Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, July 29, 1993 TAG: 9307290364
SECTION: NEIGHBORS PAGE: S-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MELANIE S. HATTER STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Her pencil portraits give more detail than some photographs and speak volumes for her subjects.
There's no denying that Monica is a talented artist. In fact, Rep. Bob Goodlatte, R-Roanoke, chose one of her drawings to represent the 6th District in a national art exhibition that began June 2 at the Capitol in Washington, D.C.
But what's more intriguing about this Patrick Henry High School student is her own surprise that anyone would be interested in her work.
"I don't really think what I do is all that great," she says. "I'm just copying something from a picture.
"I've been doing it ever since I can remember. I do it when I get bored, and you know I do it a lot."
She says her mother, Rose Kamara, was probably an influence because she used to draw. Monica was in the seventh grade when she did her first commissioned piece, for her art teacher, Pam Feldman. It was a pencil drawing of Feldman's daughter, Lauren.
An extremely shy 17-year-old, it's clear Monica's voice comes through in her art. Only recently has she been able to summon a quiet "thank you" when complimented on her work, instead of looking like she wants to run and hide.
An exhibit of her work began June 4 at the Harrison Museum of African American Culture and continues through Monday. Walking through the gallery, Monica points out a colorful drawing, titled "Halloween," of two children in costume. "I think that's the best one," she says.
The girl in the drawing is a younger Lauren. Pam Feldman pushed Monica to do the piece in color, but Monica resisted. She says she feels more comfortable working in black and white.
Feldman "wanted her to do it so bad she bought the color pencils," says Monica's aunt, Denise Jones, who has accompanied her niece to the museum.
The exhibit opened the night of last month's storm, but more than two dozen people showed up, including some of Monica's classmates. Her current art teacher, Fletcher Nichols, presented her a bunch of slightly opened roses and said they represented how much she had bloomed in recent months, Denise Jones says.
"She accepted the flowers, cried and went back to her seat," Jones says. Nichols "showed her this is her way. Once she really took it seriously," there was no stopping her.
Monica, who lives with her mother and siblings in Northwest Roanoke, had a hard time taking anything seriously, especially school. She's a sophomore and says, "I kind of dropped out of school one year. . . . I had problems."
Denise Jones says her niece had some "demons" to fight.
Monica was in the Interdisciplinary Team, an in-house program at Patrick Henry for students having trouble with class work. Its goal was to boost their self-esteem by introducing them to volunteer projects. But that wasn't enough to keep Monica in school despite her getting good grades when she attended classes.
"Basically, I just didn't want to be there," she admits.
Nichols and Feldman "worked with her, but she didn't open up," Nichols says. At one point, she was out of school for almost two weeks, and Nichols feared she wouldn't come back. He and a student drove around the city looking for her and calling to ask people if they had seen her. They didn't find her that night, but she reappeared at school the next day.
Nichols sat her down one day, and they talked.
"Monica and me won't say what we said. . . . we were both crying," Nichols says, grinning at his student. "I had a teacher who went all the way for me, and I asked her if she'd do that for me. . . . We've seen an incredible change in her."
"I just wanted him to be proud of me. I think . . . I don't know . . .," Monica says, sitting on a soft chair in Nichols' den, rubbing her knees with her hands. "I didn't like to be around too many people. If I could sit and draw all day, I'd stay in school."
Her most powerful piece is "Yes, Wife," a pencil drawing of Nichols and his wife, Synethia. Nichols asked her to do it as a Christmas gift from him to his wife.
Denise Jones says Monica was going through a particularly tough time and poured her frustrations into the work.
She worked with it, off and on, for a month. When it was about to be framed, it was sitting in the art classroom at her high school and attracted an audience, Nichols says. People "oohed" and "aahed" at it. Monica, sitting nearby, cringed when Nichols pointed her out as the artist when someone asked who had done it, he says.
Art tends to be a "male thing," he says, and people were surprised to find that the creator of a powerful drawing was a timid, black teen-age girl.
It was that drawing Goodlatte chose to hang in the Capitol.
"That one just leaps out at you," Goodlatte says. "It just stood out to me as being realistic and lifelike." However, there was a limit on the size of art for the congressional entries, and "Yes, Wife" was too large. But it hung in the Capitol until Monica was able to do another drawing. She was the only student who had two pieces of her work hang there for a short period.
The replacement is a color drawing of Sterling Jenkins, who plays violin with the Roanoke Symphony Orchestra. It is one of 260 that will hang for a year in the corridor leading from the Cannon House Office Building to the Capitol. The walkway is open to the public, Goodlatte says.
"She showed me a photograph of [Jenkins], and you would think that the drawing was a blow-up of the photograph," he says. "The details are so incredible. . . . She's incredibly talented."
Monica has gotten used to the attention, but she still gives whispered responses to questions. And she still feels uncomfortable asking people to pay for her work.
"I've made more money than I ever expected to," she says. Her portraits run from $75 to $200, depending on size and style. Nichols is playing agent and adviser to the young artist and helped draft a contract for commissioning her work.
Art is perhaps Monica's saving grace and has turned her life in a new direction. She's unsure where her future lies in the art world, but Nichols is directing her toward college.
"I'm looking forward to going," she says.
by CNB