Dean Burton Matthews, who made a memorable impression in the world of visual art, passed away Aug. 10. He was 60.
Matthews was born in Davenport, Iowa, and grew up in Genoa, Ill., son of Frank and Georgia Belle ( Burton ) Matthews. He leaves behind two beloved god children, Zoe Olivia Engling and Stephen Serrano. The list of his dear friends is too lengthy to mention, but includes a diaspora that crosses the continent and the British Isles.
He graduated from Genoa Kingston High School in 1967, attended Albion College in Michigan ( hated it ) , Chicago Academy of the Fine Arts ( from which he earned a two-year certificate in industrial design in 1970 ) , and studied theatre at Northern Illinois University.
Matthews, one of the undiscovered gems of the Chicago art world, leaves a rich legacy of creativity and love. Never one for self-promotion, Dean created a huge oeuvre of visual art, never having sought the acclaim the work deserved. Moving from early pen and ink pieces astounding in their capture of human emotion in a comic style to his final large and small abstract collages, he created brilliant art the way most people breathe and eat: simply as a matter of course. He was part of no movement, co-op or collective, he subscribed to no -isms; he merely expressed his own eccentric vision. Along the way, he invented an alphabet to include his writings in his work, provided hundreds of museum-worthy illustrations for Student Lawyer magazine, the Chicago Tribune and World Book Encyclopedia, and left a 17-volume journal of writings, drawings and multimedia collage, of which many pages are small masterpieces.
Early in his life, Dean was an actor who helped to establish one of the cornerstones of the contemporary Chicago theatre scene: Theatre Building Chicago at 1225 W. Belmont. Dean was a company member with the Luther Burbank Dingleberry Festival, a name later shortened to Dinglefest, which converted the building from a warehouse to its current state as a three-theatre venue that has hosted some of the most memorable productions Chicago has seen over the past three decades. Dean performed in the first show to ever grace the venue: Cap Streeter, an original production created by Dean and his ensemble mates. During these years, audiences and reviewers delighted in his quirky comic presence, most notably as the title character in the Jeff award winning Tom Swift and His…, a performance for which one reviewer memorably called him a "rubber faced sap."
An only child who recognized his gay identity early, Matthews never married or fathered children, but he formed deep friendships with many who considered him the very best of friends. An accepting confidant, a delightful companion with a gentle wit and seemingly bottomless knowledge of cheesy popular culture, he created a family of friends. He was a man who inspired such affection that when he became stricken with cancer, a wide circle of friends rushed in to give him the support and aid one usually expects from immediate family. In that, Matthews found his final, fatal disease to be something of a blessing. He discovered the depth of his friendships to be more profound than even he had suspected.
Matthews' depth of talent remains largely uncelebrated outside of his circle of beloved friends. His collected works remain undiscovered treasures. He leaves this world much too early, but confessed himself to be satisfied with his life.
Matthews' ashes will be scattered at Theatre Building Chicago, 1225 W. Belmont, at 3:30 p.m. Saturday, Oct. 24, followed at 5 p.m. by a memorial celebration at the People's Music School, where Dean worked for many years, at 931 W. Eastwood. Call 847-847-1759 for information; an RSVP is requested.