My life of photography

Hi, my name is Janet Cooper, and I am doing this fundraiser for a very special friend of mine, Richard Heinze, to raise funds to help him recover in what he lost last night.

 

He was getting ready for his once a year Prairie Village Art Fair. He loaded up his trailer, which was parked behind his residence and hooked up to his SUV, full of his beautifully framed photography of different places he’s traveled in the United States over many years. It also had his tent with all of his display panels in there as well. With the weather saying that we might get storms, he moved his trailer to a close by parking garage in the Country Club Plaza, and woke up this morning to hook his trailer up to his car to go to the art fair and it was not in the garage, someone had stolen it and everything in it. His story is very heartfelt because these photographs meant a lot to him, people he’s met along the way in his travels and many many stories about their lives, and these same places they had also been.

 

We are asking you for your help and whatever you can give to help him recover what he’s lost. His story will be on the news June 10 in the evening Fox4 News. Please, think of how you would feel, and help, please. Anything you can give is greatly appreciated.

 

Thank you,

 

Janet Cooper

 

Here is Richard’s story: Hello, my name is Richard Heinze and I am an artist in photography. My work primarily features the beauty of landscapes on the wide-open fields of Western Kansas and High Plains of Eastern Colorado. Photography is absolutely my heart and soul. I do all the work, starting with shooting on film and printing what was taken in the camera without alteration. Today, as I write this, I should be setting up for the Prairie Village Art Fair in Prairie Village, Kansas. But overnight, my white fairly new 5 x 8 box trailer was stolen from a parking garage. It was completely packed and ready for the show today so everything was in it. My Craft Hut tent, set of 12 Pro Panels, track lighting, hardware and treasured Hollywood artists chair. And almost all the artwork I’ve been working on for months and plan to displayed for sale at the show. 20 large, boxed frame pieces and approximately 80 smaller matted pieces. All told about $18,000 worth and countless hours of pain staking detailed, careful, loving work vanished overnight. Cost wise, with the trailer, equipment and all artwork about a $28,000 loss. My livelihood is gone and I have no way of recouping the cost. The loss of my trailer, show equipment and work plus losing the chance to exhibit and sell work at the show. It’s an important and very good show that I was counting on and much-needed revenue. I have no way right now to replace what has been lost, rebuild my inventory, or recoup the loss sales of a good show. If the empty trailer alone would have been stolen, I would be hopping mad. Losing all that finished work that I was all set to proudly show though is more than about money. It is about the experience of connecting with others in a way that is almost indescribable. Before I started doing shows almost 20 years ago, I could never have predicted the wonderful conversations I would be privileged to have with visitors to my booth. Hearing their connection to a particular piece, reminding them of the place they grew up, where their grandparents had a farm, where the family still owns land and they haven’t visited in a long time, somewhere they vacationed, lived, want to go someday. This to me is the essence of art – a connection between the artist and observer, talking about a place, a time, a feeling – evoked by a work they like. When someone selects something to take home, they are joyful and excited. It’s a thrill for me every time to tell them a little about it and hear why they like it. This experience at a show is worth more to me than all the sales I could hope to make. That is what the thieves deprived me and the patrons of when they took my trailer in the dead of night. They thought they were just stealing a trailer, but they stole some of my heart and soul with it. They stole the chance for connection and joy and fulfillment. If it would matter,  I wish I could tell them so.

 

Thank you,

Richard Heinze