Remembering RM Vaughan

I'm an old friend of Richard's. I know he had many! Richard was a pillar of my life. One of my dearest and closest friends, and it is with deep sadness I submit this drawing.

Richard also relentlessly championed me – pushed me and encouraged me to believe in my work. (Like he did for so many others.) After much grappling with what to send for this memorial, I decided I should draw a portrait. I hope it does not seem too lighthearted or childish – I'm a comic artist. I know it's not showing his biting wit or prolific career. I wanted to show that St. Francis side of him, that Richard you spent hours talking to and playing with.

A few years back Richard commented on my Soundcloud, “please play this at my funeral” in response to one of our songs. There’s a beautiful irony in that the song is about the pain for those left behind and in many ways, it speaks to his acute sense of emotional connection.

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Richard's Art.

Sky and Richard

Richard was a brilliant writer but no dab hand at technology. During our final Zoom conversation in late September, Richard wanted to use the exotic jungle background feature on Zoom that was supposed to look like he was in a tropical forest. But somehow he screwed it up. The background was his Fredericton basement flat and the jungle was all over his face.

I showed him the effect and said it could feature in a new art video collaboration. He sent me an appropriate poem he would read but we didn't schedule a video shoot over Zoom. Then he died.

I'm sort of haunted by Richard's last post on Facebook. It doesn't say much, but some of the other elements about his FB page sure does, especially his self-description (accurately) as "writer" and the number of friends he had, as indicated by his FB friend count.

It's so strange to me to have a seemingly random post be the last words Richard would ever share with me and the rest of his virtual friends. Although we weren't close, I carry a little bit of Richard with me.

XO,
Dave Stewart (D.A. Stewart on FB!)

Richard will forever be in my heart . We were close friends since the late 90s and he always championed my work and I his friendship. A little gin cocktail to the man.

Rxx

RMV blonde summer 2020

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Uncle Richard

Richard moved away from Saint John shortly after we were married. We would only see him once or twice a year and have calls on special occasions such as birthdays and Christmas. He was always busy. Many calls were scheduled around a party that he was off to or, depending on time zone, returning from.

With a distant relative you can't help but wonder what kind of relationship they will have with your kids. They don't see them often enough to know them or remember them from one visit to the next. Will they hide behind your leg when he comes home for his next visit? Will they want to talk to him when he calls at Christmas?

Fortunately for them, Richard was not your typical uncle.

I remember this particular visit when our daughter was very young. Richard invited her to spend the afternoon with him. At the end of their visit, she came home and couldn't wait to show us her art. As much as we love the usual stick man drawings you get at that age, this wasn't that. They first made homemade paper. Then they took that paper and cut out shapes to make a beautiful piece of art!

While the kids were young, Richard's visits always included spending an afternoon together. They would play a game or make a craft and talk. Richard always came home with fun and unusual gifts and a plan to spend time with the kids. It was their time. As they grew up, the crafting went away but he was always there to spend time and talk. And they were always excited for his visit or phone call. He was more than an uncle. He was their friend and mentor.

In recent years, Richard started the tradition with the next generation of Vaughan Crafters; our grandchildren. They also loved his visits. Last year, we were all together for a bon-fire. Richard had an idea to create a burning man and sacrifice it to ward off ghosts and evil spirits. He and the boys created a fantastic burning man out of twigs and pizza boxes. The boys were absolutely thrilled to offer up their sacrifice.

Richard, I am so grateful and thankful for the love you showed and for the relationship you gave to our children. It ended way too soon but their lives are better for knowing you and having that time with you.

Every child deserves an Uncle Richard.

Glenn Hall, 1990

This digital collage is something I made during the days following the discovery of Richard’s body in the company of the mighty Saint John River. It was inspired by this CBC piece on Richard’s Cut, Paste, Resist show at UNB in February, 2020. The piece (and, in particular, the included video interview with Richard) was something I turned to for comfort again and again in the days he was missing. In the video, Richard speaks about how the idea of the project arose from a desire to reach out to his students, to ease their suffering, to connect with them and, in turn, to connect them with the greater world through the use of art. Richard chose collage as the medium because of its universal accessibility and ease of use. One of my favourite quotes from the video is, “.. creativity isn’t something for special people and it isn’t something for people with degrees. Creativity is for everybody.”.

