nathan spoor

nathan spoor, the actuarium, acrylic on canvas, 25"x32"

nathan spoor is at the top of his game. finding success in a myriad of ventures, nathan has been sharing beautiful art with the world for years. as an artist, writer and curator nathan is a busy, busy man, but he took the time to answer some of my most pressing questions this week. 

CG: You're from Texas, home of the bluebonnet, where you also attended art school. How did you enjoy life in the Lone Star State?

NS: That’s a pretty broad question, since there’s so much to enjoy about being in Texas. I suppose the best way to answer that is to say that I was brought up in a very loving home and had the opportunity to appreciate quite a bit of my surroundings. We moved around a bit, due to Dad being a youth and family minister (Church of Christ). So I got to meet a lot of people and be around a broad range of individuals. It was quite an experience. Dad’s also a master craftsman, so I also had a healthy understanding of work outside of “work”. Mom is a third grade teacher, so I got the psychology and good parenting all around. Life in Texas is pretty groovy, especially since hindsight is 20/20. Summers are seriously hot, and winters are generally cold, super windy and wet. I have allergies, so the Texas weather is pretty miserable for me. Southern California is much better for me in that, and many other respects.

Since I got to grow up in a loving and creatively nurturing environment, I’d have to say I had it pretty good growing up in TX. Skateboarding and drawing were my main pastimes. Through Jr. High and High School we lived in Houston on the outskirts of a great community around Sugar Land called the Meadows. On the other side of our back yard fence was a mall that was closed for years, so I grew up during that time on a skateboard, hitting the mall up daily. I explored as far as I could get on a board or a bike and my friends had similarly cool parents, so we all had fun.

I've heard that in its own sparse way, the topography of Texas is very beautiful. Was there a great deal of artistic inspiration there?

I might say no at first, but if you get a chance to spend time in Texas you’ll see the most amazing skies. The sunsets are amazing and the clouds are a great show. The good thing about Texas is that, being mostly flat you can get a great view of incoming storms or open skies from many vantage points. The downside can also be that it’s so open that there’s not much hope for shade in the heat of summer or the storm season, when hail can get up to baseball size (actually happened a couple years back).

But yes, there is a large community of artists that draw vast inspiration from the Texas landscapes and natural beauty found there. I’d go so far as to say there’s no shortage of Texas art to be found.

As a native NWer I admit to some ingrown biases about the culture down in Texas. How misinformed am I? I hear Austin is hip, but that can't be the only lovely part of your home state!

I don’t know really. No, we don’t all have horses or ranches or herd cattle or drill for oil. That does exist, but usually with the more prominent families that have been doing that for generations. I think these days it might be a more die hard lifestyle - that “True Texan” thing. But when you get to more populated areas it’s pretty much the picture of civilization. My parents moved to a smaller town during my senior year of high school, so I got a dose of small town vs. big town. Houston is a much larger and more multicultural experience than Snyder. To let you know the ratio, I was going to a high school of about 9000 with a graduating class of 900+, and we moved to a town where the entire high school might have been around 900, with a graduating class of maybe 100. So every extreme exists, but you have to know where to look for it perhaps.

nathan spoor, the arrival, acrylic on canvas, 18"x34" 

For the most part though, if you think of Texas as being predominantly Christian, Bible Belters with a moral standard and low tolerance for change, you might be right. But that’s just one aspect of it, though a large one, and if you asked another Texan what it’s like they might give you a different picture.

Austin is pretty amazing. The music scene there is so rich and vibrant. The landscape is pretty great too, making it a kind of oasis of the flat Texas surroundings. Growing up in Houston, where it’s super humid and has its own mosquito population, places like Austin or San Antonio were places that were great to escape to. I didn’t really do that too much until college though. That’s too far to get to on a skateboard when you’re a kid.

I understand that you now live and work in Los Angeles. What drew you to LA?

Art. I got to a point in my life where I was experienced enough as an Art Director in Dallas that I was ready to move forward. It was just a few years, but after spending time designing all day and weekends, and coming home to paint a few hours before resting up for the next day of the same thing, I was ready for a change. I had built up my first body of paintings and had just done a show in Venice at some friends’ furniture store on Abbot Kinney during the Venice Art Walk. I got a great response and knew I was going to choose LA, or it had chosen me. It was that or New York. And no offense, but NY is just too cold.

Plus, I had this dream of standing out in a crowd and a fellow Art Director had given me a couple issues of Juxtapoz. It wasn’t long (a month or so later) after that that the company I was working for closed its doors, and the next week I was moving to LA. Through my first couple issues of Jux I found out that people were doing their own thing around LA, and had been for years. It was fortuitous I guess. At that time, in 2001, the magazine was still gaining momentum and there were very few places to show work. But I got lucky and met some cool people and did freelance work until I started showing and selling regularly. I still do, actually. That need to constantly grow and move forward isn’t going to stop.

