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woman in white jacket facing forward; three men in suits and two women stand behind her looking at each other.
Gil Stone, Unidentified magazine illustration, n.d.
March 24, 2025

Remembering Gil Stone

This month, as part of the SVA exhibition To Love–To Die; To Fight. To Live. Art and Activism in the Time of AIDS, artist, faculty member and SVA alumnus Peter Hristoff has curated a concurrent exhibition, Witness. The show features a collection of multidisciplinary works created by SVA community members lost to AIDS, plus pieces made in response to the epidemic.

Today, we’re celebrating the life and work of artist Gil Stone, who is featured in Witness. Stone was something of a legend at SVA. Beginning in 1963, he taught at the College for nearly twenty years and in his heyday he was an extremely sought-after magazine illustrator, producing work for clients including Esquire, Sports Illustrated, New York Magazine, and Playboy.

In 1972 he created a subway poster for SVA that was both pop and classical.
Color illustration of multiple portraits of Abe Lincoln sitting side by side, identical save for various hats and accessories.
Gil Stone, SVA Subway Poster, 1972.

Stone’s paintings were acquired by the Hirshhorn Collection and the Brooklyn Museum, and SVA mounted a retrospective of his work in 1980.
 
Black and white photo of bearded Gil Stone looking directly at the camera
 
Black and white photo of Gil Stone in his barn like studio, surrounded by artworks

Stone saw a marked delineation between his commercial work and his paintings. He said, “When I do a painting I’m solving my own problems. When I do an illustration, I’m solving problems for someone else.” (Graphis 1981-82, vol 37, issue 214)
woman with large collar with a flower across from a heart
Gil Stone, Sunday Times Magazine, June 1969.
 
Elongated figure in swimsuit and goggles walking across beach rocks
Gil Stone, Sports Illustrated, May 6, 1968.
 
Ominous image of man looking up with flower hanging over his head
Gil Stone, Modern Medicine, September 16, 1974.

Stone was born in Brooklyn in 1940. He attended the High School for Art and Design in Manhattan and Parson’s School of Design on a scholarship. He was awarded the prestigious Prix de Rome for Painting in 1965 and spent several years working out of a studio at the American Academy in Rome. Upon his return to New York, he settled with his family in Park Slope, Brooklyn. He later found a benefactor in Penthouse publisher Bob Guccione, who commissioned Stone to create a group of paintings for his vast art collection. 

The last few years of Stone’s life were marked by turmoil and tragedy. His wife received a devastating diagnosis of Muscular Dystrophy and Stone turned to heroin. Stone died from AIDS in 1984.

Today, Stone’s haunting, elongated figures and muted color palette remain singular and resonant. 
Man in jungle foliage suspended over ocean
Gil Stone, album cover for Horacee Arnold, 1973.
 
Six panels of Australian bush territory, including landscapes and a bull-like animal
Gil Stone, Sports Illustrated, April 8, 1968.
 
Three elongated figures of golfers on the right of a green, bulbous golf course landscape
Gil Stone, Sports Illustrated, November 4 1968.

In an interview early in his career, Stone set down the parameters of what he hoped to achieve with his art. “I want my work to be neither realistic nor abstract. I invite the spectator to walk into my paintings - paintings with surfaces that do not resist. I want to distill my subject matter until I am close to what I think is essential.” (Print Sept/Oct 1964)

Nearly twenty years later, he spoke with the specificity of an experienced and accomplished artist and teacher.

“Painting is a very physical experience. At the same time, it’s spiritual. I think it’s religion. Painting comes from another space. You start with an idea and a gut feeling. You’re supposed to make mistakes when you paint. Painting is a sort of thought process, but there are things you have no control over. The ability to draw and conceive technically, and perception doesn’t make great painting. The combination makes great painting. I have done beautifully painted pictures that were garbage. You can spend two years on a painting and can say, ‘it’s a nice painting. Too bad the idea is no good.’ I think my latest work is very personal, very special, extremely romantic. Erotic. I always put things in just because they look good, no profound reason. It’s nice. It belongs there. If I could hide out for another year or two and just paint, it would be really marvelous.” (Graphis)