Art isn’t something I make. I don’t think of myself as an artist. I had never made something like this before. Yet, after watching Richard speak about this project, I felt my heart mind change. I sat down in front of my computer with the intention to just make some art for myself. For my broken heart. Because Richard said so. What arose in that space turned out to be a tribute to Richard. It’s inspired by my favourite photo of him (and undoubtedly one of everyone else’s favourites too!) and by his love of cute animals (which somehow seems simultaneously out of character yet right on brand!). I hope it captures a slice of the adamantine delightfulness that was Richard Vaughan. And I hope he would like it.

Thank you Richard, for gifting us this nugget of your wallopingly simple, yet exceedingly profound, wisdom: We are human = We are artists = We will make art = We will build connections between people.

Cut Paste Resist can be seen on Instagram @cut_paste_resist

(P.S. If you haven’t already watched the video clip, I lovingly suggest taking the time to do so… if only for his magnificent description of the purple glue stick!)

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For RMV Celebration Of Life

I knew Richard through his creation and editing of the book "Cheez 100", a collection of my comics from Exclaim Magazine, published by Pedlar Press in 2001. I created the cover drawing for his book "Bright Eyed" published by Coach House Press in 2015. RM wrote the introduction to my comics collection "Somnambulance" published by Koyama Press in 2018. I'm indebted to him for his support of my work these many years and grateful to have known him well before these publications.The drawing I'm attaching was created for my weekly Cheez drawing blog while he was still missing.

The attached collage was created by my sister, writer and multimedia artist Sheila Smyth. RM and Sheila connected through social media and I have no doubt would've hung out together Downeast- fast friends, both funny and wordy folks.

Much love to everyone and to RMV.

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Photo memories of Richard

Richard was my best friend when I went to UNBSJ. Although it’s been years since we spent time together, I miss him dearly. I’ve been looking through my old photo albums and came across these photos. They’re all different – the many faces of RM Vaughan! Richard the serious intellectual, the clown, the smoker, the bizarre one, the artist. My favourite is the one of him the big over-sized sweater. I have countless, precious memories of hanging out with him when he wore that sweater – afternoons in the studio sipping tea and writing essays, then searching for treasures at Frenchy’s, Sally Ann, Loyalist City Coin. We had tons of laughs. I also found a Christmas card he gave to Ray and I; it’s one of his famous potato stamp projects.

Lots of love to all his family and friends!

This is a 2-minute video I made to remember Richard. Thanks for gathering these together. With best wishes, Michael

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Thanks for organizing this tribute to Richard. Here are a few pics of him from a party he had in Montreal in December 2019, as well as a Richard craft of Santa’s head being dragged off by a dinosaur complete with paper entrails.

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Here are a handful of Richard pictures from 1990-91.

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A few more pix, plus a wee layout with a pic sequence where he was impersonating a cat.

Silent the Day They Found You

For Richard

A tenacious few leaves clung to the wrists of trees,
Colour-bled and gnarling up at a chalk-blank sky;
But leaf-litter moulds and crowds the trunks,
Demanding an audience.
Imperfect on the slate harbor, the fossil cormorant
Crooked its head to the point that the river settles;
But flotsam dumbly crowds the rocks,
Demanding an audience.

Richard had Poutine for years and the I took him in when Richard went to Berlin - Poutine lived with me for about 3 years.

He is no longer with us. Poutine was a good cat - he was his own guy. Followed his own rules.

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Toronto Park Gathering.

A few recent memories

Attached are a few memories of my more recent times with Richard. Of course, the memories go back about 36 years overall, including his wonderful brilliance as a student, his perfect performance of Caliban in a production of The Tempest, reading his work in so many genres over the years, finding him on FaceBook (and being exhausted by it!), meeting up with him again at a book launch of mine six years ago (where he was hilarious about the other attendees). I am so sorry for all our loss.

Keith and Richard

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Tribute to Richard

Below is my tribute to Richard, for inclusion in the virtual memorial (as part of the tribute wall). I managed to more or less stick to the 600-word limit, give or take a word or two or ten.

Richard was one of a kind. I will miss him forever.

Acrylic on paper.

Shared Birthdays

Richard was born March 2nd. My birthday is March 3rd. Growing up, our mother always baked us a birthday cake and put up decorations. But most years there was just one cake. WE HAD TO SHARE!

In 1969, however, she threw us a curve ball. The infamous half cake. Richard's half was servered on March 2 and my half the following day.

An RM Remembrance

I am a Toronto interdisciplinary artist who knew Richard.

