I have spent the last few years doing a lot of painting, without publicly exhibiting anything. Partially COVID lockdown, partially avoidance of finding a proper gallery after years away from showing.
I was thrilled to connect with Marla Rice this Spring at Rice Polak Gallery, in Provincetown, MA. Marla runs an amazing space, is passionate about art and is deeply ingrained in the Provincetown scene.
Going so long without thinking about exhibiting publicly, my approach to painting naturally evolved in somewhat of an insular vacuum. During this time, I drifted from obsessively depicting cowboys, then American Revolution figures, to an eventual assortment of people that inhabit a loosely unspecific era. The evolution was slow, and I never tried to force a beginning or end to any one phase of things.
What do these paintings mean? I get asked this from time to time. I can tell you what might have originally sparked each phase of things - frustration with American gun culture, fascination with our nation’s imperfect and messy foundational roots, memories of playing with toy cowboys and soldiers as a child, etc. But none of this captures a clear and singular source of reference and inspiration.
Truth is, whatever originally sparked me incorporating these elements into my work has certainly morphed as I continue to work. Cowboys, Red Coats, suspendered laborers, families in shared costume - these characters have become my friends, living, playing together, fighting in my brain, spilling out naturally and sometimes chaotically onto panels. My therapist has ideas for what this all means - what each type of character represents as a part of my personality. Maybe he’s right? In the end, I turn over any meaning to the person who takes the time to look at my work. Intent is ultimately just one part of the life of a piece of art.