FingerSmearing With The Rolling Stones: An Explanation

SEPTEMBER 9, 2015






It’s not every day that one receives an email mentioning the Rolling Stones in conjunction with a trademarked enigma known as the FingerSmear™. Lambertville, Pennsylvania-based artist Kelly Sullivan — inventor of said smear-based practice, which she describes as a collaborative, guided method of making art in large groups — enlisted the Stones to co-create a painting back in 1994. It’s now been taken out of storage, and is available for $375,000, with profits going to the Mighty Fingers Facing Change charity. I got in touch with Sullivan to find out a bit more about this unique Stones-smeared portrait.

Could you explain the FingerSmear concept itself?
Most FingerSmears are commissioned pieces of art, so I design them based on the event: how much time we have, the number of guests, messaging. I sketch out the canvas and invite guests to participate by choosing a color. They stick their finger in the paint and I offer a bit of direction. Some people want step-by-step instructions; some know just where they want to go. FingerSmear canvases tend to have many layers. Some marks become obscured, adding texture or adjusting color. In the end, I pull the pieces together by filling in raw canvas and finessing the areas that need to become more ingrained into the piece. Everyone that participates also signs his or her name to the painting.

How did this particular painting come about, and how did you get the Stones involved?
I was supporting my career in the arts by tending bar at Miss Pearls Jam House in the Tenderloin district of San Francisco (famous for housing up and coming musicians in the attached Phoenix Hotel). When the hotel group landed the catering contract for the Rolling Stones’ Halloween Party they asked me if I wanted to work the bar. I said “No man, I want to paint, I want to paint!”

I arrived at the Warfield Theater the next day and sketched out the canvas. The Stones and their guests arrived at midnight. Everyone that worked the event was in costume: blood-stained shirts, whips, fire. (I was in my painting costume: a white shirt). There was no formal introduction to what I was doing. I had to track them down. The security had watched me set up and work all day so they were into the concept. They escorted me to Keith Richards’s table. I explained what I was doing and asked if he would come by at some point during the night. He enthusiastically jumped up and said “Sure, how about now, where we going?” I walked him over to the canvas and gave him the scoop. He dug three fingers into black paint and smacked spots along the spine of the snakes, and landed three big dots across Charlie Watt’s head, and one lone print on his own eyebrow. Then he smacked his hand into the left side of the canvas and signed “Love, Keith Richards.” I offered a bucket of water and a ragged towel to clean up with and he did not balk (now I offer wipes). He looked at me and laughed at the streak of paint across my face. He dipped my towel into the water and rubbed it across my cheek to clean me up. He kissed my face and off he went.

Tyrone Wood [son of Ronnie Wood] was the next of the “family” to come around. He was 11. “Wow, this is really cool,” he said. He stuck his fingers in paint and added marks all over the canvas. “I’m going to get my Dad!” And he did. He dragged back an entourage too large for me to name. Tyrone lead the way, followed by Ronnie. They all painted and signed, and took a slew of pictures in front of the painting. I remember Tyrone as a very cool kid, with a genuine appreciation for art, and the process. He was cool at 11. He probably still is.

Mick Jagger, though not much bigger than I was, was a bit more intimidating. I approached him early on as he entered the party and he replied, “Maybe later”. My fellow bartenders and I kept our eyes on him throughout the night. It looked like he was heading out and had to pass by me to make it to the door. I popped out in front of him like a bad dream: “Hey Mick, how about now?” He smirked and followed me to the canvas. I explained the process and he looked at me hesitantly and then stuck his fingers in red paint and ran the flames up along the side of his face. “He did it”, I thought to myself – “holy crap, he did it!” Then he stuck his finger back in the red paint — “holy crap, …. he liked it…he liked it!” – he pressed his finger into the canvas to create his own tongue. He smiled and walked away, leaving the building. My heart beat, and I thought my days of $3 burritos were over.

Have you seen any members of the band since the painting was completed? Are you surprised that the band is still around, and touring, over 20 years later?
I have not seen any of them in person since 1994, although Ronnie Wood and I were in a show together, along with the work of Gerry Garcia, John Entwhistle, and Tico Torres at Ambassador Galleries in Soho in 2000. They were all musicians that painted, and I was a painter that painted musicians. I was the only non-musician — and the only women in the show. Ronnie was not there, but I was happy to hang next to him. I admire that the Stones are all still kicking it after all of these years, and that they are still growing as artists. I think we will all live forever, until we don’t. Being an artist is not an easy road, even if you’re a superstar I suppose. I welcome any of them into my studio to muck around in paint anytime.

What’s your favorite Stones song?
Almost impossible to answer. Maybe “Wild Horses,” or “Fool To Cry.”

— Scott Indrisek (@indrisek)

(Photo: Keith Richards with Kelly Sullivan in 1994. Courtesy Sean Murphy)


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