"Give one child a hammer and he will build a house; give another child a hammer and he will tear it down." Like it or not, this is a basic fact of human nature."
The same principle applies to art. A piece of stone in the hands of Michaelangelo can become a masterpiece; in the hands of another, it will break out a window. Give Da Vinci a little paint, a brush and a board and he will paint the Mona Lisa.
The difference in these cases is genius; that little understood and very rare quality of certain individuals which allows them-- NO, it compels them to produce order from chaos and beauty from the commonplace.
Like art and beauty, genius is not an easy word to define. We won't try. Ironically, this website is devoted to these indefinables. Specifically it is devoted to the surviving paintings of Bobby Dean Moore, his life, and his boundless love of beauty. It is dedicated to the memory of his mother, Mary Alma Moore and to all who are lovers of beauty. One such lover of beauty is Tyler artist, Kenneth Newsom, whose paintings are included in this edition of "The Gallery". We think you will find his works brightly colorful and refreshing.
(Photo: Mary Alma Moore, August 1, 1898)
Even at the age of three, Bobby's artistic bent was showing itself. He baked mud pies which he had sculpted into the shape of roasted ducks and turkeys. He laid out intricate designs on his mother's kitchen table from freshly cut carrot slices and he decorated tiny Christmas trees made from evergreen twigs.
Bobby was born during the World War II era and his father was a locomotive engineer, so many of his earliest drawings were of the machines of war and the powerful steam engines which he learned to love. Crude oil refineries were commonplace in the East Texas oilfields where he grew up and were the subject of some of his earliest paintings.
Three teachers nurtured Bobby's artistic ability, all of whom were related, and all of whom were students of art; Mozel Brown in the first grade, third grade teacher, Marylouise Yarbrough, and fifth grade teacher, Zelma Yarbrough. It was in Zelma's class that Bobby established his reputation as a painter.
He worked with watercolors, tempra and pastels but he quickly found his medium in oils. The energy and force which he brought to the canvas demanded it.
His now famous and very first oil painting (Fall Colors), is currently featured on this website and in the Bobby Moore Gallery. It was painted with a boar bristle brush on a non-stretched remnant of heavy canvas freyed at the edges. It violates just about every rule for painting in oils," he asserted. "It was a product of emotion; pure and simple."
(Photo: first oil painting)
Bobby's compulsion from early on was to paint not only what he saw, but what he felt. "I am not a highly disciploined painter; I paint what I feel. If I'm happy, I paint happy scenes with bright colors. And when I am dejected or sad, the paintings show it," he said
During the twelfth and thirteenth years of his life the young artist painted hundreds of canvases. Most of them were vibrant scenes from the woodland trails and streams where he spent his childhood and early adolescence. "This was the most productive time of my life artistically. It was a time of complete freedom, innocence and joy. And the paintings showed it."
Later, in an effort to help ease the financial burden of grinding poverty he painted signs, murals, an occasional landscape and while still in high school he worked for a family enterprise painting wild roses on handmade wooden doll furniture. Some complete sets of this furniture still exist and are now sought after as collector's items.
He wrote for and drew illustrations for several publications including the Whitehouse Journal, The Tyler Star and The Tyler Chronicle newspapers. He made patent drawings for local inventors. He entered several competitions and scored at the top, but he later rejected art competitions. "Art is a subjective thing, no matter how you look at it. It simply can't be judged on a purely objective basis. You can judge craftsmanship and technique, but not art."
With few exceptions the entire lifetime collection of Bobby's paintings were stored in the little house in the woods where he had grown up. The house mysteriously burned January 19, 1985. His 86 year old mother burned to death in the fire trying to save the paintings.
Yes, the fire which destroyed his homeplace and took the life of his sainted mother also destroyed the paintings of his lifetime. Not a one was saved from the fire.
Sunday morning, January 20, 1985 dawned bleak and bitterly cold on a scene of utter destruction. The fire trucks left and Bobby stood alone, emotionally devastated and shivering in the cold of dawn. His life, or what was left of it, would never be the same.
And neither was his painting the same. “Every canvas I touched after the fire turned to flames” he said. Instead of the shaded green woods, blue skies and sunny fields of the paintings of his youth, he now depicted scenes of darkness, lightning, and billowing flames. “They were scenes from hell”, he said.
(Photo: burned oak tree in front yard)
Bobby survived the trauma of the fire by immersing himself in his work. He enlarged his business enterprises, built the Mary Alma Moore Memorial Park and most importantly, founded the Mary Alma Moore Association in memory of his mother.
He is currently writing his autobiography and he paints more than ever before. You are invited to visit the Bobby D. Moore gallery at this site.
NOTE: This article is confined to Bobby’s painting. For a more complete account of his life’s work read “My Struggle; the Life and Times of Bobby D. Moore”. Reserve your copy now.
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