By ROBERT L. KURTZ

By ROBERT L. KURTZ
VINDICATOR CORRESPONDENT
YOUNGSTOWN -- If you ask artists why they paint a particular image, they often answer that they paint what they understand, what they see, feel and know. Artist Alan Bean has them beat by a mile.
Actually, he has them beat by 238,857 miles.
The Butler Institute of American Art is presenting an exhibition of 23 Alan Bean paintings, "Alan Bean: An Artist on the Moon," from Oct. 15 through Dec. 31 at the museum's main Wick Avenue facility.
Bean made his first great impression on the soft loam of the American consciousness on Nov. 19, 1969, the day when he, as lunar module pilot of Apollo XII, first walked on the surface of the moon.
In Bean's second career, as a visual artist of stunning clarity of vision and imagery, he built upon his amazing and singularly American life's story -- being one of only 12 individuals to roam the lunar surface, and the only artist to accomplish this.
"When I left the space program in June of 1981, I did so with the idea that I would create paintings that depict one of the great adventures of humankind as only an insider sees it," Bean said. "I am fortunate enough to have seen sights no other artist ever has, and I hope to communicate these experiences through art."
The artist's technique
Bean's method of painting is as unique as his perspective. "One of the things I want most to achieve with my paintings," the artist said, "is to give people a connection with the other-worldly feelings that I and my fellow astronauts had on the moon."
His painting surface thus becomes -- before any pigment is applied -- a likening of the lunar surface itself. The thickly built-up texture begins with a heavy application of an acrylic modeling paste on lightweight aircraft plywood.
As it dries, Bean sets to work molding the surface. Using the very geology hammer he employed to historic effect on the moon, he chips and scrapes the painting surface. He then uses a round bit to mimic the soil sample holes he drilled on the moon's surface.
Additionally, with a model of the soles of his astronaut's footwear, he creates impressions of his lunar tramping. "Together, with the marks I've made with tools, the footprints create a texture that is, like the moon, rough and unpolished," Bean said. "Each painting has its own unique set of imprints."
To complete the preparation, Bean infuses artifacts from his moon journey into the painting surface, including small sections of moon dust-encrusted patches and flags from his Apollo XII spacesuit -- keepsakes given him by NASA.
"I like texture," Bean said. "Painting is a tremendously difficult skill. It is much easier to fly a jet than produce a good painting."
There are then two distinct yet kindred realities inhabiting the picture plane of a Bean painting -- the moon dust-strewn and tooled surface, and the lunar image itself.
Exhibition highlights
One of the most vibrant -- and patriotic -- works in the exhibition is "America's Team -- Just the Beginning," which depicts Apollo XI astronaut Neil Armstrong on the moon, standing jubilantly before the planted American flag, arms aloft in celebration and reflected in his visor. "Neil's first step was a wonderful moment in history," Bean said, "an impossible dream that Americans made into reality."
"Conrad, Gordon, and Bean: the Fantasy" is a tribute to the teamwork and camaraderie of the Apollo XII crew. It is also a product of Bean's well-honed and thriving imagination, as Dick Gordon was flying the command module -- 60 miles above the lunar surface -- while Bean and Conrad were busily engaged harvesting core samples. That is Bean on the right, adding the rabbit ears to Gordon's helmet. The consummate professional, Gordon never begrudged his two teammates the opportunity to walk on the moon. "At last our best friend has come the last 60 miles," said Bean.
"The Greatest Astronaut (or Pete Clicks His Heels)" is a portrait of Bean's Apollo XII teammate and friend, the late Pete Conrad. "He was a happy human being and that is why I painted him jumping up off the moon and clicking his heels together," Bean said. "He would perform this felicitous maneuver from time to time as we headed for a particularly difficult or demanding simulation or test." The reds, whites and blues of the work -- alien to the drab grayness of the lunar surface -- are symbols of Conrad's many strengths and qualities, which are also attributes Bean considers essential to the American character.
The exhibition was attracting admirers even during its installation.
Retired Boardman art teacher Jean DiThomas was particularly attracted to Bean's work. "The artist apparently textured the background first," DiThomas said. "It brings the paintings together in an easy way."
Her friend and fellow art instructor Bob Jaillet was impressed with Bean's exacting painting style. "Some of his works approach photorealism," Jaillet added.
Butler Director Louis A. Zona summed up Bean's extraordinary abilities succinctly, stating, "The art of Alan Bean, I believe, will have a staying power by virtue of the skillful application of paint, outstanding composition and overall artistry."
Alan Bean's book, "Apollo: an Eyewitness Account," and a commemorative poster produced by Greenwich Workshop are available in the Butler museum gift shop.