Thornton DialOfficial Estate Site

TD

Mr. Dial

The man, the studio, and the yard at McCalla.

Thornton Dial grinning broadly, one hand raised against the studio door frame, the other in his pocket. To the left a tall assemblage of torn and painted material stands on the floor; deeper in the shed more works are stacked against the wall. A photograph by Jerry Siegel.

Photograph by Jerry Siegel

In the family’s words

A Grandchild of Thornton Dial

Growing up we always knew that Grandaddy was special.

His hospitality and handshakes were always stretched toward a stranger. As a grandfather he had a gentle demeanor that groomed us to love one another as family, give respect to others, and to give thanks to God for everything. Every concrete conversation with him was accompanied by his charismatic character. He would often lock eyes with us, giving us long lectures about surviving the challenging lessons of life. The experiences we exercise within our kinship are more memorable and meaningful because of him. For that we will forever adore him in all his ways.

His hospitality and handshakes were always stretched toward a stranger.

Brandon Dial · Grandson

Being continuously creative in his craft he became self-evolving in his techniques to contribute more complex concepts through sculptures, paper and canvases about Black American culture. Over time we witness his iron-willed work ethic becoming the subject of wonders in the art world. As an artist, his legacy and influence are still leaning in the minds of those who will listen to his story. His internationally recognized talent remains a divine delivery from God. As a Grandchild of Thornton Dial we are grateful to have had him as our Grandaddy.

Brandon Dial
Grandson of Thornton Dial

In the family’s words

My Grandfather, Thornton Dial

My grandfather was an amazing man—not because he became an internationally renowned artist, but because of the kind of man he was long before the world knew his name.

He led with love, compassion, strength, and faith as he cared for his family and community. He fed people from his garden, gave haircuts to children whose parents could not afford them, and shared what he had even when he did not have much himself. Poverty was never his identity, and struggle was never his legacy. His legacy was family, love, faith, sacrifice, and perseverance. Although he lived through segregation and Jim Crow, he did not allow bitterness to break his spirit. Instead, those experiences flowed through his art, allowing his paintings to speak of struggle, survival, history, injustice, strength, and perseverance.

Poverty was never his identity, and struggle was never his legacy.

Chanessa Dial · Granddaughter

But for me, his greatness was much simpler. It was his smile, his laughter that could light up a room, and the way he reminded us that everything he did was for his family. Most of all, I remember the way he prayed over us when we gathered around the dinner table. I could hear and feel how deeply he pleaded with God on behalf of his family. His prayers carried his love, his faith, his hopes, and his desire for God to protect, guide, and keep us. The world may remember Thornton Dial as a great artist, but I will always remember the loving, faithful, compassionate man I was blessed to call my grandfather.

Chanessa Dial
Granddaughter of Thornton Dial

Portraits

Every photograph is credited to the photographer who made it, and cleared before it is published.

A close portrait of Thornton Dial in a dark shirt flecked with white paint, turned slightly and looking past the camera, half-smiling. The paint-spattered studio door frame fills the right of the picture. A photograph by Jerry Siegel.
Thornton Dial stands with arms folded in his yard, surrounded on all sides by his outdoor work: rusted steel frames hung with painted cloth in blue, yellow and white, lengths of wire mesh, and a tangled sphere of white-painted scrap to the right. A photograph by Jerry Siegel.
Thornton Dial stands with his arms folded at the open front of his studio shed, a paint-crusted post at his shoulder. Behind him a large blue-green assemblage leans against the wall and a work light stands on a red tripod. A photograph by Jerry Siegel.

Photograph by Jerry Siegel

Where the Art Was Created

The shop behind the house in Bessemer. He built flat on trestles, sprayed everything one colour at the end, and stood the finished work against the wall until somebody came for it.

Three large pale assemblages hang on the plywood wall of the studio -- one white and heavily encrusted, one grey and green, one yellow -- above a paint compressor and a stack of paint cans. In the foreground a blue and yellow panel lies flat on a trestle, still being worked on.
The studio wall
Three works in progress above the compressor he sprayed with, and a fourth flat on the trestles in front
A blue and gold panel lies flat on two welded metal trestles in the middle of the studio floor, with fresh material still heaped on its surface. Around it are a rusted oil drum of brushes, scattered paint cans, and a concrete floor marked with years of spill.
On the trestles
A panel built flat on welded metal legs, material still loose on its surface
Thornton Dial stands in his studio in a dark jacket and flat cap, hands at his sides, looking to one side. Behind him lean two large relief works painted entirely white and grey: a smaller one of tangled branches and cloth, and a wall-sized panel in which draped figures and long bare branches rise out of the surface.
Beside the white reliefs
Two of the large pale works, in the shed at McCalla
Thornton Dial standing in his studio, one hand on his hip and the other resting on a tall weathered piece of painted driftwood. Filling the wall behind him is a huge assemblage of torn and folded material painted blue-green, and around him the floor is stacked with more work, rolls of material and artificial flowers.

Bessemer

Where the Art Was Created

He worked thirty years at the Pullman Standard plant in Bessemer, building railcars, and made his own work in the hours around it — first in the shop behind the house, later across the yard at McCalla, where finished pieces stood out in the weather until somebody came for them. Almost everything in the museums now was assembled in one of those two places.

Photograph by Jerry Siegel