Grace Camporeale

"I have finally found something I could spend countless hours doing. Getting lost in my work and finally producing that perfect piece - there's no greater feeling."

Both Grace Camporeale's photographs and her drawings have a softness to them that resonates a certain degree of intimacy. It almost feels as if they are friendly to be around. Generally working small, but quick, you know that these pieces are sincere visions from her consciousness which have not been tainted with the effects of over-thinking.

GE: Your photography seems to freeze an intimate moment. What are you interested in capturing in a photograph?

GC: Basically just that - I want the world to see itself through my eyes. To me, the things I photograph are intimate moments in time, something my eyes alone see. To be able to capture that in a single image, and then display it for everyone else is what makes photography so important to me.

GE: What do you think are the advantages that black and white photography might have over color? What are the advantages film has over digital?
GC: I personally love the strong contrast you can get with black and white. I feel like if some of the pictures I took were to be left in color, only certain aspects of the picture would be noticed and when I photograph something I'm capturing the whole picture, not necessarily a certain fragment.

I have come to love working with film over digital photography. There is something about the process - from taking the picture, to developing the film, to printing - that feels so much more rewarding than digital. I enjoy working to get that perfect picture. I feel that the reward for when you finally print that picture and it comes out exactly how you imagined, it's more rewarding than manipulating your photograph with Photoshop to get what you want.

GE: What is the bridge between drawing and photography for you?
GC: Most of my past studio work has been based off my photography, but it has never just been about the way I use these two mediums together. Rather, it's about the different views I can show of the same thing. My photograph can show a landscape as it is, while my drawing can be very abstract. The biggest connection between these mediums is the strong contrast that I try to capture - that deep, strong black against a sharp white.

GE: How did spending time in Venice influence your work? What other places do you hope to visit for artistic inspiration?
GC: Venice was such an unbelievable experience, filled with new adventures, new people, and new learning experiences. I have never seen anything like the canals of Arsenale, where I lived, nor the blown glass of Murano, where I worked. Spending time in Venice, especially at the biennale, gave me a new direction in my work and allowed me to see my work in a different way. I became focused on the history involved behind a piece. I began thinking not only of the process behind creating a piece, but why I chose that certain picture, what relevance it played in my life, and how I could translate these new feelings into the pictures for others to see. It was an incredible experience, and I have definitely decided in 15-25 years to return back to Venice and experience it all over again. I would also like to travel to cities across the United States and see local museums, as well as South America to connect with my roots and see what inspiration I can draw from there.

GE: As a senior in college, on the brink of graduation, what advice would you give a student just starting her studies in art, or what advice do you wish somebody gave you when you were beginning as an art student?
GC: My favorite thing to tell people about myself is that I came to Marist as an Information Technology major with a minor in Criminal Justice. To go from something as set in their ways as IT to a Bachelor's in Studio Art with a minor in Photography is no small jump, but the real reason is because I finally found something I loved doing. I do love working with computers, but if I had to be stuck behind one for the rest of my life I would not feel as fulfilled as I do when my hands are covered in paint or charcoal. 

I have finally found something I could spend countless hours doing. Getting lost in my work and finally producing that perfect piece - there's no greater feeling. If I were to give advice to a beginning art student, I would say to try everything, and don't be afraid to fail, or use an eraser. You are definitely going to have days when your work is sub-par and you are going to have days when you bust out 20 great pieces, you just have to be patient. Don't be afraid to go looking for inspiration, sometimes it even comes to you in unlikely ways - embrace all of it. You will be criticized, but take all of it and learn from it. Do not be afraid to give someone your honest opinion or receive someone's honest opinion of your work. Enjoy what you're doing, don't complain, and have fun because at the end of the day you have to be happy with your own work before someone else can be. 

