Remembering Jonathan Casey
by :
Ryan Arthurs
Published in May, 2020 in the early days of the Coronavirus Pandemic. Issue 3 of Cornelia was virtual only.
Ryan Arthurs,Onward And Upward, 2020. Courtesy of the artist.
Like so many in these unsettling times, I’ve been thinking a lot about what’s left behind when we die.
My work as an artist and photographer often incorporates found objects that create real, material bridges to other people’s private lives: old discarded photographs, military service items, rusty things from another time. Now, with so much of our lives lived digitally, what we leave behind is more immaterial yet frequently much more public, hidden in plain sight in browsing histories and on social media platforms. But what about all those text messages? Those casual, daily exchanges sent to the pockets of friends and family. Do they last longer than the phones that currently store them? Are they worth saving like the handwritten correspondence of the past? Do we leave something of ourselves in them?
I’ve been reflecting on these questions the past few weeks as I revisit text messages between myself and the artist and designer Jonathan Casey. Jonathan passed away on April 1, 2020—a cruel joke—and I’m very much still processing the weight of this loss and struggling to believe it. Jonathan touched many lives and is beloved by many. There have been a number of articles and tributes written about Jonathan, and I am linking to those so that you can read more about his life and his personal and professional accomplishments.
I’m not exactly sure when I first met Jonathan. I’m guessing it was at an exhibition reception, possibly at Emily Tucker’s Benjaman Gallery. But it might just as easily have been at Buffalo Pride. What I do remember is that Jonathan quickly went from being a complete stranger to someone with whom I traded text messages daily. He had a way of making friends that I envy. It just seemed to come naturally, but I recognize that extending friendship, true friendship, isn’t effortless. It comes with a certain vulnerability, a willingness to invite others in and not keep them at a distance, to share things about yourself, the hard and honest truths.
I think Jonathan and I quickly recognized something in each other in that first brief meeting. For us, it was that we were both gay, we were both artists, we shared a love of design, and we were both proud to be from and of Buffalo. With time we shared our coming-out experiences, which included our early experimentation with drugs as a form of self-discovery and as a means of self-medication.
Ryan Arthurs. Plug That Big Gaping Hole And I'm Not Talking About Your Mouth, 2020. Courtesy of the artist.
Jonathan was very open about his history with drugs, his status as an HIV-positive gay man, and the trauma he experienced in his life. He also wrote beautifully about those experiences on the site Medium. His writings “Where the Art Began” and “The Self Sabotage of Being Gay” are chapters from his in-progress autobiography, Re-Purposed: An Unlikely Redemption Story. I encourage you to read them because Jonathan writes so eloquently about the mix of emotions around coming out: the shame, the internalized homophobia, and the path to finding acceptance. The writing is direct, yet poetic; raw, yet refined. It’s a wonderful reflection of his openness, of his power of being strong by being vulnerable.
Ryan Arthurs, Oh Shit…Watch Out Boys, 2020. Courtesy of the artist.
Jonathan’s friendship extended beyond the people he knew. He wasn’t content just having his own friends, he wanted his friends to know his other friends. Each connection expanded a creative network of like-minded individuals. I can’t count the number of artists, educators, curators, designers, and developers to whom Jonathan introduced me in Buffalo and online. Even my primary care doctor was recommended to me by Jonathan. Connecting people was an extension of his artistic practice. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and he shared it with everyone he met.
So how does one begin to pay tribute to someone as energetic, complicated, multitalented, and enigmatic as Jonathan Casey? I’ve decided to share a brief window into my relationship with Jonathan via all those text messages that I’m so thankful to have right now. Texts like "Twerk bitch!$", "Hey heffer" and “Omg, let’s have 6-packs by spring” make me burst into laughter and now bring a tear to my eye. Jonathan had an amazing sense of humor, a beautiful combination of wit, snark, and shade all combined with love and affection.
I have been translating some of Jonathan's more entertaining text messages into artworks. I’m sharing these texts in the hope that others will see something from our history of conversations and humor mirrored in their own. I think Jonathan would love the idea of taking something private and making it public, of taking something fleeting and extending its lifespan.
Ryan Arthurs, Twerk Bitches, 2020. Courtesy of the artist.
Ryan Arthurs, OMG Let's Have Six Packs By Spring, 2020. Courtesy of the artist.
Covid has made it particularly challenging to honor Jonathan’s legacy. Jonathan embodied community and celebrating his life in isolation is antithetical to what he represented. I know there are plans being made to honor him, his sculptural work, and the connections he made between people. Until then, I encourage you to find a way to initiate a gesture of compassion in the spirit of Jonathan. Introduce someone to a friend, send someone a letter, postcard, or care package. Support the arts, be it an individual artist or a nonprofit organization in Western New York. Jonathan benefitted from this kind of support, and I know he’d appreciate it being passed forward.
Or, even more simply, just send a text message to a friend, out of the blue, and express your love. Who knows, they might even save it and turn it into a pillow one day.
“Onward and upward” - Jonathan Casey sent via text message.
Ryan Arthurs, Oh Lord It's Like The Longest Goodbye Ever, 2020. Courtesy of the artist.
Ryan Arthurs is a visual artist who lives in Buffalo, New York. He received his M.F.A. in Photography from Massachusetts College of Art and Design in 2012 and a B.A. in Studio Art from Carleton College in 2005.
