Carol Hampton

"She was the nonpareil of artistic taste, social decorum, civic patronage and devotion to family. But beneath Carol Hampton's enduring public image was someone more complex, passionate and accomplished in unheralded ways."

She had another side beyond the public face as the wife of John Hampton, says longtime friend, and artist Gwen Davidson. 

John Hampton was the late businessman and philanthropist whose Hampton Affiliates includes the lumber company started by his father. He and Carol Hampton were married for 56 years. John Hampton died in 2006, and Carol passed away Jan. 3 from intestinal complications at age 85. 

The outlines of Carol Hampton's life are well known because she lived so much of it in the public eye as the wife of a stalwart, tough businessman who became one of the civic lions of post-World War II Portland. 

She and John Hampton met in Seattle, where she studied art and literature at the University of Washington. But for about two years after college, theirs was a 3,000-mile courtship, because Carol Hampton whisked herself away to New York City to soak up the bohemian expressionism of The Arts Students League. A portrait she completed in 1948 captures her dual affections of that time -- art and John -- as well as fully revealing her aptitude. Carol Hampton was a superbly trained artist. 

Blessed with discipline, talent and curiosity, in another world or at another time, Carol Hampton would have become a professional artist. Instead, she chose to become the devoted wife of a young man determined to make a mark in the world. Four kids were born to the couple: Cynthia, Jamey, David and Elizabeth. 

She demonstrated enduring dedication to charities ranging from Reed College to the Portland Art Museum, all of which she carried out without pomp.

She was a woman of quiet action, behind the scenes, says art dealer Elizabeth Leach.

But there was more to Carol Hampton. She also perfected the subtler art of influencing others, including her husband.

John Hampton was famous for conferring his business acumen to cultural institutions over the years, as well as giving them money. But none of that would have happened without his wife, who not merely introduced her slightly rough-hewn husband to art, but tutored him on the value of it, as well.

"She could be brutally honest," says Jamey Hampton, who recounted an uncomfortably blunt appraisal of his appearance by his mother. "'You should always wear black,' she said, calmly. 'It's a power color for you.'" 

Jamey Hampton is now a board member of Hampton Affiliates but is best known as a choreographer and dancer, the co-founder of the modern dance company, BodyVox. It was a profession his mother encouraged. Like both parents, he's also an active civic patron.

Carol Hampton never stopped making art throughout her adult life, evolving from a fine-tuned realist style to a more rigorous abstract one over the years. Art was a near-daily happening for her, and often on her mind. But she had just one exhibit, at the Heathman Hotel, curated by Leach. Why?

"She never thought highly of what she did," says her good friend, sculptor and former Portland State University professor Mel Katz. "But she was excited about trying things. Her work was risk-taking."

Indeed, the world of art is where Hampton comfortably took risks. Her public life was defined by responsibilities and order. But her studio reveals the creative chaos inside her: countless brushes, tubes of paint, unfinished drawings, books and photos are strewn about. On a desk is an unfinished print.

Jamey Hampton thinks that his mom's foremost artistic ambition was to understand art, not to show and sell it.

After her husband died, Hampton did not stop taking risks. In 2007, she purchased, on behalf of the Portland Art Museum, a Robert Rauschenberg work for $1 million, giving the museum its first major work by the artist and financially benefiting the Blue Sky Gallery, which sold the painting.

That philanthropic act, at once giving and self-gratifying, defined Carol Hampton.

Taped to her refrigerator door for more than a decade has been a holiday card with a quote from Ingrid Bergman. Jamey Hampton says his mother kept it visible for a reason. It says: "Be yourself. The world worships the original."

Author: D.K. Row. Reprinted with permission from The Oregonian, January 23, 2011