by Ariel Radock

Fill In The Blank Gallery: Your work is often saturated with varying hues of red and blue. 3-D glasses use these two colors, accompanied by altered images, to create the perception of an additional dimension.  What is the purpose of concentrating specifically on red and blue? What dimensional persona is being created?

Nathan Vernau: I started using pinks and blues once I finally started making, what I consider to be, good work. I was dealing with a lot of issues concerning masculinity, and used these colors to address those themes. I became very comfortable with this color palette, and over time it has progressed to brighter and more vibrant hues, and I began using more shades of red. I have become more and more interested with the visual disruption that can happen with certain color combinations. With each drawing I make I have been paying attention to how colored pencils react with each other and with the paper. There are early stages with certain drawings where it can really mess with my vision to look for too long at the surface. I want to grab people’s attention, and I try to utilize the color of the work to do just that.

I suppose the persona that is displayed is of an inner-dimensional type. I would hate to say that what you see on the paper is what I see in my mind, because that’s not quite how it works (and it sounds somewhat cliché). But it certainly comes from a place that can’t be physically explored until it is put down on the paper. It’s a persona that communicates visually rather than verbally.

FIB: As humans we all encounter numerous emotional, physical, and psychological transitions. What is the most recent transition you have experienced and how does that affect your work?

Nathan Vernau: The work that forms the series you are referencing, “Transitions,” was all about trying to figure out my next step after completing graduate school. I had invested so much time and effort to improve on my artwork, that I kept putting that next move out of sight and out of mind. Once it was there I didn’t quite know what to do. I sort of drifted around town, only working part time, hanging out with friends who were still in school, and tried to make some decisions. During all of this I was literally working it all out on paper, detailing the feeling with lots of water imagery and figures that were sightless.

The most recent transition is moving to Chicago. I had lived in Wisconsin my entire life before moving here in August. Despite having yet to find a reliable job, the move has gone fairly smoothly. I have friends down here, family just outside of the city, and I’m comfortable at the moment. That’s not to say there aren’t any drastic changes. Chicago is easily the biggest city I’ve ever lived in and I’m still adjusting to living in an urban environment. I’m used to being able to literally go a few miles and walk into a forest if I really want to. And I think I’ve seen more rats than squirrels since I’ve been here, which is new to me.

Moving to Chicago will certainly affect my work. Right now the drawings I have been making since I set up my studio have continued from the series I have been working on since mid-summer. However, I know the surroundings and people I am near to now have a definite affect on my moods and feelings and this will become more and more evident once I start to look back at the drawings I am making right now. Every series of work I make is spurred by transitions of some kind. Each change that happens in my life inevitably affects me and my personal experiences.

FIB: The psychological theory of Structuralism primarily focuses on the deconstruction of our subconsciousness to manifest itself into real experiences. Do you believe an artist can adequately transition imagination into a representational form?

Nathan Vernau: Yes. However, it is incredibly hard to do well. To describe something from your imagination into words, sounds, images, or movement takes a lot of practice, investigation, and failure. You have to do it in a way that captivates both you and the viewer. That might just be the ultimate goal for me with my artwork.

FIB: Cowboys, long johns, googly eyes, cinderblocks, and chainsaws frequently emerge within your work. Do you use humor as a device to attract a viewer’s attention? What meaning do these symbols represent?

Nathan Vernau: Absolutely. I certainly want to get people’s attention, and I think that’s what anyone who works in an artistic field wants. Much of the content that goes into the drawings is filled with anxiety and stress and frustration that I have to use humor as a way to balance that negativity. Using a lot of those symbols you mention is a way to represent ideas about ideal masculinity, stability, or maturity, and the way I often frame them is ridiculous or absurd. Humor is interesting to me, because it often has more behind it than just wanting to get attention or make people laugh.

There are some very specific reasons for the placement of those symbols at times, reasons that are only going to be evident to me. But there are also meanings that are meant to be universal, or perhaps broader to the viewer, to help them relate to what I am putting across with the imagery. Using humor is a great way to spark conversations with an audience, especially if they aren’t people who are typically interested in art.

FIB: The incorporation of text into a painting or drawing is a conscious decision by the artist to enhance or alter the narration of a piece. Bruce Nauman’s drawings are a good example of the rearrangement and playfulness with words. What prompted you to include text and what significance does this union have for you?

Nathan Vernau: I suppose curiosity prompted me to use text at one point, but it is also about adding another layer of communication (or sometimes miscommunication) to the work. I’m fascinated by the range of interpretations that can happen with just one word or phrase that’s included in a drawing. One of my favorite drawings has the phrase “rad dum” stenciled along the top. It was just a simple play on the words “red rum” from The Shining. I’d just made this drawing that I thought was amazing, but also kind of ridiculous, yet it was missing something. It added this clue for the viewer as to what direction they could go. My titles often do the same, but people don’t always see them – they’ll refer to the text or whatever is happening in the drawing rather than some long, drawn-out line that sounds like it’s from a poem. The text acts like the chorus of a catchy song – they help people remember them later on.

Quite a few of the phrases included in my drawings are actually from songs. I’m often moved by the emotional response that lyrics can have on me, and there have been more than a couple moments where I’ve been listening to a song while I’m working on a drawing, and it just lines up perfectly. I’ve been writing a lot of songs in the last year, as well, and I’ve noticed that lyrics and phrases are intermingling in my notebooks now. I attempt to communicate my experience or feelings, in one way or another. What I try to do is simplify these complex emotions, but sometimes I end up complicating things that may be simple. The text often plays a role in this.

FIB: Which is more important to you: The processes of creating art or would you prefer the satisfaction of the finished product?

Nathan Vernau: I would say they are both incredibly important, although it does feel damn good to finish a drawing and experience that exact word you used: satisfaction. I love the feeling of progress, and more specifically, to see that progress made at the end of a drawing. But at the same time, going through the process of creating is crucial to figuring things out. There are drawings I work on that sit for a while before I can do anything more, but it’s absolutely necessary to have that struggle.

This is something I’m experiencing at the moment. I’ve just finished a drawing that has gone more or less in the sequence of a familiar routine of completion. While it is done, it still is missing something. It drives me nuts. Even with a “recipe” I have figured out to make a really good drawing, it doesn’t work out all the time. There are little mistakes that can still be made, because I can get too sloppy. Or I work too fast. Or I think I’m being clever. I think I’ve just convinced myself that I wouldn’t be satisfied with the finished product if it weren’t for all the processes that go along with creating art. I would be worried if it felt too easy.

FIB: Are there any specific themes you wish to work with or portray in the future?

Nathan Vernau: I have ideas that float around on the back-burner for quite a while before they ever get implemented, so there’s always something there. I’d like to work on a series of portraits of my family and friends eventually, but that keeps getting pushed back. I’m always interested in framing my work around past art movements and current popular culture, so I try to keep my eyes peeled and ears open for captivating ideas. I’m sure whatever I use will reflect my current state of mind. The decay of the human body might be something I pursue next. I’ve been feeling the effects of age in the morning recently, and that has been creeping in some of the last few drawings.

Nathan Vernau was born, raised, and educated in the great state of Wisconsin. He is the only one of his siblings to not be born during a snowstorm. Not too long after earning his MFA from the University of Wisconsin-Madison, he moved to Chicago. He is not so much interested in fame and fortune as he is in comfort and security. In his spare time he can be found sitting with poor posture. Vernau's work can be found on the cover of the current issue of New American Paintings http://nathanvernau.blogspot.com/

by Ariel Radock

Fill In The Blank Gallery: A substantial amount of your work is an amalgamation of emotions reflecting your personal difficulties growing up as an adopted child. Do you find a catharsis painting such an intimate subject?

JooYoung Choi: That's a good question. I think it really matters on the situation. Sometimes, when I paint it is a moment where everything stops. The world stops vibrating and I can focus. When the work does have an autobiographical feel, regarding adoption, it has become a place for me to organize my thoughts and feels about things that are generally not tangible. Through symbols I can take ideas, feelings, passed events and orchestrate various combinations of how they interact within my mine. At times painting has been a way for me to share my life and my feelings about the world without having to say too much. This has been incredibly important with both my Korean family, because of the language barrier we deal with. Also, it has been a way to discuss certain things about my life that are at times confusing or complicated for my American family and I to talk about. For myself, I don't feel that painting is a form of therapy but I do see it as a form of meditation. It is an inner conversation and a way to break organize the various aspect of my life.

FIB: There is a point during childhood when we become aware of ourselves and of others. Have you always created art as means of expression?