GE: Given the immense amount of contemporary art available today, what kind of contemporary artwork captures your attention? What does it need to have in order to stand out, in your eyes, among the rest?
GC: I've never been a big art history person, and even now I don't really have a favorite artist or photographer. I think if someone's work has that strong contrasting tone that I try to capture in my work, then I will stop and take the time to analyze the piece. Also, I love getting close to a piece like a painting and seeing an artist's brush stroke, the ways they applied paint and to what varying degrees in order to get that color or that shadow or tone, etc. It helps give me inspiration for future artwork I will produce, and provides a good foundation, something I can reference back to if ever the need arises.

GE: Is there any work of art that you've encountered in your life that's changed your perception of art?
GC: When I was in Venice, we had to make a presentation on some aspect of the biennale. While traveling to each country, I came across the Israel pavilion. The floor you walk in on was like being underground where all the pipes are exposed and you can even see the dirt underneath the pavilion. Making your way up to the second floor, you see a video playing on the floor below of three men using knives to draw lines in the sand. Continue up the stairs and there's another video. This video was what captured my attention the most and made me want to learn more about the pavilion. It's an almost 12 minute video of a pair of shoes sinking into ice. It doesn't sound like much, but upon further investigation, I found out that the shoes have been submerged in the Dead Sea, covered in the deadly salt, and are slowly sinking into a frozen lake in Gdansk. When you turn around, a third video is playing with three nude women raking their hands through wet sand and slowly melting into the sea, before running back to the top of the screen and starting over. Continuing down the stairs in front of this video, we find a table with laptops all around, a dialogue playing between a bunch of different people, a video playing at various intervals on each laptop depicting the underside of the table, and a little girl going to each person and tying their shoes together. Finally, when you leave the pavilion, there are the shoes from underneath the table arranged outside in a circle with the laces still tied together.

The night before visiting the pavilion, I had spoken with a student from another school about the history behind pieces of art - not just the process, but the actual historical relevance it holds to someone and how much meaning that encompasses underneath the surface. When I saw the Israel pavilion the next day, I fully grasped that concept and felt that the universe was trying to point me in a certain direction. I read more about the pavilion and the artist, Sigalit Landau, and the immense history lesson hidden behind each aspect of the pavilion. I learned about her struggle to bring Israel and its surrounding countries into a more unified pact and what historical prevalence each piece in the show had on her trying to enforce this idea. It was unbelievable to me how much thought and time and dedication went into this pavilion, and I was beyond impressed by her work. I was able to use all I had learned to begin working on my pieces as well, and at the perfect time as I had been having a hard time taking the next step. Sigalit's message, as well as my conversation with a new friend, are some of the memories I hold dear to me and I hope to continue using what I learned in future pieces.

Neon at the Armory

Graphic Echo's regularly scheduled interviews will be back shortly... but for now, a brief discourse on the brightest trend in the art market.

1. “ready-made” by Peter Liversidge
photo: Sean Kelly Gallery

The 2012 Armory Show at 
Pier 94 seemed to be lit by neon lights. As a rough guesstimate, at least one out of every ten gallery booths featured neon art. The alternative medium isn't new to the market (Bruce Nauman first grabbed the glow back in the 60's), but this past week demonstrated how it has been taken upwind by more and more contemporary artists. What is it about neon that has hooked onto the art world and taken hold of dealers and collectors? Have we become the moths to the neon flame?

2. “What Makes Me Understand What I Know? N°1” by He An
photo: Galerie Daniel Templon

3. Drum with neon light and mirror, by Iván Navarro
photo: ArtObserver.com

Bred to capture the attention of the general public, the principle purpose of the neon sign is to attract potential customers and draw in the numbers. The ever-monotonous light of the neon confronts the viewer with a constant source of energy, mesmerizing us as this is phenomena that the human body is physically incapable of achieving. Neon artists could be criticized for using this basic principle of nature against us. Is it just a cheap measure to get our attention? Well, maybe for some.

4. “Fucking Beautiful” by Tim Noble and Sue Webster
photo: Blain Southern

What should be unplugged:

1. “ready-made” by Peter Liversidge at Sean Kelly Gallery
   Under-thought; how many times can you really poke fun at the ready-made? The properties of neon were not used to its advantage here.

