So, I had this big ol' phone interview with Jonathan Green the other day. Yep, THE Jonathan Green, Lowcountry artist extraordinaire. He's coming to USCB for a lecture on March 4th, and I wanted to get the scoop about that and a bunch of other things. I was incredibly edgy all day as I awaited the appointed hour of our call. As the clock ticked ever-closer to 2 pm, I felt the butterflies multiplying exponentially in my stomach. I don't know about y'all, but famous people make me nervous. Even on the phone. No... especially on the phone. In person, you have that face-to-face potential to connect: It doesn't always work, but at least you've got a fighting chance. Over the phone, though? Ugh. I hate it. Throw in the fact that I had to put the phone on speaker and record the whole thing  – hoping against hope my technology wouldn't fail me – and you had the makings of a tense, not particularly natural, encounter.

Are you sweating yet? Well, calm down. It turned out fine. More than fine. In fact, I'm so excited about this interview, I'm posting it almost a week before it's out in print. Jonathan was open and friendly and absolutely nothing was off limits. Are you wondering why he's come home to the Lowcountry after 35-plus years? What he thinks about the proposed whopping big budget cuts – both state and federal – to the arts? How he feels about all those Jonathan Green copy cats out there? What he's passionate about now?  He answers all those questions and more, and some of his answers might surprise you. 

Here's how the piece starts (with many thanks to my friend Pat Conroy):

When Jonathan Green came into the world, he brought with him an inescapable sign of his specialness. He was born wearing a caul, an inner fetal membrane that covered his head at birth. In some societies, this is interpreted as a token of great luck or that this child will never know death by drowning. But in the Gullah society along the South Carolina coast, it insures that the child is touched by an uncommonness and magic that will bring inordinate grace to the community. From the beginning, Jonathan Green was marked and grew up known as "the child of the veil."                                                                                                  – Pat Conroy

 I’d heard he was “enigmatic.” This made me nervous. Much like the figures in his iconic paintings – most of whom look away from the viewer, lost in concentration or some sacred reverie – I feared he might be private… reserved… a little standoffish. What I encountered, instead, was a man just as warm and welcoming as the exuberant, sun-drenched landscapes those cryptic figures inhabit.

What can I tell you about Jonathan Green that you don’t already know? With the possible exception of writer Pat Conroy, no living artist has done so much to capture the world’s imagination and focus it squarely – longingly – on the South Carolina Lowcountry. His career has been one long series of bright, beautiful postcards from his native land. “Wish you were here,” they whispered and sang… even though the artist, himself, was not.

Now, more than 35 years after leaving this place with which his name is practically synonymous – first for Chicago, then Naples, FL – Jonathan Green has come home. He spoke to me by telephone from his new studio in Charleston…

Margaret Evans: Jonathan, what possessed you to leave Naples after 25 years and return to the Lowcountry?

Jonathan Green: Well, so much of my work has always been here in Charleston. Exhibitions, public speaking engagements… so much of it was here. The travel expenses were adding up, and frankly, the recent economy has been terrible for artists. So, I figured this would be a great opportunity to slightly alter my lifestyle. I would be closer to my work, closer to my subject, and more important, closer to most of my relatives. Many of my people are getting older and even dying… This just seemed like a perfect opportunity at a perfect time.

Read the rest here.