12-09-2005, 08:04 AM
Portraits of a silent artist give insight into autism
by JOSEPH HALL
Toronto Star
Dec. 9, 2005.
There's a melancholy in this nameless face, an undeniable sadness cast in the quick charcoal strokes of the artist's busy hand.
But is this "blue-eyed" girl's portrait a note passed out from an autistic prison — a message in a bottle from Jonathan Lerman's castaway mind?
Estée Klar-Wolfond certainly thinks so.
"These pictures show what's going on inside his head," says Klar-Wolfond, who's organized the first major Toronto exhibition of Lerman's undeniably emotional works. The 18-year-old took the art world by storm three years ago when a glowing review in The New York Times touched off a flurry of international media attention.
Lerman has a severe form of autism, a developmental disability resulting from a neurological disorder that affects brain functions. Most communication with the outside world is impossible for the New York teen. But in his charcoal portraits, many of which are on display at the Lonsdale Gallery on Spadina Rd., Lerman has found a crack in the walls of his isolation, his many supporters say.
Klar-Wolfond, whose 3-year-old son has been diagnosed with the condition, says many experts believe that autistic savants like Lerman are exhibiting inert talents, that their music or math skills are simply weird accidents of neurological wiring, bereft of reason or insights into their surroundings.
"Some people see this as a quirk of biology" she says, scanning Lerman's soulful artwork.
"They believe that people with autism lack a `theory of mind,' which means they have a very limited capacity to understand human emotions, they have no capacity to understand thoughts outside their own, can't read body language and are incapable of symbolic thought."
Lerman's work — with its intensely emotive faces — belies this belief, Klar-Wolfond says.
"It shows that there's a lot going on, and that we have to rethink the way we interact with people with autism."
Lerman first showed signs of autism at 2 and began slipping away from his parents in rapid and heartbreaking fashion, his mother Caren says.
Then, at age 10, "it just came out of left field," says his mother, who recalls that the "beautiful doodles" he'd been toying at with pens and crayons became fully-fledged portraits the moment he was given charcoal.
"The first charcoals he did were astonishing," she says. "I immediately said, `Oh my God, he's gifted.'"
Lerman has some verbal and reading skills, but is unable to engage in conversations. He could not be interviewed for this story.
Caren Lerman says at the death of his grandfather, which her son did not note outwardly, Lerman drew a crying boy with a large bruise on his face.
"And right now he's suffering from aggressive episodes with some psychosis ... and at one point he drew a head with three people inside it talking to each other," she says. "One (of the people) was crying and he drew a capsule around it with `mom and dad' coming out of the mouth. I took it that was him saying `Mom and dad help me.'"
Caren Lerman says his art has not only given her son a unique gateway to the outside world, but offers proof he's taking in his surroundings despite his passive appearance.
"Because autism impacts the ability to communicate verbally, you can't get what's in there unless they have the ability to show it to you in another form," she says.
"It's interesting to look into any artist's mind directly through his medium," says New York gallery owner Kerry Schuss, who has represented Lerman since his artistic breakout eight years ago. Lerman's work sells for $2,000 (Canadian) a piece.
"What's doubly interesting is this is a person who can't really express it in words," Schuss said.
Schuss says Lerman, whose I.Q. has been tested in the high 50s, uses his charcoal pencils in a stream of consciousness fashion and has the technical capacity to create, in minutes, whatever images come into his mind.
And unlike many autistic artists, who tend to use straight lines and hard angles, Lerman has an uncanny ability to draw expressive faces, he says.
"They show very distinct personalities, ages, old people, young people, middle aged people, punk rockers, housewives, all walks of life," he says.
"From age 10, he knew how to shade and light a face with charcoal ... and he's been getting better ever since."
Source: The Toronto Star
http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/Content...9483202845
by JOSEPH HALL
Toronto Star
Dec. 9, 2005.
There's a melancholy in this nameless face, an undeniable sadness cast in the quick charcoal strokes of the artist's busy hand.
But is this "blue-eyed" girl's portrait a note passed out from an autistic prison — a message in a bottle from Jonathan Lerman's castaway mind?
Estée Klar-Wolfond certainly thinks so.
"These pictures show what's going on inside his head," says Klar-Wolfond, who's organized the first major Toronto exhibition of Lerman's undeniably emotional works. The 18-year-old took the art world by storm three years ago when a glowing review in The New York Times touched off a flurry of international media attention.
Lerman has a severe form of autism, a developmental disability resulting from a neurological disorder that affects brain functions. Most communication with the outside world is impossible for the New York teen. But in his charcoal portraits, many of which are on display at the Lonsdale Gallery on Spadina Rd., Lerman has found a crack in the walls of his isolation, his many supporters say.
Klar-Wolfond, whose 3-year-old son has been diagnosed with the condition, says many experts believe that autistic savants like Lerman are exhibiting inert talents, that their music or math skills are simply weird accidents of neurological wiring, bereft of reason or insights into their surroundings.
"Some people see this as a quirk of biology" she says, scanning Lerman's soulful artwork.
"They believe that people with autism lack a `theory of mind,' which means they have a very limited capacity to understand human emotions, they have no capacity to understand thoughts outside their own, can't read body language and are incapable of symbolic thought."
Lerman's work — with its intensely emotive faces — belies this belief, Klar-Wolfond says.
"It shows that there's a lot going on, and that we have to rethink the way we interact with people with autism."
Lerman first showed signs of autism at 2 and began slipping away from his parents in rapid and heartbreaking fashion, his mother Caren says.
Then, at age 10, "it just came out of left field," says his mother, who recalls that the "beautiful doodles" he'd been toying at with pens and crayons became fully-fledged portraits the moment he was given charcoal.
"The first charcoals he did were astonishing," she says. "I immediately said, `Oh my God, he's gifted.'"
Lerman has some verbal and reading skills, but is unable to engage in conversations. He could not be interviewed for this story.
Caren Lerman says at the death of his grandfather, which her son did not note outwardly, Lerman drew a crying boy with a large bruise on his face.
"And right now he's suffering from aggressive episodes with some psychosis ... and at one point he drew a head with three people inside it talking to each other," she says. "One (of the people) was crying and he drew a capsule around it with `mom and dad' coming out of the mouth. I took it that was him saying `Mom and dad help me.'"
Caren Lerman says his art has not only given her son a unique gateway to the outside world, but offers proof he's taking in his surroundings despite his passive appearance.
"Because autism impacts the ability to communicate verbally, you can't get what's in there unless they have the ability to show it to you in another form," she says.
"It's interesting to look into any artist's mind directly through his medium," says New York gallery owner Kerry Schuss, who has represented Lerman since his artistic breakout eight years ago. Lerman's work sells for $2,000 (Canadian) a piece.
"What's doubly interesting is this is a person who can't really express it in words," Schuss said.
Schuss says Lerman, whose I.Q. has been tested in the high 50s, uses his charcoal pencils in a stream of consciousness fashion and has the technical capacity to create, in minutes, whatever images come into his mind.
And unlike many autistic artists, who tend to use straight lines and hard angles, Lerman has an uncanny ability to draw expressive faces, he says.
"They show very distinct personalities, ages, old people, young people, middle aged people, punk rockers, housewives, all walks of life," he says.
"From age 10, he knew how to shade and light a face with charcoal ... and he's been getting better ever since."
Source: The Toronto Star
http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/Content...9483202845