What's worth blowing a fuse:

2. “What Makes Me Understand What I Know? N°1” by He An at Galerie Daniel Templon
   Ornate in the traditional Eastern sense, a successful fusion of decorative Chinese art, modern technology and a commentary on contemporary regional culture.
3. Drum with neon light and mirror, by Iván Navarro at Baró Galeria
   The mirror makes this piece appear as if the artist unveiled the bottomless hole that must exist in this spot. Transcendent and enjoyable, something everyone can appreciate.
4. “Fucking Beautiful” by Tim Noble and Sue Webster at Blain Southern
   The aesthetic is simple, each colorful letter works with the whole in the same way each flower belongs in its bouquet. The words are presented like authentic handwriting, as if they were plucked right. from. a diary.

Joan Moffitt [Update]

 

I have to say, I'm really impressed by the quality and quantity of Joan's new work. I believe the words "she's on fire" would be appropriate to use in this case. Joan has taken a totally different direction with her work, while still utilizing the principles established in her past work [ check out Joan's interview from January 2012, http://graphicechoes.blogspot.com/2012/01/joan-moffitt.html ]. The palette is fresh and unexpected, the lines are energetic, and the movements performed by the figures render their agonizing sensations. These prints were made by translating a 2-D image of her sculptures into a linocut, cutting up the plate, and using them to create these spiny figures, which she will then in turn create sculptures from.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mike Ozolnieks

"When I'm working I have to constantly take a step back and look at it from far way. I'll occasionally walk away and do something else because sometimes that first glance when walking back into the studio will tell you everything you need to know about your painting. "

In his paintings, Mike O. provides a variety of contrasting elements that require the viewer to take time with the work and establish their own ideas of where and why connections take place within the piece. The sheer size of the work and the layers of information that are discovered in each painting provoke a real cerebral and emotional experience.

GE: Most of your imagery is very interpretive - why do you feel this is important to your work?

Oil on Canvas. 2011

MO: I used to always have the problem of being too literal with the message I was trying to convey to the viewer. In my more recent paintings, I have tried to become more suggestive and only put things in that are essential to what I’m trying to say. I like to think of interpretation as a way for the artist to let the viewer in on a story about them, it’s humbling. It’s not always easy for me to openly tell everyone about what I am painting about. It also becomes more than just looking at a painting and seeing it for a piece of canvas with paint on it. It’s about stepping into the work and creating an individual interpretation of what it’s about. It makes the painting different to everyone who looks at it; in that sense it is really never just one painting about one thing.

GE: Given the size that you work on, what do you feel is the most challenging thing about working on such a large-scale painting?

MO: When I started working with Ed Smith a couple years ago he had me work on paintings that were about 10' x 6'. I hadn'’t had an extensive amount of experience with oil and I had never worked very big. When he showed me the wall he wanted me to work on, I thought to myself, "Yeah Ed, sick joke." Looking back, it was a way of learning how to swim by being tossed into the pool, and I am so grateful for that. It has helped me so much because now large-scale paintings don’t seem very big at all in comparison to those first canvases. I have grown to love working on a big scale, but with it I’'ve had to learn how to create a relationship with the space. The hardest part in the beginning was always keeping composition in mind no matter what I wanted to include in the painting. It's like getting a new room and trying to figure out the best place for everything. I've also learned by looking at other work that every inch of the canvas doesn'’t need to be highly worked over, as long as it all works together. When I'm working I have to constantly take a step back and look at it from far way. One area could look great until I step back and see it just doesn't fit at all. I'll occasionally walk away and do something else because sometimes that first glance when walking back into the studio will tell you everything you need to know about your painting. Shooting pictures while I work on a painting has always been helpful for me too.

GE: Considering you are presently working on multiple pieces, what about working on a number of pieces at the same time do you like as opposed to the cycle of finishing one work and beginning the next?

