Earth's Scribe : Artist Harry Orlyk
by Ross Rice
Academic gigs weren’t forthcoming in the area at that time,
so Harry and Donna got work at the Albany Center Gallery, with Les
Urbach at the helm. Urbach was credited with spreading the concept
of publicly supported exhibition space, contributing greatly to the
increase of galleries in the Hudson Valley, and Harry credits him with
giving him the much-needed confidence to take his art to the next level
and immerse himself in his work without any self-doubt. Harry’s
side gig as a recreational art therapist was eliminated during the
Cuomo administration, so it was sink or swim time. Harry got one of
the best omens an artist can get: an old friend from Nebraska, Excelsior
College president C. Wayne Williams, who had also moved up to the area
and was familiar with Harry’s work said he’d like
to purchase a few paintings. About seven thousand dollars worth of
them, to be exact. Harry took this good omen as a sign that yes, he
could—and should—be an artist. All the way. He’s
never looked back.
______________________
On a drizzly February day, Harry greets me gregariously at his old
farmhouse on Blind Buck Road, leading me over the slippery ice to the
studio out back, which is toasty warm thanks to an old woodstove in
the middle. New paintings stand along the baseboards of the floor,
where a full palette sits next to a multi-color pile of used paint.
One wall has a selection of 15 paintings, all within the last month
or two, a group that has a cohesive sense of a proper exhibition. Harry
makes a reference to his time at the Ukrainian school, which like most
Eastern European churches had a wall of icons, “faces of
saints and sacred people. The metaphor is the same for me here: these
are my ‘faces of saints.’”
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