that we usually avoid thinking about.
It was not part of the itinerary, not part of the plan. I had not started that day seeking an experience that would shake me to my foundations. It was one of those things that just happen. For me it was one of those unforgettable, transformative moments that break through the conventional thinking that usually holds us in its sway. It was far more than I had bargained for.
And ironically, it was the moment I treasure more than all the others in that event-filled trip to South Africa.
Then this week I learned that Paul du Toit had succumbed to cancer finally on Jan. 9. It was a shock to learn of his death. Even though I knew of his struggle, it was next to impossible to conceive of him losing the battle. It was impossible for me to imagine the prodigious force of nature that I had encountered finally stilled.
There is really little more to say, nothing that can touch on the magnitude of his life and his passing. When I met him he shone with blinding brightness, and when I think back on it now I imagine a meteor that flashes at its brightest just before the light goes out.
But looking back at his life and work, it is evident that he always shone brightly. He was just one of those luminous beings that occasionally passes through the world.
I feel extremely fortunate to have gotten to meet him.
PHOTO: Paul with his wife Lorette.
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