It all started in Kalamazoo...
Autobiographical stuff for those of you who care.
I was born in Kalamazoo, Michigan (made famous in Glenn Miller's 1942 song: "I've got a Gal in Kalamazoo"). I was quickly adopted by Marv and Helen Gentry, who soon proved to be exceptional parents:
Aren't they cute?
Anyhow, they somehow found the emotional wherewithal to support their odd child in his determination to make a living as a fine artist. From a very young age, perhaps two years or earlier, I amused myself by drawing, almost to the exclusion of all other activities. My dad, who was employed as a computer-programmer, would bring home entire reams of printer-paper for me, which I quickly exhausted in my eagerness to render hundreds of redundant Crayola-crayon depictions of dinosaurs and movie monsters.
I spent the first twenty-something years of my life in Livonia, Michigan, a suburb of Detroit. It did have its good points, when the place wasn't frozen under two feet of snow and ice. My favorite time of year was during the autumn months. Here are photos of my home street in October:
Mayfield Street in full Autumn color...
...and a foggy morning in our front yard.
I can't place enough emphasis on the importance of the autumn season toward the development of my aesthetic sensibilities in regard to Hawai'i. That may seem completely counter-intuitive, but the mountainous areas of Hawai'i actually share many similarities with the temperate autumn, including soft light, cool temperatures, and moody, misty atmospheres. The childhood experience of trick-or-treating from house to house on dark Halloween nights was actually a great source of motivation for many of my night paintings like "Mountain Home" and contributed to my current preoccupation with the more mysterious, off-kilter elements of the natural world.
Artistic ability was my sole claim-to-fame throughout my earlier years of school. I went on to attend the University of Michigan School of Art, and graduated in 1991 with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree. I did initially consider other directions of study, imagining that they would be wiser choices in terms of future financial stability, but I found my artistic callings to be far too distracting to allow for sufficient attention to other concerns - a circumstance which was absolutely ruinous to my grades during one particular semester.
My move to Hawai'i in the summer of 1993, just before the July 4th holiday, was not an example of impulsive spontaneity on my part. Rather, it was a substantially delayed reaction to a long-term fascination with islands, volcanoes, and the tropics in general. This began for me at a very early age, during our first family vacation in Florida, where Disney World attractions like the "Enchanted Tiki Room" and the "Pirates of the Caribbean," combined with Florida's own balmy weather and abundant palm trees, all conspired to steer my young imagination in a tropical direction.
I soon became enamored with Hawai'i from afar, years before actually visiting the place, while simply presenting a school report about the state when I was in the 4th grade or so. No one else was covering Hawai'i, and the place seemed strange and exotic, so I chose it for the subject of my report. While dutifully copying down the essential facts of Hawaii's existence (population, agriculture, state tree....), all conveniently recorded in the World Book Encyclopedia, I also marveled at photos of Hawaii's natural wonders. Every year thereafter, I submitted an annual request to my parents that we should make Hawai'i the destination of our next family vacation, and eventually we enjoyed a week's stay on Kaua'i when I was about 15 years old.
My most influential experience on Kaua'i was at the overlook for Kalalau Valley, at the end of Waimea Canyon Road. There, I stood at eye-level with gigantic clouds and peered into an eroded landscape so spectacular that it far exceeded all of my best expectations. The valley was vast and glorious and colorful, yet touched with an undercurrent of menace - emerging from the fog, the surrounding forest was dark and grim, a truly prehistoric "lost world," and the overwhelming scale of the surrounding landscape was thoroughly intimidating. It was just great.
For many years afterward, I collected a rather impressive personal library of books about all things Hawaiian, especially regarding island geology and natural history, most of which I read cover-to-cover at least once. I also made two subsequent trips to the islands, visiting Kaua'i again in addition to Maui and Hawai'i.
After moving to Maui in 1993, I worked as a night security guard for more than seven years, while attending to my artistic pursuits during the day. Although these two occupations are widely regarded as psychologically incompatible with one another, the combination worked quite well for me. I also began teaching art part-time, first at the Art School at Kapalua and later at Maui Community College. For awhile, with security and teaching positions combined, I was maintaining three part-time jobs.
Meanwhile, I was attempting to improve my painting ability. My paintings were still very weak when I first moved to Maui, so it was several years before I was even remotely ready for gallery representation. Thankfully, I met a young painter named Bill Rodgers, who taught me a great deal about traditional oil-painting techniques, after which my work improved quickly and dramatically. Soon thereafter, in March of 1997, I began showing work at The Village Gallery in Lahaina. Every year at the gallery was a little better than the last, and I was finally able to achieve full-time self-employment in 2001. Participation in juried shows like "Art Maui" and the "Schaefer Portrait Challenge" have also done much to increase my public notoriety in Hawai'i in recent years.