‘Still Kickin’’

Catching up with Happy the Artist

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“Everyone in Richmond and beyond has been asking what happened to Happy The Artist!” exclaimed the announcement that arrived via email several weeks ago. “Happy the Artist wants everyone to know that he is still alive and kicking and is enjoying his golden years living on a beautiful farm in Charlottesville, Virginia.”

Happy was also, according to the email, participating in a five-person exhibition entitled “Time Through People” at The Russell Museum in Waynesboro. His part of the show is called “Still Kickin’ (Since 1942),” on view through June, and includes watercolors of “heads, faces and events encountered in the last 12 months,” according to the handmade sign that accompanied the note.

I’ve encountered John Patrick Kuhn, aka Happy, numerous times through the years. We’ve bonded over our preferences for headgarb. Somewhere, there’s a video of us taken while he was painting a mural for an emergency vet in Carytown; he put my hat-wearing self in the piece. One of the remaining outdoor examples of Happy’s Richmond work is mobile: The Farmbus.

Happy received mentions in Richmond magazine’s Best & Worst issues over the years for his wildly decorated car, his hats and, yes, his work, which included murals for restaurants, hospitals, day care centers and private homes. In 2016, I delved into aspects of his origin story when he was almost 75.

The invitation to see Happy, now in his early 80s, quite alive and personable, and an exhibition of his latest work was too intriguing to pass up, even if I had to head to the Shenandoah Valley to connect with the former Richmonder.

The Russell Museum is in Waynesboro’s lovely downtown and arts district. The site is operated by a 77-year-old nonprofit that honors the life and legacy of the artist, writer and spiritualist Walter Russell and his wife, Lao. Together they founded the University of Science and Philosophy at Swannanoa, seeking to develop a world cultural center and displaying the results of their various creative endeavors. James and Sallie May Dooley — known in Richmond for their Maymont estate, which became the eponymous park — made the palatial mansion their summer place.

The museum occupies a large building that was previously a furniture store and then a Porsche dealership. Spotting Happy’s fancifully adorned station wagon parked out front almost made me overshoot a parking space.

In the lobby, I was confronted by statuary and vitrines containing letters, photographs and other materials pertaining to the Russells. I followed Happy-made signage and the burble of voices upstairs, past a lecture space and a table full of opening-day food and drink.

Then, in a central gallery: a wall of Happy art, resting on shelves, and the man himself, entertaining admirers. Happy made effusive greetings and plucked from the row a portrait he’d made of me, although we’d not seen each other in a long while. “I did it off a picture I found of you somewhere,” he explained. 

Happy dismissed offers for payment as others picked up pieces. “It’ll just go into my gas tank,” he told one. He related how when his father, the artist Robert E. Kuhn, died in July 2000, he left behind a stack of paintings and 115 sculptures. The responsibility for dispersing the work into caring hands fell to the family.

“Now what’s its value?” Happy asked rhetorically. “Well, it’s only as good as the demand. He let his reputation go away. He got tired of dealing with the commercial world. He fired, got rid of his agent, who was a godsend to him in his early days, when the agents took 40%. My dad … decided, ‘I’ll sell it myself,’ and it went right downhill from there.”

Happy doesn’t want to leave a similar burden with anyone. And he’s careful to date each piece he makes. “I envision some of these things winding up in a thrift store 10 years from now,” he said. “They’ll look at the date and say, ‘Oh! 2025!’”

After leaving Richmond, Happy took up residence at his father’s Page County place, but that property was sold, so he moved to Luray. Four years ago, he was treated for what the physicians called throat cancer. Happy shrugged. “It was smoker’s nodules,” he said, attributing the ailment to occupational hazards. “I spray painted for years without a mask, so it just coated my throat. Nine weeks of radiation, and now I’m all better.” He confided that he doesn’t take medication for anything. He smokes, but never a full American Spirit cigarette; he claims it’s practically medicinal, and he’ll take a week to go through a pack.

Rather than drive back and forth from Luray to the hospital, Happy moved into an Airbnb at Roslyn Farm and Vineyard in Charlottesville. “So, I settled there and haven’t left,” he said. The owners, in their mid-30s, are now the parents of three. “I’ve been there since [the children] were born,” Happy said. “It’s a gorgeous place. There’s horses, cattle and deer. It’s paradise. Why would I go anywhere else?”

Happy discovered The Russell Museum via an open house last September. The museum regularly hosts speakers, music, poetry and art. “So, I met a lot of people and did a lot of drawings,” he described. “Between here and the White Lotus spa in Stanardsville, I’m meeting people who are in my frequency, people in their late 60s and 70s. I’m one of the oldest ones. It’s just been a wonderful way to grow into a retired artist by meeting these people. The frenzy of trying to make a living, of painting murals and signs and all, is behind me.”

But artists never really retire, as attested by the rows of exuberant portraits and cartoons in the gallery. Making art, among those in it for the long haul, is a compulsion.

Happy showed two placards bearing a colorful analysis of the word “happy.” It reads, “A word of both superficial and complex meanings. Used for birthdays and holidays — it implies smiles, laffture, joy and cake (maybe) Happy is a wonderful frequency with a limited life span — and then there is Happiness which has permanence, as in being LOVED.”

At the March 29 opening of his exhibition in Waynesboro, John Patrick “Happy the Artist” Kuhn appeared reasonably hale, although he was using a cane festooned with a pink boa and indicated a hearing challenge with a sign around his neck asking, “Louder Please!”

A few days later, however, Happy suffered at least two strokes and lost function in his left leg. He was admitted to the University Medical Center and then transferred to UVA Encompass Health Rehabilitation Hospital. According to his friend Mollee McWhorter, Happy’s spirits are high, and he’s eating well. “The nurses love him, of course, and he’s ready for rehab.”