Luke Anderson and Taylor Crisp – The Colour and the Shape: Two New Views of the West

Hello out there. George Irwin from Western Gallery here on the Horizons by Western Gallery podcast. Today's episode is really special. I'm not interviewing anybody in this episode. Instead, Luke Anderson and Taylor Crisp are interviewing each other about the work they have been producing for the upcoming show, The Color and the Shape: Two New Views of the West, that will be opening on September 10th at western.gallery. So if you're a fan of either of these artists, it's worth a listen, and I hope you enjoy.

All right, so yes, how have you approached, uh, putting together your body of work for this show, Taylor?

I've never really had a body of work before. It's always just been like painting by painting. If it works, it does. If it doesn't, that's fine, let's move on to the next one. So this was interesting trying to find the thematic thing to draw them together. And I guess what that's been is a sense of solitude. It's all just like solitary figures against like a Western landscape, just that individualistic idea of like the American West, kind of what seems to be coming out. And it wasn't really intentional. It's just, it's all like man against this really majestic, huge sense of nature partnered with an animal like a horse, donkey or whatever. But that just seems to be what has come out. And then style-wise, I'm really trying to push an exaggerated sense of scale in a lot of them and dynamism and atmosphere and things. I'm just trying to work on pushing myself as an artist through this show, like through the paintings I'm doing in this. And a lot of that is just going back through a lot of like my inspirations, different artists that I really love, seeing what drew me to what they've done, incorporating that into mine, just having a sense of West that's like exaggerated, but through the exaggeration you find the truth in that way rather than like pure realism. It's like a mix of things. How about you?

Yes, similar. I've never been in a situation where I've had to put together 7 to 9 works of art really to be shown cohesively at one time. So it has been— it was definitely a challenge for me. I think at this point I have everything at least has been started now. So I have a pretty good sense of what it'll look like. And yeah, I tried really hard at the beginning to be like, to come up with one theme that would sort of carry through. And I think it was, it was sort of especially difficult because when George first approached me about this show, I already had this one piece done that he, he came to me and was like, I'd like to have this show that sort of revolves around this one piece, which is one that I'd— at this point it's been over a year since I finished that one and my work has already changed a lot since then. So I definitely struggle a lot with, do I need to try and come up with complementary works that are in the same vein or just kind of do what my instinct tells me? And I ultimately just followed my artistic instinct. And that first piece was, is a pronghorn animal wildlife-focused piece. And by the end, Everything I was doing was landscape. That's just where I was going. Just creatively was purely just a landscape without humans or wildlife. That was at this point feels more true to my experience in the West. So that was what was tugging at my creativity bone.

It was interesting to think of it as kind of like a snapshot of us in this moment in time as artists and how it's even changed within that one year since we thought about the show to now. Especially considering like started in like deep quarantine and now moving out of quarantine and that kind of sense of like isolation moving toward getting back to people again. So you kind of see that through the work a little bit. And you also see just since we are like younger artists emerging, like your style and your ability really changes like piece to piece. So you can, I think at least in my body work, you can see that just piece to piece, you can kind of tell which came first and what is at the last. Hopefully it's a constant upward progression and not just like this, but—

Yeah, no, that's so true. I'm exactly the same way. Like, at this stage, we're still trying to find out who we are as artists and as painters. And yeah, each one is trying out something new. And I think that you'll definitely see that evolution in my work for sure. So, and yeah, same. I hope that it's gotten more sophisticated since the beginning.

There's always pieces in each piece of work or whatever where you're like, I love this part. If I could just translate that and just combine all the best parts of all these paintings into one painting, it would be perfect. But it's like, oh, this corner is garbage, but I don't want to keep working on it because then you're just going to ruin it. It's like, yeah, move on. Abandon it.

Yeah, right. One of my pieces is actually a rework of a piece that I painted in 2019. It was one of these that I did it and like was satisfied with it then and sent it to a show and nothing came of it. And I got it back and was like, I really like the main subject of this painting, but the setting environment didn't work at all. So I I totally reconfigured the surroundings and created a new painting of it. So yeah, the show sort of spans even further back for me in that way.

That's really cool. I wish I could do that. Like once a painting's done for me, I literally, like I said, abandon it. Like I don't even want to look at it ever again, kind of. But I was reading at the Huntington Library and I don't know if you know the painting Blue Boy. He's like wearing the old-fashioned like cravat and like a blue suit or whatever. It's a famous— I don't know, era, 17-something. But they recently did a restoration, and then actually that they did showed that he had like a dog in the corner and that there's like a dude's face in the top because he reused canvas. And it's like, people have been doing this for hundreds of years, and I just have never been able to do that. And this is a major work of art that's like known across the globe, and there's just like a random dog that's been painted over in the corner. It's like, I can't do it. I can't look at it ever again. That's funny, I don't know what that is.

I assume that you keep digital records of your work, you know, your photographs and whatever. Do you ever go back to look at stuff you did years ago with a newly critical eye and revisit it? And do you always hate it then after a couple years, or are you like, "I can see that was actually pretty good," you know?

