TR Colletta

About the Artist

The son of an American/German mother and an Italian/American father, TR Colletta was born in Buffalo in 1954. He grew up in the Town of Tonawanda, NY, where he received his first set of oil paints in eighth grade. In high school, he studied piano and music composition, and played the French Horn in the school band and orchestra. In 1971, he became the organist at First Presbyterian in the City of Tonawanda, NY.

Upon graduating cum laude from the State University of New York College at Buffalo in 1974 with a Bachelor of Science Degree in Graphic Design, TR Colletta became Technical Director for the Charles Burchfield Center in Buffalo where he designed exhibits, brochures, and promotional material. In 1975, for the Longin Studio in Niagara Falls, NY, he became a professional photographer. TR Colletta devoted himself to painting full time after moving to Connecticut in 1978.

Thus far the artist’s time at the easel was entirely self-taught. His canvases almost exclusively depicted historic, urban landscapes - aptly titled by one critic: “pictorial time machines.” Gallery representation brought illustration commissions from publishing firms in Boston and New York. Meanwhile, he sang with the professional chorus, CONCORA, and accepted the position of Organist and Music Director for Saint Mary’s Roman Catholic Church in New Britain, CT.

His continuing passion for painting prompted several trips to Europe and exposure to masterpieces of Western Art and Architecture. His use of color became stronger in 1986 after a seminar with New Hampshire artist, Peter Granucci. Later, with Richard Whitney (a former pupil of R.H. Ives Gammell of the Boston School of Visual Impressionism) TR Colletta studied portraiture.

In 1992, TR Colletta’s move to San Francisco allowed his work to be exhibited in galleries and art fairs on both coasts. He joined the San Francisco Symphony Chorus with whom he is honored to share a Grammy for their 1994 recording of Brahms’ Requiem.

TR Colletta’s artistic attention turned, in 1996, to creating still life paintings focusing on 20th century American industrial objects that provided the artists a personal outlet for subtle social commentary, the gist of which he often alludes to by way of how they’re titled.

Artist's Statement

“My passion to create images on stretched linen is – like most everything - a mystery. I’ve always enjoyed making things. The metal screen that my father replaced on our back door became molded into the face of 'Moses.' My mother’s empty, wooden thread spools became little soldiers in red coats with black helmets. Wire that wrapped the newspapers for my paper route was salvaged and transformed into sculptures. Eventually, I found paint.

My work has always been representational. As with abstraction, the importance of color, composition, and application remain. These fundamentals are then pressed a step further with the incorporation of an image.

In 1996, while waiting to cross a street in San Francisco, I glanced to my side and was visually struck by a municipal, red fire alarm. Having entered college many years prior as a history major, I recognized – in that moment – subject matter that united interests and would open possibilities at the easel. My work immediately advanced beyond the historic urban landscapes that nourished my easel throughout the nineteen eighties.

Objects of the 20th Century, that populated and infused our culture became vehicles for both artistic pursuit and occasional, subtle commentary. But whether painting Grand Central Terminal or a Post Office Stamp Machine, my aim has always been to create an image that pleases the eye and delightfully entertains sensibilities. The objects themselves inform my choices of color and design, while they unite diverse experiences through universal recognition. Though style and theme ally the canvases, each one remains singular in voice.

Who knows the source of an idea? When an artist’s personal journey resonates with a viewer, mutual gratitude results. As the 19th Century British poet, John Clare wrote, 'Language has not the power to speak what love indicts, the soul lies buried in the ink that writes. So too it is with paint.'