JYC: I have always loved to make art. I was always the little girl who kept drawing at the bench outside while all the other kids decided to run around or do something else. The other thing I always did was sing. I sang all the time. One of my youngest elementary school memories is getting caught drawing one some multiplication butcher paper in 1st grade and I was singing to myself and the teacher pick me up and put me over her leg and spanked me in front of the class. It never stopped me. My family (American) have always been incredibly supportive of my love of making things. I grew up with my father making doll houses and using lots of woodshop tools, my mother was always painting ceramics, making crafts, and sewing me and my sister's dresses. I was really lucky to have parents who encouraged me through a number of different creative forms of expression to explore myself and the world. Art was also a great way for me to feel as though I belonged. I felt like an outsider for most of my life, I would watch tons of cartoons and I collected comic book marvel cards, I would memorize birthdays and super power levels, I even know that Wolverine is 5'3" and that Betsy Braddock who is Captain Britain's sister magically became Asian. Comics and art were the only place I really saw people who looked like me, other than porn or the stereotypical or archaic pictures I would see in National Geographic. Jubilee, Psychloke, Wolverine's ex-girlfriend, etc. I would just stare at these women and feel better. The first image, I think really got me interested in art, was a Norman Rockwell painting that had a little Asian girl in it, I loved that image, because it was the first time I ever saw an Asian girl in a painting.

(detail)

FIB: Reality is a fickle term. Some use it to describe how things are in relation as to how they should be. What is your critical response to reality?

JYC: Reality is weird. People think about absolutes too much, in my own opinion. Who knows maybe they need absolutes and they need to have reality. Realness really started to breakdown for me when I found out my birthday. I grew up saying people that I was born on Nov. 29th 1982, but I was told that it was a birthday made up by the agency and that my parents didn't know whether it was my real birthday. On my birthday, I used to sit and wonder if my birthmother was thinking about me, I thought about that every year. When I met my birthfather, he told me it was the right date, but later on after finding my birthmother she corrected him and explained that I was born on Dec 5 1982, which really isn't that big of deal. But, that is according to the lunar calendar that follows the moon, which means technically by the christian calendar, I was born January 17th 1983. So what is real? Is the christian calendar real? Is the lunar calendar real? Because the lunar calendar is different than the christian calendar some time in January I get a call from my birthmother trying to use her best english to wish me a happy birthday. And every Nov 29th, I sing happy birthday with my American family. I am 28 in American years and in Korea because they round up and count the time in the womb I'm 30. So who is right, what is real? I often forget how old I am. What is real I guess doesn't necessarily matter. What I feel, what I choose to embrace and explore, those things interest me far more than the concept of one concise reality.

FIB: Descartes once said, “I think therefore I am”. You mention that painting verifies your own existence. How have you come to this conclusion?

JYC: The whole idea of painting helping me exist, came from growing with my American family and the various heirlooms that have been passed on from generation to generation. Before, I met my birth family, I was in many ways this floating person, who didn't even know who's nose she had and who's smile she had. When I began to paint, I started to see people who looked like me. Growing up in New Hampshire, Asians were far and few between. The stories of my life are complicated, difficult, strange and sometimes really remarkable gifts, through painting I have been able to document these moments. They are kind of like snapshots of my life that were taken with a super space age technology camera that can take photos that push past the concepts of linear time, capture emotions and bring forth images of things that usually are invisible. When I would step back and see these things, I felt as if a little more of me was actually real. It is as if, growing up I was like Bill Cosby in ghost dad, as he was slowly fading away, he couldn't touch things and he was fading, except for me, it was the reverse. I went from a ghost to a girl.

FIB: You have constructed an alternate universe for the viewer to participate, feel, and contemplate. What mythology have you created for yourself and for your art?

JYC: Yeah, I haven't fully broken down the many different places and spaces within this world. I'm still letting it grow, similar to a very long big bang. Things continue to spread out from the initial explosion and they zoom off into their own galaxies. The mythology of my work is somewhat planned but much like a fiction writer, at times my characters just do what ever they want even if it bothers me. As of now, there are the lost girls, the counterparts to the lost boys from Peter Pan. They don't live in Never Neverland, instead, they zoom around in different dimensions and explore. They help people, they bring people to the right world so they can live a happy life. I joke often with people, that all the bees that have been dying and disappearing lately have all gone to the bear planet, with the bear clan girls. Those girls helped them get to their planet because humans on earth were abusing them so badly, they had to get free. I feel that having a special world is really key to keeping my work accessible to a large audience, which includes me. If I just painted boats or mountains, it might be fun, but I know I'd probably become bored with it unless there was a narrative of the mountain was eating people or the boats had duck faces and could fly. Recently, I was showing some work to some neighbors near my studio and they knew the different lost girls and their names, and they could actually identify which was number nine and which one was number 36. It's fun to get lost in something imaginative. It's fun to be like a child again. It's fun to be playful and I believe it is one of the best ways to invite people into a deeper level of conversation. Although the works seems rather sweet, the closer you look the more complicated they become. The playing octopuses and field mice in Munoe's Attack, seem rather sweet until you see the teeth on the octopuses and the terrible fear in the mice's eyes. There is a twist of playfulness and pain in most of my works.

FIB: In your work there is a menagerie of zoomorphic creatures ranging from the cute to the sinister. What significant role do they contribute to the narrative of a painting as a whole?

JYC: Animals have always been very important to me. Not necessarily real ones, but the animals in my mind were always pretty cool. My favorite film growing up was Roger Rabbit, it still is. I have this hideous Roger Rabbit doll that is about 20 years old. He has travelled internationally with me a number of times to Korea, Japan and Canada. The rabbits in my work were one of the first characters I created, they represented protection but they also posed the question of: what happens when you grow up, do your imaginary or childhood characters grow up with you? And if so, what do they look like, what do they do, now that you're not always lost with them in play land? How do they occupy their time, do they get girlfriends? Get part time jobs? Find a new purpose? The animal helmets that my characters wear are based on my childhood growing with tons of T.V. shows that had magical animals and people who interacted: April and the Ninja Turtles, the Little Mermaid and Flounder, the Jungle Book Disney cartoon—I used to dance around to the aerobic record they had put out, it was pretty sweet, at least to the 5 year old version of me who really dug records and cartoons, etc. The thing about animals is they can say so much just in which animal you pick, unlike humans, where people are just people. I can't say much about a person without clothes and accessories, but my intentional decision for different animals to represent different feelings, emotions, ideas, personalities is a playful and economic choice that brings most people back to their childhood, when it was normal for animals in books to talk to children. It brings many people back to this vulnerable, magical place that stretches the concept of reality and the absolutes we live with.

FIB: Has the experience of meeting your birth mother and father changed your work?

JYC: Yes. After meeting them, I began to make portraits of myself that actually look like me. I remember in my undergrad having assignments to do a self-portrait and no matter how hard I tried they just didn't look like me. I know I am not a monkey, but there have been studies of chimps that are raised by humans and consider themselves humans and they are even attracted to humans, and I think for me, for years, I really couldn't see myself. I remember in Sunday school drawing a picture of my family, and when I got to my face I drew myself as a blonde girl with BIG blue eyes. Finding my birth parents was so grounded, it allowed me to explore the contours of our DNA, personalities and our essences. I started to see myself in the mirror. One day I was walking down the street, thinking too hard, and when I look in the window, I looked like a spitting image of my birthmother when she gets concerned about me studying to hard or not eating enough kimchi. Also, visiting Korea, so many times has introduced a whole new visual language and combinations of colors that became an everyday experience, from the food to the signs that amass the buildings, color is everywhere. It is bright, it is fun, and it is wonderful to get lost in it. After meeting them, I was free in a way to move on to other things. It wasn't always about filling this void, it was now about seeing what was in the mirror, now that I could actually fully see someone standing there. And it allowed me to look beyond the loss or the mystery and see other people, the issues in the world and in the universe. And many ways it gave me a chance to something else, instead of an adoptee who didn't have many answers about the origins of my existence.

FIB: Describe a typical working day at your studio.

JYC: Well, I usually get to the studio by 5 pm and I will work till morning then go and sleep and do it all over again. I have sketchbooks with ideas, tons of books and clippings of images I am attracted to. I often spend time listening to Lil' Wayne or Tom Waits or the Tokyo Latin Orchestra, and I pick images I want to paint. It really matters on what deadlines I have. If I am working on what I call Rockstahs, which are my larger works that I can spend months upon months if not years on, and then I have smaller works called Etudes, Cadets which are experimental paintings and portraits. I also make LPCs which are the paintings people generally think look like stained glass, they stand for Line Portrait and Color. I spend time responding to emails, updating my website, researching new grants, I tutor my student once a week in the studio, I build a lot of canvas frames, and I give myself time to make tons of messes. Usually, if I am working on a batch of paintings, I will lay them all out and rotate amongst them, switching from painting to painting and letting them feed off each other. With the larger ones, there is far more planning and looking and thinking than actual painting. I also dance a lot. I have toys, like a sweet Voltron and this weird mechanical rabbit and polymer models of my girls so I can get the shading right on them. Also, I watch a lot of cartoons, listen to NPR or watch college lectures on various subjects from Harvard, Pepperdine, UCLA and other school. It has actually become the best way for me to doodle. I forgot how to doodle at some point, and it wasn't until I started listening to videos of lectures was I able to get back to that, "I'm in school, but I'm not going to pay attention to the teacher" mode, and since then the ideas began to flow again. I am thinking a lot about how to create parameters for me to follow and then rebel against.

