After returning to the U.S., Dick and Marty did their graduate studies for two years at University of California-Berkeley. He explored engineering while she earned her education in social work. For nearly 20 years, Dick worked as an electrical engineer at Tektronix, Inc., in Portland, Ore. To pass the time in long meetings, he admits that he turned his attention to sketching items in the room, such as an ashtray or his free hand. But it wasn't until much later that he made his first artistic drawing outside of work: a pencil sketch of a woven basket filled with travel brochures. In fact, the former engineer says he didn't fully discover his drawing and painting abilities until he and Marty were retired and living in Australia, and later in New Zealand, when a group of amateur artists introduced him to oil paint. While living in England, Dick took community college classes in landscape and portrait painting, and when he moved back to Portland he enrolled in an acrylics painting class at the Oregon School of Arts and Crafts. Still not satisfied with his skills and wanting to learn the old, classical techniques and tools of the trade, Dick enrolled as a full-time student at the Florence Academy of Art and later at the Charles Cecil Studios, both in Florence, Italy. Between the two schools, he studied the art, frescoes and murals of Florence, and learned to draw the human figure, to draw from sculpture casts, and to paint portraits and the human figure in a classical pre-Impressionist style. And while he was in art school, Marty enrolled in Florence's Le Cordon Bleu cooking school and performed some ad hoc cooking jobs with area chefs.
Dick and Marty Lemke met and became close during a two-year teaching stint in a pre-Peace Corps program in Tanzania
ART & THE FAMILY
According to 2006-08 estimates by the American Communities Survey, 23 percent of Pacific County residents are of retirement age. And while each person's vision of retirement can span from spending time with the grandkids or just playing a few more rounds of golf, Ocean Park residents Dick and Marty Lemke are living their golden years as uniquely as they were the day they met 49 years ago.
The pair met and became close during a two-year teaching stint in a pre-Peace Corps program in East Africa, specifically the areas of Uganda, Kenya and Tanzania. Looking back, Marty flashes a smile and says, "It kind of was a pre-destined kind of thing."
After returning to the U.S., Dick and Marty did their graduate studies for two years at University of California-Berkeley. He explored engineering while she earned her education in social work.
For nearly 20 years, Dick worked as an electrical engineer at Tektronix, Inc., in Portland, Ore. To pass the time in long meetings, he admits that he turned his attention to sketching items in the room, such as an ashtray or his free hand. But it wasn't until much later that he made his first artistic drawing outside of work: a pencil sketch of a woven basket filled with travel brochures.
In fact, the former engineer says he didn't fully discover his drawing and painting abilities until he and Marty were retired and living in Australia, and later in New Zealand, when a group of amateur artists introduced him to oil paint. While living in England, Dick took community college classes in landscape and portrait painting, and when he moved back to Portland he enrolled in an acrylics painting class at the Oregon School of Arts and Crafts.
Still not satisfied with his skills and wanting to learn the old, classical techniques and tools of the trade, Dick enrolled as a full-time student at the Florence Academy of Art and later at the Charles Cecil Studios, both in Florence, Italy. Between the two schools, he studied the art, frescoes and murals of Florence, and learned to draw the human figure, to draw from sculpture casts, and to paint portraits and the human figure in a classical pre-Impressionist style. And while he was in art school, Marty enrolled in Florence's Le Cordon Bleu cooking school and performed some ad hoc cooking jobs with area chefs.
Eventually, life led them to the Peninsula, where they designed and built a home among the dune grass, complete with three studios to incorporate their passions into daily life.
As a result of his rigorous training, Dick has made and sold still-lifes, landscapes and nudes, and has been commissioned for numerous portraits. Much of his work is stored in one of their home studios, a workspace and makeshift gallery for Dick's breathtaking oil paintings.
Dick says his goal is to capture a bit of his subjects' personalities in his portraits, because "a portrait captures more than a photo will." And not only is he successful in capturing each individual's essence, he also remembers the stories of each of his portrait subjects, such as Olga, a dark haired nude woman with glowing skin who wanted to be a famous jewelry designer. Lorenzo - a young man with piercing eyes, long, dark wavy hair and a goatee - was in a band and worked as a disc jockey.
He's painted well over 100 still lifes, many of which he's given a nostalgic feel. His appropriately titled piece, "Elvis," appears to be a snapshot of a teenage girl's room. A vintage radio, vinyl record, glass Coca Cola bottle and an opened roll of Lifesavers rest on top of a bureau, with a poster of Elvis Presley and a dried flower pinned to the wall in the background. "Dry Throat" is reminiscent of the hours following a late night jazz performance: a vintage radio, trumpet, a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey, a shot glass, a few folded bills and some loose change arranged on a bedside table which one might find in any ho-hum motel room. (These and other samples of his work can be appreciated on his Web site, www.lemkestudios.com).
Due to the economic downturn, Lemke feels that the art market has slowed down, and as a result, he hasn't been painting as often as before.
"It's nice to sell," he beams. "If someone spends their own hard earned money on a painting, it's an affirmation that they really like my work, that my work is good."