Do you find that the proximity to such a large, progressive art scene stimulates your creativity and keeps you on the ball?

I’d have to say yes. But the reality is this, I’ve already been confronted with the fact that I’d be painting and pursuing my work in this epic narrative even if I couldn’t show or support myself in galleries. You only find that out when confronted with it. If you don’t stay on the ball you fall from grace in a way. I think I would be denying my gifts and insulting things far beyond my understanding if I was to try to navigate away from this “destiny” of sorts.

And yes, it’s essential to live in or with direct access to a place like LA. If you want to be involved or relevant you have to be close to where it’s happening. That’s not the case for every artist of course. But for me, it’s been true. Proximity and access make all the difference. If I couldn’t just pop in and bother a gallery for a check or drop off / pick up my work I’d be in a disadvantage.

And then there’s the personality aspect. Maybe some people are just built for certain things. I believe that. That acceptance of one’s self and true nature is directly related to your success or failure. That gets us into another topic that I’m no expert in though.

nathan spoor, citizens of the war, acrylic on canvas, 26"x20"

Your work seems deeply rooted in a world of fantasy. Much of your work depicts chimerical, otherworldly landscapes, do these pieces represent views of one particular imaginary world that you visit in your mind, or is your imagination constantly taking you new places?

I wish I had a great response for that one. I can tell you what I think it is, even though that is an evolving answer in itself. I call the body of work I’ve been painting through since I moved to LA in 2001, The Intimate Parade. I feel that the work represents a physical manifestation of a combination of my personal and spiritual particles, as well as experiences and insights into various realms.

There’s a certain aspect of sight involved as well. I do have strange visions or see things that I can’t explain and wouldn’t know how to access normally. There’s an “in between” that appears in some form of meditative communication. I wish I could go into it further but I’d go on and on and on and wouldn’t make much sense. So yes, let’s just say my imagination and universally conscious selves are very active and productive.

nathan spoor, the emissary, acrylic on canvas, 36"x36"

One of my most precious thrift store finds of all time was an old denim trapper keeper that feel open to reveal that it was a twenty year old Dungeons and Dragons Monster Manual (with HUNDREDS of mint condition monster illustrations with their moves, and powers, etc.), disguised as a seventh grader's math folder. Did you play any role playing games, or have exposure to that old school fantasy style illustration when you were growing up?

I always wondered where that went!

No, I never played role-playing games or anything, they weren’t allowed. And fantasy art was too graphic or suggestive for us kids (I have one younger brother). I guess my influences as a kid were Star Wars, comic books, and things like that. Super heroes were a big thing. I liked Spider Man, Captain America, things like that.

I appreciate that your work varies, from pieces that are somewhat haunting in their emptiness and simplicity, to pieces that are fecund with imagery, characters and action. Does the finished result reflect your state of mind when you were working on the piece?

I like the word “fecund”. It’s like you’re going to talk about poo and then it’s very intellectual. Like high-class poo. And that brings us back to art. I’m not sure if it overtly reflects my state of mind, but I do think that it always has that imprint. I try to let the piece grow as it needs and not over think or overdo it. 

Were you a fantasy reader/watcher when you were young, or, for that matter, are you still?

Yes and yes.

I find your work incredibly romantic, in that rich, literary sense... a la King Arthur or Beowulf. Are you a reader as well as a writer?

Thank you, and still the answer is yes. We read those books or stories in high school and I enjoyed them. I thought the whole translation bit for Beowulf and the Canterbury Tales pretty crazy. Everything was written in a highly intelligent code or foreign unused language in today’s means. I always enjoyed English and Lit classes, and had a good time with the course work. Science was different story. That was challenging and exciting and so foreign. I’m no scientist but I took away as much as I could and try to listen to science podcasts and things.

Do your literary or cinematic choices contribute to the formation of your fantasy landscapes?

I’m sure they do. I watch movies to relax and read to keep sharp.

What is your workspace like?

It’s small, in what would be the tiny dining area corner of the apartment here. It’s in the corner between the kitchen and living room. I keep only paintings in progress on the walls, so I can switch things up when I need to switch gears and get into different works.

What kind of inspiration do you surround yourself with?

Music, ufo and science podcasts, paranormal news, mystery and thriller books, and all the paintings in progress on the walls and floors.

nathan spoor, the pleasant plunder, acrylic on canvas

Are you a prolific artist, or do your pieces take time?

That’s two questions, yes and yes. I work on about a dozen pieces at any time. They take months to finish, and are very detailed and time consuming. I’ve very fortunate to be able to paint as much as I do.

Are you the type to work a piece through several stages and mediums, with sketches and under drawings, or do you find that the piece is already waiting on the canvas simply waiting to be revealed?

