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On the fourth floor of the Center for the Arts, at the end of a sunlit hallway, exists a small studio.
The walls are lined with completed pieces of self-expression, some knee-high, others rising above visitors' heads. The floor is stained with paint that missed its mark. The paintbrushes, handles covered with chipped paint, gather in used coffee cans. On the ledge of the sole window overlooking Osler Drive sit crude, yet paradoxically refined sculptures. Underneath, photographs are plastered: digital self-portraits of the studio's main resident.
It is here that Dan Keplinger, artist and Master of Fine Arts thesis candidate creates. It is here that serves as a reminder of the triumph of the human spirit.
Keplinger was born with athetoid cerebral palsy. Though he requires a wheelchair and paints with a headstick, Keplinger is the typical 30-something artist who's dealt with his fair share of bullshit in this cruel world.
Funny. Sarcastic. Focused. Dedicated. Keplinger paints because it was what he was born to do and his painting has brought him Baltimore notoriety and Oscar gold. When Keplinger was 12 years old, filmmakers Susan Hannah Hadary and William A. Whiteford began documenting Keplinger's life. After filming for 13 years, the footage became the 1999 documentary "King Gimp," written by Keplinger himself and winner of the Academy Award for best documentary, short subject, at the 2000 awards ceremony.
Following Keplinger from his struggles to adapt to his mainstreaming at Parkville High School to his years at then Towson State University, the film depicts the conception and growth of an artist. As he struggles to function in everyday life, Keplinger relies on art as a method to express himself. Throughout, Keplinger voices his frustration with the lack of respect he received because of his disability. However, he never let it dissuade him.
"I didn't think much about it because to me my disability is only a part of my personality," he said.
Keplinger received awards at area art shows for his work, but things escalated the night that Hadary and Whiteford made their way across the stage of the Shrine Auditorium to collect their statues. As the cameras focused in on Keplinger and his undeniable sense of achievement, "King Gimp," Keplinger was unveiled before the world. Overnight, he was transformed from hometown boy to national celebrity.
After that, it was impossible not to see Keplinger somewhere. He was featured in a Cingular commercial during the 2001 Super Bowl, where his hometown Ravens defeated the New York Giants. He even got to go to the game, which he called an awesome experience "except we sat with people from New York," he said jokingly.
The newfound fame also brought new attention.
"It was weird because people before the documentary, people looked at me because of my disability. After I became known, was it because of my disability or because of the fame?"
But he doesn't neglect to acknowledge that the fame has had its benefits.
"It was awesome. It gave me a boost into my art career," Keplinger said. "I never stopped painting. And like for about three years my work was selling like crazy."
Yet things would change again for Keplinger and the entire art community that September, following the terrorist attacks in New York City and Washington, D.C. Keplinger said the entire art world was down, and to this day remains very stagnant.
"Most of the galleries closed and you can see I keep pushing myself," Keplinger said.
And it's Keplinger's perseverance that has led him to where he is now. Last Wednesday before the opening reception of his MFA thesis exhibition Keplinger arrived at the Center for the Arts with his girlfriend, Dena Williams. An entourage gathered to help with the installation of the exhibit. Keplinger instructed them as to which pieces were to be included in the exhibit and which ones should be left behind in the studio.
Noticeably older looking than he was in the documentary, with a few more creases in his forehead and a receding hairline, Keplinger still carried an aura of fortitude and resilience about him. The walls were bare in the Holtzman MFA Gallery, but by the end of Wednesday they would be adorned with the colorful works of an artistic phenomenon.
Though there is a striking difference in composition among the pieces of the exhibit, one theme remains constant: his wheelchair.
"I didn't start the work with the chair until I came to Towson for my masters," Keplinger said. "I would always do portraits and I kept thinking: 'What is a portrait. Is it only the face or something to represent you?' And I also started to think how other people see me. Do they see the person of the disability?"
For all of the fame and recognition Keplinger has been privy to, he refuses to let it go to his head. At his insistence, he is just Dan, rather than the self-attributed "King Gimp." He paints what he sees, what he's feeling, what he's emoting.
"Every time I have a critique, people ask 'Who are you looking at?' And I'm like 'I don't know!'" he exclaimed.
Williams sat near him as he spoke, listening and repeating each word, making sure his message wasn't misinterpreted.
The fame, the celebrity, even the 4.0 grade point average: all are secondary factors to Keplinger.
"To top it off, I have a beautiful girlfriend," Keplinger said.
For Williams, dating Keplinger for the last four years has been quite an experience.
"Being amongst him, the fame in itself is pretty intense," she said. "We'll be in Montana, we'll be in the mountains of Chile and people will recognize him, which is pretty extraordinary. The way people ignite to him, it's just a beautiful thing. Magic's around when he's present."
The following evening it was nearly impossible to not feel the magic that Williams spoke of as the visitors of family, friends, curious students and proud faculty members made their way throughout the bright room. Keplinger moved around the gallery, accepting numerous congratulatory hugs, kisses and handshakes to the backdrop of his illuminated work set against the incandescent white walls. Outside, a harpist was playing as Williams offered hugs to whoever approached.
"He's so cute!" she proudly squealed about Keplinger.
Later Thursday night, the two announced their engagement at dinner at VIN, in downtown Towson.
After he receives his masters, Keplinger and Williams plan to open a non-profit gallery for people with disabilities where they can come create art and be part of a community.
For now, Keplinger sits in the Holtzman MFA Gallery surrounded by his work, holding court for his admirers.
The King has come home.
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The MFA thesis exhibition "Dan Keplinger: In Whose Words?" is open now, through Oct. 27. Gallery hours are Tuesday-Saturday, 11 a.m.-4 p.m. Admission is free.
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