Arizona Sketch Book: Stephen Golembeski....

Arizona Sketch Book Portrait in Courage

Stephen Golembeski Conquering the handicap of paralysis, which left his right hand useless, this artist has achieved fame through his art work, which is strong, brave and bold.

STEPHEN GOLEMBESKI was born in Poland, about two miles from the city of War saw, in 1897. When he was nine months old he came to New York with his parents, where he lived for a few years; then he lived with his family in Wor ceste Massachusetts, where he at tended grammar and high school. He studied for one year at the Worcester Art Museum and three years at the Boston school of Painting. Later he worked for newspapers in Boston and New York, doing sketching, illustrating and cartooning.

That is the ordinary story of Stephen Golembeski. Here is the extraordinary story of this artist: In 1922 he was stricken with paraly sis. For several years he was totally disabled, almost hopelessly beyond re pair. He spent six months in a hospital in Maine, and then buried himself for three years to engage in the heartless and overwhelming task of regaining the use of his limbs. He had to learn to draw with his left hand for it was apparent his working right hand would never serve. Drawing was his life and his livelihood. Today he still bears the marks of paralysis: a right hand with stiff, ineffective fingers, a noticeable limp, a speech defect. But his art work is strong and brave and bold, valiant evidence of the years he spent to learn to draw with his left hand and to over come the ravage of a dread disease.

During the late 20's and early 30's his life was the life of vagabondage. Buenos Aires ports of call in Mexico and the races of America from Florida to Santa Anita from Chicago to New Orleans. Eight years ago he came to Phoenix, where he lives today. "Here," he says, "the climate, and the fact that I have been able to remain out-of-doors in all seasons, seems to have benefited me greatly. I have given a great deal of my time trying to bring my faculties under better con trol."

Through the years he has gone on, winning a glorious battle, plodding with his drawing, painting and sketch ing in proud defiance against the most terrible enemies of all men-poverty and illness.Here in the west he has taken the Indians and the Mexicans as the subject for his work. His painting, "Eats," a brilliant study of a Pow-wow scene at Flagstaff, now the property of the Eber hard-Faber Pencil Co., was displayed at the Arizona exhibit at the New York World's Fair.

The Arizona Sketch Book concerns itself with a portfolio of his Mexican sketches, which were made several years ago on a trip down the west coast of Mexico. His oil paintings portray in strong color and honest line Mexico of the poor people in every-day life how they live, work and pass their time. If you have been in Nogales, Her mosillo, Guaymas, and as far south in Sonora as Navajoa and if you have stopped in little places like Magdalena and Santa Ana-you will appreciate the truthful portrayal of Mr. Golembeski's artistry.How an artist travels in Mexico is re vealed in a short account of his trip. Here are a few passages: At Guaymas. "At Guaymas our room (30c American each) looked out to the west upon the bay where floated fishing boats and a few naval vessels (some officers, quite fat, had their senoritas at the hotel) and we had plenty of friends in a short time. In the morning the clear musical notes of the fine oldchurch bell across the street awoke us gently with the aid of the bright sun. Our room was very high with beamed ceiling and two tremendous doors opening to the balcony which was twenty feet above the sidewalk. From the balcony could be seen on the right a lush park with bandstand; on the left many one-story homes in pastel tints. The middle view was divided between a street perspective, an outlook to the water and a handsome Spanish church built in 1500. Fair young things paraded arm in arm and the air was full of sun rays and fragrant to the nos trils. Guaymas is not only a city pleasant to the eye, but to the senses as well."

On the road. "At one point we encountered twenty-five large vultures vieing with a hound dog for the remains of a very dead horse whose ribs gleamed white in the sunshine. The head of the dog was literally black with large flies as he tore hungrily at the tough strands of tissue."

Along the Yaqui. "We crossed Yaqui river on a primitive raft poled by four giant Indians in colorful shirts. Then on through a rich irrigated semi-tropical valley and into Obregon, a completely Mexican town. The natives, mostly Indian, smiled sweetly and curious. They fed us well, showed their livestock, patios, handiwork, then waved us on our way after supplying us with plenty of fruit and tequilla."

Such is Mexico through the eyes of