MO: I never used to work on multiple pieces even though professors had always told me to. I'd get so wrapped up in one work that it was hard to think beyond it until I was finished. I have learned that working on several pieces can help open up a door to one of them that I wouldn’t have seen otherwise. I used to work on a painting until I would go crazy and never want to look at it again. Having multiple pieces lets me take a break from one and sometimes just vent onto another piece of canvas - oddly enough sometimes that becomes my best work. It has become so beneficial for me because I always like to be working and now I can do that without getting stuck at a dead end on just one of them. I am at my best when I can get momentum and always come into the studio with something I'm excited to work on. It’s so important to me to always make my next painting better than my last and have that outlet to just keep pushing forward.

GE: Which artists are you inspired by?

Oil on Canvas. 2011

MO: This has always been a tough question for me because I tend to find specific pieces from varying artists that I fall in love with, but it's not always about one specific artist; I am the same with my music. Although, ever since I have seen one of J.M.W. Turner'’s paintings in person I have become a huge fan. He has the ability to create beautiful suggestive landscapes with large strokes and flowing colors, but then he'll have detailed areas of the painting that are so developed and intricate. I have always wanted to be able to do that in my work, so it is only natural that his paintings have become inspiration for me. Recently, I have tried to use a more textured style of painting that mirrors the work of Jasper Johns. He fills the space in such an interesting way that he really has no need for imagery in his work at all, his textures are just incredibly successful. I have started to also check out a lot of work by Robert Longo and Anselm Kiefer. I find artwork in all different kind of styles appealing, and I think that’s the beauty of art. I'll always try to take something away from a painting even if I don't like it - there’s always something to learn, even if it’s what not to do. In general, when looking at master painters throughout history, I tend to enjoy the early work they did before they became the well-known artists we know them as today.

GE: How are you hoping to incorporate art into your life after college?

MO: The million dollar question. I think every artist has been asked the wonderful question, "So what do you wanna do?" The real answer is attend graduate school, that's at least what I tell my parents to keep them off my back for now. In looking at it as a general question I honestly see myself working in the world of branding or some form of graphic design. In high school, we were able to design the logo for the school play, after that I was hooked. My work has been very involved in both digital media and studio art. The day will come when I have to probably choose one and I am not excited for that. In a perfect world I would love to paint just because it has become such a part of my life and I don't know how I will do without it. Art will always be a part of my life, just as it has been for as long as I can remember.  It is something I cannot get away from even if I wanted to. If I don't end up having a career in the art field, the foundation that art has given me will always be a part of my work. To be honest, I love not knowing what I’ll be doing after I graduate, all the doors are open for me.

Oil on Canvas. 2011

GE: What do you think it takes to become a successful contemporary artist in today's art world?

MO: I always feel so grateful for the kind of work environment that our studio [Marist College Steel Plant] has. This place has become a home because of the people that have been here to help me get to where I am today. This studio has prepared me for working in the real world, but I won't have those people to tell me why my painting looks so bad and how I can fix it. I think that always being a student of the arts in order to gain knowledge and use that knowledge to help progress your work is extremely important to becoming a successful artist. I like how Pam Avril mentioned in her Graphic Echo interview about creating a personal vocabulary and history to support you. I have a lot of sketchbooks that have filled up over the years and they are the heart and soul of what I do. They are there to always remind me what my work is about and where I've come from.

GE: Given that we live in an era where the definition of art has become utterly ambiguous, do you think that for an object to be considered art it needs to be aesthetically pleasing?

MO: I think the role of an artist is to make something that is visually strong. It is important that when making a piece of art, the intention is to make something that people want to look at. It is always important to provoke an emotional response from the artwork, but I still believe it has to be aesthetically pleasing because you have to see it to feel it. I have always had a struggle between conveying the message I want to get across to the viewer while still thinking about creating a painting that is visually pleasing. Artists that blur the line of what is art, or make something that isn’'t aesthetically pleasing just to say they can isn’t something I am a huge fan of. Being an artist does include sometimes pushing the boundaries and doing something no one has done before. However, there are fundamentals of art that need to considered. I think it goes back to the respect for the arts and being able to still consider something's composition, use of color, technique, etc. If someone doesn'’t take the time to consider all of those things then they are not making a piece of art.  