I generally get solid ideas for entire pieces or sections of works. Then I sketch out the ideas and order stretcher frames. Then I stretch them, prep them, sand it up and get started painting. I don’t sketch onto the canvas. I like the challenge of only painting, loosely, then tightening it up as I go along. I’ll leave plenty of room for things to switch up if the idea needs to go a different direction. It’s an organic process, and needs to grow at its own rate to become a really successful piece.

I see a relation between your work and the works of other visionary artists, like Hieronymus Bosch and Max Ernst. I also read your interview with visionary art Mack daddy Alex Grey. Do you consider yourself a visionary artist?

I’d say so. Those artists are far more advanced than I am, but I’m going to go the distance and see what happens.


Fenario Gallery, the art space that I direct/curate, started out as a visionary art gallery and we've been lucky to put on shows with artists like Robert Venosa, Martina Hoffman, and Bill Kruetzmann. When I got started visionary art wasn't my expertise so I made the time to visit the American Museum of Visionary Art when I was out East. Though they did have pieces by contemporaries like Alex Grey, a lot of their curatorial choices seemed to highlight an altered mental state, most often "confirmed", diagnosed mental illness, as the source of "visionary art." Though multiple definitions can certainly exist, my limited knowledge of visionary art had, up to that point, been defined by a notion that visionary art is that which depicts freely and without censorship a deep and natural connection to fantasy and myth. How do you define visionary art?

Well, I feel that most any forum of thought remains open to a wide variety of opinions and expectations. The defining of anything so open almost limits its potential. I don’t think we can help but have a limited view of what “visionary art” is. I think if it’s a poignant and rich visual, coming from somewhere beyond our understanding and created in the spirit of education or love, it’s relevant. See, I can’t even pinpoint an answer really. Fantasy art is fantasy in my opinion. Visionary art is such a rich and stigmatized term that I think I could only use it as a partial explanation for what I do. But all in all, I don’t try to define visionary art.

It's funny, when I first started at Fenario and I was told that it was a "Visionary Art" gallery, I had a real syntactical problem with the term visionary art. To me, all art is visionary, so the title seemed overly broad and prone to misunderstanding. I often find myself asking artists to define things for me, only to realize my syntactical error in using the word "define," because I too think that art terms should be plastic. 

Have you had a chance to visit the AMVA?

Not yet.

How do you feel about their curatorial practice?

I don’t know. I did find this online: http://www.avam.org/
If that’s the place you’re talking about then I’m not really feeling it. The site was cluttered, on the cheesy side, and I couldn’t really take it seriously. Visionary art deserves a much more respectable forum to tell you the truth. The artists you mentioned, plus so many others, deserve far better than to be associated with a sideshow representation of their immensely talented and undying efforts. I could go on, and hopefully there’s another place you were thinking about. But that one is insulting (no reflection on you of course, always thankful of new things to see!).

I couldn't agree more. I went to the AVMA hoping to see works by artists like A Andrew Gonzalez, Alex Grey, H.R. Giger, Robert Venosa, Martina Hoffmann, and Oleg Korolov, and instead found predominantly historical work where the didactics seemed to extort the artists mental illness and outsider status. There were a couple Alex Greys hung in sort of half-hearted spots in the front hall, but the majority of the work was set up almost like a circus freak show! The beauty of the art seemed undermined by the fact that descriptions of the immensely talented artists focused primarily on "reports of hearing voices" or "erratic" behavior, as if their greatest triumph was managing to create despite their "disabilities" rather than the execution of profound, unique art. Though I enjoyed viewing the art I was really disheartened by the fashion in which it was presented. Particularly because the AMVA is, at the moment, the only large scale exhibition space for so-called "Visionary Art" and those who visit the museum without previous knowledge of the genre risk leaving forever thinking that it is an unimportant, trivial artistic sidebar!

nathan spoor, the age of innocence, acrylic on canvas, 20"x26"

Aside from your successful fine art career you've also had your hands in other pots, such as curating art shows at several great national galleries, like your recent curatorial effort at Bold Hype "Say When." How do you enjoy working with other artists in a more organizational, administrative capacity?

I like it, in the respect of working with fellow artists and trying to find better ways and situations to showcase talent. I don’t think I’m especially talented at it, if one can be as such. But I do enjoy the possibilities of working with new potential spotlights for the individuals that I find visually captivating and personally gifted.

What got you into curating?

Same as above. I guess I fell into it in some ways. As it’s not my prime intention, I see it as an opportunity to be of service, or as an intermediary of fine talent or artist placement in a specific spotlight. If I think about it, I had opportunities to curate shows when a space would make itself available. Generally it would be a nontraditional location that I could figure out how to work a group show out for. Sometimes I would get offered a solo show and turn that into a group show, just to test out the space or feel out the market there. Now I occasionally get the chance to work with places I know or trust and curate with, or the new gallery that just seems to have a really nice vibe or cool owner. Having had some sketchy experiences I tend to not jump at most opportunities. You just get a feel for it or can tell what will be positive and what might not work out.

