Mel McCuddin was a big man, standing at least 6 feet, 2 inches tall, yet by all accounts he never made anyone feel small. Instead, the artist talked softly and carried a big paintbrush, so-to-speak, letting his canvasses say plenty.
Surrounded by artwork and his loving family, McCuddin passed away peacefully on Monday, Sept. 26 after a brief but rapid decline in health. He was 89.
Throughout his long life, McCuddin created a compelling universe of figures — humans, animals, birds, fish — emerging from glowing backgrounds with titles ranging from humor to irony.
“Top of the Food Chain” for a painting of a shark. “Flag Day” for an image of a wide, squarish man with a small head and striped shorts. Most of the time, however, McCuddin’s titles provided little clue as to what the paintings really meant, which may be one reason his work has been so popular.
Extremely popular, says Sue Bradley, owner of the former Tinman Gallery. Along with the late Harold Balazs (who died in 2017), McCuddin was “one of the few artists in our region that could generate a buying frenzy at a show’s opening,” she notes.
McCuddin didn’t seek publicity or opportunities to talk about his work, but obliged when asked, like when The Art Spirit Gallery staged a panel discussion about Balazs, McCuddin’s lifelong friend.
Surrounded by artwork and his loving family, McCuddin passed away peacefully on Monday, Sept. 26 after a brief but rapid decline in health. He was 89.
Throughout his long life, McCuddin created a compelling universe of figures — humans, animals, birds, fish — emerging from glowing backgrounds with titles ranging from humor to irony.
“Top of the Food Chain” for a painting of a shark. “Flag Day” for an image of a wide, squarish man with a small head and striped shorts. Most of the time, however, McCuddin’s titles provided little clue as to what the paintings really meant, which may be one reason his work has been so popular.
Extremely popular, says Sue Bradley, owner of the former Tinman Gallery. Along with the late Harold Balazs (who died in 2017), McCuddin was “one of the few artists in our region that could generate a buying frenzy at a show’s opening,” she notes.
McCuddin didn’t seek publicity or opportunities to talk about his work, but obliged when asked, like when The Art Spirit Gallery staged a panel discussion about Balazs, McCuddin’s lifelong friend.
I interviewed McCuddin several times over the years, most recently in 2021 for an Inlander Health & Home article, finding the Spokane Valley he shared with wife Gloria full of artwork from local and regional artists. It hung on the wall alongside McCuddin’s own work, travel mementos and drawings by the couple’s grandchildren.
When students at a Coeur d’Alene arts-focused elementary school fundraised to purchase one of McCuddin’s paintings, he stopped by to visit with the kids. When he found out I had purchased one of his paintings, McCuddin sent me a local writer’s book featuring his painting on the cover.
KSPS television producer Scott McKinnon, who met the McCuddins in 2021 while profiling him for Northwest Profiles, says McCuddin was “one of the most engaging and unassuming” people he’d ever interviewed.
When students at a Coeur d’Alene arts-focused elementary school fundraised to purchase one of McCuddin’s paintings, he stopped by to visit with the kids. When he found out I had purchased one of his paintings, McCuddin sent me a local writer’s book featuring his painting on the cover.
KSPS television producer Scott McKinnon, who met the McCuddins in 2021 while profiling him for Northwest Profiles, says McCuddin was “one of the most engaging and unassuming” people he’d ever interviewed.
McKinnon was also impressed by “Mel’s enduring relationship with his wife Gloria,” to whom he was married 69 years.
I interviewed McCuddin several times over the years, most recently in 2021 for an Inlander Health & Home article, finding the Spokane Valley he shared with wife Gloria full of artwork from local and regional artists. It hung on the wall alongside McCuddin’s own work, travel mementos and drawings by the couple’s grandchildren.
Mel and Gloria frequented artists’ receptions in North Idaho as well as Spokane, and Mel would overcome his reticence to participate in painting demonstrations or gallery chats, says The Art Spirit Gallery’s Blair Williams, who has known the couple since taking over the gallery in 2017.
I interviewed McCuddin several times over the years, most recently in 2021 for an Inlander Health & Home article, finding the Spokane Valley he shared with wife Gloria full of artwork from local and regional artists. It hung on the wall alongside McCuddin’s own work, travel mementos and drawings by the couple’s grandchildren.
Mel and Gloria frequented artists’ receptions in North Idaho as well as Spokane, and Mel would overcome his reticence to participate in painting demonstrations or gallery chats, says The Art Spirit Gallery’s Blair Williams, who has known the couple since taking over the gallery in 2017.
Kind, humble, and generous. These are the words people I spoke with used to describe McCuddin, whom they admired both personally and professionally.
“All my life, I’ve never seen him be disrespectful to anyone,” says his son Neil McCuddin, noting that he and his siblings, brother Mason McCuddin and sister Colleen Cicarelli, “won the parent lottery.”
