My studio practice encompasses 2 different, but related bodies of work. Both involve my response to, and engagement with, the world around me. Likewise, both employ a process that unifies them visually and metaphorically. This process is a unique paint or ink application technique that I call a “Snap Line”. A “Snap Line” is made by dipping cotton twine into thinned acrylic paint or ink and snapping a taut line onto the support. It is the springboard from which I begin my drawings. It is the color field behind my large acrylic and resin paintings. The “snap line” is a record of the violent impact of paint with support. It suggests an event, an explosion, a reverberation, yet the over spray lends a softness to the line quality that reminds me of dry point intaglio. I like the idea that something beautiful on the surface has an underlying violence, a dark side, if you will.
In one body of my work I use a computer (a non-traditional painter’s tool) to repeat images that I stitch together visually in order to make an appealing pattern, often resulting in tapestry-like, spatially flattened compositions. This references pre-Renaissance and/or non-western methods of pictorial organization, for storytelling purposes, that were used in textiles, ceramics, and architectural decoration. This particular use of juxtaposed images, stacked and repeated, is a unique addition to the visual language of painting in the 21st century. Through decorative patterning, the work of art draws the viewer into a slowly unfurling narrative that invites a discussion about ecology and/or sociopolitical realities of the contemporary world around us. Meaning is implied by the juxtaposition of images, not stated in narrative fashion. Conclusions are left to the viewer in the hope that a continued questioning will be inspired by the work of art.
These images are exhibited in several formats. I frame the digital prints on rag paper to a finished size of about 20” x 24”. I enlarge the images and combine them with acrylic paint, vinyl, and resin on panel for paintings approximately 48” in one direction. Or for very large installation work, I apply vinyl directly on the walls or windows of a gallery space. (These have variable dimensions). I find that exhibitions which combine all three formats are the most visually interesting and shed light on the evolving creative process in my practice. I am not adverse to exhibiting only one format, however.
The second body of work consists of large ink and wash drawings on rag paper. Since my move to Detroit in 2009, I have been working on a series of drawings titled, “Frontline: Detroit”, that depicts the remains of buildings that were once signifiers of the culture here. On my large white sheets of paper they float, disembodied. I believe that I was attracted to these hulks because of their formal qualities. I could see these skeletons of buildings as drawings of line and shadow. I begin each drawing with a “snap line”. They are more portrait than landscape. I increasingly refer to them as “bones” that speak to the decline of the American Dream.
As I look for the buildings to serve as my models, I have found that they are not only in Detroit. I have begun to notice them all across the country. There are bones of regional cultures that dot the countryside along Route 66. There are ruins of motels, gas stations and, actually, whole towns.
I have expanded this “Frontline” series of drawings by tying the urban ruins of Detroit to those across the country. The scope has become a visual probe into the national decline of the American Dream through drawings of the urban and rural ruins across the country.
In one body of my work I use a computer (a non-traditional painter’s tool) to repeat images that I stitch together visually in order to make an appealing pattern, often resulting in tapestry-like, spatially flattened compositions. This references pre-Renaissance and/or non-western methods of pictorial organization, for storytelling purposes, that were used in textiles, ceramics, and architectural decoration. This particular use of juxtaposed images, stacked and repeated, is a unique addition to the visual language of painting in the 21st century. Through decorative patterning, the work of art draws the viewer into a slowly unfurling narrative that invites a discussion about ecology and/or sociopolitical realities of the contemporary world around us. Meaning is implied by the juxtaposition of images, not stated in narrative fashion. Conclusions are left to the viewer in the hope that a continued questioning will be inspired by the work of art.
These images are exhibited in several formats. I frame the digital prints on rag paper to a finished size of about 20” x 24”. I enlarge the images and combine them with acrylic paint, vinyl, and resin on panel for paintings approximately 48” in one direction. Or for very large installation work, I apply vinyl directly on the walls or windows of a gallery space. (These have variable dimensions). I find that exhibitions which combine all three formats are the most visually interesting and shed light on the evolving creative process in my practice. I am not adverse to exhibiting only one format, however.
The second body of work consists of large ink and wash drawings on rag paper. Since my move to Detroit in 2009, I have been working on a series of drawings titled, “Frontline: Detroit”, that depicts the remains of buildings that were once signifiers of the culture here. On my large white sheets of paper they float, disembodied. I believe that I was attracted to these hulks because of their formal qualities. I could see these skeletons of buildings as drawings of line and shadow. I begin each drawing with a “snap line”. They are more portrait than landscape. I increasingly refer to them as “bones” that speak to the decline of the American Dream.
As I look for the buildings to serve as my models, I have found that they are not only in Detroit. I have begun to notice them all across the country. There are bones of regional cultures that dot the countryside along Route 66. There are ruins of motels, gas stations and, actually, whole towns.
I have expanded this “Frontline” series of drawings by tying the urban ruins of Detroit to those across the country. The scope has become a visual probe into the national decline of the American Dream through drawings of the urban and rural ruins across the country.