Sculptor: Fritz Klueber
In the late 70’s my grandfather Fritz asked me to sit with him one afternoon as the sun was setting. I was 8 or 9 years old. We listened to Beethoven for about an hour. He said nothing and listened deeply with his eyes closed. I didn’t understand the music but I observed his immersion. He was very moved by the music. The lesson, was complete.
Music can touch the human soul
Fritz Klueber was hardcore in every sense of the word. He was a dedicated artist and devoted Catholic on a level that can only be described as extreme. Here’s a piece of his combining both of his faith’s into one..
Fritz had the incredible ability to paint portraits, sculpt busts, and make art out of things I’m still baffled by. The piece above is on tile! He had no social media following of course and made his art after work his entire life. Most of his craft was done for God and literally his church. At work he worked at Lincoln Center in NYC in charge of maintenance and restoration. He even made the New York Times in 1974 for his work on the Prometheus statue!
Fritz was my grandfather to me at that age. He let me beat him in chess to teach me how to play and build my confidence. He taught me how to figure out how far away a thunderstorm was by counting after a lightning flash. He would bring me inside from playing to pray with him. He had a list of people to pray for everyday, sometimes long. I brought him artwork of the solar system once while he was painting. He paused and took it seriously and said “Good.” (It was mad basic of course, better to keep me interested in it to develop).
His proudest moment in regards to me was taking me to church with him in the middle of the week during the day when the service was less attended. We sat near the front. I was still around 9 years old. During the service I said the prayers and call and response louder and stronger than anyone else. We were both surprised when the priest’s sermon was then about me:
“We must maintain the faith, we must remember what we believe in down to the core, for here we have a child with a conviction that surpasses our own!” (gesturing towards me)
Cancer came for Fritz as it does for so many. From his death bed I witnessed him get up to assist my grandmother who had severe Parkinson’s disease, I’ll never forget that. The day before he died he called me over and said “You’re the man of the house now.” There was not much I could do with that at 10 years old except hang my head and sob.
The priest I mentioned, Father Rooney, was a brother to Fritz. My final memory of him is witnessing him cry after delivering last rites to Fritz who transcended in 1980. I tried to commit to Catholicism and was confirmed at 13 taking on the name Peter, but without Fritz, I was unable to sustain the practice or belief system. My relationship with the spiritual side of life would in time take me on a very, very different path.
Fritz had imparted me with several gifts. Music touches the soul, and art is a devoted, even devout practice that can explore the deeper realities we live in. His two busts of Dr. Martin Luther King and Beethoven above really say it all for me. Miss you Grandpa.
After high school I studied art for 2 years, but then what Miles did to me with My Funny Valentine live could no longer be suppressed. I’m still haunted by the music which left me with no other path than to pursue music above all other things. I have struggled for 30 years, but the die was cast. Like Kamala is saying now, no going back. I have theorized that my late father, a bartender most of his adult life, is what pushed me over to jazz where you can engage the human experience on those more human levels. There’s a reason that when Ornette had me under his microscope he deduced that “I can see that you have a sexual relationship with your horn.”
The art inside of me lain dormant while jazz and then free jazz ruled my being..until Covid when the music stopped and my unemployment kicked in. My art saw an opportunity to come through, and since then it’s just been pouring. I’m about 80-90 paintings in now. I let them tell me who they are and when it’s time for them to exist. “Purple Sun” is coming through now. I’m not like Fritz, as my obsession is color. Many years of playing free jazz and improvisation have opened up my artistic vision considerably. I did receive some of his illustration DNA perhaps. Here is the work I believe in the most, and yes they are for sale, though I have been known to give paintings to my inner circle. (Like my music, I have not found it to be a sustainable form of income by any means).
Thoth, Hathor, and Jazz History re-imagined came to me right at the same time that I was then able to engage in higher levels of spiritual communication.
Kooka, this little guy lives in the Color World but his passion is cornet and violin. His hero is Ray Nance.
The four Space Hands is one of my most ambitious, risk taking pieces. It’s 4 paintings that combine into one.
Flow was a wild ride. Can you see the fish coming through on the left?
All of my work is at Matt Lavelle Art on the IG.
People are quick to say “I see you have checked out this artist, or that artist.” -Not true. The only artists I’ve checked out are Miles Davis, Tom Cabrera and of course Fritz. (Tom is without a doubt my favorite painter). I want to keep it that way. The reason is that in Jazz if you hear one solo you feel, the influence is instantaneous and permanent. Only in painting am I truly free, or am I if everyone has to be compared to someone else?
I’ve tried to combine my music, writing, and art and learned much by doing so. The biggest lesson was when I tried to assign color to pitch using the human chakras as my guide. In other words, middle C on the piano is red. I’m not the first to do this, but I did try to apply and use it, painting visual scores for musicians to play, as shown here up in Cambridge where I went even further and asked K.J. Holmes to add dance. This piece had spoken word portions as well.
The main takeaway for me is that you cannot assign color to pitch. Colors just don’t work that way. You can play a sound and then see a color (I have synesthesia), but in my experience the colors cannot be controlled. I’ll add to what Ornette told me about music and say that I have a sexual relationship with color. I feel the attraction or repulsion between them very strongly. When I play music with my eyes closed it’s often like Christmas lights popping off, and it’s all colors you don’t often see.
For this episode here on No Sound Left Behind, It’s no color left behind. I have a long list for my continued “eulogy” posts, but they can be spiritually exhausting in a way. I have to do it…for Jemeel Moondoc, Ramsey Ameen, Raphe Malik, Joe Rigby and beyond. Big appreciation for any and all reads.
Meanwhile, in order to survive it’s back to Instacart. I’ve been planning on writing about what it’s like to go full time with delivery aps for a long time. I’m planning to go there when it’s over. I’ve got plans for a blues album also. I’ve written three. Hospital Housekeeper blues, Delivery blues, and Flat Tire blues. Like Fritz, I serve all of my creative practice in the time that I do have, and I’m grateful for it.
Music, art, and writing cannot or will ever be stopped. Artists of the world, it’s up to us to somehow make the case that humanity still deserves to exist. That includes all creative acts by all humans. One of my favorite phrases, and one that could be applied to Fritz and his legacy is:
We make art out of everything
Peace and Big Love
ML