I mean, it depends. Like, I didn't really start painting even until 2015, so the progression has been so drastic. Just from then. So I look at something from 2015 and it's like pure trash. But I mean, there's pieces in it that I appreciate. I was learning, I didn't know what I was doing. Still don't know what I'm doing a little bit better. But like, once I finish a piece, like immediately I hate it and occasionally come back to it and appreciate parts of it. And there's like some, a few specific paintings that I still kind of think are good. But I mean, overall I usually am very self-critical. So like, as soon as the last, as soon as my signature goes on, it's like trash. I hate, can't look at it, put it on Instagram and look away. Right. But it's that kind of urge to be, I guess that makes me want to keep painting because it's like, okay, the next one's going to be better, the next one's going to be better. So I think if I did love it, then I would plateau a little harder. So maybe it's—

I mean, I think it, yeah, it describes a little bit of like an insanity almost. I think that we have to have as artists. Yeah, it's like you believe, you have to convince yourself and believe that the next one will be better and perfect, even though you know that it won't.

Yeah.

Like deep down, we always know that it won't be, but we still like delude ourselves into thinking that it will be. And I think that's where we grow.

Yeah. But that makes it nice to have like a platform like Instagram where you get to see that other people do appreciate it, even though on the inside you hate something and like, well, someone got something out of it. Like even if they don't think it's beautiful, but they think it's interesting or thought-provoking, it's like, well, that's kind of the purpose of art. So it's nice to have that kind of feedback, like Funhouse Mirror, to say there's something in this. Other people are seeing it. You're not just kind of like creating this in your little hole in the wall.

Yeah, that's true. That's true. Well, do you have a favorite color right now? Either a tube color or like just a mix that you really, really like and that just shows up in everything you do?

I mean, I tend to really like this pale. Let me actually see what the color is. It's kind of like a halfway color. It's cheating. Yeah, it's like Radiant Green. It's one of those like kind of weird colors that's not on anyone's palette and you probably shouldn't use, but I just like what it does to everything. And green is so hard for me that I feel like I like this little shortcut, and it always feels like it kind of lightens things up and it's really vibrant, and I can't seem to get it any other way, so it's kind of a cheat. But I think he's about that.

Yeah, I use intermediate tube colors too, like especially with like Viridian is one that I use because like you just can't, you can't mix a Viridian Green from, you know, from blue and yellow. So yeah, I think that's totally— I don't, I don't think there's anything wrong with that. I wouldn't call it cheating.

Yeah, I mean, as long as I guess the result is what you want, it doesn't really matter how you get there. But are you using the Zorn palette and you're like, I don't know how to do it?

Yeah, I mean, then that's— I think that has a specific aesthetic on its own and like if that's what you're going for. But I think if that's not the aesthetic you're going for, then I don't see why not use all the tools that are available.

Yeah, I mean, you're not going to get like Starry Night, so it's like, which do you want?

Good example, good example. Are you using that green like only in green objects, or do you use it in other mixes too?

I mean, since a lot of what I do is trial and error because I don't have a background in art, I feel like I overmix. I use a lot more colors than I should to get to the color that I'm actually looking for. So I probably use it in a lot of things. Like, how— what's your approach to color?

I mean, I also don't have any professional training or anything in painting. I'm also the trial and error, self-taught approach. And I don't use a limited palette, really. I have a standard set of colors that I keep in like a 24-well like sealable watercolor palette that I then— I keep them all filled and then I just store it in the freezer when I don't use it to slow it from, from drying, keeping it, keep it fresh. Yeah, because I have ever since I've started painting, I've had this huge like little nitpicky obsession with trying to like limit as much waste as I possibly can in my artistic practice, and a lot of that started with the paint because like one, oil paint, especially as a beginner, is really expensive. And so I was always trying to come up with ways not to waste it. And so I didn't like the idea of always like squirting out 8 or 10 colors on a palette in the open air and leaving that out. And then I also found it sort of like tiring to, and sort of breaking my flow if I was always like looking through my drawer of colors to pick out a specific one when I needed it. So I just sort of whittled it down to maybe like, I don't know, 12 or 15 ones that I use in most paintings. And there's a few, a few colors that I don't use very often and I'll squirt out a little bit when I need it. But yeah, I made actually, I think it was like 2017, I made several of these color mixing charts based off of like the, some of the more common tube colors, mixing them all with all the other ones that I had so I could like use this as a reference if I had a color in mind, then I could sort of consult this chart and then I'd have a sort of cheat sheet of how to mix that color. But like, I know that sometimes I probably do more than I need to with mixing, but as long as I get there in the end.

I've always had a reusable palette, so I do the same thing where I put it in the freezer, but then a lot of the times it smells like whatever's in the freezer. So I'm like, yeah, in like 100 years gonna smell like frozen french fries.

I have the same thing, like some of my favorite jars for my mediums are the little like pickled minced garlic jars. So like all my medium smells like really strong garlic.

Yeah, it's like whatever. You don't smell the painting, just step back, step back. So yeah, so next question, what is your most underrated studio tool?

It's just this little like 12 by 12 inch mirror which I use to step back and look at my painting and insert reflection. And that, I feel like it breaks you when you're working on a painting and you're staring at it for hours on end, you get so used to seeing it in that one way. And I think it starts to get easy to overlook some things because you get so used to seeing it like that. And so using the mirror And flipping the composition just automatically gives you a fresh— like you're looking at it with fresh eyes, and then issues pop out that need fixing, and it becomes easier to see things like that. Reduces the composition to this like very small manageable size in a weird way. Makes me look at it a little more like holistically. So I would say—

With the likeness of a portrait, that happens a lot where you're like, I can't figure out what I'm not seeing correctly. And then you put it in the mirror, you're like, Oh yeah, like it's obvious, it's like this one line is way off, but like you don't see it until you get your mind out of that.