This is a remembrance I have composed:

Q & C
by Andrew James Paterson

Queerness and class sensitivity
Richard thought you can't have one without the other.
Richard was right.
To hell with sweater fags
To hell with assimilation
To hell with marriage
RM didn't hate straight people
But he strongly disliked heteronormativity.
That word......heteronormativity
Too many syllables.
Richard tended to be suspicious of too many syllables.
His dislike of heteronormativity
His class sensitivity
Made Richard suspicious of academics
Who had their heads so far up their asses
That they couldn't distinguish shit from bullshit
He was an authorized critic
He would get on his mike
He would cause trouble
Richard was all for trouble
He burned bridges
He didn't lose any sleep about burning bridges
That was part of his charm
Not part of his downfall.
Richard left the house without his phone
Somebody who doesn't take his phone
Either intends to go out briefly
Or go out forever.
Richard Murray Vaughan went out forever.
I wish he hadn't made this decision.

For Richie💜

I’m still trying to process all of this but sitting down and being crafty with my thoughts definitely helped. I’ve included a PDF of a small painting I did based around the art Richard would send to me.

Remembering...

My dear sweet man I can’t describe this feeling with words, your stock in trade. Your loss has left me silent. Maybe that’s the point.

This Richard gave me on the night before all the planes were supposed to fall out of the sky. His N looks like a W to me. It's hung in my kitchen for 20 years.

Taken 10 minutes before midnight - Taken at Victoria Ward / Gary Blundell's Parkdale apartment. Richard and I both loved this photo.

❤️
Thank you for the laughter. Thanks for all that love. Thank you for the many seriously silly and beautifully thoughtful gifts over our years. I sure will miss your postcards. I’ll never stop hearing you say my name. I will never stop saying yours.
XO

This image is from Art Fag 2000, organized at the Images Festival in 2000 by RM Vaughan and Roy Mitchell. I, Andrew James Paterson, am here being awarded Art Fag Forever. The Art Fag Award for 2000 went to Benny Nemerofsky Ramsay.

This event was held at Innis College Town Hall on April 22, 2000

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Richard loved his friends and he always kept in touch no matter how much time had passed, or what distance lay between. Postcards arrived in the mail regularly, often with a hilarious interpretation of the photo on the cover. He also used them to herald his arrival in your neck of the woods. And always, to send love and let you know he was thinking of you. Here is one of my favorites from 1999. No postmark, as it arrived inside a copy of his recently published collection of poetry, Invisible to Predators.

RM Vaughan Memory

Unfinished Chapters

My brother and I did not have many things in common. He was a writer and a master of the English language. I rely on Grammarly to write the simplest of emails. He was creative and expressive. I am analytical and stoic. He was always looking for the next adventure. I went to the same barber for over 50 years. Heck, we do not even share the same DNA.

But what we did share is the important stuff. The stuff that forms a bond that time, distance and death will never break. We share the same last name. We were adopted by the same loving parents. We shared far too many birthday cakes. And for 12 years we shared a bedroom.

To me, Richard will also be my little brother. That annoying little brother that always seemed to get away with stuff I never could. That same little brother who laid in the bed next to mine, sharing his hopes and dreams. Sharing his accomplishments and his frustrations.

We all travel different paths in life. Even brothers. The person we become is shaped by our experiences along that path. In recent years I have come to appreciate how much different my brother’s path in life was than mine. The courage he found to be true to who he was. The conviction he held to stand up for his beliefs. The example he set for others to chase their dreams without compromise.

Richard’s life story has ended all too soon. He had so much more to give. So many unfinished chapters left to write. But a story that has touched so many. A story that fills my heart.

Good night, “Rick”. I love you.

Bright Eyed book launch 2015

Generation Gap

Perhaps this is too Existential, but I'm haunted by these questions. A number of losses, suicide's, in particular have hit Toronto's art community. The context is real, each one with a name and full life. Katharine Mulherin, Laurel Woodcock, Wendy Coburn, and our Richard.

The attached writing is trying to unpick the knotted fabric of why. Mid-life has a new crisis that doesn't involve an affair or sports car.

Thank you for creating this space

Remembering Richard

I heard about the celebration of Richard. I wrote a poem about him and would love to contribute it. It's included just below.

We all miss him very much here in Berlin. It's a testament to him that he's so beloved to so many people.

RICHARD:

You hated Twitter
even though
you liked small things;

the campy, kitschy, clashy
things
they sell beside the street.

Postcards and poppets.
A felt mushroom on a stick.
You hand me a bag.

You hated fuss
just because
you liked small things.

*
We’d walk the woods
with my mind full
of big, big thoughts

of politics of power of
publishers of –
I forget

Then you’d point to those
small things:
the ice that cracks beneath our boots,
a leaf that’s lined like flesh and veins,
the roots.