Oil on Canvas. 2011

GE: Because we are all influenced by other artists and acquire ideas from other artwork, some say that unadultered originality in art is dead. Do you believe this to be true?

MO: I refuse to believe that is true. If it is then we should all close up shop and become art historians. Most, if not all, artists reference past work and use it to help improve their own work. I think that is so important, but it’s about reflecting your own style off of what has been done before. When artists put their own twist on past work there is an infinite amount of possibility for originality. Everyone has a story to tell, and everyone has a different way of telling it. A lot of my work is based off of family and my own experiences. I am not the first to paint about family and personal experiences, nor will I be the last. At the same time, no one will ever have the same relationship with them that I have; the same goes for any other relationship someone has with another person that has impacted their life. My work is a way for me to show how grateful I am for what they have given me. Art gives me that outlet to show what is important to me. Work that is a personal passion will always be original, and no one can take that away from artwork with meaning and heart as its inspiration.

Pamela Avril

"Painting is not an easy path. But you start to build your own history, a vocabulary of your own personal language that you have to fall back on. It gets easier when you have that to draw yourself out from." 

By applying the traditions of Western painting to images of ancient Eastern deities, Pamela Avril fuses the long histories of two very different cultures. Her mark-making creates circuits of thin colored lines that run throughout her paintings like veins, connecting each part of the piece with its whole body. This visualization of connectivity aligns with the ideas she is looking to explore, particularly the degrees of honesty within our consciousnesses as well as what unifies us all as human beings on this earth.

GE: When did you first start painting images of Eastern religious iconography? What sparked your interest in this subject? 
PA: Prior to 2008, I had been painting portraits of contemplatives and studies of my daughter for about a decade. For a decade before that, I had been working much more abstractly and gestural, but even then (about 20 years ago at this point) Eastern imagery would come into play in my work in a very disguised way, although it was too abstract to be read as such. Working with these images in a more direct way is new, starting in 2008. I've always been interested in Eastern culture, music, art and philosophy. I think I actually bought one of the first yoga books that came to the United States in the early 80's.

Rain, Oil on Canvas. 2011

GE: In 2008, there was a significant shift in your approach to painting. What triggered this effect?

PA: For about a decade before 2008, I was doing a lot of investigation of ways to paint from observation. I had been painting abstractly for about 20 years, but I still enjoyed realism. I learned a lot from that period of time. In my journey, I have wiped out any thoughts of hierarchy in painting (i.e. abstract vs. realism). A major influence was that both my kids had an interest in music and I loved to go to their lessons. The teacher would talk about one note being slightly flat. I thought, why should it be different with painting? Painting is like learning to play an instrument, with hours and hours of technical training. This showed me that I needed to keep working and keep training in order to find my voice – to find out how to speak about the things that really matter to me. I knew I needed to keep going and eventually, things started to flow. Work begets work.

GE: Light is very clearly presented as an important element in your pieces. What role does light play in the Eastern religions you are representing?

Birthing Worlds, Oil on Canvas. 2011

PA: Meditation where you visualize certain lights is an important practice in many Eastern religions. Some of my images merge from meditative states and light does come into those visionary aspects. Of course, light is also a metaphor for enlightenment. In terms of painting, I've always been interested in light. In my early studies, I fell in love with Impressionism and its depiction of light in painting.

GE: Given that your figures and their backgrounds become so much a part of each other, do you base your palette and energy of a painting off the figure? Or do you first create the atmosphere of the painting and then incorporate the figure? (Which came first, the chicken or the egg?)

