Artist Nathaniel Mary Quinn, admired by the Rolling Stones, returns to Chicago

Nathaniel Mary Quinn describes memories of his late mother in snapshots.

Her hand over his head as she prayed for him every morning.

Her fingers wrapped around the steel, argyle-patterned fence as she waited for him to come home from school.

The sunlight beaming on her face as he peered up at her, asking if he could become an artist one day.

“She said, ‘Baby, you can be the best artist you can possibly be,’” recalled Quinn, who has since adopted his mother’s name, Mary, as his middle name. “That made my day. That was all I needed to hear. I am now 49 years old, and I still proceed with that same mantra, because my mother said I can do it.”

The Chicago native will honor her with “A Love Letter to My Mother,” his first solo exhibition in the city. Opening Thursday at the National Public Housing Museum, the show will feature his unique, collage-like, composite portraits and a replica of his family’s living room in their apartment, circa 1984, in the Robert Taylor Homes project.

The exhibition expresses the complexities of living in public housing, where Quinn experienced poverty and abandonment, but also found love and inspiration. It comes at a time of growing visibility in the international art world for the Brooklyn-based artist, who is represented by one of contemporary art’s most notable galleries, Gagosian. His work, which has been presented at solo exhibitions throughout the U.S. and Europe, has been acquired by such prestigious institutions as the Whitney Museum of American Art, San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and the Art Institute of Chicago.

Last year, a solo show in New York marked an evolution in his art, which has established him as one of today’s “most distinctive figurative painters,” according to Gagosian director Aaron Baldinger. And one of his designs will soon grace the cover of the Rolling Stones’ forthcoming album “Foreign Tongues.”

But showing at an institution such as the National Public Housing Museum allows his creations to be understood within the framework of contemporary art and his lived experience.

Quinn said the pain of his past has not only motivated him to work hard, but want to return home to give back. That’s why the opening of the exhibition will also include a free community picnic to honor his mother’s tradition of cooking Thanksgiving meals for the neighborhood.

“It is, indeed, a love letter to my mom, and part of that love letter is the exercise of love,” he said.

Using art as protection in public housing

Quinn said it’s hard to escape his memories of Bronzeville’s now-demolished Robert Taylor Homes, which the commissioner of Chicago’s Department of Housing called “a symbol of disinvestment, redlining and policy failures.” Quinn recalls tall, concrete buildings, dirt grounds and skies that always seemed overcast. He said he was surrounded by gang violence, drug addiction and mental illness, but the residents had no access to resources to help.

He was aware that his family had very little; his father did his best with odd jobs, and his mother lost use of her left arm and leg after suffering two strokes. But she never complained as she did household chores, and that inspired him.

“I always remind myself, if my mother was able to mount a curtain with one arm, I have no excuse,” he said.

At the same time, Quinn described the family’s apartment as his first studio. Growing up, he sketched in the margins of coloring books and on the walls, which his mother patiently wiped clean whenever he needed a fresh canvas. But gang leaders also recognized his talent and requested he draw cartoon portraits of them.

“I was not in a position to say no,” Quinn said. “I was like the peasant working in the court of the aristocrats,” he said.

The task also provided him with protection until he was able to attend Culver Academies boarding school in Indiana for ninth grade. But tragedy struck that first year when his mother died suddenly, and his father and brother abandoned the apartment. Quinn returned home for Thanksgiving to just a few articles of clothing, a loaf of bread and a bottle of RC Cola in the refrigerator.

“I had nowhere to go, and I just had to make my way in life,” he said.

In the decades since, his brother only reached out once after hearing him on a podcast. But he never heard from his father again.

Quinn went on to finish high school, study art and psychology at Wabash College in Indiana, and obtain an MFA from New York University. From there, he moved to Brooklyn and taught at-risk youth while continuing to grow as a painter.

His career took off in 2013, when he developed his “paint-drawing” technique, collaging fragments of images to form faces and figures. He works with materials such as black charcoal, oil paint, paint stick, oil pastel and gouache, which is opaque paint. Many of his works feature people from his life, including his brother, who is depicted in “Charles: Re-visited.” He also has rendered pop culture figures and subjects of 17th-century portraiture, and drawn from influences such as Francis Bacon and Romare Bearden.

“What you’re trying to do is strike balance in a work of art,” Quinn said. “You’re trying to ensure that the composition is right. It’s like a jazz band that has perfect harmony, or a well-lit Christmas tree.”

Art that grapples with beauty and violence

Quinn’s show with the city’s new National Public Housing Museum has been in the works for several years, said Lisa Yun Lee, the museum’s director, who first saw his art at Chicago’s Rhona Hoffman Gallery.

“His work is so known amongst art collectors and people who are really excited about the future of portraiture and figuration,” Lee said. “This is a way of sharing his work with the tens of thousands of people who come through the museum who might not be art collectors, but who really deserve to see this work and grapple with all of the beauty and violence and memory in it.”

Quinn’s pieces also stand out because of their subjects, Lee said.

“In art history, oftentimes portraiture and figuration is reserved for people of a moneyed class, and it’s always existed as a form of representation for power and privilege,” she said. “The fact that he is doing portraiture and figuration for African American people, everyday people and people who have traditionally been marginalized is really important.”

Quinn’s style has earned him famous fans, including Mick Jagger, who visited his solo exhibition twice at Gagosian’s New York event last year. Later, famed music executive Jimmy Iovine sent a text to Quinn’s wife and studio manager, Donna Augustin-Quinn, requesting that the artist illustrate the Rolling Stones’ album cover.

Before long, Quinn was calling and texting Jagger, and the two had lunch at the Baccarat Hotel in New York.

“He’s telling me about his children and his family and his travels,” Quinn said. 

“I went to the music studio with Keith Richards one night. He was jamming, playing his guitar, and at each break, he sits down and talks to me. He’s telling me all of his stories. He’s super cool.”

Quinn’s work, which blends the faces of Jagger, Richards and Ronnie Wood, was enthusiastically received by fans and even some celebrities, whom Quinn met at an album release event in Brooklyn. At one point during the night, he felt a tap on the shoulder.

“I turn around and it’s Leonardo DiCaprio,” Quinn said. “Leo is also a collector of my work. And the first thing he says is, ‘Hey, man, I just want you to know it was my idea for you to do the Rolling Stones album cover. I don’t care what anyone says. It was me. I told Mick about your work.’”

Even after the accolades and decades of hard work, Quinn seems more focused than ever.

“I am bent on trying to make the best works that I can possibly make, every single time,” he said. “There is no such thing as mediocrity or resting on your laurels.”

And though he is famous around the globe, he said he is still excited to come home to Chicago.

“The prodigal son returns, as they say.”