Yeah, totally. I think that's when I started using it was when I was doing a really big ambitious painting with a lot of figures in it. I think that's when I really started seeing the value in it. How about you?

So mine, I guess I've made a moss— keep letting go.

Oh yeah.

I didn't feel like paying like $100 for something I could make, so you can see it, just a piece of cork and a dowel, it works.

Yeah, here's my dowel mahl stick as well. I didn't even put the cork on it though, it's just covered with paint from where it scratches the top of the canvas. That was like my little duct tape handle.

Nice.

Yeah, I didn't even know what a mahl stick was called when I made it. I knew that they existed, but I I didn't know there was a term for it.

Yeah, I think the same thing. I'm like, oh, what's that really handy stuff that people use to keep their hand up? I guess I could make it. Yeah. It turns out it's probably like $60. So that was good. Yeah.

All right, well, pose the next one then. What do you think is one of the unique challenges that we face as young emerging artists in this specific time? 21st century social media boom, this world?

I mean, I guess it's because the thing with Instagram is it's kind of like a double-edged sword in that like it's really helpful. Like a lot of people wouldn't have seen the work that I do if it didn't exist, but at the same time it kind of values production and quantity over quality. So like, like a single image doesn't have the same impact, I guess, as it used to because like you're always looking for like the next dopamine hit. So you're like, the next image, the next like meme, the next whatever, it's gonna be on Instagram. So you constantly have to have that scroll. So I think that's especially with oil painting, like I'm sure digital artists still have the same thing, but it's a little easier when you crank out something in like a few days rather than like a month. But like with oil painting, you're like, I've worked so long in this thing and then you have one chance to get out into the world and then it's like forgotten after that. So that's the thing going forward that you have to think about in general.

Yeah, yeah, totally. I would agree with that. I also think that— and I don't want to pick on Instagram too much, but like, that is our platform as artists nowadays. And I think that what's happened is that like anybody who has any kind of like creative marketable skill, whether it's fine art or or like, you know, leather crafting and craftsmanship is like in this Instagram marketplace world now, suddenly everybody, if you have that, I feel like there's an expectation that if you're on the platform, you should be selling it too. That if you're making it, it should also be for sale. And I think that one thing that happened to me, and I think happens to a lot of young artists who are getting started now is feeling that pressure to sell and be a professional, like, before— too soon, before you really should be, or before you're ready for it, before you— before your work is ready for it, is good enough, before you are ready for it as an adult, as a human. So I think that's one challenge, is knowing— is like being able to resist that and then knowing when, when it's a good time to actually take that step. Because anybody who has an artist account on Instagram, it's— if somebody random comes along and finds that, they're gonna presume that you're a professional. And then, so I think that's a— it's a fine line that I think that's a new, a new challenge.

Yeah, for sure. Because I mean, if you look at my Instagram account, like, the name is Snowchickenfeeb, you because that was just my Instagram. And then I started painting for fun and just kind of put them on there. And then like people were responding and like, oh, like, should I have started this as like a professional account? But like when people were responding, it wasn't at the level that I would have sold it 'cause it wasn't good enough yet. So yeah, like I said.

Yeah, same. Like mine started out not as a professional account either. It was just my personal one.

Yeah.

I think I did change my handle once or twice. Once it became clear that this is gonna be my professional thing and not my personal.

Yeah, I only like just added like a few months ago. I was just like anonymous, it's just like the paintings, they stand on their own, but it's like, okay, I should probably put my name in there.

Yeah, I'm always tempted to like start something like that that's just totally under an alias and it's just like really weird stuff that's just not what I usually do, but I think it would be fun to have an anonymous art account like that.

Didn't Maynard Dixon do that? He had like Norwok or something. It was like a Polish name. It was just like weird stuff and like—

Yeah, I'm sure it's more common than most people think.

Yeah, you're just like, I don't want the pressure of expectation. I just want to paint something weird.

Yeah, I think the other social media internet-specific challenge that we face in our generation of artists. I think that we have more than, more so than any other generation of artists in the past, we have access to as much art and inspiration as we possibly can handle. Like, I think artist generations of the past really were only seeing art if it was like in person at a museum or maybe some print reproductions. But I think we are like so bombarded now with other artists' work. I think that that poses a challenge to us in a unique way to sift through that and being able to come up with our own vision and voice while trying to like sift through that and find ourselves in that much more inspirational noise, I guess. I don't know if that makes sense.

No, totally, because like I'm sure in the past, like you hear, you read a lot of like artist biographies and they're like, they went to a salon show, the specific artist, and then like their whole style changed, their whole outlook on, I guess, like artistic process. But now it's like we have that every day on Instagram, just like these kind of defining moments, but there are so many that they blur and become diluted. And it's like, where was the pure inspiration? I guess like what actually is the artistic output that's coming from you? And do you know it's coming from you or it's coming from like all these things that you see every day? So yeah, right.

Yeah, yeah, that's a bit— that's a better summation of what I was trying to say. I faced that since I started, and I think that with the more artists now on Instagram, like, the harder it's getting. I think it is— I think it is useful, like, for me to just log out and take breaks for a while and just like step back and try and be in my own world for extended periods of time. I don't know if you do anything like that.