And now you’ve gone
and all I’ve got’s
your postcards on my wall
and
in the middle of my hall’s
a felt mushroom on a stick
and
dangling hearts, all candy-bright.

And now you’ve gone
I dwell on how
much the small things weighed.
Those campy, kitschy, clashy things;
small enough
to hold and hang.
To hold and hang.

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Condolence Cards

Richard loved my work and this one in particular. He gave me confidence.

Tribute

This was something I originally wrote on Facebook to express my deepfelt thanks to my numerous friends who had shared posts of Richard’s disappearance. These were friends who had never met Richard themselves, yet made a space for him and his loved ones in their hearts during those excruciating 10 days. After reading it, many of them wrote to me expressing how they felt like they now knew Richard. They spoke of how much they wished they had had the pleasure of meeting him in person. They spoke of how inspired they felt by the life he lived and that they would do their best to carry his wisdom forward. It was their words that led me to re-share this piece as part of the tribute being assembled in honor of the massive love Richard inspired in those who did have the honor of calling him a friend in life.

House Dress e Flyer

Attached is a largely fabricated and comedic interview that I had with the late, great Richard Murray Vaughan.

My sincere condolences to all.

I miss my sister Lezzer very much.

A Treasure from Richard

This is a 2-minute video I made to remember Richard. Thanks for gathering these together. With best wishes, Michael

Memorial

Richard- light; love; sexuality; solidity; honour; trust; constant
Together in Berlin- our last happening
Together in the virtual- planning future time together
Come to Australia- I’m here for you.

For Richard

My first and only meeting of you was this summer.

I am grateful for that.

Hearing stories about you, I think you would have loved my Mother’s collection of Wade Red Rose tea figurines....so this seemed fitting.

Thinking of all of your family.

Poem for Richard

I lived with Richard for a few months about 20 years ago and after that, was mainly connected to him through my sister, Kirsten.

I wanted to make a contribution to his memorial wall. I thought the best way to commemorate him was with a poem. It's rather daunting to follow in his footsteps in this regard, but I hope I've managed to express some of my feelings about his passing.

For Richard

There’s a bent house on Dewson Street
that’s roused a dingy corner of my mind.
Thirty autumn nights have found me there
hiking its fun house floors
glimpsing the oily sheen of its walls
and curling in a cold room over a parking lot.

And you were there, too.
Cat-man, word wizard, spell-binder
at once fierce and panting venom
then spilling trinkets and glass baubles across the carpet
with deep red blushes.

In that haunting house
each guarded a heart held together by toothpicks
each battled a mountain that had sprouted legs
and could run fast
each taped a leaky knife wound with adhesive.

Twenty years on I feel your light on my face
trust in that dazzling wit and radiating warmth
and wish it might be otherwise.
Yes- that most of all. I wish for something,
something to arise from the dust and the decay,
something light and steadfast and without conditions
to make the forest familiar again
and to confirm that you’ve always had a home.

Christmas Gift from Richard

Memories from Richard Sanger

I received the attached memories of Richard from our mutual friend Richard Sanger, a poet and playwright in Toronto; he sent them to me and I thought they should be shared with you.

Remembering Richard

Richard's monsters

Here’s a small contribution to the tribute. It’s a photo of my office door. When Richard started his residency at UNB, he gave me these three adorable monster stickers and I stuck them right on my door. I imagine myself as one of these monsters, and Richard as one of them too—they give me hope that one might be both peculiar and loveable…in fact, loveable on account of being peculiar. This hope, this attitude—these stickers—are part of what I thank Richard for. The photo’s kind of fuzzy, but that’s the point—it’s not a fuzziness Richard would ever hold against me, is the kind of fuzziness he would embrace, the sign of a slightly shaky human hand.

A poem for Richard

Richard's Realm - A poem for a man who helped me.

Artists assemble, freaks unite, create through the night.

Remember me before I am gone.
Make plans, do a dance, bang a gong.

Squander not the days that we reside on this rock together.
We never know when a friend is drowning in stormy weather.

Opportunities die when we sit in stagnation.
Depression is the invention of suppression

Insight, your weird goes unwasted, it sheds another light.

Thank you for showing me creation and love in the void, I no longer run or avoid.

*I will create through my hate, I will love, I will not hesitate. The world is less colorful without you, but you showed me a spectrum I thought didn't belong for me. I still can't open our messages where we made plans to write together. I love you. 💞