FIB: Which pigment would best describe your personality and why?

JYC: I don't know if I could pick just one. I don't know probably a really bright turquoise, just like the stone, uh, maybe a little richer, um it's a special color to me, it's similar to blue and it definitely not green, it's as if blue and green had a baby. I like that. I like thinking about pigments having sex, and I like thinking about them making babies.

FIB: What is Ta-Art and how did you conceive of this idea?

JYC: TAARTS! Ta-arts are great. They stand for tiny affordable arts. It was this whole idea that I wanted to make art more accessible so people who enjoyed all the little creatures in my paintings could take one home. I have sold them to help finance my second trip to Korea and now I make them and use a percentage of the profits to send vitamins to single expecting mothers in Korea. They're also taarts because I make them in batches, and when it's sunny out, I put them on a larger tray or canvas and lay them out in the sun to dry. They are all different sorts of animals, like space alien caterpillars from the future. They're are also space alien mosquitos from the future who have evolved to the point that they don't need to prick people to get their food, they have evolved to the point that they don't even feed on blood, they suck up negative energy and transform it into life force, there are the broken robots who have found new purpose in their life with the help of the lost girls, there are the gumdrop birds and hold our secrets, there are the marshmallow bunnies who are playful and sweet and usually don't have noses. There are furds with are what got made when a fish and a bird had a kid. They are tons of fun and weird TAARTS and they have names, like Charles or Lamont and Betty Anne or Ryoko. I think it goes back to my childhood and how big cabbage patch kids were and all the other things I collected that had names and personalities like Care Bears, the Smurfs, etc.

FIB: Will you be returning to Korean anytime soon?

JYC: I would really enjoy visiting for Chuseok the Korean Thanksgiving, but I am unsure if I will be able to do that this year because of graduate school. I call my family in Korea often, but for now, it is best to stay in the states and focus on my studies, my career and spending time with my baby niece who has such a love for painting. She has two taarts of her own, named Max and Doreen she calls them by name and drags them around the house.

FIB: Where and what do you consider to be “home”?

JYC: Home is on cloud10. It's the place that I say my paintings are made. It could be in Korea, could be in America, where ever. Many times people think that I am struggling between two worlds in my work, but if anything, the world that I make in my paintings, is the world that I am quite comfortable in. It maybe the reason that my paintings are usually patchworked together with parts of New Hampshire, parts of Korea, and bits of animation/comics/etc. Home isn't one physical place, it is many places put together. It is the summer smell of the humidity on the little porch in Ansan, at my step birthmother's house. It is feeling of the birch trees and the colors in my father's garden in New Hampshire. It is the laugh of my niece, her blueberry blue eyes that stare lovingly and touch my paintings. It is my mother's amazing apple pies. It is sound of my dog Suki barking. It is also the sweaty smell of my Appa (Korean father) getting home from the farm, the singing of my Omma (birth mother) at the Norebang (Karaoke Room). I guess I am like a turtle I just carry my home with me everywhere. It is a little bit old memories, it's part family, some nostalgia and a mix of beautiful and strange creatures I visit everyday through my paintings.

FIB: What projects are you involved with currently?

JYC: Well, I just began graduate school at Art Institute of Boston Lesley, which has been awesome. I am interested in developing more clothing, stuffed animals, small sculptures and I also have an interest in installation. This year in grad school I will continue to develop my concepts, my characters and hopefully create a book that organizing a large portion of the flora, fauna and characters from the worlds surrounding cloud10.

The Squirrels of City Park, 48 inches by 54 inches, Oil and pastel on canvas, 2010

by Ariel Radock

Fill In The Blank Gallery: Italo Calvino’s “Invisible Cities” is the story of a conversation between Marco Polo and Kublai Khan. Neither speak a common language therefore the description of the various cities Marco Polo has visited must be told through the use of objects. This leaves great room for interpretation and imagination. Do you believe that cities are real because we are told about their existence or do you feel that they exist because we imagine them to be so?

Aaron Delehanty: I love that book! And the great twist in it is that Marco Polo isn't describing various and different cities, but just one—Venice. All the cities he seems to describe are incredibly various and multi-faceted. If you take each story alone it gives the impression that one can describe a city in a one or two page poem, but then Calvino pulls the rug out from under us and reveals that his book is an allegory to how varied and layered city's are.

And I think Calvino here succeeds in presenting cities for what they are—complex, varied, moody, temperamental, multi-faced organisms.

To answer your question, I would say yes to both. We know cities exist out there. There is, of course the city that is made of brick, concrete and metal, etc.

But it is the city of our thoughts that is subjective enough to only exist in our imagination, almost like a dreamscape. Take me for instance. I am an artist in Chicago so I see and imagine this city as I need it exist—I see the gallery system, I do weird art shit with my artist friends so I notice places where we can do our weird stuff, I teach art-classes so I see Chicago's student population, I'm a new father so for the first time playgrounds are now visible…I do not, nor will I be able to imagine other parts of Chicago. For instance I will never be able to imagine or see the Chicago of woman's fashion, nor do I see the city of, say, drag racing or drug trafficking. Those facets of Chicago do exist, but they are invisible to me.

That’s what I took from the word Invisible used in the book's title, I believe Marco is describing the city of Venice he saw on each of his visits. The title for my project is a play on that. Visible City is a place and time that people have woken out of a slumber and can see acts of human behavior that have remained invisible.

Image from Visible City Map series, 24 by 16.5 inches, ink, guache, colored pencil, oil, and beeswax on paper, 2009

FIB: While working on the paintings, city maps, and brochures for the “Visible City” project, what experience are you trying to create for the viewer?

AD: I do think a lot about the tradition of landscape painting, and I always question what it means to be a contemporary Landscape painter, how can this form of painting be 21st century, what makes it something that people in the 22nd century can look at as being representative of our times.

I think about how humans today are much more familiar with not only the land around them but with all sorts of details of spaces they have never traveled. Give me an hour and an Internet connection and I can tell you all about the geology of Krysicstan, its mineral deposits, the demographics of the people, its ecology, etc. So the role of the landscape painter has changed, he or she doesn’t need to fill the imaginative holes in space that they used to.

Our understanding and experience of Landscape today is hyper-complex. I find things interesting like the imperial conquest of the Hard Rock Café. They stamp their logo and city name on tee-shirts; people wear them around like merit badges of the cities they have been to. And some how this makes the world feel smaller, tamable. I can see the whole mass of those tee-shirts collectively being one gigantic kinetic landscape painting in itself.

Flock (Visible City), 66 by 96 inches, Egg-oil emulsion, oil, beeswax on linen, 2008-09

FIB: The tradition of landscape and cityscape painting is very old. Historically, we can denote upon numerous schools of art in the East and the West who solely focus upon such subjects. Do you believe that your work resounds more philosophically towards to western approach or the eastern tradition of this genre?

AD: I don’t think it would be at all possible to be able to fully respond philosophically in the eastern tradition, as a man raised and immersed in the western world. If I took on the philosophy of the East then it would only be because of a rejection against the western approach. That sort of disrespect for tradition would somehow make me more western.

FIB: What is your favorite memory of interacting with nature in an urban setting?

AD: I have never done it, my wife has made me promise her I would never do it, but the running of the bulls in Spain—a constructed situation where the animal world and the urban world are intentionally put in violent conflict!  It's just fucking bizarre!

Sound, Egg-oil emulsion, oil, beeswax on linen. 80" x 60"

FIB: A variety of different cultures in many eras believe birds to possess particular meaning. Whether this assigned value is positive or negative, birds nevertheless remain universal symbols. Often, your work depicts birds soaring over an aerial view of a city. What more can you tell us about this deliberate choice of perspective and the inclusion of such powerful mythology?

AD: The birds in my work are stand-ins for people. Take for example the pigeons soaring around in Flock (visible city). Like some crazed smoke we see in the foreground a flock of pigeons converging, but it appears to be dismantling too, its chaotic and controlled at the same time. The city below is organized in concentric circles of streets—showing how humans flock together. Somehow the birds allow us to see human behavior and animal behavior as being one in the same. The choice of a high perspective removes the viewer from the immediate drama of the here-and-now, reminding them of their being a component of a larger system, a spore in a slime mold.

FIB: Some landscapes and cityscapes possess iconic and a deep emotional connection to their inhabitants. Where is that place for you?

AD: The older I get the more I realize that I am a Great Lakean. It didn’t occur to me because the Great Lakes region is sectioned in the North-East, Mid-West and Canada so I never identified it as a region in and of itself, but it is, and I think of myself as someone who has spent most of their life living near the Earths largest body of fresh water.

Image from Visible City Map series, 14 by 16 inches, Beeswax, graphite and ink on paper, 2009

FIB: Precisionist cityscape painter Charles Sheeler purposefully excluded the depiction of people in his urban settings. Your work has similar connotations. Specifically focusing on the “Quarry” paintings, the representation of action by man is apparent yet there is a lack of evidence concerning as to who made it and why. Could you elaborate about this absence and its meaning?