Yeah, I think just going out in nature helps with that a little bit. You're just like, all these people that you're getting inspiration from, they got it from someone who originally got it from like being outside. So it's like, if I could go back to that source, maybe that'll help kind of like clear out the mucus of inspiration.

Yeah. That's, that's a, yeah, that's a good point.

Yeah.

And I still try to make efforts to see art in person as much as I can. Um, and that's a little bit easier for me now living in a more populated area than Southeast Wyoming was here now in the Salt Lake area.

Oh yeah. You have amazing museums there. I keep wanting to get to Salt Lake.

Yeah. I stopped at the, the BYU Museum of Art. Last week, and they have several Maynard Dixons there, actually, which makes sense because he lived in Utah. But so yeah, I just— even, but even just like local galleries, just seeing work in person is still the best way to see it.

I mean, that was one of the things I missed most during like really hard quarantine. They'd have like online shows and stuff, but there's like the first show I went to after things opened up, I think was Laguna Museum of Art. And it was just kind of like the essence of paintings. And it was like a Grandville Redmond show or something. And it was just like incredible atmosphere and the color. And you can almost feel like you're like, you could smell it. And it's just like, it's so different from seeing it online. So I was really excited. Which is funny because we're doing online shows.

I was just gonna say, it's sort of ironic that we're having this conversation. But we go to all these lengths now to to try and mimic that experience as much as we can. I think, just like every other industry that suddenly had to make changes, there have been great strides made in the last year that would have taken 10, 15, 20 years otherwise.

And it really democratizes, I guess, the experience of seeing art in some ways, because like you said, when you lived in Wyoming, you didn't have the opportunity, but now more galleries will have those walkthroughs. Things. So like, you're living in Colorado where I come from, there's not a museum for miles, so it's like, I would love to have an LA gallery show that I can walk through.

Yeah, that's true.

That's nice.

What is one painting you did that you can think of that you thought, maybe, maybe I've got something here, maybe I could do this more than just as a hobby? Hmm, maybe this is a tough one for you.

That's like I don't know. I mean, I guess it might be the first one that I got into like any kind of show. It was like a fire lookout dude and I submitted to, what's it called, the Santa Paula Museum of Art, which is like a small town near Los Padres Mountain Range and it was accepted and just having the acceptance was kind of a big thing for me. 'Cause it's like, it's really hard to know as an artist, like to look at your own work and to tell if it's effective or not, or if you're completely delusional. Like, there's a whole subreddit called like Delusional Artists, and you're like, am I going to be on that someday, please?

I don't know.

But then to have like an acceptance that it's like, okay, like I'm not terrible, terrible, like someone likes it. So that was a big turning point, I think.

Yeah, it's helpful at various points. And I think to have that external validation— Wyoming used to have a statewide jury art exhibition every year. It was called the Wyoming Governor's Capitol Arts Exhibition, I think. And the show was held at the State Museum and it was like sort of a big deal. And I think the first year I submitted that, I got in and that was the same thing. That sort of like little bit of validation that helps just like nudge you a little bit.

I mean, that kind of starts from like the beginning, like as a kid, like, I don't know if there's any such thing as being like inherently good at art,. But like when I was little, I probably did a stick figure horse and someone was like, oh Taylor, that's really good. I'm like, really? So then you just keep doing it until it's kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy and then you become better. But then you hear some people who are like, I can't draw a stick figure. And it's like, well, someone told you you could when you were like 5, maybe you'd be a great artist now. So validation is important.

Yeah, they weren't like, oh, that stick figure horse is really derivative, Taylor, you should maybe And it probably was, I was probably copying like, weird Stallion and Cimarron. Yeah, I think there's a bunch of different versions of this idea of like, art is not so much inherent talent as much as it is the product of passion and hard work.

Mm-hmm, that's why I always think like, anyone can technically paint or draw, you just have to do it and just keep doing it and push through the hatred of yourself and your work.

Yeah, I mean, especially in this modern and postmodern age of, non-representational art. Like, somebody says they can't draw, that's not a good excuse to not be an artist.

Pressure. So, um, do you have any favorite historical artists or influences, like, in terms of movements?

Yeah, my earliest, when I was first getting into oil painting more seriously, it was like 2015, 2016. Yeah, but my, like, even going back to when I was in like high school. I loved the Impressionists and the Post-Impressionists, and Van Gogh was my favorite painter. And when I was in high school, the Denver Art Museum had a special Van Gogh exhibition, which was one of the biggest collections of his work all in one place outside of the Netherlands or wherever. So just seeing those works in person, seeing Van Gogh work in person, is uncomparable to an image, a reproduction of it, because of the application of the paint. And then I went through a period, and these are all still part of, part of my, my inspirational bag, but I was really into the Abstract Expressionists for a while, and then like the pop artists of the '60s. Those are some, some of the big ones. And it wasn't really until the last like 3 or 4 years that I discovered the, the Taus Society and some of the other like Western modernists, the Canadian Group of Seven, those, those painters. So that's sort of like the broad, the broad list. Yeah, I mean, I was really into like cartoons and comics. I was, I was a huge consumer of comic strips when I was a kid. So like Bill Watterson is one of my all-time favorite artist/philosophers, the Calvin Hobbes artist.

