Jack Nolan, unusual blend of an artist, scientist; at 83

Jack Nolan was president of Massachusetts College of Art in Boston. (Globe file/1980)

Measured by the peculiarities that divide scientists and artists, Jack Nolan was left-brain dominant, but he was just as decidedly right-brain dominant.

The hemispheres that harbor logic and creativity each prospered during a career that began at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology's Lincoln Laboratory, where Mr. Nolan was head of the computer systems group, and leaped across the divide when he became president of the Massachusetts College of Art in Boston.

"I think he was unique," said his sister, Katharine Dalton of Chatham. "Usually people are very scientific or very artistic. Usually they're not both."

Mr. Nolan, whose artistic journey took him from geometric shapes to delicate watercolors that came to define his view of the world, died of a heart ailment on Nov. 15 while walking in his San Rafael, Calif., neighborhood. He was 83 and previously had lived in Lexington for many years.

"I'm never quite sure how he made the jump from working on computers at Lincoln Lab to being president of an art college," said his son Liam of Somerville. "But I think that really demonstrated the two sides of his personality. My dad was always a very intelligent person, a true scientist and a mathematician. But at the same time that was always deeply tempered by his artistic interests."

The dichotomy was just as apparent in Mr. Nolan's working life.

At Lincoln Laboratory, "he was the best boss I've ever had," said Al Armenti of Concord, who worked with Mr. Nolan in the 1960s to create an early data-management system. "Very considerate. A great jokester."

A less gregarious side was on display at the art college, which Mr. Nolan guided through 18 years of sometimes turbulent change.

The student population tripled during his tenure, said William Hannon, a professor emeritus who was vice president for external affairs under Mr. Nolan. While the school searched for a more expansive campus to accommodate the growth, it fought to remain independent when Beacon Hill wanted the Massachusetts College of Art to merge with another state college.

Just as significantly during that "incredible, pressure-cooker time," Hannon added, Mr. Nolan applied his knowledge of science and computers to push the college into the 21st century nearly two decades before the millennium arrived. His proposal to increase spending on areas such as computer graphics offerings was not warmly received by traditionalists.

"He was absolutely a visionary," Hannon said. "He had trouble selling his vision, but when was that new?"

In 1984, Mr. Nolan wrote a five-year plan that he said responded to the evolving demands of students and the shifts in popularity among majors. The plan set off a battle with the faculty that resulted in Mr. Nolan relinquishing administration of the college in 1985 and resigning the presidency two years later.

"When people hear news they are not happy with, they feel the messenger is uninformed," Mr. Nolan told the Globe in 1984. Referring to the faculty, he added, "I don't think they like the message."

John F. Nolan grew up in Lawrence and by his teens had the ability to focus on a task to the exclusion of those around him.

"The thing I remember about Jack is his incredible power of concentration," his sister said. "I'm sure that made him a good scientist. You could speak to Jack, and he could totally ignore you. He'd be reading a book or writing something, and then he'd look up at you with this look of surprise as if you'd just walked into the room."

Out of high school he flew military supply planes in the United States during World War II, then went to school on the GI Bill. During college years, his family said, he worked in the rail yards and used pieces of chalk to puzzle out math equations on the sides of boxcars.

While completing his master's degree at MIT, he worked on Whirlwind, an early computer, and ended up at the Lincoln Laboratory.

Always an artist, Mr. Nolan kept a studio in his basement at his family's Lexington house while spending days as a research scientist.

"He had been sort of a Sunday painter apparently all his adult life," said his son Sean of Portland, Ore. "In the '60s, he was making big abstract geometric paintings." When Mr. Nolan became president of the art college, his son said, there wasn't enough time for his own art, "which is ironic, and when he left, he started doing watercolors."

As Mr. Nolan grew older, his sister said, "he concentrated only on watercolors and he got very involved in light and shade. He would somehow manage to run the colors together - it was a very light, airy touch that he had."

A few years ago, she said, "we were driving together and he said to me, 'You know, the entire world is beginning to look like watercolors to me.' He would just look at something and put a frame around it."

After leaving the college, Mr. Nolan taught, was a consultant, and returned to his previous employer to edit the Lincoln Laboratory Journal.

"He brought his artistic skills, a good artistic eye, to layout, design, and graphics," said Roger W. Sudbury, the former executive officer of the lab and a friend who found in his colleague an art educator ready to discuss exhibitions here and afar. "I expect I will for a number of years to enjoy art exhibitions. I will miss having him around to discuss modern painters."

Mr. Nolan's wife of 53 years, Ginny, died a few years ago of Alzheimer's disease, and he assumed the role of principal caregiver during her illness.

"I told him once how much I admired him for that, and he said, 'Well, she took care of me for many years, I can take care of her,' " his sister said.

When his wife died, Mr. Nolan sold the house in Lexington, retired from Lincoln Laboratory, and spent the last couple of years painting, taking art classes, and teaching a few, too.

"He said, 'I'm going to travel and paint, paint and travel,' " his sister said. "So that's what he did."

In addition to his two sons and sister, Mr. Nolan leaves a daughter, Nancy of Staten Island, N.Y.; a brother, James Greene of Los Angeles; and a granddaughter.

A memorial service will be held at 1 p.m. on Jan. 26 in First Parish Unitarian Universalist Church in Lexington.