AD: I think it goes back to what you said in the first question, life told through the use of objects. We experience our Self through objects. Also, when a painter uses the figure in a work it tends to take over the main focus, it draws the attention, and it sets the mood. I want the space, atmosphere, animals and man-made objects to do that.

Quarry with standing water, 36 inches by 48 inches, Oil on canvas 2008

FIB: Was there ever a time you got lost in a city? How did you feel and what did you take away from this experience?

AD: Ooh heck yeah I've gotten lost in a city, intentionally so! The touch of fear and loneliness you feel when you're lost is pretty freakin' exciting, and you start to notice things that you wouldn’t.  It also forces you to take control of space, memorize it so you can figure a way out.

From Jeffrey Brown's new book "Undeleted Scenes", coming out in May 2010

by Ariel Radock

Fill In The Blank Gallery: In Funny Misshapen Boy you explain how you were introduced to comics at a young age. Did your parents approve of this interest?

Jeffrey Brown: They did, or at least, they never disapproved. I think they trusted me for one thing, and for the most part I stuck to what was appropriate for my age - X-Men, G.I.Joe, a lot of Marvel comics. I didn't start reading things like Eightball until high school.

FIB: You have a produced a large body of work ranging form graphic novels, contributions to anthologies, music videos, and posters. How often are you requested for work? What is the strangest commission you were ever asked to create?

JB: I guess I'm asked to do things fairly regularly - it seems like I'm always working on at least one side-project of some sort. Of course, I'm not turning down a ton of things, either, so maybe it's not so much. I think it's a good amount where I have plenty of opportunities to do different and new things, but not so much that it interferes with my own work. I don't know that I've ever done too strange of a commission... one time I drew a proposal strip for someone, which was fun. The comic was of the guy asking his girlfriend to marry him, with the last word balloon left blank for her to fill in with her answer. I met them later, and got to write in the 'yes.' That sounds kind of sappy, but it was very sweet, actually.

FIB: Although a significant amount of your work consists of autobiographical elements, do you find enjoyment speaking publically about your art or are you more of a private person?

JB: I  guess I'm more private, and for the most part I hope the work speaks for itself, but at the same time I think I can offer some additional insight or context to the work for people who are interested. Mostly it's weird to talk about myself writing comics about myself, since the comics are already so self-involved.

FIB: Is it strange to have an avid fan base considering that you once followed someone else’s work?

JB: Certainly... it's always odd for me to interact with people and remember that they're reading my books, I tend to approach meeting people the way I would in any other social situation. It always boggles my mind a bit when I think that someone I've never met,  and who lives incredibly far away, could be sitting there reading some of my comics.

From Jeffrey Brown's new book "Undeleted Scenes", coming out in May 2010FIB: Are there specific criteria you follow when planning the structure of a graphic novel? How do you decide which life events to include or exclude?

JB: I approach each project as it's own thing, I guess. I do try to be fair to people without sacrificing the idea I'm trying to get at, and try to make sure I'm not repeating myself within the story. I work from memory, and so what's included is usually built on that - the idea that if I remember it well, it's somehow meaningful to me, and therefore could be meaningful within the comic. If I feel like something isn't contributing to what the main idea of the comic is, I'll take it out, unless it serves some purpose like comic relief.

FIB: Your work often reflects honest human experiences which generates empathy within the reader. Are you conscious of this connection or simply tell a story in hopes your audience will have a positive reaction?

JB: I think I'm conscious afterward, but I work mostly on intuition, and start with making the work that I think would speak to me, and hope that it speaks to the readers as well.

FIB:  What do you consider to be fundamentally important in telling a good story?

JB: I think the only thing I'm really concerned with all the time is making work that's meaningful. I don't think in terms of 'story' so much, I really just try to get at understanding life in some way, and hope that comes through for the reader.

FIB: Do you feel that there should be a harmonious equilibrium of text and pictures to properly convey a story in a graphic novel? How is this balance achieved and does it differ with every narrative?

JB: I think there should be a balance, and it definitely varies from project to project. I tend to feel better when there's less text, and I always try to be conscious of whether or not the text is adding to the image or simply repeats information. I think the balance is best when the reader can take in both image and text together at about the same time, without getting bogged down or distracted by one or the other.

FIB: Particular sensory attributes such as sound or smell can trigger memories regardless of its connotation. Are there any specific associations with certain music, noises, or scents that come to mind?

JB: Hm, not that I can think of, but I think that definitely happens... one of the things that happens when I look back through my sketchbooks is seeing drawings will trigger memories and feelings, and I'll remember things about the day I drew a page, what was going on and how I was feeling.

FIB:  Humor has been proven to be a useful coping mechanism to absolve difficult or hurtful situations. Is it therapeutic to draw about your past? Do you consider yourself to be humorous?

JB: Usually all the therapeutic value is gone from events by the time I write about them, and I try to avoid working through anything in particular in my comics. In a way I'm sometimes trying to show that the catharsis has already occurred, so that when a reader relates the comics to their own experiences, they can get that sense of having gotten over or working through things. I definitely like to undermine the drama with humor, and I think all of my comics are humorous, for myself especially, at least when I'm writing them. I've come to see that people bring their own sensibility and experience to interpreting the comics, so how funny they think it is depends on what they've been through or what they're going through at the time. I try to show that it's okay to be flawed and embarrassing and everything, that we can laugh at those really bad times and it's okay.

From Jeffrey Brown's new book "Undeleted Scenes", coming out in May 2010FIB: The invention of the Guttenberg press rapidly increased the fabrication of art and considerably expanded the vicinity of work. If this device was never created how would it effect the production and distribution of comics today?

JB: I'm not sure there would be comics at all, since comics essentially began as a mass produced medium... although I do find the idea of all comics being hand-drawn kind of interesting. Part of the appeal of comics - and their effectiveness - is because of their accessibility, both visually and in terms of availability, so it's hard to see them surviving as merely individual objects, or at least surviving and continuing to express ideas as effectively.

FIB:  Any interesting projects coming up?

JB: Coming out this year are a new cat book called Cats Are Weird and a new Incredible Change-Bots book. I also did illustrations for the zombie/Beatles mash-up book Paul Is Undead, which was a fun and different project to take on.

FIB: Last but not least. Have you every chewed Bazooka Joe gum and read its comics?

JB: Yeah, I used to a lot more. I would collect them, and then throw out the little collection of comics, and then collect them again. To me as a kid, it always seemed like there must be a nearly infinite amount of those comics, most of which I would never get to read.

Artist's website: www.jeffreybrowncomics.com
You can purchase Jeffrey's new book Undeleted Scenes, out in May, here: www.topshelfcomix.com/catalog/undeleted-scenes/712

by Ariel Radock

Fill In The Blank Gallery: You utilize many different types of methods of photography varying from albumen prints, large format, anaglyph, and most recently daguerreotypes. Which technique do you prefer to work with and why?

Brittonie Fletcher: In general I am a process based person. The way I prefer to work is whatever I am currently learning. I love the struggle of trying to figure something out. If something seems hard I want to do it. In that same sense, when I see lots of photographers tending to a certain style my immediate reaction is to do the opposite. With all that in mind, I try to keep the medium appropriate for which ever project I'm working on.

FIB: Where do you develop your photographs?

BF: You mean the chemistry? I used to do it at school, now it has become a bathroom operation.

As for concepts—that is an entirely different question. I am constantly working, typically on a few different projects simultaneously. I become fixated on some thing, this generally leads to months or years mulling and obsessing until I've completed some work about it. I do spend a lot of time looking back in history for inspiration.There are many periods that feature amazing feats in both the arts and sciences. My favorites are the Islamic Golden Age, the Renaissance, and the Enlightenment. Seeing what people were able to discover and put to practice never fails to stimulate me. During each of these periods advances were made involving chemistry and optics, which I can't help being a nerd about.

FIB: Do you ever feel like a mad scientist while working with and developing these various processes?

BF: Oh yes. The first time I got my hands on some silver nitrate was for the purpose of making albumen prints. I had never done any printing aside from standard silver gelatin at that time. I wore goggles and gloves but still managed to get the stuff everywhere. I am expressive, even in production. I came out of the darkroom and the monitor asked me if I had been eating the stuff! Apparently I had little spots on my face. In the photo department at MassArt some students used to refer to the alternative processes area as "Brittonie's Lair". I have always had some pride about that. It is exciting to use dangerous chemicals. Right now I am making bathtub daguerreotypes. Of course, I'm using the becquerrel process right now. My roommates would have a collective fit if I was cooking mercury. When I was a kid, I had a chemistry set and was always frustrated that I couldn't make explosions or anything reactive. I suppose I am making up for it now. All I need is a lab coat.

FIB: Do you feel that there is a strong correlation between art and science?

