Jeremy Penn: Seeking William Murphy, Prisoner 23826  

In July 2010, I met prisoner number 23826. His mug shot came in a package of original prison mug shots dated between 1897 and 1921.

Collectors and fans occasionally send me packages like this because they know I am inspired by the sensory experience in viewing and handling old photographs. While I flipped through the pictures, one in particular kept jumping out at me. The mug shot of prisoner number 23826. A young man named William Murphy. This image haunted me and began creeping into my creative process.

I’ve always used my collection of vintage photographs as a continuous source of inspiration, but this is the first time I felt compelled to incorporate one into my work. When William Murphy came into my life, my art and the next two years of my life would forever be altered. The image made me question fate and determine a reality through introspection.

The initial phase of “Seeking William Murphy” involved trying to understand why I became so entranced by this one image. More specifically, I was curious as to how I judged William by looking just at his mug shot and not knowing any of the back-story. Did his dapper outfit or solemn demeanor affect where my imagination drifted? Would other people have a similar experience while viewing his image?

Everyone I talk to seems to make their own connection when they see the image of Murphy. Most of the time, people think he is one of my relatives (there is definitely an aesthetic resemblance between us that I wasn’t aware of at first). Other people think that Murphy resembles someone from their own life history or collective memory. The image is endlessly fascinating. Was his demeanor a way of defiantly hiding his challenge to authority or he was he just a man who was in the wrong place at the wrong time?

A photograph is the capture of one single frame of a life. I was starting to believe that my connection to him had to do with my own insecurities surrounding first impressions and fear of judgment. And even though I only had this single frame to work with, I began “Seeking William Murphy.” This was his one chance to make an impression.

To me, Murphy looks strong and dangerous with a certain animal magnetism. As I began creating images of William Murphy in every medium possible – silkscreen, acrylic paint, papermaking, welding, oil paint, cyanotype – I contacted the National Archives of San Bruno, CA to see if they could gather information on him.

Creating the same image while exploring different mediums is a concept that looks at the effect of different media and different color groupings in an artwork – different media can make the same composition communicate completely different ideas and feelings.

In October 2010, I received a reply from the National Archives. I thought about the oversaturation of information in society and how quickly we receive it. I didn’t want to open the email right away because I didn’t want my view of William Murphy to change. I knew that details of his life would most likely disturb the strong, desirable, and confident male I judged him to be. The perfect mask I had created for myself. Not opening the email took a lot of restraint but I knew by doing so, the journey into myself would be in jeopardy.

In January 2011, after nearly four months of waiting, I finally opened the correspondence. I learned that the great earthquake that destroyed a lot of San Francisco in 1908 also destroyed a lot of public records. The investigation narrowed down two William Murphy’s alive in the Bay Area during the time of the 1914 arrest. One William Murphy died in a knife fight on a train and the other died a war hero.

Was my William the hero or the villain? Obviously, there really was no way I could decipher one William Murphy from the other. The records and information didn’t exist as far as I was concerned. So I began thinking about good vs. evil. If the prison numbers were removed from his image, how would a person’s perception or judgment of him change? Good vs. evil is one of life’s basic fluxes, like yin and yang.

After creating William Murphy’s image a few dozen times – studying his face, his prison numbers, and his wardrobe – I noticed something very obvious that had previously been overlooked. Murphy had a very intense case of sanpaku eyes. Sanpaku, meaning “three whites” in Japanese (“san”=three, “paku”=white), describes a condition of the eyes in which when a person is looking straight ahead, there are “three white” parts visible on the sides and below the iris.

This anomaly is considered a sign of extreme fatigue that makes one accident-prone and slow to react. In ancient Japan, Samurai warriors were trained to watch for this feature to assist in determining how formidable an enemy would be in hand-to-hand combat.

For “normal eyes,” the white of the eyes are only visible on two sides of the iris. This is the general healthy condition for anyone from birth to old age. On the other hand, “sanpaku eyes” is abnormal for anyone younger than 90 years old and indicates an extremely unhealthy condition or possible premature death.
A few noteworthy personalities who had sanpaku include: John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy, Marilyn Monroe, Elvis, Natalie Wood, Sharon Tate, John Lennon, Abraham Lincoln, Princess Diana, Syd Barrett, Brittany Murphy, and Heath Ledger – all individuals who died either young or tragically.
Looking at the prison mug shot of William Murphy, sanpaku could be the cause for a man who died in battle or the one who died in a knife fight on a train. Perhaps we can assume that most everyone is somewhat sanpaku or “near” sanpaku and with just a little bit of difference in circumstances, we can all be pushed over into the abyss.
During my two years with William Murphy, I was inspired to explore the tools of positive and negative space and the principle of repetition. I never had any expectations or final goals in mind for this journey. If there was one thing I learned, it was that this project was going to evolve and that the judgment of William Murphy is not mine. It’s in the eye of the beholder.

The cerebral experience of the simpatico relationship that I built with William choreographed the variable – the method of production. But the one thing that remained constant was the prison mug shot, an image that will forever be burned into my memory.

ARTIST’S STATEMENT

“Most of my work is about the seductive power play between the subject and the viewer,” explains New York City-based artist, Jeremy Penn. “It has to do with the gaze. I believe eyes are the gateway to the soul. If you look through my work, you will see that some of my portraits don’t look you in the eye.”

Penn’s subjects are predominantly sad – contemplating something – with a sense of insecurity. In William’s mug shot, there is a sense of power that will lock your eyes. “It almost goes back to dominance versus submissiveness – like in the animal kingdom,” Penn says citing “Mona Lisa” as an example.