That's funny, I had a similar kind of progression because like when I was younger it was like anime manga, so like that's what I was doing like everyone else in their notebooks, but the big thing kind of came the same time. It was 2015 and I was in Boulder and I went to— is it like Leaning Tree Museum of Art? I think they sold everything, I think it closed, but they had this giant Ed Mell painting And it was the kind of thing where I got angry because I'm like, I want— I don't know if I want to own this or want to have made it. It's kind of a weird conflict there. So I'm like, I think I want to make it. So then I kind of researched him a lot. And no offense to Ed Mell because he's obviously amazing. But then I heard about his influences and he mentioned Maynard Dixon. And then it was just like, this is what I want to do. Like, this is amazing. This is everything I've ever felt about the West kind of like put on canvas perfectly. Just that kind of like simplicity and it's like a sense of realism without being like hotel art, if that makes sense. Like I've never really loved like extreme realism in painting. I appreciate the art of it, but like Dixon found a way to be like the perfect clarity of light and it's like realistic, but it's like, it's two lines. It's like, how did you do that? And then the most impactful show that I saw, Steve Martin actually brought Loren Harris over to the Hammer Museum, like a really big retrospective of his work. And I've never felt like I was gonna cry in a museum before until I saw his painting.

Oh wow, that's cool.

Like, this is what painting should be. It's like, it expresses the experience of being in these kind of like Arctic places, like the really far north. So I've always been kind of drawn to that simplicity of style and clarity of intention and really capturing something without being realistic.

It's interesting, your story made me think more about my own experience because like, I don't think I even knew that Western art was really its own genre even until a couple years ago. And when I was first starting painting, I was like, without that conception of Western art being a thing, I was mostly like a landscape painter because that was what was around. I was painting Western landscapes because that's what I grew up with. That's what it was like around. It was just, that was my experience. And so I think like in some ways it was sort of like I defaulted to that because I was painting landscapes and I live in the West. And then as I got like deeper and deeper into it, I realized that it was its own thing. But it's interesting. I've done this a couple of times where I'll like look back at the pictures that I took at the Denver Art Museum when I was a kid and looking Looking back now, the things maybe that stood out to me when I was like 13 or 14 or 15 is really interesting because I have pictures of like Victor Higgins and Bloom and Shine. And I don't know if it was on loan or if it's part of their permanent collection, but they had that— Maynard Dixon did that like 3-panel—

Yeah, like the Red Canyon wall.

Yeah, and they had that and like I had— I took a picture of that. And so it's interesting to go back and see that like even then I had no context as to like who those artists were or what their movement was, but they were just things that on a pure aesthetic basis like stood out to me. And I think that that's pretty telling, I think, of where I ended up.

It's like, I always wonder like what comes first, is it the West inspires the style that I'm attracted to? Or is it, 'cause like I grew up like riding horses and stuff and was in 4-H and like, FFA and that kind of thing. Okay, it's like, is that the reason or is it the subject? Because like, I'm not specifically drawn to like cowboys, but I like, I draw about, like, paint a lot of them. It's like, what came first exactly? Like, why is it people who paint in other genres, so a lot of the time their style doesn't fit me and it's not necessarily the subject?

Yeah, that's a good question. Maybe there's just this common ethereal thread that links this group of artists who paint specifically out in this region. I don't know. But I think that's maybe one reason why I've sort of gravitated back towards landscape was I think for a couple years I was just like overloaded and going crazy and in this deep dive into the Western art world. And I did, like I have painted a lot of, or several, several cowboys and cowboy imagery and stuff like that, which I think they were fun and important works for me. But I think what I'm realizing now a little bit is that I'm coming back to what my original connection with the West was, which was just me out alone in a landscape and experiencing the world a little bit. So I think that's why by the end of this show, my works were just purely landscape, which I guess we already kind of covered this next question, why do you think you were drawn into Western art?

What I was kind of thinking in that sense, because the next question I guess is like, what other art forms have the greatest impact on you and your work? And as you were saying, you're wanting to kind of get back to what inspired you and like what landscape and stuff, but a lot of what inspires me is like also being in film because I like work in development and I've always kind of been obsessed with like cinema as an art form. So a lot of my stuff I feel like becomes very narrative. So I almost feel like something's missing. Like I don't know if I've ever done a pure landscape. So I'm always like, well, there has to be the figure against landscape to give a story or like scale. So it's kind of an interesting thing going forward to be like, well, how can I get that same narrative sense with like a completely empty landscape scene. Because there's obviously shots in film that are landscape that have that story element to it for somehow, whether it's like smoke in the distance or like a blood-red sky or sea, you know, like some sailors are gonna have a bad time. It's like that's a narrative element.

So yeah, that's really just— I honestly never thought about that way before as to why maybe some people are drawn away from just the straight landscape without a subject, but that makes a lot of sense. I think, yeah, I really like language too. So like, I like to do a lot with my titling to add or suggest extra layers of context and meaning and narrative as well. That's another tool that we have in our paintings is our titles to sort of sway the viewer in one way or another. But yeah, I definitely take a lot of inspiration from animation and cartoons. I've always been drawn to animation. Animation and 3D and claymation and stuff like that. Just, there's such a boldness to those mediums that obviously there's a connection with this Western artistic aesthetic that we talked about in terms of like massing and form and simplicity.

Yeah.

So I definitely draw inspiration from that. I try to draw inspiration from Tex too, which I think is that connection also to narrative as well.

