Edition: U.S. / Global


Published: May 28, 1987

WHAT set the Upper East Side townhouse apart from other, equally wrecked construction sites were the doodles on the wall, deftly drawn and suitable for framing.

Some caricatured the boss. Others depicted ribald scenes. Mock-family portraits were drawn over the fireplace. Then there were the miniature drawings that imitated Jasper Johns paintings. Mr. Johns owns the house; the drawings were small missiles launched by the workmen, who are also artists, to the owner.

Seven of the 10 workers renovating Mr. Johns's townhouse last year were artists They were just a few of the thousands of artists who work on construction jobs to support themselves, according to several contractors in New York. The artists are the equivalent of the New York waiters who are really actors.

''I'd say nearly 50% of small-scale residential construction in Manhattan is being done by people involved with the arts,'' said Dean Pappalardo, a 28-year-old painter from Cleveland who came to New York 4 and a half years ago. He is now a construction foreman on an Upper Westside renovation.

These artists often start by doing odd jobs for friends in downtown lofts, learning skills as they earn money, and graduating to jobs on construction sites where they work beside professional carpenters and craftsmen.

''I tried jobs that supposedly were cool, like working for nightclubs like AREA,'' Mr. Pappalardo said. ''But you couldn't take time off and they didn't pay as much as construction does. There's a lot of construction work in New York, and you make the most money in the shortest time doing it.''

''Why do I hire artists?'' asked Louis Meader, who owns Meader Associates, a contracting firm in Brooklyn that specializes in custom renovation. ''I've found they have a high interest in detail and quality that the outside work force often doesn't have. We do complex jobs that call for creative thinking a lot of the time.''

''Something of their passion from their artistic pursuits carries over to the site,'' said Doug Cohen, a contractor in Manhattan who often hires artists. ''They work for three weeks in construction, then three in painting. They're not dulled by the monotony of a regular job - they're alive; they produce well.''

The New York architect William Pedersen, for example, recently created a design for his new Upper West side apartment - one with an extensive amount of mahogany paneling. The architect worked with Mr. Meader, who hired what amounted to a small art school from a pool of freelance artist/builders: an artist, a photographer, two people in set production and stage management, a musician/composer, an actor and a photographer. In addition, Mr. Pedersen contracted with Fred Goldfrank, who has a Ph.D. in biology, for the millwork, and Anthony Galante, a photographer and rock drummer, for the wood finishing.

Even before the craftsmen started the paneling work, they prepared the wall with nearly military precision, using shims to even the walls. The hundreds of mahogany pilasters, columns, door frames and cornices were meticulously fitted, and the raw wood was then finished.

''They all had a strong sense of what the job was about,'' Mr. Pedersen said. ''They'd even offer their esthetic comments.''

''You have to give wood a feeling, and musicians and artists seem to understand how to do that,'' said Mr. Galante, who also hires other artists. ''Musicians usually have a unique appreciation for wood. I play log drums; I know about woods with different densities.''

With their free-lance schedule, artists can control how much or how little they do. ''I keep the carpentry down to a level that's supportive and not competitive with my painting,'' says Michael Chandler, who currently has a show at the Stephen Rosenberg Gallery. ''Most people find some balance. I've chosen to keep the construction work small.''

For many, the distinction between the vocation and avocation blurs, sometimes for years, but most eventually make a choice. Mr. Chandler, for example, who paints mystic landscapes, inspired by 19th century American works, seems to be moving toward his artistic career, while Stanley Snyder, a sculptor and contractor, has with some reluctance become more of a contractor.

''It's a difficult choice, to decide to concentrate on making a living,'' says Mr. Snyder, whose Brooklyn contracting company, Kahn-Synder, often hires artists. ''There's always the promise of another show, another review.''

Mr. Pappalardo has recently graduated from carpenter to foreman. ''I hate it,'' he says. ''I hope to graduate out of construction altogether.'' In the meantime, he takes home about $700 a week, before taxes; his paintings have sold from between $900 and $2000.

''I don't see a point where I'm going to stop painting and do carpentry,'' says Jack Carter, a 28-year old sculptor from North Carolina who works as a carpenter - often with a pencil tucked over his ear, to mark lumber. .

Renovation sites populated by artists are unusual. Besides the possibility of drawings on the unpainted walls, there is often classical music playing, and what sometimes borders on Socratic dialogue. Several weeks ago, working on a Murray Hill studio, for example, Mr. Cohen and the artist/ carpenters discussed how countries with large military budgets could channel them to civilian uses.-The carpenter went on to hang a rectangular door within an distorted door frame - the process required technigues that were nearly surgical.

While attention to detail carries over from art into construction, construction itself influences the work of some artists. Some develop skills that help them create pieces that are better made. Bathroom tiles from a Wooster Street renovation found their way into a seascape painted by Mr. Chandler.

If the contractors who hire artists generally commend them for rarely saying a task can't be done, they also point out certain idiosyncracies. ''I deal with a lot of people who are temperamental,'' says Mr. Meader. ''For some, it's an achievement to be on time,'' says Mr. Snyder. ''Sometimes they think it's beneath their dignity to dig a hole,'' says Mr. Cohen.

And, because they are non-union, the artists may not work on certain jobs. ''The trades that tend to be unionized, like those for plumbers and electricians, don't have artists,'' says Mr. Cohen.

The workmen also point out idiosyncracies themselves. According to Kim Kimball, a painter, who also works as a carpenter, writers tend to be ''less physical'' than artists and get more involved with finishes that carpentry. Jeffrey Ehrlich, a novelist/carpenter, agrees, adding that artists can switch easily between their art and carpentry because they are both ''material arts,'' but it is difficult for him, as a writer, to make the change so quickly. ''With carpentry, you have to be responsible, adult,'' he says. ''Writing, at least fiction, you're more of a kid, irresponsible. I haven't written for months.''

What used to be Mr. Ehrlich's writing desk is now covered with construction invoices. Two volumes of the Compact Oxford English Dictionary, however, still lie within arm's reach.

Photos of artists who support themselves as craftsmen (NYT/William E. Sauro, Chester Higgins Jr. and Marilynn K. Yee)