A Work of Art By Sarah Wheeler
My late father’s name was Arthur McConnell, but he never liked being called Art. Instead, he reprised his childhood nickname when I was in middle school and was from that point on called “Bud” by family and friends. But I think “Art” represented his true self. A plaque on the building he renovated on our farm read “This is a work of Art,” and that’s how I see much of his creative and beautiful life. He ran a heating and air conditioning business for work, but he was an artist, and his “works of Art” remain; the beauty he appreciated and crafted is his true legacy.
Some artists prefer oil on canvas, others clay. But my father’s most memorable artworks were created with rather unique materials: Constructing a human pyramid on the beach with six sweaty and sunburned Irish people, for example, is an unusual artform, designed with an unstable and uncooperative medium. He pulled off not one but two of these ephemeral masterpieces, incorporating new members of our growing family, and we have the stunning performance photography documenting it. He also made us create a human “40” to celebrate my
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