Yeah, it's funny because I mean, I write for a living, but I've never— I'm like the opposite of you in that the titles, like, I've never spent a lot of time on titles. Like, it's always kind of an afterthought. And for this one, I'm going to try more to like actually have meaning and maybe have kind of some kind of through line for the titles for each piece. Yeah, it's never been something that I really— it's always kind of like a thing that it happens at the end, and like, I know I have to title it. But I don't know if it's because I write all day or what.

Are you more— are you sort of of the philosophy that the visual work should sort of stand on its own in that visual medium and the meaning and the narrative should come across purely visually, or?

In some ways, I mean, there's examples of type— I can't think of them now, but examples of titles that give a whole other way to look at a painting, which happens a lot with some historical works. I mean, it adds a depth to it, so I can see the use for it and why it's something I should work on. But my favorite paintings, a lot of the time I won't even know the name of it. I'll just feel like it's this one that gave me this experience, this feeling. And the name is something like Sunny Day on This Plateau that I've never been to and probably will never be to. But it's like, I know this exists kind of apart from that and the location that it was painted in. It's just kind of like, it's its own thing in some ways. But I can see both sides and why I'm going to try and work on titles from now on, for sure.

Yeah. I was just curious what your philosophy was there.

Cool. Is there something that you have learned that you feel like was kind of a breakthrough in terms of like style or technique?

Yeah, there have been a lot, a lot of mistakes. There's so much that I think that taking the self-taught approach is sort of a double-edged sword. I think it's been enjoyable to develop on your own time and your own terms a little bit and find your own way, but there's a lot of stuff just like purely basic technique-wise that maybe took me 2 or 3 years to figure out that somebody could have just told me in like a day and then I would have been like good to go from there. So I think it took me maybe a year or so to figure out just like the basic fat over lean principles, like basic technical stuff of oil painting. At the beginning, I wasn't doing any underpainting as I was just drawing in pencil and then painting directly on top of that. And then I was like, why are my pencil lines bleeding through the oil paint. Yeah, just like stuff like that that if somebody had just told me once—

Yeah, if you have the course working, like, that's day 3 and you're like, okay, got it.

But then on the other side, I've felt a little bit like more free to try weirder stuff, I guess. I think my first couple years I was definitely much less technically proficient with painting, and so I think my concepts and designs were weirder 'cause I was like overcompensating for being not as good of a painter. So I was making weirder paintings on purpose. I think now I've sort of reined that back in as I've become a better painter. And I like to think that there's a little bit of like tension between those two extremes that still makes my work a little bit unique and a little bit surreal and stretches a little bit further.

Like we don't know what we shouldn't do, so we end up doing something that's against the rules, but it works. I think that happens sometimes.

Yeah, yeah. I've talked to my brother about it, who's a poet, and he took the very academic route, and he's gotten two master's degrees and is currently getting his PhD. And like, his philosophy was always like, you gotta know the rules first before you can break them, sort of thing. And I think I was— I don't know if I was just like lazy and I didn't want to be told what to do, But I was just like, no, like, screw it.

I just want to—

I don't care if I'm breaking the rules. Like, I'm just going to go do what I want.

Ignorance is bliss. Just do it till it works.

Yeah, yeah. It's gotten me this far, so.

Mine was very specific. I don't remember where it came from, if it was like me staring at paintings enough, because I mean, I can't tell you how many alarms I've set off at museums from just like staring too close. But like figuring out that shadows are transparent and light is thick was like a huge one. I'm like, oh, it all makes sense now. This is the fundamental truth of painting. It's not, but it's like, that was a big one for me where it's like, now it makes sense why a lot of these paintings that I really like are able to get that depth without being too fussy, I guess, which a lot of realistic painting can be sometimes. Where it's like one rule where it's like a shadow can just be completely a transparent wash, but you see the detail, but it's implied in that. I really like that idea.

Yeah, yeah, I think that's, that's definitely something that I try to pay a lot of close attention to is that whole idea of how much detail do you actually need to convey the sense of this image. And so much, I think my, my shadow work has gotten like more and more reductive the longer I've painted. But I think I, I didn't come to that realization on my own. I think that's one of the things that I read online, it was like, paint your shadows thinner and your highlights thicker and more opaque, and you get that optical illusion.

Yeah, for me, my version of that was I read online about underpainting. Like, I don't know if I would have come to that independently. Like, you need to have a wash of like a warmer color underneath. I think I'd never figure that out.

Yeah, I used to paint, like I was saying, just like purely directly, and I think starting doing underpainting processes was one of those Things I wasn't— which I don't know if you would call not doing underpainting a mistake necessarily, but once I figured out that that was what the artists that I liked were doing and then I started doing it and I realized that like this just makes it a lot easier for you down the road in your painting.

It helps me not be so precious about choices I'm making until I get to the color stage. So I know it's less impactful, I guess, what I'm doing at that point. So I can kind of relax and like really work on where thick shapes are going to go and that kind of thing without being like, okay, well, this has— I'm using oil paint now, so it's very important that I put it exactly where I need to put it. So I can take a lot of time because it takes me so much of painting for me is thinking about painting. Like, I could think about painting for 2 months, then just like finally do it in like a week. But it's just like, it's preparing, it's doing the drawing, it's like work, work, work, and then finally just get it all out one night. I'm just gonna leave it.

I'm the same way. I way overthink everything, especially my paintings. And I definitely get a little bit of anxiety before I start, specifically using that main bright, colorful, opaque layer of paint. I have a lot of anxiety starting that stage. And one thing I think I've struggled with the whole underpainting thing is like the longer I've painted, the more expansive that underpainting stage gets and like the more layers of that happens. And I find myself wondering like, am I doing this because it's necessary or am I just trying to put off, am I trying to like curb my anxiety and just put off this main layer of paint as much as I can?

