StuArt Chapman didn’t intend to have exactly 420 neckties in his newest exhibition at the Bolinas Museum. Rather, he said, “It’s cosmic synchronicity.” His show, “StuArt Chapman: Freebox Neckties,” opened late last month in the Coastal Marin Artists Gallery, consisting of 420 neckties draped over coat hangers, some inscribed with phrases, expressions or symbols and some with drawings. The exhibition explores the interplay between collection and artistic practice and provides social commentary on historical and contemporary uses of neckties.
“I still feel like I’m in art school, sort of stumbling from one thing to another,” he said. “I always thought life is about collecting good stories. Not so much about living the straight life.”
StuArt has been a stalwart creator in Bolinas for almost half a century. His devotion to art is evident in the sketchbook in which he constantly records the people and scenes around him, and in the pages of the Bolinas Hearsay News, where his drawings, comics and writings feature large. In a previous exhibit at the museum in 1995, he displayed a series of T-shirts he famously made for local organizations and events. His calligraphy decorates signs around town and he shares his musical talents with his folk band, the Psychedelic Seniors.
“There are some people that refer to him as the mayor, and one person calls him ‘El Presidente!’” said Kathleen O’Neill, StuArt’s partner since 1994. “To me, he’s the most creative person I’ve ever met. When I say really hard working, it’s like you wouldn’t believe. When he’s not doing music and art, he’s writing for the Hearsay or on his own, then he’ll write some songs and then some articles.”
At 75 years old, StuArt is a jovial man whose appreciation for the little things fuels his many projects. His clothing is adorned with psychedelic memorabilia, recognizing the substances that have played a large role in his spiritual, emotional and artistic life. Among the 420 ties in his current exhibition, some are stenciled with mushrooms, poppies or marijuana leaves. He’s come a long way from his beginnings in Hampton, Va., the oldest continuous English-speaking settlement in the nation.
His parents were both classical musicians and encouraged him and his two sisters to draw, paint and play music. His talents won him a scholarship, paid for by a wealthy godmother who arranged for him to attend Woodstock Country School, a progressive boarding school in Vermont where he learned about art and protest alongside Pete Seeger’s children. From there, he attended the Cooper Union School of Art in the East Village. He dropped out after two years. “Psychedelics, man,” he said, throwing up his hands.
In 1969, StuArt was drafted into the army and spent two years on active duty. During an orientation, he left his seat for a bathroom break, and when he returned, another private was in his spot. “You took my seat,” he told him. “Get lost,” the private chirped back. StuArt claimed that the private was subsequently selected to be sent to Vietnam.
StuArt spent his army years working as a military policeman on a base near his hometown. “A cop is the last thing I consider myself to be,” he said. A few months into his position, he abandoned his post and had a bad trip on L.S.D. He recalled sitting on the ground with handcuffs on his hands and ankles, feigning a whimper to the town police in hopes of some pity.
“What can I get you, son?” a policeman asked him.
“My guitar,” StuArt cried.
“There are no guitars where you’re going, son,” the cop replied.
Later that night in his jail cell, StuArt had a profound religious experience that brought him face to face with life’s mysteries. It jumpstarted his interest in Eastern philosophy and religion, and he spent the remainder of his military career picking up golf balls from the base’s back nine while reading the Bhagavad Gita.
After the army, he returned to Cooper Union for a year, then spent his final year of college studying art at the California Institute of the Arts as a part of an exchange program. Afterwards, he moved to Mexico to study silkscreen printing at Instituto Allende north of Mexico City. There he met Amy Urdang, who brought him to Bolinas in 1976.
While living on the Big Mesa, StuArt spent several years commuting to San Francisco for a job as a set designer for KQED TV. His work for the news station won him an Emmy for Outstanding Set Design in 1985 for his work on the comedy show “Ask Dr. Science.” He described this period as rigorous and intense, and his health suffered.
Burned out, he left KQED and began designing and building large-scale art for traveling carnivals. Ms. O’Neill was painting a carousel for the same operation when they first struck up a conversation. The two remained friends for several years, and shadowed each other in other jobs. In the mid-90s, Ms. O’Neill was working as a graphic designer for the Whole Earth Catalog, while StuArt wrote short articles on music for the catalogue’s quarterly Whole Earth Review. After the two started going steady, Ms. O’Neill moved from Point Richmond to Bolinas. They both started working at the Point Reyes Light in 1998, she as a graphic designer and he selling advertising. StuArt was reluctant to “work for the Man,” as he put it, but he soon came to appreciate the small business and the power of community economics.
“It was actually the best move I ever made,” StuArt said. “I got really into learning local economies and how they worked, and I got to travel all over the place.”
StuArt has been an editor of the Hearsay since 1988. He spends three hours on Wednesdays laying out content with glue sticks. The work keeps his fingers on the pulse of the town. Recently, he was involved in a minor controversy over a letter written under a moniker that harshly criticized the Bolinas Film Festival. StuArt said he thought the letter was a satire promoting the festival, failing to recognize how mean-spirited it was. “Sometimes you stick your head up, and you get whacked,” he said.
In the early 2000s, StuArt managed the Bolinas Free Box, a community closet where residents can retire their old clothes. He and a team of volunteers would dispose of any garbage and clothes that were heavily torn, stained or otherwise unwearable. One day, he found a pile of neckties. Staring at the bundle of corporate relics, he considered their obsolescence and association with patriarchy. He set to chuck the ties into the garbage, when he hesitated.
“I thought, ‘Wait a minute. At one time, these were important corporate talismans,’” he said. “Neckties are kind of ugly. They’re not really fashion statements, they’re more insignias. I thought, ‘I’m going to make art!’”
Over the next two decades, StuArt’s collection grew. Last year, the museum commissioned a sandwich-board sign from him. His payment was a small sum of money and an exhibit of his own. When asked what he wanted to show, the answer was clear. “Neckties, man! I got hundreds of neckties!”
Business suits and ties are emblematic of the corporate lifestyle, he said. “It’s the one place where the corporate individual is allowed to express some individuality. It’s also a phallic symbol, and a noose. With 420 ties gathered together in that small room, it leaves me wondering what kind of juju is that gonna bring up, man? I’m definitely going to do some rituals there. Probably about disavowing the patriarchy, because I love that.”
The ties are for sale for $50 each, with all proceeds going to the museum. The concept of purchasing art is particularly exciting for the gallery, said executive director Louise Gloger.
“The exhibition kind of changes based on who was here last, so it’s going to be a constantly evolving exhibition where people can walk away with a piece of artwork,” she said. “I hope people feel empowered to look through [the ties.] It’s got an analog, interactive quality with all its layers.”
StuArt’s work has been shown at farm stands, shrines and D.I.Y. galleries across Bolinas. It’s not a lucrative business, he said, but his career has helped enshrine a style that is essential to the character of Bolinas.
“The joy is in the process,” he said. “My stuff never sells. It’s okay, I’m too advanced. I’m going to have to wait until after I’m dead.”
The Bolinas Museum is open on p.m. on Fridays from 1 to 5 and on Saturdays and Sundays from 12 to 5 p.m. “StuArt Chapman: Freebox Neckties” is up through Nov. 12.