McCoy’s Chophouse in Endicott was just purchased by a couple from Milford, NY!
Not the actual retail restaurant but this original oil painting of it that was exhibited in the Cooperstown 2025 National Art Exhibition, and the selling price was only $2,500. A much better deal compared to the original asking price for the actual restaurant retail space.
This recent 16×20 inch original oil painting explores McCoy’s Chophouse in Endicott, NY, and stands as a pivotal piece in my evolving series that delves into the intricate tapestry of public restaurant and pub interiors I’ve frequented over the years.
Just twenty-five years ago, this beloved establishment was known as Orlandos, which later transformed into Lampy’s before ultimately becoming McCoy’s Chophouse. Throughout its history, this cherished venue has served as a backdrop for countless celebrations—birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, first dates, and other significant milestones. I even held my wedding rehearsal dinner here during the Orlando era, making it a place steeped in personal memories.
I’ve always been captivated by the bar’s moody, intimate atmosphere and the way the warm lighting creates a welcoming and calming ambiance. In this piece, I chose to focus on the space itself, portraying a solitary patron at the end of the bar. Many of us, at some point in our lives, have mustered the courage to venture into a bar alone, seeking solace or adventure in the company of strangers.
Interestingly, the perception of sitting solo in a bar or restaurant has evolved significantly. What was once a source of stigma has become increasingly normalized, particularly among Millennials and Gen Z, who embrace solo outings as opportunities for exploration rather than social failures. This shift reflects a broader cultural change, where solitude is celebrated as a chance for personal reflection and self-discovery.
It was nearly thirty-four years ago when I first set brush to canvas in Savannah, Georgia, captivated by Van Gogh’s haunting masterpiece, “The Night Café.” In a letter to his beloved brother Theo, Vincent described his inspiration: “Today I am probably going to begin in the interior of the café where I have a room, by gaslight, in the evening. It is what they call here a ‘café de nuit’—they are quite common, staying open all night. ‘Night prowlers’ can find refuge there when they have no money for lodging or are too intoxicated to be taken in.”
As I reflected on my own painting, I felt a deep connection to Van Gogh’s world. The dim light of the café, the swirling shadows, and the vibrant yet somber colors echoed my own experiences, both as an artist and a seeker of solace in the night.