PA: Most of them were the figure first. They begin in my mind more like portraits. The background becomes a radiation of the meaning of that particular figure. Some of them go through many changes throughout the process. I'm inventive as I go; they are painted much in the same manner as abstract painting, which is to dive in and let the process take over. Finding out how it should come into being comes through the process - it's a letting go. I have to let go of what it is I think I want.

Preserver, Oil on Canvas. 2011

GE: Do you ever become frustrated with the way a painting is developing? How do you cope with this frustration?

PA: Yes, it happens regularly. Although there are times when it is nothing but easy and I've had times where I felt, can it really be as easy as this? Those are the times it turns out that others respond to the work most. You can't have expectations and you can't have fear - it's a gradual unfolding of saying yes. When we have expectations and fears of opinions, we prevent ourselves from what we really want to do. Frustration can be excruciating, how deep it can feel. It's like a self-imposed prison we are putting ourselves in. Painting is not an easy path. But you start to build your own history, a vocabulary of your own personal language that you have to fall back on. It gets easier when you have that to draw yourself out from.

GE: What are the advantages of working from a model as opposed to a photograph?

Floating Mountains, Oil on Canvas. 2011

PA: I much prefer a model if it can be accommodated, but the trouble is that it's not always possible. If you're looking at something that has already been transcribed into 2-D, you are only looking at a portion in terms of tone and color. Especially digital imagery really simplifies tone and color. Yes, it is easier to work from 2-D because the decisions are already made for you. When working from life, you decide for yourself what colors, what light. In a photo, the flesh might appear in browns - if we looked at each other, we see pinks and blues. Now if I have to use a photo, I can imagine colors with my memory from working with life. Also, the pressure of time that comes with working with a model is really riveting. The pressure that you put yourself under produces the energy of creating. In a way, it's like a furnace. Pressure can help.

Angie Carafas

"There was a point where I felt like I was being pulled in so many different directions without ever liking any of them enough to follow; I would become lost.  I kept on working through it all and it kept my mind and hands busy until I was able to figure it all out."

As an artist who likes to try her hand in many types of artistic media, 
Angie Carafas is no one trick pony. She has proved herself to be a true storytelling via the means of both animation and photography. While her cartoon characters act out the wacky, comedic adventures drawn from her imagination, her photography narrates a history of a lost people and offers to its viewers a contemplation of time.

GE: Considering you’ve worked in an extensive variety of arts media, which medium do you feel most comfortable with and/or plan to pursue a career in?


AC: I suppose for me it's not a matter of comfort. I like to think I'm fairly comfortable with any medium I’ve tried. Whether I'm very good at them is another matter, but being a very task oriented person, as long as I'm creating something, I'm happy. What I love most is drawing. Somehow my method or love for the medium has led me to animation. Oddly enough, I think I first became aware of it as a creative option in my attempt to stave off boredom in my liberal arts classes. I'd draw pictures on the edges of my notes and then try to make them "move" by quickly flipping through the pages. One thing led to another and suddenly I found myself wanting to make a career of it.



GE: Do you feel there is any hierarchy in different arts media - that a specific medium is considered a “higher” art than another form?

AC: I am not of the mindset that any type of art holds certain superiority over another. In my opinion, graffiti can be just as aesthetically valuable as any painting or sculpture. In terms of material worth in the art world, perhaps this doesn't hold true, but I believe different types of art influences people and society in different ways - you can't look at everything through the same lens. I try not to be prejudiced against any media; however, my own opinion of what I define and consider being art probably ends up leading me down that road.



GE: Your shiny-eyed, pig-tailed animation character – where did that concept come from?

AC: That creature came about as a series of doodles on an expo-marker board in my kitchen. It’s supposed to be used for notes, but I only doodle on it and this character in particular actually started out as a stick figure. It slowly involved into a stick figure with teeth and then a stick figure with a large mouthful of teeth and buggy eyes until it formed into a short pudgy creature that exclaimed whatever messages I needed to write down at the time. I didn't intend to develop a usable character from it, but I ended up forming something akin to an obsession. One day I decided to sit down and draw it out on paper. I suppose because of the length of time and amount of "drafts" it took me to develop it, the creature acquired a strong presence I sought out in my animated characters. Because of its comical proportions I decided to design an animation short around it. 