Yeah.

So I've tried to like dial it back a little bit as of late.

I mean, I do that. It's just like, especially for like the main figure and something, I'll just like be staring at it and staring at it and it's like, it just— I don't understand why, because like it doesn't have to be perfect because like you can always scrape paint off, but I'm like, this is my one shot, do not miss your chance to blow. Yeah, so that does help, that just kind of— you feel like you're like you're 70% done rather than like 10% done and you have to fix like make all the decisions in the painting stage. So I see what you mean, I do the same thing.

Just like going further with that, I feel like working with that process then sometimes I would find would like take away the excitement that I had for that piece. And I'd get it all drawn on and be like, yeah, this is gonna be really cool. And then I'd get bogged down for like 2 or 3 weeks doing underpainting stuff. And by the time I got to that point, I was like, like, this is just— I've been looking at this for too long. Like, I'm not excited about it anymore. And then I would get in this cycle where I was just like starting pieces and getting through the underpainting, and then I just quit and be like, I don't care about this anymore. I'm just gonna start something else. And I like wasn't finishing anything.

So I think that's why I work on one painting at a time. Why I can't really multitask. It's like Every painting feels like an impulse from start to finish to like get it done. And if I kind of distract myself, then I'll lose my love for it. Like I fall in love really quickly with it. So like if I tried to do two paintings at once, I'd be like, I wouldn't come back to the other one. It would just like be dead to me in some way. So it's like you have to like get it all out at once and then just whatever happens as a result.

Oh yeah, I'm trying to find a way to work more like that. But now I do so much layering and like glazing and dry brushing and stuff that I've had to be a little bit more deliberate about timing and waiting for stuff to dry. And I use a lot of reductive methods with sandpaper and steel wool. And so I do miss that like spontaneity of just sitting down and kind of just like busting it out.

Yeah. I mean, it helps that my studio is also where I live and it's really small. So I literally don't have room to do more than one at a single time.

That's true.

Part necessity, part impulse, like it's kind of worked out that way.

So are there any last follow-up thoughts you had, I guess, for discussion?

I mean, I guess we're not done with every painting, but is there a painting that you've done so far that stood out to you as like the tentpole? I don't know how you describe it, but like of your show, the one that like would be on the COVID of your pamphlet?

You'd think it would be the first one that I I did that George wanted me to build the show around. There's this painting I did that obviously you haven't, or anybody hasn't seen yet except for me, but it is one that I finished and it's called Chronos and it's a painting of two horses in a landscape. But I think it's the closest I've gotten to the vision in my head of the integration between two and three dimensions. So that one might be the cornerstone at this point. This sunset behind me takes the prize for the most frustrating work so far.

Well, it looks amazing.

It's finally at a point where I'm— to tell you the truth, last week I was this close to just sanding it off and painting over entirely and starting something different. Like, sometimes it comes to just a split-second decision whether or not I finish or don't, and I stuck with it and I'm glad I did.

But I don't mean— it looks like a picture from here. Amazing.

Thanks. Yeah, what about you?

Yeah, it's funny because we had like the big one that we did that we're doing like a little video for, but I actually feel like the second one I did that is behind me right now, I feel like the horse I made kind of a breakthrough on, and also the guy's face for the scale that it's at. Like, I've had trouble with like really small faces sometimes, but I mean, it seems obvious now, but I kind of translated the way I work on large scale to small scale, and it seemed to really work because the way I paint is kind of like— I don't know if it's correct, but it's like a mosaic style. So I like put a piece of color, another piece of color, and then I end up— I do the whole thing like that. So it's like patchwork, and then at the end I kind of put them together and do edges and that kind of thing. And I don't know if a lot of people paint that way. I don't know if it's correct. I don't know if it's like backwards, but I kind of applied that to the face rather than doing like what I've done in the past is like do a pass of one color and then try and put stuff on top of that and that just gets messy and it looks like washed out and stuff. But just kind of, I don't know, I never thought of that, but I feel like I've made that breakthrough in that one.

Yeah, I've never seen one of your paintings in person, unfortunately. So I'd love to see that up close.

I mean, it's more, I think I paint more thinly than the artists that I admire do. Like I'm always trying to push myself to paint a lot thicker. But I'm so precious with paint. I don't know, it's just some kind of thing I've always had trouble with. Like, I just need more paint, need a bigger brush, but I always just like, I get stuck in the little paint details.

I was like that for a long time. I think I'm now sort of getting through that. And I mean, one of the things I did during the pandemic was really try to let myself embrace expression and boldness. Because for a long time, maybe the biggest brush I was using was maybe like a number 6 round. And that was it. But now I've got these like nice big chunky flat Filbert brushes.

Don't scare me. Like tiny little brush, I will paint this 20 by 20 with a finger point.

I guess that I did have a follow-up question about your philosophy on scale and sizing. Like why do you paint the sizes that you do?