BF: Absolutely!!! Right now I'm reading "Proust Was a NeuroScientist." The book lines up various artists and systematically parallels their work with scientific discoveries made years later. I find the comparisons in the book both stimulating and comforting.There is a long history marrying art and science- DaVinci is a perfect example. What he was doing was trying to learn, about the world and in the process he created art. It works both ways. Over the past year or so I have been especially inspired by Boston photographers who melded science and art; Doc Edgerton, Bernice Abbot, and Harriet Casdin-Silver. This phenomenon of scientific art is witnessed across many mediums transgressing literal to fantastical applications. Scientists and artists seem to be after the same questions and answers; just as science is made of theories, a work of art is never really finished. We can always further our research and improve upon our work.

FIB: When exhibiting your work how important is the final installation and the viewer’s experience to you?

BF: I will spend hours upon days upon weeks mulling over tiny details of things people might not ever notice. I am sometimes disappointed at the lack of effort I see at shows. Really good work can be diminutized by too much framing or too little care/thought. Thumb tacks through work is a gigantic pet peeve of mine. It sends me the message that the artist doesn't care about their work.

FIB: Do you have a specific agenda in mind while taking a picture?

BF: It depends. I work in a variety of ways- photographing is a constant part of my life and variety is the spice of life. A lot of it depends on my mood. I tend to over analyze and really enjoy the tangential thought patterns while exploring a concept. Sometimes my work is just documentation, I have always enjoyed the diaristic qualities of photography. I suppose my main concern is simply trying to make something I like to look at.

FIB: Where do you store your photographs and negatives?

BF: I have many negative storage cases. I have experienced the absolute trauma of losing some film and files. I have been researching fire safes. At the moment I am trying to avoid making prints if I don't have a use for them. I am moving for graduate school in September and don't want to risk ruining or losing them in the move.

FIB: Your work has brought you to many different countries. What equipment do you take with you when you travel? What advice do you have for others as to what supplies to bring?

BF: I'm Traveling to the Middle East for the month of March: one bag- camera equipment goes first, then whatever else I can fit. I always bring my 4x5 and a minimum of 100 sheets. I have had to ration my film.I like to have a backup camera (I cringe as I write this) having a decent digital camera is really a great way to travel. You don't have to worry about film being ruined by the x-ray, pay for processing, you can retake and delete. Especially if you want to obsessively document everything.

When photographing strangers: people see western tourists and assume that you have a lot of money. Carry around lose change if you want to shoot people in the street, they will want to be compensated.

Take safety measures. The last trip two men came up behind me late at night and ripped my digital camera bag off of me. I bet they were upset when all they got was some postcards and a plastic camera.

FIB: Have you ever experienced any negative reactions while taking someone’s picture without their permission?

BF: Probably? I don't do it often, not on the street too much and when I do I like to be sly about it. I love the yashika t3 for that purpose, it has a super scope which enables nonchalant photographing. I digress.. negative reactions? Yes, from friends... shouting "why do you always have to take pictures?!?!" or "No, No, NO!!!!" and squealing and running away.

FIB: How do you proceed to locate and obtain grants, scholarships, and gallery shows?

BF: This is the work part of work. Long hours of searching the web, filtering through the many lists I am on for calls, hoping I have the cash for the fee and so on. I love to write, but not academically. Grant writing is very stressful, too often I am scrambling to make the deadline. I am very lucky. I am surrounded by a great community of friends and artists. I really value that. We forward calls and grant postings to each other frequently.

FIB: In this day and age where anything can be uploaded online in an instance and anonymous individuals may appropriate your work for other uses, how do you ensure the protection of your work i.e. copywriting?

BF: This is a sticky issue. Appropriated art is really popular right now. There is no way to really 100% protect your work. One can officially have work sent to copy write but I believe that is an expensive and time consuming process. Flickr is pretty good about making it very hard for someone to obtain images if that is the artist's intent. Another method is to utilize flash although I find flash websites more of an annoyance. With screen capture though, I'm not really sure what one can do aside from abstinence from uploading.

FIB: What qualities do you look for in a photograph?

BF: I work a little too intuitively to answer this properly. Good photographs produce a physical reaction. I like strong composition and texture, yes definitely texture.

FIB: What special characteristics do you believe your work possesses?

BF: I'm not sure I know how to answer this question. Honesty.

FIB: Kant’s theory of the relationship between phenomenons and noumenons can be applied to photography as well as many other occasions. Noumenons represent what is in our imagination (a reflection of phenomenons) while phenomenons are something that can be experienced by the senses. The moment that a picture is taken is ephemeral and yet there is proof that the moment occurred through the documentation of photographs. How can a photographer capture a moment and retain its true essence? Do you believe it is possible?

BF: Short answer, no.

The question of truth and photography has been battled since infancy. I love the philosophical argument. It's a question of sematics and semiotics. What is truth? How about sign, symbol and index? A moment is so much more than a visual—for instance Magritte's "Treachery of Images" even he stated, the image "does not satisfy emmotionally." I've been thinking about this subject a lot. A photograph of my cat, no matter how amazing, cannot express or capture the complete. No one can know the sound of her purring, the tactile of fur, or the way she smells. It would be a photo of a cat, but it would not be my cat. We can make attempts to convey specific aspects of moments beyond that of the image. I'd like to think we have the ability to derive meaning and feeling though it will always be twisted. There is the initial experiece which happend in a time and space, with a speciffic set of surroundings. The phograph has removed part of the moment. We have cropped it, and pointed at some fraction but now we have only that to react to. What are we missing on the outside of the frame? That moment is elsewhere. Our personal truths are only as real as we put faith into them—think of them as false idols.

By Ariel Radock

Fill In The Blank Gallery: There are numerous terms associated with social and individual identity. To identify oneself as an artist is a particularly difficult concept utilized to firmly place one’s own character in the world of creative expression. What was your earliest memory of identifying yourself as an artist?

Michael Crockett: I was very young when I started to draw obsessively. By the third grade I was telling people I was an artist. I won't lie and say I knew what that meant at the time, but I was most influenced by Disney movies and 1970's cartoons than I was with any other children's activity. If I could draw then I was content with life. It may have isolated me a bit from other kids when I was young, but as we grew up I had something I could call my own and share with other people. It's not difficult to call yourself an artist as long as you truthfully believe that you are. I have been able to easily identify myself as this because without art I am not complete. 

FIB: For an artist developing his/her own personal style takes time, work, and confidence. What and when did this moment occur for you?

MC: It occurred for me when I learned to separate influence and inspiration from straight out copying. After college I was confused about direction. I kept getting that dreaded comment "that reminds me of..." so I took some time away from my work. I traveled a bunch and played music a lot. In thinking about my work I realized that I was altering the styles I was influenced by. I was referencing someone else's originality. I may have been changing it but I was not finding my voice through it, I was simply following its artistic dialog. Taking that needed step away from my college work allowed me to live my life and find my natural hand again. It's easy to loose your self in other artists work. It's easy to forget what your own hand can do when you're trying to squeeze yourself into a style or ism that exists already. Influences are necessary but we can quickly be mimicking others without realizing we are.

FIB: You recently had your work represented at Art Basil Miami. Could you elaborate upon your experience participating in this celebrated event.

MC: I owe that honor to Art Whino Gallery in National Harbor, MD. I met this gallery owner in a Washington DC show I was in around 2008. An artist named J. Coleman invited me down to participate in a show he was curating. I met J. in the hay day of Myspace. J and I chatted many times about art and the possibility of sharing shows in DC and Boston. I loved how that site worked. It really opened a door of communication that did not exist before. Being able to talk with artists I would never have the pleasure of knowing otherwise. I found people all over the world that were doing interesting things with collage and alternative mediums. This domino effect from online communication brought me to Art Whino. Art Whino's goal is to unleash the work of today’s most underground artists working in the styles known as Low Brow and New Brow. They have one of the largest communities of underground artists anywhere in the US right now. They attended Art Basil Miami this year by bringing together two traveling shows they were curating. I had work traveling with them in the show titled "Life Essentials" which had over 100 artists involved. That show along with their other show titled "Old Skoolin" which also had over 100 artists involved became their entry to Art basil Miami last year. This was the largest show I had ever been involved with. There are tons on photo's here http://www.facebook.com/ArtWhino and here http://artwhino.com/miami/

FIB: Some of your drawings appear to be on pages of old books and notebooks. Is this an aesthetic incentive or another other purpose entirely?

MC: At first I was experimenting with type as texture by layering words into my work that I found in old books. I would cut them out and over lap them so they would create textures and patterns to draw over. I moved into drawing directly on the pages from books as a background for my work, blotting out parts of the pages instead of layering them. I fell in love with the aged color of these pages and began using the faded colors as flesh tones. Today the old paper has grown into a whole new idea for me. Now I can collage these old pages into a story, layering it under the flesh of those I paint. I can use paper ephemera from your own life, such as, hand written letters, favorite photographs and scraps of your own history to map out a visual time capsule of the life you have lived. I want to be more than an artist that can reproduce your likeness, I want to reproduce your history and being. The papers we keep in boxes under our beds and in our closets that remind us of our pasts are what I look for when I search for materials. Old paper is now as important of a medium for me as is the pen or brush.

