The Enduring Legacy of Kevin Kelley

   
    In life, Kevin Kelley made me smile.
    He’s gone now, the victim of liver cancer, but two months after his passing, I continue to smile when I recall the many conversations we had during our 26 years as colleagues or when I look at the sculpture he created and which he and his wife Gail have generously bequeathed to Collegiate.
   
    The artwork, which sits for the moment in the front hall of the Middle School building, appears to the untrained eye to be a pair of greenish leaves rising from a white base.
    Upon reflection, it’s much, much more.
    “It represents labor and effort,” said Pam Sutherland, his art department colleague.
    “It takes you beyond leaves, beyond nature, to other things such as living in the country, the woods. When I see two of anything, it’s a metaphor for any pair, Gail and Kevin, maybe, two inseparable things.”
    Long ago, I learned from Kevin that the artist creates but the viewer interprets.
    “There are certain artists who have a specific thing they’re trying to communicate…almost didactic,” Pam continued, “but most visual artists have an open-endedness or mystery they want to retain so they’re OK with the viewer’s interpretation.
    “They’re really intrigued by what viewers see. Usually, it’s different from what they intended. Kevin was totally into that.”
    My friend created his sculpture from marble.
    The leaves came from scraps he retrieved from the dumpster at H.E. Satterwhite, Inc., a company, located on South Lombardy Street in Richmond that specializes in stone work and repair.
    The base is Carrera marble, which he located while studying in Italy on a grant and had shipped to Richmond.
     “It was part of him,” said Melanie Gorsline, with whom he shared a classroom for 26 years.
     “He’d been there. He’d picked it out. He had a vision.”
     Though he would never admit it publicly, Kevin was quite proud of his workmanship that evolved over a spring and summer several years ago and sat in the Kelleys’ front yard before moving to Collegiate.
     “This was one of his sentimental pieces,” Gail Kelley explained. “He wanted you to use your imagination.
     “He never gave it a title because he felt like the viewer should have the freedom to interpret.”
     So who was Kevin Kelley?
     Was he an artist first, then a teacher, or vice versa?
     “Kevin found his true meaning in life in teaching,” Gail said.
     “Every one of the kids he taught are his history. He found that he could make his mark through his influence on his students.  He opened up a little cell in their brain that gave them an advantage. He could stimulate. No one felt self-conscious about what they did in his class.
     “Sculpture was his dream for the future, for retirement. His passion for teaching overran his dream. He never gave it up.”
     Pam Sutherland offered this perspective.
     “Kevin was a kid at heart,” she said. “He was incredibly interested in all things art. He was very clever and gifted with a lot of different materials.
     “He was an amazing teacher. His students’ work was always above grade level. Kevin was interested in process and getting kids down and dirty with materials, getting them to play, in a sense.
     “Ultimately, what a great art teacher does is enable kids to realize that art is less about talent and more about self-expression and getting them to understand that they can make a contribution regardless of their skills.”
     Melanie Gorsline collaborated with Kevin daily for many years.
     “Kevin was a kind, gentle, intelligent man,” she said. “He thought deeply.
     “He was passionate about so many things. He wasn’t one to follow the normal drumbeat. There was no right or wrong.  His class was fun. There was always excitement.
     “He’d open up the box and say, ‘Here’re some things. What can we make with them today?’”
                        -- Weldon Bradshaw
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