Essentially the story goes that you see this creature walking along a forest path. It stops when it finds a cupcake on the ground. It keeps walking and finding cupcakes until it stumbles upon a unicorn in a meadow where it watches the unicorn poop out the very same cupcakes it's been eating throughout the short. I can't even begin to tell you where this story concept came from or what the story infers about my mind.



GE: What animations from history do you admire most?


AC: Everybody and their mother would probably tell you Disney is it, as far as animation goes. Their movies are so iconic and account for a lot childhood memories. For me, though, I've always held a special spot for the old Looney Tunes animated by Chuck Jones. Looking back now watching Jerry shatter a wine bottle on a table to stab Tom in the bum probably isn’t kosher for a kid to watch by today's standard but I still love watching those same shows years later. 



GE: Your images of archaic columns have a mysterious nature to them. Can you discuss how these were created and/or what your goals were with these images were?


AC: This image is part of a series of photographs I created while in Venice for a summer abroad program I was accepted into through the Marist College Art Dept. The layout of Venice is both beautiful and kind of sad. It holds a lot of memories and the imprints of times long past. I think coming from New York makes the impact a little more intense – you’re coming from an extremely modern metropolis to a comparatively tiny area that still struggles with the idea of television. Walking through the decaying and aging streets of Venice put into perspective for me the issue of time and the human condition. I wanted to convey the reaction the architecture stirred in me to people back home, namely its relationship between time and the cycle of life and death.

GE: Do you like to share your works in progress with an audience/ fellow artists, or do you prefer to wait until a work is completed to present it to others? Do you think its important get feedback from others while a work is in progress?



AC: I suppose it depends on what I'm trying to do. For my animations I love getting feedback all the time. The most vital part to an animation for me is the crowds’ reaction. So to have different opinions throughout the whole process on the characters I'm developing or the composition of my storyboard panels, helps tremendously. In other instances like with a drawing or painting and sometimes with the technological side of animating I might try to keep the project close to my chest if know people won’t understand or see it in the manner I'm trying to portray until it develops further. In some cases everything doesn't come together until the near end and then I'll have people critique what works and what doesn't and work on from there. All in all though, constructive criticism is an important part of my work process. It doesn't necessarily mean I'll listen to what people have to say but I like knowing others thoughts all the same.



GE: How do you feel you’ve grown as an artist since beginning your professional studies?

AC: I suppose I’m more confident and driven in a way. When I first started out, I was timid and shy - maybe even a little fearful when it came to my work. I was scared to make mistakes. I remember the common worry of the time was, “What if it doesn’t come out right”? 

 I recall becoming really discouraged if a piece didn’t turn out exactly the way I intended. The problem was that I was too close to my work; I couldn’t step back and separate myself from it. I became to easily attached and it impaired my ability to experiment and thus learn, consequently blocking me from working on anything at all for periods of time. It’s been quite the process of trying to loosen up over the years, but I’m better for it and that “fear” has long since been abolished, though I’ll admit at times the old habit returns. My overall mindset, however, toward my methodology has changed and when those obsessive moments occur I can catch myself. It’s also helped a lot that I now have an idea of what I want to pursue. There was a point where I felt like I was being pulled in so many different directions without ever liking any of them enough to follow; I would become lost.  I kept on working through it all (even knowing then that the majority of what I produced was probably crap) and it kept my mind and hands busy until I was able to figure it all out.  So yeah, I’d say I’ve grown… maybe a better appreciation for my abilities and what I want to become and strive for in this life.

Ian Wickham

“Standing before a work that spans an entire wall, completely filling your vision, is like a 

declaration of ‘Look, I think I have 

something important to say.’”