“Mel is a gentle spirit, a rarity in today’s society,” says Beth Sellars, a former art curator for the Northwest Museum of Arts & Culture (when it was the Cheney Cowles Museum), who helped jumpstart McCuddin’s career in 1987 with a two-person show.
A few years later and for the next six years, Sellars got to know McCuddin better when he joined a volunteer arts committee at the museum.
“Mel McCuddin’s [volunteer] involvement was solid, ever present, persistent, and quietly provided in much the same way he has led his entire life and artistic career,” Sellars says.
“When I hear Mel’s name I can’t help but smile,” adds Williams, who recently began installing McCuddin’s final exhibition at The Art Spirit Gallery, planned before he died, and on display all of October.
“That will never leave me. He will always be a part of the gallery,” Williams says.
McCuddin started painting in the 1950s, a young man influenced by modernists Willem de Koonig, Francis Bacon and Modigliani. Those early works were more abstract than the figurative paintings McCuddin has become known for over the past 40 years, paintings that bemused some and bewitched others.
Williams notices that people in the gallery “either loved Mel’s work, or they couldn’t quite comprehend it.”
Sometimes, even for those who loved his work (or maybe because of this), McCuddin’s imagery could seem a little dark.
“[Mel’s] ability to reach out and get people’s imaginations racing is just fascinating,” says son Neil, who remembers how as little kids, he and Mason would scare themselves silly over a painting of a railroad worker that hung in the family basement.
Sometimes people’s imaginations got the better of them.
When “The Patriot” with its upside-down flag, a distress symbol, landed Mel’s painting in USA Today, McCuddin was dismayed at the supposed controversy. And when Neil asked if his father would capitalize on his newfound fame, the elder McCuddin declined.
“I just want to paint,” Neil recalls his father saying.
“All my life, I’ve never seen him be disrespectful to anyone,” says his son Neil McCuddin, noting that he and his siblings, brother Mason McCuddin and sister Colleen Cicarelli, “won the parent lottery.”
“Mel is a gentle spirit, a rarity in today’s society,” says Beth Sellars, a former art curator for the Northwest Museum of Arts & Culture (when it was the Cheney Cowles Museum), who helped jumpstart McCuddin’s career in 1987 with a two-person show.
A few years later and for the next six years, Sellars got to know McCuddin better when he joined a volunteer arts committee at the museum.
“Mel McCuddin’s [volunteer] involvement was solid, ever present, persistent, and quietly provided in much the same way he has led his entire life and artistic career,” Sellars says.
“When I hear Mel’s name I can’t help but smile,” adds Williams, who recently began installing McCuddin’s final exhibition at The Art Spirit Gallery, planned before he died, and on display all of October.
“That will never leave me. He will always be a part of the gallery,” Williams says.
McCuddin started painting in the 1950s, a young man influenced by modernists Willem de Koonig, Francis Bacon and Modigliani. Those early works were more abstract than the figurative paintings McCuddin has become known for over the past 40 years, paintings that bemused some and bewitched others.
Williams notices that people in the gallery “either loved Mel’s work, or they couldn’t quite comprehend it.”
Sometimes, even for those who loved his work (or maybe because of this), McCuddin’s imagery could seem a little dark.
“[Mel’s] ability to reach out and get people’s imaginations racing is just fascinating,” says son Neil, who remembers how as little kids, he and Mason would scare themselves silly over a painting of a railroad worker that hung in the family basement.
Sometimes people’s imaginations got the better of them.
When “The Patriot” with its upside-down flag, a distress symbol, landed Mel’s painting in USA Today, McCuddin was dismayed at the supposed controversy. And when Neil asked if his father would capitalize on his newfound fame, the elder McCuddin declined.
“I just want to paint,” Neil recalls his father saying.
Karen Mobley, the former City of Spokane arts director, loved how McCuddin’s “sense of humor emerges in his paintings — the quirky people, the animals with the human-like eyes, the curious juxtapositions of scale and pattern.”
Mobley met McCuddin in the 1990s and showed his work at Chase Gallery, adding that “McCuddin was prolific and always seemed to be having fun with his work.”
Bradley, who showed McCuddin’s paintings at Tinman Gallery, observes that “Mel was one of those artists who really let the canvas speak to him and tell him what to paint.”
Sellars concurs. “[Mel] always discussed the finished paintings with a sense of wonder, as though he were the conduit for what the painting wished to be.”
McCuddin’s painting technique was unconventional and intuitive, paralleling how Renaissance sculptor Michelangelo describes his process of releasing the figures from the marble he carved. After layering paint onto the canvas, McCuddin would smudge some areas, wipe away others, and look at the painting different ways — in the mirror, upside down, with smeared eyeglasses — then outline or enhance shapes as he saw them emerge (a process documented in a video in 2015).