You've been in the game awhile, do you find yourself calling on artists who you know and admire and already have an established following, or do you try to push younger, less exposed talent that you believe in and want to see do well?

Both. That’s the beauty of having the opportunity to curate from that position. Putting together a balanced show, whether new or established talent is something I aspire to be better at.

What do you put a premium on when organizing a show: a good theme? An aesthetic resonance between artists' styles?

The opportunity and audience are premium, mostly. It makes a big difference to work with someone that will put in as much energy or offer a good platform to showcase individuals. I look for, or enjoy working with opportunities, rather, that will really get behind the idea. The artists really need to work with someone respectable that will not let them down or drop the ball. It also really helps to work with folks that will follow through on their word, especially since handshakes are the most common deals around. I work with people on their word, so when they lay down on the deal, it only hurts the growth of what we might have been able to do with them. The premiums are on trust, opportunity, audience, possibility, forward momentum, etc.

nathan spoor, the night visit, acrylic on canvas, 18"x34"

You've also been lucky enough to work with Hi-Fructose and BL!SSS and other great art publications as a writer/interviewer. Have you always been a writer?

Yes and no. I’ve always enjoyed writing for my own enjoyment. It wasn’t until Greg Escalante asked me to help out on interviews he had the opportunity to do with Juxtapoz that I really got into art writing. I’m no pro by any means but I do enjoy it and have a genuinely good time and somewhat of a knack for some aspects of it. We write for whoever comes our way and puts it in print that he gets along with, art rags, books, online. I’m now assisting Hi Fructose with fun things and content as a Contributing Editor and Writer for their online and occasionally in print. Without the happy accident of assisting Greg in our Juxtapoz articles and stories I wouldn’t have really thought about doing this sort of thing. But I love it and would like to continue pursuing it and see where it goes.

Is the interviewing something that you pursued, or did it sort of come with the territory as you became more and more active in the scene?

I didn’t pursue it at first. I would go about my business and Greg would / will call up and see if I’m free to do an interview and we get on a three way call with the artists and I type as fast as I can and create my own shorthand version of the conversation. It’s gotten me more proficient in typing for sure! As time went on, I started to see opportunities to be more active in the interviews, and Greg always encourages me to jump in. Being as active as I’ve been definitely helps. And now I’ve been coming up with new ideas that we’ll talk over and see how they go.

What do you get from the practice of hearing about other people's processes and inspirations?

It’s really interesting to hear artists that I respect and admire talk about their craft and their approach to bringing their work to life. We all seem to have some visionary aspect to our work, and each individual has his or her own unique brand of seeing it into reality. It definitely helps to hear people talk about their work and process though. It helps me formulate my own responses to the same questions we all get asked and have a more appropriate answer. It also helps me understand what not to ask or how to go about being more creative in asking questions so that an artist can have more freedom to express themselves when responding.

nathan spoor, a wink for safe passages, acrylic on canvas, 26"x20"

What is your best advice for young people entering the gallery world, as either artists or administrators?

Well, I always say that you have to really love what you do if you want to keep doing it. It’s also going to be clear as to whether or not you should be pursuing something or not. Be sensitive and listen more than you talk, and when you answer, be clear and direct. I guess the most important thing is to just do what you feel is your thing; don’t be upset when or if people don’t respond instantly to your genius ideas. Patience is key, timing is imminent, and at the right moment it will all click into place. But if I was getting into this again I would make sure I was really ready for it. Everyone has an opinion about your work. Some are right on and some are jealous and mask themselves in friendship to keep you at a mediocre level. Don’t accept mediocrity, but understand when the right person is giving you advice that’s gold. Things might take a while to make sense, and if you’re really lucky, it might happen really fast. If that’s the case, just trust yourself to do the right thing, keep a level head, and know whom you can trust around you.

Administrators? Well, I guess, the approach would be the key. If you’re working with artists, always follow through. Be open and explain things when they’re murky or difficult. Be very patient, be available when you can be, and try to understand that everyone is learning and everyone is going to forget things. Be on top of your records and keep a good calendar!

If you were a fantasy creature what would you be?

A time traveler.


Favorite Saturday morning cartoon of old?

I didn’t know cartoons came on on Sundays. We were always at church, so cartoons were on Saturday for me. I think the best was Bugs Bunny / Looney Toons. There are tons more, but those are the classics for me. The ones with Friz Freleng and Mel Blanc are the best.

If you could loose Paul McCarthy's ill-fated inflatable dogshit piece on anyone's picnic who would it be? 

