As artists, we seek to create a larger-than-life experience out of the un-extraordinary materials of our craft. Paper. Paint. Wood. Metal. We take these simple things, and create from them something else altogether, with a capacity to engage and move us deeply.
It is much like the difference between making sounds and making music. Music has a kind of magical quality, a special richness that speaks to us -- out of nowhere -- in its own terms. That is, music is not beautiful simply because it replicates something else in reality that has meaning to a human, like the sound of a baby cooing or a lion roaring. Music is beautiful to experience because the human mind has a special capacity to apprehend and emotionally relate to sound.
Ah... but what kind of sound?
Personally, I find the most meaning in solos, heightened personal performances by an instrumentalist or by a skilled vocalist. And this is my approach to art: to do for the eyes what Duane Allman or Pavarotti do for the ears.
Just as with music, we have an innate capacity to be deeply moved by a picture or sculpted object. There is a poignance to art, which communicates something about our inner lives. It is not simply "Here's exactly what a bowl of fruit looks like," but a heartfelt memento of a human experience deeply felt. This is true whether the work created is realistic or abstract.
I seek to create works that excite and engage me, that grow in resonance over time. Typically, for me this includes active, evident brush strokes, rather than the smooth, blended imagery of Renaissance painters. This often results in a work that from a distance might seem photographically accurate, but from a nearer viewing distance is animated, as if creating itself while you watch.
While I make paintings that are often representative of real things, my intention is not specifically to replicate the appearance of reality. It is to create an emotional experience that speaks to me, and ideally others, deeply. If real objects or scenes are depicted, my intent is usually to show them with enough accuracy that the viewer "gets it" without being distracted by poor rendering. That's why when people ask me "How do you know when a picture is done?" I respond, "When there's nothing else wrong with it."
For me, creating art is like being on a journey of discovery; being attentive, open to new ideas and experiences, and brutally honest with the work I am creating.
While certain themes appear repeatedly through my body of work -- man's spiritual response to the sky, the contrast of the modern commercial landscapes versus the classic natural scene, the richness of color and the vividness of animated line -- I am more interested in making works that are complete departures, rather than creating the same work over repeatedly. |