With the use of long brushstrokes, Ian Wickham is conscious of creating the sense of a gravitational downward pull in many of his paintings. This downward motion contrasts with the strong and muscular figures that seem to want to rip right out the surface of the canvas. His vibrant palette is essential to his subject matter with plenty of red tones to agree with the aggressive nature of the imagery and style.

GE: Why have you chosen painting 
as your primary fine art medium?

IW: I've been drawing since I was a child and to a lesser degree, painting as well. There's something about drawing though that puts me in a more analytic mind state. It's a form of art that allows me to develop ideas rather than create finished pieces. Painting on the other hand has a more visceral feeling. In a sense, it lets me stop thinking so much about every line and really get into the creative process. There is something immediate about painting that allows you to quickly work, step back, evaluate what you’ve done, and continue. I’m not a fan of creative processes that take a lot of time and effort, such as printmaking. For me at least, painting is a spontaneous outpouring of my thought process. It lets me quickly work something up, analyze the issues and then make changes.

­GE: You tend to work on large canvases. What is it about large scale that you like?
IW: I think I gravitate towards work that is on a slightly larger scale because I find as a viewer, larger works tend to have more of an impact. There is something about artists that work on a large scale that I feel carries a statement of their ego and aggressiveness. Standing before a work that spans an entire wall, completely filling your vision, is like a declaration of “Look, I think I have something important to say.” I think when it comes to artwork, I have a pretty big ego, and this plays into my choice of size.

GE: Where does your imagery come from? Do you have a vision of your end-product or are you making it up as you go along?

IW: My paintings tend to lean towards a sort of a raw, almost unfinished look. I lean towards abstraction, but often can’t help myself from putting in some kind of figure or recognizable object. I don’t regard myself as an angry, aggressive person, but my imagery has a certain implied violence that I keep returning to. I think I like the idea of struggle within an image, something that works on a subconscious level. 

GE: How does your digital work relate to your studio work?
IW: My digital work has certain aspects that reflect my studio side, often in terms of somewhat darker subject matter. But I also think that I try to mainstream what I do in digital work because I feel like it’s more of a commercial endeavor as opposed to pure expression.

­GE: As an artist who is well versed in the digital side of things, do you think it’s important for all of today’s artists to learn artistic software and web programming?
IW: I think it’s highly important to have at least a basic knowledge of digital tools at this point. Even if it’s just for self-representation purposes, at least you are in control of how your website is going to look or how you want prints of your work to come out. I also think that divide between Fine Arts and Digital Arts is shrinking. Digital tools have so much sophistication at this point that it can be very difficult to tell if something was painted on a canvas or in a Painter-style program with a pen and tablet.

­GE: I understand your parents are artists. How has that influenced your choice of study/artwork?
IW: Yes, both my parents have Masters in Fine Arts and both are painters. I think my work has similarities to both of their styles, with a more thoughtful, analytic approach that my father takes being evident in my drawings. My mother works more abstractly and freely and I think this is much more like my painting. They were always extremely encouraging of anything related to art and often gave me lessons. They were also critical when it came to showing final products and I think this made me at least a little resilient to the critique process. I think towards the end of what would have been high school for me, they allowed me much more freedom to do art as opposed to other academic work. I think this was somewhat pivotal in my choice to study art in college.

­GE: In today’s competitive world, what do you think an artist needs to do to capture the viewer’s attention?
IW: Becoming what we would consider a successful artist in today’s world is one of the most difficult things to do. We live in an era that is not the most conducive to starting artists. There isn’t a style of the times that you can latch onto to become “well known” - which is in itself a kind joke because well known in the art world is not the same as being a famous musical artist or actor. I think what is important right now is doing work that’s really going to say something about the artist. There is so much work out there, and so many working artists that exceptionally skilled in technique, it can be disheartening to many young people that might think it’s impossible to get into the Fine Arts field. But, I honestly think that creating work that comes right from your gut, something very individual and personal will cut through a lot of gimmicks and tricks that may initially appear enticing.