FIB: Besides having a blog and other websites portraying your work, what made you decide to publish a book? Could you describe your process compiling, publishing, and promoting this exciting occasion.

MC: This book was a great way to showcase what I have been making over the last few years. I have been focusing on portraits which tends to be more of a private relationship between the artist and the patron rather than a shared experience. I wanted a way to bring others into this experience and the best way I could do that was to combine all the portraits into this one book. This way the entire series can be viewed together and you can see the progression from one to the other. Rather than trying to understand who the single portrait is, this book lets you see them all in one context. I feel this allows you to see what I am striving to achieve in portraiture as a whole.

Compiling these images meant being able to capture them digitally and in a printable format. I have studied photography, and graphic design along with drawing and painting so I am capable of digitally formatting my work for my own cataloging and storage. I try to do this with everything I make, if I can. Digital camera, scanner, photoshop and illustrator are also major tools I cannot work without.

Publishing is pretty much painless these days. Blurb.com allows you to create a book easily and free. They will publish one at a time if needed but also in bulk. The quality is amazing, there is no difference between a large publisher and a small printing company these days. The technology has improved so much that print is no longer dead, it's just changed its rules.

Promoting it is a much harder task than you would think, but thanks to online networking sites I can spread the word pretty quickly. Interviews such as yours help send the message across to a larger audience I wouldn't be able to contact otherwise. What I am learning however is that the word may spread fast online but people still hold back from buying online. I still have to be a door to door salesman if I want get them into peoples hands. This means having a bulk of them at my disposal to bring to shows and events. It's always good to have wares to sell at your shows. Having something, especially a book of your art, that everyone can afford is a great way to get your work into the hands of many. You can view the book here www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/1117345

FIB: Currently there is a debate as to whether or not commercial illustrators should be called fine artists. What are your thoughts upon this argument?

MC: My opinion is that there is no difference between the two. If the work looks good on its own merit than it can be whatever the viewer interprets it to be. An image can be used to tell a story and you would call it an illustration, but that same image can stand alone on the wall of a gallery and take on a whole other identity. I believe that illustration or commercial illustration is just defined by the copy presented along with the image and not the image alone.

FIB: Many contemporary illustrators are using Wacom tablets and computers to generate their art. Have you ever considered using such tools in your work or do you prefer to strictly stick with traditional mediums?

MC: I'm a traditional kind of guy. I want my final output to be just that. if you look at my original I want it to be the same as the printed version. I want no difference between the way it looks in an advertisement or article and the way it looks hanging on the wall. I may use the computer to adjust sizes and contrast or to crop the image to fit but I'm not adding anything more to it with the computer. I do like the way technology has made colors and strokes look realistic these days. I think there are wonderful artists out there that have found their voice through the computer. My work however gets its results from being hand done.

FIB: What advice would you give to an emerging artist who has difficulty maintaining an equilibrium of commercial success and artistic integrity?

MC: Do it for yourself first and always. If you are striving to "make it" the reality of that can crush your spirit and you're going to need that if you want to be free from commercial restraints. Artistic integrity is equal to how confident you are with yourself. As long as you continue to believe you are expressing yourself truthfully, your integrity will be solid. I have a job as a commercial illustrator and at times it can slow down my desire to work for myself, but it supports my goals as a fine artist. It allows me to afford the studio space I need to work in, pushing myself further in the world of fine art. I will say that my artistic integrity is not a career path. I do not intend to retire from it as I will commercial illustration.

FIB: What projects are you currently working on?

MC: I am pleased to say this year I am in a new book by Findhorn Press. The author Cat Bennet used many of my drawings with her words to express the different ways drawing can be used to express yourself. You can read about it here catbennett.net/preface-and-introthe-confident-creative/

I'm also working with Terminal Press and their Zombie anthology book series being released this year. 

I would also like to attend a few conventions this year and continue to spread the word of my book and a few toys I've been creating. 

I continue to show my paintings around New England and hope to expand further into the states I haven't shown in yet.

I have a solo music project that will be released in the next month or so. Check out some samples here www.myspace.com/themoonbloods

You can keep up with everything I'm working on here www.facebook.com/hazeleyesstudio or here www.hazeleyesstudio.blogspot.com

Prints of my work can be purchased here www.redbubble.com/hazeleyesstudio or here www.zazzle.com/hazeleyesstudio

Of course I will continue to self publish collections of drawings and paintings through my online publishing company Vesica Books. www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/1117345

I can be contacted here hazeleyesstudio@gmail.com

FIB: Fun bonus question. If you were a love child of two artists, who would they be?

MC: Oh just two won't do... I would make out with Kent Williams, Dave Mckean, James Jean, Lucian Freud, Egon Schiele, Gustav Klimpt, Windsor McCay, Bill Watterson, Lisbeth Zwerger... and so many more. I may contract syphilis but it would be worth it.

The Lives I Wish To Paint

An explanation of the figurative meaning in the works of Michael Crockett.

I am a painter of the human experience. What do I mean by this? I’m referring to the way that I use human elements as a mode to explore and compliment relationships to the individual life I am trying to paint. My paintings must have a connection to the life they are representing. They are more than just interpretations of my subjects. They are collaborations.

I refuse to only paint the shell of the figure. A portrait can stand alone in its beautifully crafted likeness, this I will not dispute. But I will always believe that it can be more than a carefully scrutinized discipline.  As an experimental figurative painter, I have always intended to push the old views to the side and follow my own instincts.

What I have been developing for over 10 years is a new approach to portrait painting. I have learned to incorporate patterns such as type, found objects and paper into my under paintings. Collaging these elements into a gradation of pattern and color that blend together forming many parts of the finished portrait. Some of the ways I have experimented with this collage is to use it to literally form the muscle & bone structure, light and dark papers will affect color and tone or highlights and Shadows. Swirling patterns or photographic images can push and pull the surface creating a real sense of space.

This collage technique has allowed me to incorporate personal elements into whatever painting I am creating. Handwriting and personal messages can be blended into the skin and backgrounds. My subjects may bring me paper ephemera that holds some form of sentimentality for them, to collage into their likeness. Any paper Items such as cards, photos, letters, etc. can be modeled into my portraits. I find this process of layering paper with sentimentality into a portrait of its patron will create a work that not only captures the subjects likeness but share a deeper personal meaning about them.

Lately I have been painting portraits of people in my life. These faces I capture are my people. Those artists and musicians, the worker bees and political thinkers I spend my time with. I do not seek to exaggerate their likeness, but in fact reflect it through my work. They are the folks that make me believe in what it is I wish life to mean. They exemplify, through their own lives, the characteristics I seek within my own. They are not regular people. To me, these people are the reason I am. I do not exist alone. I do not separate myself from them. Together “we” are a reason, a unified reason for life.  The life I wish to paint.

I will always use the figure as a bridge to help connect the way I see and feel. The human form is my favorite vessel for metaphor. Whether it's close personal relationships I'm investigating or my own invented subject matter. The human form is ever present.

I exercise this idea everyday. Sketching quick pen and ink figure drawings over found paper. These are studies in shape and form that I let flow out of me as often as I can. I let go of any reference and allow the subjective thought to escape. These are a great release for me. I display these collections on the wall in overlapping scattered groups. The effect being a massive amalgam of characters dancing across the walls as they do in my mind.

I'm interested in creating a direct relationship between the viewer and the work that is a fresh escape from the norm. I want the viewer to be engaged by what the piece has to say as well as show. They should find themselves wanting to investigate the details of these individuals. From a distance my paintings will be reflections of their subjects, but the closer you get to them the more abstract they will become as they reveal little secrets about themselves. A familiar juxtaposition we all live with as we try to discover the details of ourselves in relation to each other.

by Ariel Radock

As a metalsmith, Rachel Lenzen creates highly personal and unique small sculpture as well as jewelry. Under the tutelage of Jane Weintraub at Northeastern Illinois University, she received a degree in art with an emphasis in metals. Rachel exhibits her work at select galleries throughout Chicago in addition to studying and working under professional jeweler Steff Korsage. She currently lives in Chicago, Illinois.

Fill In The Blank Gallery: For hundreds of thousands of years humans have embraced the inherent desire to adorn themselves in jewelry and possess portable art objects whether it is for symbolic, protective, or merely artistic purposes. As an artist, do you feel that you are part of this history continuing the creative lineage of those who came before you?

Rachel Lenzen: I do. I love looking at the jewelry that others have made. I find it very inspiring but also intriguing. I am very interested in the whole concept of a piece, not just the beauty. I’m interested in what the meaning or intention of the piece is. I think this is something that my work does. There is an entire idea behind it and every part of the piece was made for a reason. It is all very intentional.

FIB: Where does the inspiration for your designs come from? What meaning does it have for you personally?