I think the irony would be if Paul McCarthy was having a picnic with Jeff Koons and it landed on top of them and they ended up smooshed on top of each other, and came out with chocolate pudding on their faces (we think it was pudding). The chocolate Santa buttplug is brilliant.

That would be truly spectacular. I remember reading about the transformation of the Maccarone gallery into McCarthy's chocolate butt-plug factory and thought to myself, Michele Maccarone has got it made. I'll know that I've made it in the gallery world when I have the resources and the cajones to turn my entire gallery into a chocolate butt-plug factory. To be able to delve so deeply into artistic fantasy and to stand so assuredly in the face of potentially REALLY shocking people for the sake of artistic liberty seems like a great state to be in. 

nathan spoor, the immaculate correspondence, acrylic on canvas, 32"x25"

nathan spoor has several upcoming exhibits of his work, including march's group show old skool vs. new skool at PULSE new york, march 5-8. 

 

all that glitters.... jamie vasta

jamie vasta, stepsister, glitter on stained panel, 36"x48", 2007


as a curator, i'm often content driven. i want to be sure that when i commit the time, energy, and resources it takes to put on an art show, that the work has something to say, and that the stories told are unique, relevant and empowered. 

i don't just want art that simply has something to say, i want art that conveys a message that will infect you... stay with you like a fever.... flavor your daydreams like strong, rare spices pillaged from a long sunken merchant ship. 

but as an art lover, i'm still a snob for execution.... that's not to say that i simply put aside technique when i am reviewing portfolios for the gallery, i'm simply saying that luckily most of the portfolios that i receive come from artists who have taken the time to master their technique, whatever that may be, and that is obivious enough to make the major factor in my decision making process whether or not i am moved by the content, voice, and themes. i have favored mediums: i love printmaking, contemporary craft like assemblage, i love charcoal, panel, encaustic, ink (god i love ink)... but i can appreciate any medium used appropriately and interestingly. in fact, what i really dig, is new materials/new media. i'm a bit of a techno-phobe, so while i dig video art and all the new applications of digital technology in art, i'm not overly comfortable judging it, due to my basic lack of technical understanding. what i really like to see is people using classic art materials in new ways, or using unexpected materials in surprising fashions. 

i love souther salazar's lightbulb hot-air balloons, 

and emily barletta's corporeal crochet works, 

of all the amazing young artists that i've discovered through the internet super highway over the past couple years using unique media, the artist who had my jaw dropped the furthest has to be jamie vasta. she's the perfect blend of interesting, relevant content and unique technique and execution.

jamie is a rochester, ny native who... well... works in glitter. it honestly took me a minute to believe that's what i was seeing the first time i laid eyes on one of jamie's pieces. mostly because my judgement was clouded by rapidly increasing excitement caused by the discovery. the first piece of jamie's that i saw was 2007's stepsister (see above), a claustrophobic, violent composition that seems to depict a female figure being gently garroted with a blood red sash by a placid, sisterly second figure. once i confirmed that the piece was indeed executed in carefully placed swaths of good old fashioned glitter, i checked the dimensions on the piece. somehow i was convinced that if jamie had the patience, determination and vision to execute such a complicated piece that it would have to be small in scale. i sat down heavily when i read that the piece was in fact 36"x48". the large scale of the piece only mad it seem that much more impossibly awesome.

jamie vasta, cottontail, glitter on stained panel, 30"x24"

jamie's work seems fine-tuned to my own taste in titillation. her works are powerful, dramatic, violent, and epic. and the use of glitter is at once attractive and intriguing and simultaneously sort of unnerving in its unexpectedness. i seem to reference eva hesse about fifty times a day, but her brilliant piece accession (1968) is to me the perfect example of a piece that creates an intimate relationship between attraction and repulsion. the sculpture appears from a distance to be a box lined with fur like hairs. it creates a desire to get closer, to touch the object and experience it tactilely, but upon closer inspection the hairs are actually rows and rows of sharp nails. jamie vasta's dark scenes have that same effect on me: i'm drawn in like a magpie to the shiny, nostalgic medium, and at the same time startled and unsettled by the violent, eerie imagery. 

jamie vasta, in the rushes, glitter on stained panel, 60"x48"

i love that jamie isn't afraid to be bold. her recurring theme of beheadings reminds me of one of my favorite art discussions i had in college. while learning about caravaggio and the baroque era, my professor briefly touched on artemisia gentileschi a female artist from the same period. the slide that he used was artemisia's rendition of judith slaying holnefronese. we had seen a version of the same scene by caravaggio earlier in the week, and a lively discussion ensued on the various treatments of the story, in which judith beheads holnefronese while he sleeps. though caravaggio's is masterfully painted, his judith demures even while she slices the head of the usurper, while gentileschi's judith leans heavily and determinedly on the sword causing great swaths of gore. if a woman is going to sneak past deadly guards to off someone, she's going to do it with relish. jamie vasta's murderous women are similarly gutsy in their executions. 