Mobley met McCuddin in the 1990s and showed his work at Chase Gallery, adding that “McCuddin was prolific and always seemed to be having fun with his work.”
Bradley, who showed McCuddin’s paintings at Tinman Gallery, observes that “Mel was one of those artists who really let the canvas speak to him and tell him what to paint.”
Sellars concurs. “[Mel] always discussed the finished paintings with a sense of wonder, as though he were the conduit for what the painting wished to be.”
McCuddin’s painting technique was unconventional and intuitive, paralleling how Renaissance sculptor Michelangelo describes his process of releasing the figures from the marble he carved. After layering paint onto the canvas, McCuddin would smudge some areas, wipe away others, and look at the painting different ways — in the mirror, upside down, with smeared eyeglasses — then outline or enhance shapes as he saw them emerge (a process documented in a video in 2015).
McCuddin worked quickly, joking in a 2021 Inlander interview that sometimes it took longer for the paint to dry than to create a finished work.
Working on several paintings at once, McCuddin was able to put out enough work to be represented by two galleries: The Art Spirit, where he’s shown since 1997, as well as at Mango Tango Gallery on Saint Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands.
“I like to think there’s going to be something worthwhile when I’m gone,” he’d said of his paintings.
Working on several paintings at once, McCuddin was able to put out enough work to be represented by two galleries: The Art Spirit, where he’s shown since 1997, as well as at Mango Tango Gallery on Saint Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands.
“I like to think there’s going to be something worthwhile when I’m gone,” he’d said of his paintings.
By any measure, McCuddin achieved a level of success that any artist would aspire to.
In addition to an enviable gallery history, McCuddin’s paintings and his presence were often in demand. His work was featured in print, for example, such as on the cover of Maya Jewell Zeller’s first book of poetry, Rust Fish, and inside the Spokane Veterans Memorial Arena, which has six McCuddin paintings over two entrance areas. In 2019, McCuddin was the subject of a 2019 book, McCuddin: The Inner Eye, by former Spokesman-Review columnist Doug Clark and his wife Sherry.
Despite being mostly self-taught, McCuddin was an accomplished draftsman, says Bradley.
“[Mel] could create character and expression with just a few marks,” she says.
Yet for all his successes, the mostly self-taught McCuddin remained humble and kept pushing the boundaries of what he could do with his art.
“[Mel] never really made sales his priority, preferring to make the art for its own sake,” says his son Mason.
Mason started collaborating with his father in the ’80s, photographing and documenting the senior McCuddin’s artwork, including for Mel’s October exhibition at The Art Spirit.
Mason recalls a recent conversation about several paintings for the upcoming show that were unlike McCuddin’s highly recognizable style of figurative work.
“He was a little concerned that they might not be received as well as the ‘usual’ Mel McCuddin pieces,” notes Mason, who was struck by his father’s humility. “He’s this big deal painter who it seems like everyone loves, and he’s worried that people might not like this new work.”
Mason also asked his father if he would change anything or were there any art regrets,” to which Mel replied that he would have played things less safe and taken a few more chances.
“The gist was pretty much ‘don’t wait and don’t stop growing.” ♦
Editor's note: This story has been updated to correct the date of McCuddin's death, and the number of years he was married to his wife, Gloria.
In addition to an enviable gallery history, McCuddin’s paintings and his presence were often in demand. His work was featured in print, for example, such as on the cover of Maya Jewell Zeller’s first book of poetry, Rust Fish, and inside the Spokane Veterans Memorial Arena, which has six McCuddin paintings over two entrance areas. In 2019, McCuddin was the subject of a 2019 book, McCuddin: The Inner Eye, by former Spokesman-Review columnist Doug Clark and his wife Sherry.
Despite being mostly self-taught, McCuddin was an accomplished draftsman, says Bradley.
“[Mel] could create character and expression with just a few marks,” she says.
Yet for all his successes, the mostly self-taught McCuddin remained humble and kept pushing the boundaries of what he could do with his art.
“[Mel] never really made sales his priority, preferring to make the art for its own sake,” says his son Mason.
Mason started collaborating with his father in the ’80s, photographing and documenting the senior McCuddin’s artwork, including for Mel’s October exhibition at The Art Spirit.
Mason recalls a recent conversation about several paintings for the upcoming show that were unlike McCuddin’s highly recognizable style of figurative work.
“He was a little concerned that they might not be received as well as the ‘usual’ Mel McCuddin pieces,” notes Mason, who was struck by his father’s humility. “He’s this big deal painter who it seems like everyone loves, and he’s worried that people might not like this new work.”
Mason also asked his father if he would change anything or were there any art regrets,” to which Mel replied that he would have played things less safe and taken a few more chances.
“The gist was pretty much ‘don’t wait and don’t stop growing.” ♦
Editor's note: This story has been updated to correct the date of McCuddin's death, and the number of years he was married to his wife, Gloria.
