The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Sunday, July 9, 1995                   TAG: 9507080085
SECTION: DAILY BREAK              PAGE: E8   EDITION: FINAL 
SOURCE: BY TERESA ANNAS, STAFF WRITER 
                                             LENGTH: Medium:   93 lines

NEWPORT NEWS FOLK ARTIST AT HOME WITH NEW VENUE

ON SUNDAYS at noon, the doors open wide on Anderson Johnson's Faith Mission, at the bedraggled southern tip of Newport News.

In between preaching the gospel, the semi-famous folk artist - whose art goes on view today at The Newsome House in Newport News - sings hymns and his own sacred songs with sweet abandon. He accompanies himself on Hawaiian guitar.

``I usually have two or three people. Ain't no crowd or nothing,'' said Johnson last week, seated in the living room of his home, where he holds his services.

``Anybody's welcome to come. If nobody come, I'll stay 'til 2 or so. I pray, and then I dismiss.''

Johnson looked around the first floor of his house, acknowledging how every square inch of wall space was covered with hundreds of painted panels. These are Johnson's paintings, many of them straight-on portraits of big-eyed women with flip hairdos.

``See, my artwork's my people in here all the time. And I enjoy them all the time,'' he said, grinning.

``If I get lonely, I'll just come in here and play my Hawaiian guitar. And I feels better.''

If Johnson has a modest real-life congregation, fans for his folk art could easily fill a large hall. In recent years, he's been sought out by journalists, scholars and collectors worldwide, from Alaska to London. He also is sought out by fans of his gospel music, which he recorded for a small Miami label in the 1950s; a recent issue of Juke Blues magazine featured him.

A show of his artwork opens today from 2 to 4 p.m. at The Newsome House Museum & Cultural Center. Though the center is no more than six blocks from his home, Elder Johnson said he has no plans to attend.

``I believe in these words: I am not working for man. I'm working for the Lord Jesus Christ.

``I try to get out a message through my artwork. I want the world to be a better place than it is now. I feel that God gave me a gift. But I don't get any joy following behind the gift. I enjoy doing something with the gift.

``If I go exalting myself, I will be abased.''

Johnson's 26th Street home is the second venue for his Faith Mission. His previous home, on nearby Ivy Avenue, has been the focus of a rescue mission (see story, this page).

Of his new home, he said, ``I like it fine. I still gotta get used to my neighbors. I ain't got acquainted with most of them yet.''

His first day in the place brought something different from a Welcome Wagon. ``I had a break in. They stole two lamps.''

So Johnson boarded up all the downstairs windows. Aside from Sunday services, he mostly stays upstairs, where he sleeps and paints. Sometimes he sits on the front porch, next to his new painted panels of Jesus.

On Wednesday afternoon, a cheerful Johnson sat on his porch, reading an article about himself. Though it was hot and muggy, he wore a necktie and a dress straw hat.

He said it made him sad to leave Ivy Avenue. ``But I've gotten myself together. I feel all right.''

Abandoning the murals didn't bother him, he said. ``That didn't feel like anything. No, it didn't mean anything.''

Yet he appreciates the efforts of his fans. ``I was just painting 'em up there because I didn't have no paper to paint on. And it make the house look like it's painted.

``But if they want to make something out of it, praise be to 'em!''

Deborah McLeod, the Newport News curator who helped lead the mission, said Johnson is more excited about the rescue than he lets on.

``He always wants to know the progress of it. He calls us `the board,' '' she said.

``But the effort is not so much for him and his benefit. I feel like the murals tell a story that is profound in terms of that neighborhood that he endured.''

Johnson was living in extreme poverty in a declining neighborhood. ``He turned adversity into an amazingly energetic situation,'' she said of his art-making.

As his surroundings experienced a downward spiral, Johnson did the opposite, she said. Prices for his art have risen in the last decade, from a few dollars per painting to $100 or more. It's not unusual for collectors to stop by his house and spend several hundred dollars.

``Now he supports himself on his work. He's always heading off to the bank with several checks. He just doesn't feel it's righteous for a minister to live except by the most frugal means.''

She envisions a small museum for his work that resembles a chapel, with murals from inside his old home forming the interior walls. She would like it to remain in his old neighborhood, as a point of pride for residents.

``It's more about what you choose to do with your life, no matter what the circumstances.'' ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO COURTESY OF PENINSULA FINE ARTS CENTER

Anderson Johnson is shown at his old home in Newport News, which is

scheduled for demolition.

by CNB