her most recent series, shown at patricia sweetow gallery in san francisco, entitled kills focus on scenes of young girls and their hunted prey. for me, having grown up in a veggie-loving gun-hating liberal valley, the scenes of very young girls holding rifles and carrion are shocking, but in a hilariously ironic way. their unadulterated violence (you can almost smell the blood in the snow) executed in cheeky, sparkling glitter make me smile so big it just errupts into laughter: the juxtaposition of dead animals and little girls, guns and sparkles is just too much. these pieces have exactly the character that i'm looking for in pieces for the "menace to propriety" show. they're challenging in a clever, sophisticated way without being heavy-handed or overwrought. in virginia an angelic blond of five or six smiles with the straw of her big gulp in her mouth holding a shotgun to her side that towers over her petite frame. another, bristol, seems to show a young bristol palin with her gregarious mother happily lording over the bloodied carcass of an elk. early sara palin portrait in glitter complete with gory wildlife corpse? love it. 

 

jamie vasta, becky, glitter on stained panel, 16"x20" 2008

i particularly like the fact that vasta's pieces make me empathize with a group of people i normally wouldn't have much of a connection to. i'm not much into guns or hunting, though i have no moral problem with hunting for food purposes if the animal is used appropriately and there is minimal waste. i don't know ms. vasta well enough to tell whether these pieces are meant to be mocking towards hunting culture, but the fact that these young girls all seem to be having fun reminds me that it is not my place to judge other people's past times. the faces in vasta's snapshot aesthetic compositions seem genuine. my childhood stories of wild hippy festivals and barefoot berry picking could be just as hilariously scandalous to someone who grew up in a significantly different kind of culture. 

jamie vasta, skylar and madi with geese, glitter on stained panel, 30"x40" 2008

jamie vasta, heather, glitter on stained panel, 30"x40" 2008

an earlier chapter

the krah, of 101ers crew

i wasn't always so sure that i wanted to work in the arts. when i was a kid i wanted to be a dinosaur. then it was a forensic psychologist, and then a chef... and so on. by the time i was applying for colleges, i KNEW for SURE that i wanted to be a writer, so when i got into u of o, i immediately signed up for the journalism school. three weeks into my first term, my elective art history class had swept me off my feet. it was my professor, james hurwitt, that sealed the deal. one of the world's foremost experts on the athenian acropolis, his stirring lectures on ancient antiquities transformed him into an arresting indiana jones figure, and from day one, i could see myself in his shoes. i went to the registrar and changed my major to art history with a focus on greek and minoan antiquities. 

by my second semester i had submersed myself in art history. i still took antiquities courses, but i branched out into contemporary as well. a stoic academic in my school life, i still spent my evenings on filthy couches in flop houses surrounded by graffiti. i had always loved the aesthetics of graffiti, but i didn't consider my fascination with it to be academic until i took an introductory anthropology course that centered on a research project about a type of folk art. reading over the prospectus i realized that graffiti art worked perfectly for the definition given of an folk art: done with the hands, taught through apprenticeship and oral tradition, etc. this gave me an academic framework to research graffiti with, and i took to the task immediately. it took hundreds of photos in eugene and portland, and was really pleased with the resulting project. so much so that i decided to shift the focus of my art history research to international street art (international because i needed an excuse to travel). to my surprise i found that a lot of my more classically minded professors supported my direction and passion for the project. i got a lot of help in terms of finding the right academic framework. 

athens, greece, view from lycabettus hill

when i started looking into study abroad i initially wanted to go somewhere that would have a dense concentration of street art. i thought london, paris, barcelona... but then i found a pamphlet on a program in athens, greece. the photo on the cover was sunset over the acropolis and it reminded me of the time in my life when i had first chosen to dedicate my life to art. though i knew very little about the street art scene in athens, i signed up for the program, hoping to be able to bridge the gap between my old school love of greek and minoan antiquities and my passion for street art. 

athens, greece

when i got to athens and got settled i was pleased to find that it had a thriving street art scene. the antiquities were a given. everywhere you go in athens there are monumental reminders of the city's rich history. my apartment was directly across the street from the city's first cemetery, hundreds of years old, with rows upon rows of mausoleums from various eras. my balcony had a unbeatable view of the acropolis. it was very close, and we were at an almost identical elevation, so from my hill it looked like you could reach out and touch it. sometimes i would wake up before dawn just to watch the sun rise behind the temple ruins, and the light spilling off across the city all the way down to the aegean ocean. from the rooftop of our school (a tiny academy, with a creaky, wrought iron staircase to the roof that had folding chairs and rows of billowing laundry) you could look down on the original athenean olympic track. 

