NYU Black Renaissance Noire Volume 18 Issue 3 - Fall 2018 | Page 20

interview
Interview with Art Collector
Ronald Maurice Ollie
o
Frank Stewart,
The Bow, 1996
Black and white digital photography
By Mary Anne Rose
C H I LDHO OD FOU N DATIONS
AN D SAI NT LOU IS RO OTS
MA R How would you describe your
art collection?
RMO My art collection consists
primarily of abstract works by African
American artists born between 1900
and 1957. Sure, there are some pieces
in the collection that don’t fit that
description, but those are the exceptions.
Overall, some of the work is purely
abstract, even geometric, and some
fall into the category of figurative
abstraction.
I started purchasing my first artwork
in 1989 — at a rather slow rate in the
beginning, perhaps because at the time
I hadn’t yet committed to becoming a
collector. I do believe, though, that I
was preparing to become a more serious
collector for a long time; I just didn’t
consciously know it yet.
MAR Were you a collector as a child?
R MO I was! Baseball cards, marbles,
even pennies — I was always collecting
something. It gave me a kick to collect
stuff, and I’d always be thinking: “What
am I going to get next?” Books, too.
I started collecting books, paperbacks,
when I was very young. I had my own
little library as a child.
MAR Why do you think you became
such an avid collector?
R MO For me, collecting is about
having things that I love around me.
Just the thought, for instance, of
storing my art collection away from
home bothers me. I want the paintings
close to me, where I can see them —
where I live. The closets in my home
are big and deep, so I can pack
everything into them.
MAR Tell me how you were introduced
into the life of art and culture.
My mother and father would take me
to musicals in St. Louis. The Municipal
Opera — or The Muny, as it is called —
put on shows in Forest Park. You had
the option of paying or not, so we
always went for free. We’d take the bus,
but I was only six or seven years old,
really young, and I’d be kicking and
screaming the whole way.
We’d see all the musicals that came in
the summer — shows like The King
and I and The Music Man. We’d also
get the record albums to play at home.
And I just started to love musicals —
no more kicking and screaming.
They touched my soul. To this day I
love musical theater and the standards.
I used to sing them in college. We
had a “Nightclub Night” in college
where I would perform. That was my
introduction to culture. Then my
parents had me go to art school, for
which I had no talent at all.
school?
RMO It was held in mid-town
St. Louis in the summer — a two or
three-week-long program. I would
go and learn about the creative arts
in various forms. They even had
ceramics! And, again, I had zero talent,
but I did have an enormous appreciation
for it. My sister had all the artistic
talent. She was really good! But drawing
intimidated me. I have other gifts,
but drawing is not one of them.
In sixth grade we had art class, and
I hated it. I remember this vividly,
because I see it as a defining moment
for me as a collector. I was totally
intimidated. I said, “Oh boy, I have
to draw that chair, that couch,”
whatever, and I just couldn’t do it.
I would try, but it was ridiculous.
Even I had to laugh.
Then one day my classmate, William
Birch, began doing free abstractions
in color, and I said, “what are you
doing there?” “Man,” he replied, “you
ought to try this, it feels great,” And
I said, “Boy, I like the way it looks,”
and I started doing it.
I guess, for lack of a better term, we
were free-forming — playing with
colors and various gestures. I loved it.
Right, I loved it, I felt free! And from
that moment on, two things: Number
one, I was no longer intimidated when
art class came around, and, number
two, I embraced abstract art. I must
have been about 12 or 13 at the time.
And that’s when I became a lover of
abstract art. The good thing about this
was that my teacher, Mr. Arthur Sharp,
encouraged it. He must have thought:
“He can’t do the figurative stuff, so this
is something he can do.”
MA R He probably saw how happy
you were.
RMO Maybe that was it! I had
become a different person. Now, when
we had art class, I would just beam.
And I didn’t even make that connection
until about five years ago. I was thinking
about abstract art, and it hit me, that
moment in the sixth grade.
MA R When did you first go to a
museum?
RMO I went early on, I’d say I was
about nine or 10. I went to the
St. Louis Art Museum in Forest Park.
I used to love going there, and I’d
get this feeling every time I went —
a kind of joyous anticipation.
My mother exposed me to the art
world at a very early age, and we would
go to museums as a family. I remember
the first time I saw a Rodin piece.
I’ve always particularly loved sculpture
because it’s 3-dimensional: you can
walk around a sculpture, see it from
various angles, and it’s as if you’re seeing
entirely different pieces. Rodin was a
stand-out. I loved his work. As I got
older, I would even take women I was
dating to the museum. I thought it
was rather sexy, but my friends would
tease me about it. So I kept it secret —
the fact that a lot of women really liked
going to the museum.
I grew up in St. Louis, Missouri, and
both of my parents had migrated from
the South. My mother came from
Mississippi — Greenville — which is
in the Delta, and my father from
Arkansas. They met at church when
they were in their 20’s and got married.
MAR Art school? What kind of art
RMO It started out with music.
My parents and my older siblings
always told me that I could sing before
I could talk. This was a hard thing
for me to comprehend, but as I get
older I can see that it’s entirely possible.
I’ve spoken to other singers who say
the same thing — who found their
voice in music before they learned to
talk. According to my parents, I would
hum “How much is that doggie in
the window?”— not a very auspicious
beginning, but you have to start
somewhere. Both my mother and father
always encouraged me to sing, and
so it went from there.