20 Questions with Lain York

I first met Lain York when I moved back to Nashville in 2014, fresh out of Art History grad school, looking to better understand the local art community.  It was apparent to me during our first conversation at Zeitgeist Gallery that Lain is a real deal artist, curator, and gallery director.  I have a feeling that only some of you will know what I mean when I say this, so I’ll go ahead and spell it out for the rest of you: Lain is not full of shit.  He is consistently showing up, making good work, organizing artists, asking difficult questions, and working towards a more sustainable art community in Nashville.  And he has been for decades.

I had the pleasure of conducting an interview with Lain in which he discusses his creative process, curating both locally and overseas, and what is (and isn’t) working for artists in Nashville.  Thank you, Lain!  

Lain York with feline friend

What is your earliest memory of your burgeoning interest in art?
Seeing somebody draw “FRED” with a fat smelly marker on a big pad of paper on Captain Kangaroo.

Fred from television’s Captain Kangaroo. Image provided by Lain York.

How have you witnessed this early interest reveal itself in your current work?
A lifelong interest in drawing (pencil, crayon, marker, pastel, ink, correct tape, etc.)

What motivated and/or inspired you to pursue art making?
When I got out of school, came back to Nashville, and got involved in the artist community, I felt I finally found a practical application for what I was doing. I got to see first-hand what older established studio artists did, how they engaged, and then found my network of creatives working in the area to put on our own shows.

You have been based in Tennessee for decades.  How has being an artist in the South informed your work?
Growing up in such a conservative environment was a challenge, especially in a place like Nashville where there was little to no cultural infrastructure at all. The city has always been an educational and creative media center so there were plenty of smart, well-traveled people to hang with but the prospect of making a living doing what I wanted was zero.

Lower Broadway, Nashville, TN circa 1980’s. Photo provided by Lain York.

This situation also gave some of us the notion that we could create a system in which we could engage and we had plenty of regional colleagues. As backwards as it is, I love the south and I have consistently seen the outside drawn here for various reasons. I never had to move to larger networking centers because the underground we were building brought them to us.

“I love the south and I have consistently seen the outside drawn here for various reasons. I never had to move to larger networking centers because the underground we were building brought them to us.”

Have you had opportunities to show your work in other areas of the country/world?  If so, tell us about it.
The opportunities I got to show out of the country came from the independent networks we built. These were colleagues that we either brought to Nashville for shows or heard about what we were doing. The most fun was a show in a storage facility in Galway, Ireland that brought artists in from all over the EU. The artists there thought we were a bit mad putting the show where we did as it was all we knew how to do in the US. Then they told us we could have gone to the area arts council and ask them to give us money and a gallery. Now that sounded INSANE to us.

Installation from exhibition held in Galway, Ireland storage facility

Installation from exhibition held in Galway, Ireland storage facility

Other opportunities came from curating international shows, bringing them to Nashville, and then putting those on the road.

60 Second Southern Film Festival, Harmony Landing/Pegram, Tennessee. Photo provided by Lain York.

The 60 Second Southern Film Festival brought artists from all over the world to Nashville. There were 60 artists included, all presenting a 60 second piece. The festival traveled to four countries and the only censorship issue we faced was here in Nashville. Cairo, Egypt, a predominantly Muslim country, tastefully navigated homoerotic references where Nashville demanded edited versions (which we refused).

“The 60 Second Southern Film Festival brought artists from all over the world to Nashville. There were 60 artists included, all presenting a 60 second piece. The festival traveled to four countries and the only censorship issue we faced was here in Nashville.”

Do you find that there is a particular voice or point of view that you are only able to activate visually, that does not translate as well through other forms of communication?  If so, why do you think this is?
I feel my work has consistently been a medium to connect me to a spirit world. I believe most human constructs come down to language and creative pursuits are crystalline in that regard in a particular way. That said, the point of view or voice that comes through may not necessarily be my own. My work comes to me in a continuum of ideas others before me had and I get to pick up that conversation and (hopefully) add something to it.

As most “makers” may have experienced, when I reach a particular openness working with material and images and find a particular sensitivity to that media, something unexpected can happen. There is a feeling that one is not alone in the room. Not in a creepy way but a connection to something so much larger that it’s breath taking. And addictive.