alley off ermou, near pandelis melissinos, the poet sandal maker's shop

the first couple weeks i walked for miles and miles everyday, camera at the ready, and while i loved the exercise and the fresh air, athens is HOT and VERY BIG. i wasn't really getting much further than the south side of ermou, so i took to the trains. greece has a thriving native street art scene with superbly talented artists such as zoe zillion, b., qbrick, lifo, impe, woozy and several other roaming the streets of athens, and other major greek metropolises. 

ruins in the train yard at monistiraki

one of my most beloved discoveries was a huge warehouse that had been painted on all size by an impressive line-up of greek and international street artists, including os gemeos, nina, besok, stormy, bizare and woozy. a plaque in greek let me know that the project was called carpe-diem (the only part of the writing i could decipher) and when I got home and accessed the internet i was giddy to discover that the building was an artifact of a 2002 greek cultural project called carpe-diem: chromopolis. the team of street artists visited 10 greek cities and painted large scale walls, along with doing talks and hosting forums about art and graffiti. i cried a little knowing that i missed the chance to meet the speakers by a couple years, but I was happy to see that their artistic endeavors remained around the city unmolested. below are some shots of the warehouse (that i think housed an indoor bmx track):

north side of building, i'm not sure the artist. 

panorama of wall with pieces by nina and os gemeos

character amidst the os gemeos mural, maybe by same 

nunca

one of my favorite artists that i saw all over athens was an artist who wrote b. these pieces are so fun and comical. they remind me a playmobil toys, that aesthetic, and the characters b. draws remind me of those toys. 

loved this piece, this shot is extremely zoomed in, the building is actually in an empty lot surrounded by hurricane fence.

krah

krah on the left and b. on the right

b. mermaid

zoe zillion was prolific AND extremely talented. i loved her characters so much. i hunted around for her work everyday, and every time i found a new piece my heart fluttered. she often does pieces with b. 

b. and zoe zillion

b. and zoe zillion

athens local qbrick's shit was epically tight. i found this whole series of this dead bride in a neighborhood near my apartment. as i walked the streets the dead bride became more and more pregnant until in an alcove, her fetus emerged. mad creepy cool. the last piece in the series was on the same block as the b. and zoe zillion piece with the diving girl and the squid, the os gemeos molotov piece (below) and across the street was a favorite norjin piece. a very vivid city block. 

i was extremely excited to see that there were not only active female street artists in athens, keeping up with the boys, and in some case schooling them, but that athenian art was much more figurative than what i'm used to, and the woman loving greeks saw fit to depict the female form in a myriad of interesting ways. zoe zillion and norjin both had tons of great, strong female characters. 

molotov cocktail, os gemeos

norjin

athens had a surprisingly diverse and active street art scene. just writing this post and putting up these pictures makes me miss it so bad. i would love to go back in the next couple years and see how things have developed and what remains and what has grown in its place. 

"an equation of meaning" malia schuthies

malia schulthies, self portrait, mixed media on paper, 22"x30"

it was a rather strange confluence of events that led to the discovery of malia schultheis' enormous artistic talent by the outside world. a unique recipe of friendship, a long ago blind date, and professional bookkeeping services twisted the ribbon of fate that led to fenario's january-february exhibition, "an equation of meaning." we were already keenly aware, from working with her in a professional capacity, that malia was intelligent, beautiful and kind hearted. but she really pulled a rabbit from her hat when, a few months ago, she brought in a few pieces of her art to be photographed. she had never exhibited her art before, and did not come in seeking favors. but as soon as we laid our eyes on her moody, cerebral charcoals and sensual oils we knew we'd had buried treasure right beneath our feet. i think, however strange it may seem to fans of her work, she may have been a little taken aback when brent offered her a solo show. malia has a productive career already, and thought of her work more as a "hobby." some hobby. 

malia's first solo show (and first show ever of any kind!!!!) opened here at fenario january 16th. it was our first shot at hosting an opening mid-month, without the automatic crowds drawn in by first friday. while the turnout wasn't enormous, the response to the work was overwhelmingly positive, and we had the added pleasure of surprising many people who didn't know that we had an opening and drawing them in off the street like moths to a flame. people were particularly surprised to discover that is was malia's first show, citing the maturity of her style and execution as causes for their surprise at her modest exhibition history.

malia schultheis, hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil, mixed media on paper, 21"x27" (framed)

somewhere along the line, while malia was "hobbying," she developed a clear, concise artistic voice. the impressiveness of her masterful technique is matched only by the complexity of the symbolism that she uses. though malia's talent is obviously, in large part, natural, her technique matured and blossomed under the tutilage of lcc professor js bird. her teacher's influence can be seen in the mythological references and broken planes of space. malia has a  keen understanding of the use of space, and her compositions benefit from their breathing room. images rarely seem cramped, and this ease of expansiveness creates a sense of unhurried grace.