With today's public generally too busy to schedule sittings, Dick's portraits often start with photos, which are followed by a preliminary sketch. The average painting takes weeks to complete from start to finish. And due to the long period of time it takes for oil paint to dry, he is able to dedicate any extra time to amateur radio - an interest that also has a dedicated space in his studio.
Since their paths met nearly halfway across the world, it's no secret that the Lemkes both enjoy leaving their comfort zones and seeing the globe, but Marty admits, "I'm more of a footloose traveler." As Dick occupies his time with art, Marty volunteers her time to help others.
An international volunteer, Marty has led 30 teams for Global Volunteers, a non-profit organization that sends people on "volunteer vacations" to 100 communities in 19 different countries. Participants are sent to all corners of the world, where they work with and care for at-risk children, teach, build and repair buildings, provide healthcare and more. Volunteers can stay as little as one week or as long as 24 weeks.
Marty says she likes Global Volunteers because it allows her to be immersed in the daily life of her host community. After all, she says, "Making more friends in the world means less war."
Having traveled to Ireland, Poland, Mexico, Ecuador and China, some of her duties have included taking care of children, teaching English, and helping to establish daycare centers.
Just recently the couple went on a true vacation for a little over three weeks in the Cook Islands, a 15-island tropical destination south of Hawaii, east of Fiji and west of Tahiti.
"It's a great place to go in the winter, when we're tired of being cold, getting blown around and wet," Dick admits. She's traveled to the Cook Islands seven times; he's been there five times.
After the initial three-week vacation, Dick chose to stay two additional weeks so that he could explore the northern Cook Islands and work on his amateur radio. He estimates the northern islands have a very small population, around 300 residents, which means it's a rare occasion whenever someone makes a ham radio contact there.
Dick developed an interest in amateur radio back in 2003 when he was looking for a project that could challenge his inner engineer. He says what he enjoys most about ham radio is putting his equipment to the test and seeing how far he can make contact with another operator.
During the first three weeks, in the southern islands, he made contact with 3,000-plus people around the world - Afghanistan, Iraq, Israel, Greece, Scandinavia, Russia, Scotland, Ireland, France, Korea, Japan, Taiwan, New Zealand, Tahiti, Argentina, Brazil, Mexico, Costa Rica and "everywhere but India." During the fourth and fifth weeks, he spent eight hours a day on the air, contacting more than 7,000 hams. All 10,000 contacts were recorded on special computer software, which logged the dates, call signs, and frequencies.
And when he wasn't on the air, Dick took rides around the island on a motorbike, chatted up the locals, sat in on church services, explored lagoons, dined on local cuisine, snorkeled to see coral and fish, and had a picnic on an uninhabited island. He even witnessed two hurricanes' torrential winds and rain brush past.
Upon his return home, approximately 400 pieces of mail were waiting for his reply - and more were headed his way. QSL cards - unique postcards confirming each contact and his or her call number and location - from far and wide had arrived to verify Dick's communication over the airwaves. Since returning from the Cook Islands, he estimates that he has mailed out over 1,000 of his own QSL codes in reply, but he receives two or three additional cards in the mail each day.
In addition to taking his equipment on adventures, Dick says he also appreciates the public service aspect of amateur radio, such as tsunami siren testing, emergency exercises, and switching to battery power to communicate with outside areas when storms roll in and the electricity and phone lines are out. As a member of the Pacific County Amateur Radio Club, he also helps with the Grassroots Garbage Gang beach clean ups and participates in a North American field day each June where hams set up their equipment in the field to see how many contacts can be made in a certain amount of time.
"It's a fun way to be part of the community - if it was so isolated, it wouldn't be as compelling," Dick says about amateur radio. "It's a great outlet, I like designing and creating - whether with oil paint or a soldering iron."
When she's not traveling the world, Marty is often found in her oceanfront studio at the Lemke home. It's there that she sits at her loom, pushing pedals with her feet as she using specific sequences to transform colorful strings into beautiful, one of a kind towels, placemats, baby blankets, shawls and scarves. A member of the Clatsop Weavers and Spinners Guild, Marty says she prefers to use natural fibers, such as soy silk and bamboo, to weave her pieces.
Her studio also features her collection of Jane Austen books - and a Jane Austen action figure. In fact, her love of literature eventually led to another volunteer position; Marty serves as the president of the Timberland Regional Library Foundation.
Prior to her retirement, Marty worked in the psychiatric and aging fields. While living in Portland, she acted as the state nursing home ombudsman, did hospice work, and later held a lead position for the Fred Meyer Memorial Trust for nearly 10 years,
Having obtained certification through Le Cordon Bleu, Marty now likes to use organic produce and local seafood to cook Mediterranean dishes in their spacious kitchen - the third "studio" in the Lemke home.
As for what's next for the couple, she says their future includes the birth of their grandchild, which will of course be the lucky recipient of one of grandma's made-from-the-heart baby blankets. The truth be told, grass won't be growing under their feet any time soon - in 2011, Dick and Marty have plans to travel back to East Africa to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary.
When it comes to the Lemkes and retirees like them, Abe Lemons certainly knew what he was talking about.
