The rare Frank in its natural setting
In a way, there’s not much to say about Frank Rose. There are a number of nuances and quirks to his mannerisms and demeanor that can only be appreciated by being around him in person. He was certainly the most calm person I’ve known. He had a perpetually positive personality, and I can’t recall a conversation involving him in which he was not smiling a majority of the time. I also can’t really recall him without a cup of tea in his hand at all times.
He was like a well-traveled, quiet philosophy professor. Or yoga instructor. I don’t know anyone else who’s actually driven a car to Alaska. I first got to know him due to his being in the small group of photography majors accepted into the Block program in Fall of 2003. He produced some interesting self portrait work, as well as some more elemental-focused material. People would go to him to have mature conversations. Seeing as my other social circles at the time were the anime club and fencing club, that was kind of a big change of pace for me.
Prior to our graduation in Spring 2005 he took up curating at a small gallery that shared space with a hair salon. More recently, he became owner and publisher of ArtHouston Magazine. One of the last things I told him during our final critique was that if he ever found the end of the world, he’d have to send me a postcard. His response was simply that I’d have to keep him up-to-date with my address.