i love the play of scale in concept vs. truth. it is such a comfortable and yet unsettling territory. and being the learning sponge that i am, i particularly love the step by step origami instructions in the top quadrant of the piece. elements like this and the detailed diagrams of the various chakras in child's pose, amongst other pseudo instructions scattered across the other pieces, give a sense of knowledge being passed on without the stuffy,  patronizing feel of the academic text books some of the diagrams may have been pulled from. there is a folkloric feel about the information being disceminimated, a sense of storytelling and old lore. 

malia schultheis, concept vs. truth, mixed media on paper, 21"x27" (framed)

malia's recurring motifs of origami, scientific diagrams, and disembodied text remind me in an oddly pleasant way of my favorite UK artist suzy q and the owls. their approach is wildly different, and yet they achieve similar visual dialects. malia's work is much softer compared to suzy's geometric graphic design inspired aesthetic, and yet mirrored themes run like a seem between their two bodies of work. its fascinating to think about complex ideas and styles such as theirs developing simultaneously on opposite sides of the earth. ( isn't that what happened with the telephone?) i asked malia if she knew suzy's work, but she'd never seen it. simply a case of serendipity. perhaps there is some kind of greater artistic atmosphere surrounding the planet that only the most creative have large enough dreams to tap into? 

malia's work is infused with elements of biology, storytelling, and spirituality. her pieces are extraordinarily personal, and at times the viewer feels voyeuristic in peeking into the details of malia's life laid bare. we can trace the blueprint of the home she lives in with her son kai, read words of heartbreak traced down the arch of a figure's back, and in these acts we share in the artist's experiences. i admire the spirit of openness and honesty that malia embraces in her art. that level of personal revelation in art is what makes work skip past good to great.

malia schultheis, child's pose, mixed media diptych on paper, 34"x29"ma

 we had malia's grand opening this last first friday february 6th. we had a fantastic turnout, and again the response to the work was very positive. malia's art inspired discussion and contemplation in just the way that i had hoped. for me, that is one of the greatest powers of art, is its ability to inspire dialogue. and with malia's work, there is plenty to talk about. overall i think that the show was very strong, and considering her lack of gallery experience, i think the show borders on virtuosity. 

malia schultheis, mother culture, oil on canvas, 24"x24"

whooooowie!!!

this is so me, i love how she even has a cocktail and converse, i just wish that me in dog form wasn't quite so rolly. and i would think twice about napping in public with that hat.

i like how posting this picture right below my now infamous "party kitty" photo is starting to make me look like one of those weirdo pet people. no folks, i don't buy halloween costumes for my dog (though he would look seriously handsome). 

i know, i know. i have been slacking on the posting recently. 

i'd give you a laundry list of excuses, but the truth of the matter is i've been busy... which makes me tired. oregon winters are dark... i mean really dark. it makes you feel like a black bear, you just want to find a hollow log and go hibernate. if it weren't for this pesky thing called work, and her sister whore ambition i'd be paws deep in a pine needle lined cave right now.

the malia schultheis show at the gallery has been getting really positive responses. sales are slow, but it is not only malia's first solo show, it's her first show EVER, so i take the good word of mouth to be reward enough at the moment (though her work is so strong and priced so shockingly low, there is a part of me that just wants to shout "what are you thinking people?! get it while you still can!!"). i'm working on a review of the show, but since work seems like all i've been doing lately, it is slow going. i have the next two days off, so i'll get it posted this week. 

i've also got an interview with nathan spoor on the way, and some reviews and q+a sessions coming up with a few of the artists for the "menace to propriety" group show, that for various reasons had to be pushed up to may (insert the sound of nail biting here). since the group show got moved up i have to pick up the pace with that, as well as keep my head in the game and get to promoting the solo show my boss booked for next month, and the two person show that i landed for april (my beautiful angelic artists are being so darn patient and flexible, good on 'em). soooooooo... i've got several months of shows to keep working on, portfolios to review, interviews to conduct, networking to do and sometime in all that i have to try to sleep... without over sleeping.

and just when i thought my plate couldn't get any fuller, i got asked to be an expert panelist for an upcoming exhibit at the jordan schnitzer art museum, a HUGE honor, and i'll be working with people in the field who i greatly admire, like larry fong the head contemporary curator at the museum, and ms. kennedy of p.i.c.a. 

even though i'm exhausted often, i feel very inspired by all the recent activity. i had this weird period last year where i felt like my life was in limbo and i was just waiting for something to happen. the recent flurry of activity feels like the beginning of something, and i can't wait to see where it takes me. all i have to do is try to keep my eyes open, and stay grateful.