I mean, when I first started like 4 or so years ago or whatever, I kept kind of thinking like, oh, bigger is better. I'm just gonna keep scaling up, but I scaled up way too fast, like beyond my capabilities, without first really working on composition on like really small levels. So now I'm kind of working my way back toward really small, which I think is kind of opposite of what a lot of artists do, where they like must start small and then like you work up to the really grand thing. But I'm trying to bring myself back from that break and just kind of get back to the basics and really learn how to make a really nice small painting that works, that's like this big. And it also helps for I mean, it's crass, but like saleability, 'cause like a lot of people don't wanna buy a 20 by 20 oil painting for their walls. That's a bigger decision than just like something really small. Yeah. So I'm definitely trying to make more small buyer-friendly, house-friendly kind of works. But you do like kind of paint bigger?

I think I was the opposite. Like when I was first starting, the biggest paintings I was doing was like 16 by 20 or maybe 18 by 24. And then there were a couple exceptions to that, but Normally it was small and like part of that was just due to material limitations. Like I didn't have an easel that could really handle anything bigger than 18 by 24. But I, my tendency was always to work small and I definitely struggled when I was starting to try to size up. I was the same way. I was like skipping on paint and I was having troubles like using enough paint to cover a larger piece. And then I really learned a lot about how the same composition can look so different 6x6 and then like 24x24. And so I'm more regularly doing things like 30x30 and like I've done a 36x36 and I'm working on a 30x36. So it's getting bigger, but it's taking me longer to sort of learn how those things translate to a larger scale. So my comfort zone's kind of like, I prefer squares. I think squares are a fun aspect ratio, but it's, yeah, like 20 by 20 to 30 by 30 is probably my range now. But one thing I've also learned as I've shown more is that like 20 by 20 looks big on your easel in your house, but if you get it anywhere else, it's suddenly tiny.

Yeah.

So I've been thinking about that as I've worked longer in terms of scaling up.

I mean, it's funny with aspect ratio, because like I started out again coming from film, I did a lot of lengthways kind of stuff. I can't think of the word right now, but just more like a cinematic aspect ratio, like you're in like Lawrence of Arabia. I can't think of the word.

Like widescreen?

Yeah, just widescreen, just kind of really—

Cinemascope?

Cinemascope. But just always kind of going for like the old-fashioned cinema epic kind of stuff, because it's like that's what narrative is, like lengthwise is a narrative painting, it felt like to me. But then I've seen so many like really nice kind of square formats recently that I've been trying to do a lot more of that. And actually really enjoyed how it looks and how the figures kind of feel less hokey. Like sometimes like a longer painting can feel strange. It can feel like you're just trying to replicate like a cinematic shot. So I'm trying to move away from that. That's funny that we're both trying to work more with squares. And also size-wise, I actually, like, in my old apartment, I bought like a 4-foot by 5-foot canvas, like, out of nowhere. It was like on sale, and I just held on to it forever because I'm like, I'm gonna paint this just like standing on the ground. It'll just be this big epic mural type thing. So I was really obsessed with murals at the time, and then I just recently sold it to someone on Craigslist because I'm like, I'm like bigger than my house.

Yeah, I've done that same thing. That's, that's a sort of more obscure lesson or group of lessons I've had to learn and I'm still learning is like how to actually be like thrifty and frugal and efficient as an artist, but in a way that is actually useful to you and not just like—

Yeah.

Not just like getting free stuff or getting stuff that you think you're gonna do down the line and then like don't end up using. I've wasted so much money on canvases and frames and stuff that I just never ended up using because it was like the wrong size that didn't make sense to me anymore, or like the quality wasn't good enough all of a sudden. And so I think especially as like an emerging artist, you're always trying to be as efficient as you possibly can, but I've definitely wasted so much time and money in things that didn't end up working.

Yeah, I mean, the same. I kind of feel a responsibility now that I'm so, so professional to like my buyers that I have better materials than I had in the past. Because like before, I'd be totally fine with like, oh, an artist isn't defined by their tools. But it's like you kind of owe it to the people that are buying your stuff that it's like more archival and it's better quality. And you do see a difference. So like I've been buying better canvas, buying better oil paint, that kind of stuff. But really being specific about the paints that I do kind of splurge on. Trying to spend money more wisely, but in ways that is respectful of the people who are taking the time to buy.

Yeah, for sure. I think when I was first starting, I thought it was dumb or pretentious or self-absorbed of people who were obsessed with the archival nature of their artwork. I was like, "Oh, you think so highly of yourself." You think people are gonna care about you in 50, if your painting still looks good in 50 or 100 years. But yeah, the longer I've done it, you do start to see people are trying to spend more money on your art. So yeah, that's the least you can do is make it a quality in terms of the design and the execution and also the physical material object as well.

I mean, 'cause you look at like antique roadshow or something and some family will have a painting by, some unknown artist, like it's not worth anything, but like they love it and they'll get it restored. So there may be down the line in 100 years someone who just happens to have your painting and they have like a connection to it, not because you're not this era's Van Gogh or anything, but it's been in their family and they looked at it growing up. So I kind of think about that sometimes, right? Who's gonna have my paintings if they don't all like burn in a firestorm or something? They'll be somewhere, someone will.

Yeah. You know, everybody's got to decorate their house. Well, this was, this was fun.

Hopefully that's interesting in some way.

Well, thanks for chatting.

Yeah.

Horizons is produced by Western Gallery for the love of Western art and artists of all genres. If you're enjoying the show, please leave a review on iTunes or share an episode with a friend. If you have comments, suggestions, or for sponsorship opportunities, please email me directly at info@horizonsgallery.com. @western.gallery or direct message @westerngallery on Instagram. Thanks again and tune in next time.