I think that a good artist statement should not only convey how, but why I paint. It should explain what motivates me to pick up a brush and render a specific subject. I choose to render a subject because I have a strong emotional attachment to it; for instance, I appropriate vintage comic strips because they are a direct means of conveying my aversion to the domineering men in my life. I render images of my family due to the dysfunctional nature of it. I paint images of objects because of their metaphorical significance. I paint geometric patterns because it brings order and stability to my mind.
I prefer to work from life since painting alla prima enables me to function as a conduit---the direct experience of painting a human allows me to convey my feelings about that certain person (which is expressed through aggressive mark making and textures rather than in words.) Also, painting from life demands a high level of skill since models shift, the light changes, and I have different moods in each painting session.
My formal training under Herbert George at the University of Chicago (I earned an MFA in 2003, and I teach at the American Academy of Art in Chicago.) I work primarily in the still life genre and focus on both metaphorical and prosaic subject matter. Working under Professor George involved working from life exclusively, using at first the conceptual and technical methods of the Direct painters—the Flemish, Dutch, and Spanish masters, and then the late nineteenth century Italian, French, Slavic, and American painters. Some of my current influences include European vanitas painters such as Pieter Claesz, Francisco Zurburán, Gustave Caillebotte, and Jan Vermeer. Also, I study the works of Chardin and play with concepts of momento mori, and trompe loeil. My goal is not to imitate their styles, but to understand how they thought, how they used the mediums, what their problems were, and how they approached them.
At this period in my artistic development (in graduate school) I drew and painted eyeglasses often. I became attracted to this metaphorical subject when I was earning an MFA at the University of Chicago. Since I was feeling quite overwhelmed by a whirlwind of contemporary art theory, I decided that I should only focus upon physical, real things instead of esoteric ideas. So, when I started fumbling around with a pair of glasses in front of a flood light, Professor George helped me to notice the sinuous, long shadows that were elegantly draped across a table—they played little games with each other and compelled me to paint. On a deeper level, I remembered how it felt to be still, and to ground myself (or, in other words, get outside of myself) by looking outward. Ironically, I don’t wear glasses, and have excellent 20/20 vision, but the glasses symbolize the psychological filters that color (and distort) my perceptions of reality.
Currently, I have categorized my work into four series:
• Cowboys
• Metaphorical Objects
• Figurative works
• Geometric Patterns
The Cowboy Series addresses events that I process within the genre of comic books. In my journal, I record and collect fragments of notable dialogues I have had with domineering, offensive, aggressive, and frustrating people. I then appropriate and embellish frames from old Western comic books . I alter the word and thought bubbles to process these significant events of my life. (It’s cheaper than therapy). Basically, the short sequences I depict bear a sense of dry humour and provide me with comic relief.
The comic books I use were published between 1945—1970. Consequently, I can analyze them objectively since I was born in 1974, and grew up outside of that space and time. I wonder why all of the women are submissive and have impossible proportions, and the men always rescue the damsels in distress. Also, since they were predominately written by white males, the stories lack African American characters, and acquiesce to the desires of the white male gaze.
I’m also drawn to the mannered gestures and costumes found in old Westerns. Occasionally, I will collage bits of the actual comic strip into the paintings, but mainly, I just alter the captions to reflect recent episodes in my life. In essence, the process transforms an otherwise odd or stressful event into something funny...or dare I say, even corny.
Essentially, I think that all of my paintings are problems to solve. If they spiral out of control, I must reign them in, and instill order. The act of painting is similar to managing my life. There are periods of chaos, followed by periods of order. I have a dialogue with my paintings, and they show me the way.
In summary, I make art because it enables me to return to a still, orderly place where I make the rules; where I am in control. I’m blessed to share my passion with my students, and to share my love of painting with them. I have been teaching the Fundamentals of Art at the American Academy of Art in Chicago since 2007.
I prefer to work from life since painting alla prima enables me to function as a conduit---the direct experience of painting a human allows me to convey my feelings about that certain person (which is expressed through aggressive mark making and textures rather than in words.) Also, painting from life demands a high level of skill since models shift, the light changes, and I have different moods in each painting session.
My formal training under Herbert George at the University of Chicago (I earned an MFA in 2003, and I teach at the American Academy of Art in Chicago.) I work primarily in the still life genre and focus on both metaphorical and prosaic subject matter. Working under Professor George involved working from life exclusively, using at first the conceptual and technical methods of the Direct painters—the Flemish, Dutch, and Spanish masters, and then the late nineteenth century Italian, French, Slavic, and American painters. Some of my current influences include European vanitas painters such as Pieter Claesz, Francisco Zurburán, Gustave Caillebotte, and Jan Vermeer. Also, I study the works of Chardin and play with concepts of momento mori, and trompe loeil. My goal is not to imitate their styles, but to understand how they thought, how they used the mediums, what their problems were, and how they approached them.
At this period in my artistic development (in graduate school) I drew and painted eyeglasses often. I became attracted to this metaphorical subject when I was earning an MFA at the University of Chicago. Since I was feeling quite overwhelmed by a whirlwind of contemporary art theory, I decided that I should only focus upon physical, real things instead of esoteric ideas. So, when I started fumbling around with a pair of glasses in front of a flood light, Professor George helped me to notice the sinuous, long shadows that were elegantly draped across a table—they played little games with each other and compelled me to paint. On a deeper level, I remembered how it felt to be still, and to ground myself (or, in other words, get outside of myself) by looking outward. Ironically, I don’t wear glasses, and have excellent 20/20 vision, but the glasses symbolize the psychological filters that color (and distort) my perceptions of reality.
Currently, I have categorized my work into four series:
• Cowboys
• Metaphorical Objects
• Figurative works
• Geometric Patterns
The Cowboy Series addresses events that I process within the genre of comic books. In my journal, I record and collect fragments of notable dialogues I have had with domineering, offensive, aggressive, and frustrating people. I then appropriate and embellish frames from old Western comic books . I alter the word and thought bubbles to process these significant events of my life. (It’s cheaper than therapy). Basically, the short sequences I depict bear a sense of dry humour and provide me with comic relief.
The comic books I use were published between 1945—1970. Consequently, I can analyze them objectively since I was born in 1974, and grew up outside of that space and time. I wonder why all of the women are submissive and have impossible proportions, and the men always rescue the damsels in distress. Also, since they were predominately written by white males, the stories lack African American characters, and acquiesce to the desires of the white male gaze.
I’m also drawn to the mannered gestures and costumes found in old Westerns. Occasionally, I will collage bits of the actual comic strip into the paintings, but mainly, I just alter the captions to reflect recent episodes in my life. In essence, the process transforms an otherwise odd or stressful event into something funny...or dare I say, even corny.
Essentially, I think that all of my paintings are problems to solve. If they spiral out of control, I must reign them in, and instill order. The act of painting is similar to managing my life. There are periods of chaos, followed by periods of order. I have a dialogue with my paintings, and they show me the way.
In summary, I make art because it enables me to return to a still, orderly place where I make the rules; where I am in control. I’m blessed to share my passion with my students, and to share my love of painting with them. I have been teaching the Fundamentals of Art at the American Academy of Art in Chicago since 2007.