RL: My art is extremely personal and the inspiration comes mainly from my life experiences. Art for me is in a way a form of release. I feel I am able to fully express the person I am through art. This can be difficult at times because I become very attached to my work and it makes it hard to let it go.

FIB: Do you specifically choose certain materials aesthetically for each object?

RL: Yes. I usually work with copper and silver but it is based on the piece. Most of my jewelry is done in fine and sterling silver and most of my small sculpture work is done in copper. However, I have a few pieces that are a mix of both as well as found objects. It really does depend on the piece because each type of metal gives the piece a different feel.

FIB: How long does it take you to complete a piece?

RL: It depends on the piece. Most of my pieces will take about a month to complete. However there are a few that are less complex so they don’t take as long and few that are more complex so they take longer.

FIB: Do you prefer to create jewelry or small sculpture? Why?

RL: I enjoy small sculpture more. I feel I can express more with small sculpture because I am not as limited with space. I do enjoy making jewelry, which can still have lots of meaning behind it. With jewelry I have to consider the person who may be wearing it which may limit the size, weight, and some materials.

FIB: Do you believe that functionality and form are inseparable? Or do you regard one more dominant than the other in the consideration of design?

RL: I think they go hand in hand. The pieces’ form and function have to work together. Every piece I make has a function of some kind whether it is a piece of jewelry or a sculpture and the form of that piece must coincide with that function. For me they have to work together.

FIB: Is your work strictly one of a kind or is it a production of multiples?

RL: Almost all of my work is one of a kind. I have made a few pins that were similar but each still unique in their decorative aspect.

FIB: What is your biggest frustration and greatest pleasure working with metal?

RL: I think my biggest frustration in working with metal is the cost of metal and sometimes the amount of time it takes to finish a piece. There have been a few times when I have had to scrape together enough money to order silver to make a piece. I also do a lot of research for my pieces before I actually start them. This adds even more time to how long it takes to complete a piece.

My greatest pleasure working with metal as crazy as it may sound is the tediousness nature of it and the end result. I love working with my hands and actually forming something from a flat piece of metal. It is always really exciting to watch my pieces start to come together and turn into something really fantastic.

FIB: Do you wear any jewelry on a daily basis?

RL: I have people ask me that question all the time when they find out that I am a metalsmith, and as funny as it seems I don't. They only thing I really wear on a daily basis are broaches. I have a bunch of my grandmother's broaches, which are more along the lines of costume jewelry but I love them.

FIB: Are there other mediums you enjoy working with as well?

RL: Most recently I have fallen in love with enamel paint. I am not a painter but the feel and look of enamel paint just intrigues me. I have also been doing embroidery work for a little over a year now and I still enjoy taking photographs, which is what I first studied in school before switching to metals.

FIB: If someone, one thousand years from now, excavated your work what do you believe his or her reaction would be? How would you wish them to respond?

RL: I think his or her reaction would be that the work is very unique. I guess I would hope that they would see some sort of beauty in it or find a connection with it in some way. My hope is that people will see my work and they will be pulled in by it but also really question what it is all about.

FIB: What are you working on now?

RL: Right now I have quite a few different ideas written down on paper but have not yet started. I have recently begun to do embroidery work again and I would like to start incorporating that into my metal work. I also been working with a friend to create a book made completely out of metal. This is an idea that I have had for sometime now and am really excited to actually get it started.

by Ariel Radock

artist's website :: marabaker.com 

Fill In The Blank Gallery: When did you start creating these installations and where did the idea originate?

Mara Baker: It all started in a Jewish Deli. In my second year of graduate school I was struggling with direction in my work and was really grasping for any idea to move forward with. I went out to lunch with some friends and over the course of the meal I started playing with my soda straw. I wondered how long a straw I could make and still physically be able to suction liquid from my glass. I then started thinking about the fragility of my imaginary straw. Would it flop around, would it develop kinks? I went to the local grocery store, bought 7 or 8 boxes of cocktail straws and started working. Initially, I was not thinking of creating large-scale installations but rather small, manageable straw structures. The complications began immediately. Cocktail straws have very little structural integrity and I had no idea how to connect them one to another. I tried every single type of glue and tape at home depot, Walgreens and any other craft/hardware store I could think of. Although I was incredibly frustrated, I was intrigued by the absolute unsuitability of the materials I had chosen for the structure I was trying to build. The decision to use water pumps was a direct result of the fact that I could not create a completely airtight straw system. The inevitability of leaking made me want to hijack this flaw and showcase it. I started to think more conceptually about the functionality of my materials and the inherent impossibilities of my machines functioning properly. As I became more adept at making airtight systems the installations became more ambitious. I was always trying to put the proverbial last straw on the camels back.

FIB: What type of materials are best to achieve a tentative operational failure? How do the materials differ with every installation?

MB: I have a couple of criteria when it comes to materials. First and foremost the material must have some visual integrity. For example, all of the straw systems on their most basic level are formal line drawings in space. Secondly, I prefer to use materials that have an intimate human connection. For example, we put our lips on straws (Weather Systems) or we use kitchen sponges to clean our dishes and our houses (Even the Kitchen Sink, 2008). I like the mundane and part of my job as an artist is to retain the essence or basic intrinsic functionality of my materials while at the same time transforming them into something magnificently other. Tentative operational failure is achieved by really paying close attention to the strengths and weaknesses of any given material. For instance, a straw is made of extremely flimsy plastic meant for one time use. This is a weakness. The ‘one time use’ aspect plays directly into how I build the system. I combat the weakness (e.g. reinforce the flimsy plastic with very strong surgical tape), with full knowledge that I will never be able to completely correct or eradicate the weakness. I am thus guaranteed some level of failure. In the interest of full disclosure, I have built systems that did not function at all. However, I have also built systems that functioned too well. What side of the equation I end up on in any given project is a matter of practiced trial and error.

FIB: Technology is prevalent in our everyday lives. Do you feel that it is satirical for you to create an intentional transitory apparatus?

MB: Satire might be the wrong word. However, the work is definitely confronting or rubbing up against ideas of technology. The transitory nature of the installations ultimately is about history, process, cause and effect and ultimately loss. I adore physicality, which in most cases inevitably leads to deterioration. Infrastructure, bodies, things in general, all deteriorate. One of my favorite books currently is The World Without Us, by Alan Weisman. Chapter by chapter it traces what would happen to our world if we were to simply disappear tomorrow. He talks in great detail about the technological systems we have developed to control the natural world. His conclusion: our roads, underground subways, canals (and the list goes on) would quickly return back to an altered but natural ecosystem. I embrace this apocalyptical scenario in my work.

FIB: Would it be of importance if the viewer did not observe the device in action? Can the installation and its derivative be viewed interchangeably or do they need to be witnessed as one? Do you view them as separate?

MB: All of the systems I have built purposefully run for just minutes every day. Part of the reason for this is purely practical. The system breaks down slower with less use and exhibitions tend to run for at least a month. However, the other larger consideration is conceptual. Making the action of the water pumps in minute increments allows the installation to function on both an experiential and analytical level.

When the systems are turned on the straws and tubing shake with the pulse of the water pressure. The overall impression is of something incredibly unstable and volatile. How the system functions and fails is on full display. When the system is inactive, the viewer is given less information and thus has to come up with their own conclusions as to how the system functions. One of my favorite parts of building these complex installations is observing audience response. I enjoy when the viewer has to become a detective of sorts. I have succeeded if they are curious enough to try to figure out what is happening. In this viewing scenario, the work becomes less about action and more about the history of the action and the residue. Ultimately, I believe the work can successfully function as pure action, derivative of the action or any combination of the two.

FIB: There is great beauty to be found within catastrophes. Do you feel that opposites are necessary for one another to exist?

MB: Just yesterday, I was almost drooling over photos I found of the recent fires in California on the New York Times website. However, as I was drooling, I was also incredibly uncomfortable with my gleeful reaction to images of debilitating natural disaster.

My most recent body of drawings, deterioration of:, derives inspiration from the effects of natural disasters on both public and personal infrastructure. My main sources of imagery come from flickr accounts found on the web. I find this personal documentation reflects an obvious sense of loss as well as a fascination with the confounding terror and beauty of the natural world. What leads a person who has just seen their home or property destroyed by the natural forces of nature to take a picture? Is it a need to memorialize? Is there an underlying fascination at the brutality and sheer force of nature? I have found myself more and more looking at the monumental works of artist’s such as Frederic Edwin Church and being wooed by ideas of the sublime. I am uneasy yet drawn to the great beauty found in catastrophe. My gut reaction is that opposites are necessary for one another to exist. Yet I am also glad that I struggle continually with this concept.

FIB: Temporal art is created to intentionally expire. Although your installations are set up to deconstruct, you arrive at a product of inevitable abstraction. How do you feel about this concept?

