Parke - Picturing Prince: An Intimate Portrait

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When Steve asked me to write a foreword for this book, my initial reaction was to respectfully decline. Like many of you, the event of Princes passing had left me feeling exhausted and confused regarding which direction to choose in moving on. I also felt some hesitation, knowing that Prince was very protective of and private in his personal lifesomething that I, as a friend and fellow artist, respect and understand. Its this other side of us that helps to sustain the level of celebrity and mystery that fans come to expect of an artist. But, more importantly, its a facet of our lives that helps us to maintain our humanity and that keeps us connected to the real world, something we often find ourselves insulated from.

Prince was an enigma to the public, perhaps one of the greatest in modern history. It is what most would say and agree with and also its the wrapping in which most who did know him dress their own stories of him: the mystery, the magic, the unknown. I understand that its how the public came to relate to and appreciate Prince the artist, the celebrity, the genius. But what of the man himself? To me, and to many of us who knew Prince personally, to have had those times of friendship, collaboration, and interaction that existed outside the circle of celebrity, how would those be conveyed without violating the respect and privacy of such a beloved friend?

Out of respect for Steve, as an artist and friend, I put aside my anxieties and decided to take a peek at the work he had created (and which you now hold in your hand), and found myself adrift in memories of the man that I knew. Upon perusing the text and photos therein I smiled, laughed, and cried at the beautiful recollections shared by a person whose responsibility it was to capture the essence of Prince and translate it into a format that would be acceptable to and understood by his mass of followers. Through this work, Steve has once more given us images and messages that not only support the public Prince persona but also reveal the real person that some of us were so very fortunate to know.

I know that, in sharing this work with you, Steve has enabled you to catch a glimpse of so much more than Prince the celebrity. Perhaps you will come to realize, too, that the world lost so much more than just a celebrated Prince; it lost a man whose humanity will touch and color the world for many dawns to come.

The morning of April 21, 2016, my friend George in St. Paul, Minnesota, called me at my studio in Baltimore to ask if Id heard the news. Something had happened at Paisley Park, he said. Then, the news broke that a body had been found there. I imagined it was an employee, maybe someone Id known during my own 13 years there, but I hoped not. More calls came, and then my phone was buzzing non-stop and emails were flying around as well as news reports online until, finally, the confirmationPrince was dead. Found in the elevator. I knew that elevator. It was across the hall from where my office had been all those years before; back then, Id hear the ding of that elevator and know he was coming.

At first, I didnt have time to take it in because all at once reporters from magazines and newspapers were callingit seemed as if every media outlet in the world phoned me that daybut then I turned off the ringer, shut off the internet, and just sat for a while and tried to comprehend it.

I hadnt seen Prince in 15 years, since Id quit; Id burned myself out and wanted to spend more time with my infant son. Id always thought Id see him again. I didnt think he would die. Im sure he didnt think he would die. When speculation came over the next days that he didnt leave a will, I wasnt too surprised. Hed once made an argument that buying health insurance was like asking to get sick.

This news brought a memory to the fore: when wed sat in my office listening quietly to Stevie Wonders Fullingness First Finale album; Prince and I spent countless hours together listening to music we both loved. The track They Wont Go When I Go was wrapping up and the song ends introspectively:

When I go / Where Ill go / No one can keep me / From my destiny

When the synths faded out, he looked up at me and said: Im just not going to go at all.

* * * * * *

As a teenager in Fairfax, Virginia, in the late 1970s and early 80s, I never would have dreamed Id end up working for Prince. I was a huge fanspreading the gospel of Prince long before it was hip and before anyone I knew had even heard of him (You mean that girl on Soft and Wet is a guy ?). At that time, all I wanted to do was draw and listen to music.

A few years later, thanks to a TV producer friend on the local broadcast of Friday Night Videos , I started shooting concert photos at local music venues for them to feature each month between breaks. In the late 80s I met Sheila E. (a friend to this day) when she was opening for Lionel Richie. I also became friends with her guitarist Levi Seacer Jr., and was super excited when, a little while later, he was hired to be in Princes band. I was doing a lot of photorealistic paintings then and Levi suggested showing my work to Prince. Of course, I was thrilled. So, over the next months I sent a few of my paintings off to Levi in Minnesota.

And then one day Alan Leeds, Princes manager, called me out of the blue, asking if I could paint designs on a stage floor. I was 25 and even though Id never done anything exactly like that, I said, Yes! (Hell yes! ). They booked me a plane ticket from Baltimore to Minneapolis, and from there I was driven out of the city and past the cornfields to Paisley Park.

Levi had already told me that Prince had fired the last design team because it wasnt producing quickly enough, so I knew I had something to prove.

I met Prince brieflybut there was no time to register the moment as it turned out he was flying to France in three hours and I had to come up with a design plan that he approved before then.

I hopped up like an over-caffeinated rabbit and ran around the studio, trying to wrap my brain around what was happening visually, or maybe just what was happening. Trying to get a handle on the kind of look hed like, I studied the direction Prince had taken for his latest creation, picked through bags of jewelry in the wardrobe department, and looked at the art for the