Sleeping Beauty 17

Year: 2020
Medium: Flag material, colored cord, resin, fixative, on canvas
Hand signed, titled, and dated on verso
Size: 36 x 60 in (91.44 x 152.4 cm)
Frame size: 36.5 x 60.5 in (92.71 x 153.67 cm)

Selected exhibition history:
Museum of Biblical Art (TX, 2020-2021)
Chase Contemporary (NY)
Monthaven Arts and Cultural Center (TN, 2024)

“Ragged Glory” 2017 by Bernie Taupin

Essay accompanying “BERNIE TAUPIN | RAGGED GLORY ART AMERICANA” exhibition of paintings and sculptures, Callanwolde Foundation, Atlanta GA honoring the 100-th anniversary of Armistice Day.

My father was a quiet soldier who went to war in the desert fighting Rommel’s Afrika Corps before he became part of the “Forgotten Army” that pushed the Japanese out of the jungles of Burma. He won several medals for bravery, but never discussed his experiences. Reserved and modest, he chose to store them away until I grew to an age were my inquisitiveness forced his hand. Needless to say he remained a soldier all his life even after he was long out of uniform. I say this with a sense of pride; I also say it as a means to establish my feelings for symbols of patriotism, the foremost being the flag that flies above that which we serve.

Of all the flags of all the nations, you would be hard pressed to find one having a more far-reaching effect on the psyche of the world than our own Stars and Stripes. There are flags, and there are flags, and then there is Old Glory, its dramatic symbolism and powerful connotations reverberating with undeniable influence. Nations may quibble, but no other country displays its flag with more diligence and fervor than the U.S. On the main street of my little town in southern California, you can stand in the gas station and see eight American flags flying above grocery stores, barber shops, coffee houses, schools and private homes. There is a bond between the American people and their flag that cannot be duplicated anywhere else in the world. The handling of the flag, however, comes with an explicit set of rules, and this is where ideology and interpretation can clash.

There is a rigid respect and almost clinical kid glove approach to flag etiquette that one might argue seems ironic given its history. It’s a touchy subject made all the more sensitive given the nature of my work that some may interpret as disrespectful. Rest assured my motives are honorable. Every slash and burn, every stain and embellishment, all the billowing, twisting and folding, stitching and deconstruction are intended to project a sense of strength and resilience in the face of abject adversity. The correct way to dispose of a flag is by destroying it in a dignified manner preferably by burning it, while my way of respecting it is by breathing new life into it.

The United States flag has been shot through, shot down, trampled under foot and hidden under the floorboards of POW camps. She’s been defaced by our enemies, ripped by ill winds, raised at Iwo Jima and rescued from the rubble of 9/11. Between 1777 and 1960 the flag has changed face 27 times embracing its extended horizon. It has forged heroes and inspired poets, painters and authors. It is celebrated in song and eulogized like a living breathing entity.

I am equally as thrilled as others by the reverence afforded her and the pageantry that unifies great crowds whenever our anthem is played and that pristine beauty snaps in the wind. Although having said, that I think I’m always going to be a little bit in love with the organic grass roots version, slightly rough around the edges and flapping above some small town county courthouse – that ragged old glory.