MB: Good. The work is about much more than temporality or deconstruction. I believe strongly in the experiential potential and power of conceptual, site-specific work. I am also convinced that my work must be driven by both conceptual and visual concerns equally. The abstractions created by the installations are random is some ways, but are also curated. I have a good idea of what kind of residue will happen.

When I finish an installation I take away every residue that will easily leave the site. If drywall pulls of the wall, I take it with me. I am interested in abstraction that reveals a history. The residues come back into my studio where I can derive new meanings and create new works from the leftovers.

FIB: What sort of images have viewers told you they see in your work? What do you see? Is it necessary to see anything at all?

MB: I get a lot of comments about bodily fluids and stains. Some of my other favorites include, a science project gone wrong, arteries, plumbing, tears, cleansing and catharsis. It is not necessary to see anything. I hope that the viewer makes the connection with the process and the action.

FIB: Do you find enjoyment in unpredictability?

MB: I have a love/ hate relationship with unpredictability. My personality is very ‘plan’ or ‘agenda’ oriented and to let go of a predictable, stable outcome is hard work. I went through a stage in my first year of graduate school where I planned everything. The work was meticulous with no surprises. Eventually, I got bored. I have found that my artistic process is reliant on curveballs. I am good at problem solving and my most interesting work happens when something ‘goes wrong’.

FIB: What’s next for you?

MB: I have finished the weather system installation series. I continue to make mini-disaster situations in my studio, but I am focused more on the residue bi-product. As mentioned earlier, I am working on a series of drawings derived from amateur documentation of natural disasters found on flickr. The drawings have allowed me to layer my own manufactured disasters into a history of actual disasters. I am slowly but surely gaining momentum to turn this work into site-specific installations.

by Ariel Radock

artist's website :: kylehbryant.blogspot.com

Fill in the Blank Gallery: What are your work habits? Do you have any specific routines or superstitions while producing art?

Kyle Bryant: I wake up most days around 11 or 12, make coffee and drink it while watching the family of swallows that fly near my eighth floor balcony. I take it easy for a while and then sneak onto the train to my studio around 2 oclock. I try to skate a little every day just to get my mind off of work for a while. When you make your hobby your profession it leaves a serious gap in your free time. By evening I make it to the studio and get to work. If I arrive too early I just end up smoking a lot of cigarettes and pacing around. I think my muse gets in kind of late, and the later I stay the more productive I am.

FIB: Where do you work and what is your process?

KB: Right now I have a studio near Alexanderplatz in Berlin. I'm currently participating in an artist residency. My work right now is focused mostly on the architecture of Berlin. It's really interesting to see the contrast between the Eastern Berlin architecture which all looks the same, and the West Berlin stuff that is equally boring but more unique. The interesting parts of Berlin are mostly in the details and the ignored places.

The work itself is made of woodcut prints. I carve the prints when I need to chill out. I just open the windows and listen to the trains at the station on the other side of the river. It's nice to hear such repetitive sounds when doing such a repetitive task. After I print the blocks I start cutting the prints up to collage them into new pieces. The physical process is pretty simple, finding new relationships between the buildings from different prints is the fun part.

FIB: How do you determine an idea for a piece? What is your inspiration?

KB: I don't really sit down and think about an idea, I usually just sit down and get to work. I think my concepts come from what is going on in my mind when I start working on something and eventually that concept starts to take hold of the piece that it was born from. There is a very harmonious relationship between the theme of a piece and it's form, they are usually born from each other.

FIB: Do you generate ideas through preliminary drawings or is it more ephemeral?

KB: My process is really ephemeral, I usually just sit down and get to work. What happens as a result is usually something I can use, and when it's not I just move on to the next thing. I never do preliminary drawings unless I'm just doing it to keep my hands busy.

FIB: Where do you get the images used in your art?

KB: The imagery comes from going for a bike ride, or a long walk, with my digital camera around Berlin or wherever else I am living. Lately I have found a lot of interesting interpretations of buildings in reflections so I have been taking pictures of car windows.

FIB: Why a black and white color scheme?

KB: I am a minimalist at heart. I strive to keep things simple, I like my coffee black and my whiskey on ice. I also think black and white comes as a by product of the printmaking process. On another level I think the graphic nature of black and white works well as a contrast to the sensory overload that we encounter every day. Advertisements are designed to grab our attention so often they use incredibly saturated colors and loud motifs. I don't want my work to get lost in that world. I am working to create my own world that doesn't immediately reach for the visual language of the world around us.

FIB: What spatial planning do you formulate in relationship to your work? Is it a well thought out pattern or purely organic overlapping?

KB: Most of the time I have absolutely no plan when I start something. I might have a basic idea of shape, or some sort of compositional device that I want to try, but most of the time I find a lot of excitement and enjoyment in the surprises that manifest themselves through the process. Even I'm just doodling or something I just start and let it create itself. I often think that I am much less an artist than a vessel through which artistic energy travels. My work is constantly surprising me and I think that is what keeps me interested in it.

FIB: How long do you typically work on a piece?

KB: I work on it until I think it's done. I don't think about things in terms of time because I don't really believe in time in the sense of a clock, I think of it as moments and memories. I tried to start wearing a watch recently, and the sound of the second hand made me go crazy so I left the watch on a ledge for someone else to find. Time is infinite and it doesn't make sense to me to try to note these specific measurements to keep track of it.

FIB: How do you know when it is complete?

KB: A piece is complete when I can't figure out what else to do with it and everything works harmoniously for me and the piece. If a piece is missing something I will work it until it has what it needs to be healthy and then I leave it to grow into it's own being. It's a lot like raising a child, not that I would know anything about that, but you create this thing, you take care of it until it is old enough to stand on its own and then you come back to it and see how it has changed since your initial conception of it. Pieces change with time, your way of looking at them changes, and after a while you may not even recognize it anymore.

FIB: What elements of an urban environment entice you?

KB: I grew up in a small New England mill town that had this really small "urban center". I found myself hanging out there exploring a lot, constantly searching for new skate spots and in that exploration I found a lot of graffiti, abandoned spaces and new places that I could use for my own purposes.I find that a lot in the cities I have lived in. I think cities give people the opportunity to thrive in creating their own realities. I enjoy discovering new places that I haven't been before, new details, new skate spots, new tags, new stores, new people, new everything. It is the unexpected that keeps me interested in cities.

FIB: What initially sparked your interest in this series? How long have you worked on this concept? How has it evolved?

KB: I started working on this project in the fall of 2008. I had this awful job at the time. I came home one day and I was totally furious about having spent 10 hours at this place and missing a date with my girlfriend at the time because they didn't let me out when I was supposed to leave. I saw this woodblock that I had been drawing sitting on my desk and decided to calm down by carving it. I sat down until three in the morning carving this thing and went to sleep excited to pick up where I left off in the morning. I spent 20 hours carving it and decided that was what I wanted to focus on for the next "block" of my lifespan. I quit my job the next day by putting up signs that said closed during construction on the store and moved to New York City. I spent all of my time there carving blocks, printing them, and eating really good vegan food. Making little prints got boring so I started cutting them up and making cool shapes for city spaces out of them. I had so much fun doing this that I haven't looked back since.

FIB: What architectural features attract you the most and why?

KB: I like the textures of tall buildings, the repeated patterns of balconies, windows, lines of different elements coming together, and the skeleton of buildings under construction. I like the small details in shorter buildings, window moldings, roofs, fire escapes, intircate facades, and ornamental doors. I like texture and detail a lot. I also really like the contrast between how imposing tall buildings can be how intimate a three story apartment can be.

FIB: What is your connection with the depictions of cities in your work? Is it a negative attitude or a more positive and hopeful one?

KB: I don't try to portray the city in one particular light. I think at times it comes across negatively, my aesthetic tends to be aggressive and negative. The places that I create are so densely built up and it doesn't leave much room for anything natural. Growing up surrounded by nature I was always drawn to anything that resembled a city. I think I wanted to be around the tall buildings and away from the trees. As I grow older I want to have both, but I tend to only focus on the architecture in a city, which through my work creates a kind of glorified metropolis.

FIB: What do you wish to convey to those viewing your art?

KB: I want to convey a sense of urgency, chaos and density. I think the modern way of life is too fast and people don't know how to slow down, myself included. There are never any people in my cities. People do not play an important part in the work which is relative to the isolation that people create around themselves in cities these days. As we grow more connected through technology we become less connected in a lo-tech sense. I hope to convey this strange feeling of having to do things, but not knowing why or for whom you are doing those things.

FIB: What advice would you give to emerging artists?

KB: As an emerging artist myself I would just say work, work really hard, and try to show as much as you can.

FIB: What’s next?

KB: I am planning to start populating the cities that I make with people that I would like to hang out with: skateboarders, pretty girls, people who relax in parks, basically the people that I hang out with now. I exist in two realities, the real and the work, both of which can seem isolating. I would prefer to make my work feel more like a party, with lots grilling, skate spots, hip hop music and dancing. You can come if you want to, just be cool about it.

FIB: What would you like to accomplish in the future?

KB: Synchronicity.