I feel this connection bridges my practice in middle Tennessee not only to colleagues in other cities and networks but also across time. I like to believe some of the imagery that I end up with may have been on cave walls for 60 million years and something similar may find its way to other galaxies.

“My work comes to me in a continuum of ideas others before me had and I get to pick up that conversation and (hopefully) add something to it... when I reach a particular openness working with material and images and find a particular sensitivity to that media, something unexpected can happen. There is a feeling that one is not alone in the room. Not in a creepy way but a connection to something so much larger that it’s breath taking. And addictive.”

Your imagery has an abstract, playful aesthetic.  What motivates you to work in this manner?
I believe my work is fun to make. Process has always been the payoff. I also believe that humor is a very specific language; it transmits compassion, a particular sense of knowing that invites a viewer in, broadens the interpretation of the work, and pulls the rug out from under it if necessary.

I consider you to be a pillar in the Nashville art community.  Have you ever collaborated with area artists on projects, and if so, what were some of your favorites/stand-outs in your mind?  
Thank you!

I think most everything I’ve done has been a collaboration in one way or another. Any untitled show was all that as the show functioned as one big collaborative installation. Another of the tops would have to be working with Donna Tauscher on a show for the Fugitive Art Center. Donna is an amazing artist, soul, and writer (she wrote The Han Solo Star Wars Journal when she was working for Lucas film back in the day but never told anyone). Donna also hit the Nashville streets at night leaving phrases like “I am the blind astronaut searching for you” and “a maverick radar guides fate” all over town in her signature yellow enamel.

A Maverick Radar Guides Fate, Donna Tauscher. Photo provided by Lain York.

You have also been a gallery director at Zeitgeist for years.  How has your experience as a curator informed your artmaking?
I would say my professional experience overall with the contemporary art industry has had more of an effect on my work than the curating. The closer I got to the moving parts of the upper tiers of the industry, the further away my practice seemed to move from it. I love working directly with artists and putting together/installing exhibitions is my wheelhouse. This proximity has helped me define my practice as my own. Along with that I suppose is that when I traffic in such richly engaging conversations all the time, there is a particular firewall that goes up to ensure I can stay focused on what my work is about.

What have been some of the biggest hurdles you’ve witnessed as a curator and gallery director in Nashville?
Well, the fact that the city and business community have never supported the art community is one. I believe we found a work-around in the late 80’s through the early aughts by building an extremely formidable independent community that has paid huge dividends for more than a few interests. I wish just one of those interests was the sustainability of the studio community. Another is maintaining consistent dialogue and effective engagement between public arts, museum, academic, independent artist-run, and commercial gallery programming. We’ve seen fits and starts of these entities working together and when they do magic happens; the city is transformed. When they don’t, it pretty much ensures that the city and business community will not take art (or culture industry as a whole) seriously as a legitimate industry and the economic impact these influences have been having on the city for years.

“I believe we found a work-around in the late 80’s through the early aughts by building an extremely formidable independent community that has paid huge dividends for more than a few interests. I wish just one of those interests was the sustainability of the studio community.”

Flip side to the previous question, what are some of the biggest strengths of curating in this area?
The connection I make with artists- they are close and they are lasting. Another is the clout the Nashville scene carries in other markets. It has never been a problem getting artists we respect outside the area to come here to show and engage. They knew the sales probably weren’t going to be here but they love Nashville, its mystique, and its reputation in so many professional creative networks. It lends a particular authenticity to what they take back to larger markets, particularly for the EU-based artists.

What method would you prefer one take when making a critique of your art: a formal, contextual, or expressive approach?  Why?
I am often asked to make critical evaluations of work by artists. I usually deflect by saying, it’s not what you are doing but what you are doing with it. These days I feel there also needs to be a particular community engagement with it that connects people to what you are doing. Folks coming in and loving your work isn’t enough in this market and this political/social climate.

I feel that a formal response to any work should be backed up by its context (medium/application meeting or supporting message) and vice versa. I feel that is the mark of mature work. I like to hear the artist call it out regarding theirs and I try to make it clear in mine. The community I came up in was very critical. This happened in studio conversation, at shows, and in writing. I haven’t seen that kind of dialogue on the table in years (decades?) and I feel we’ve all suffered for it.

But these are very different times. Language now is very different from that of 5 years ago. It’s evolving faster and faster and we’ve yet to definitively sort this. This is where I think a professional community of writers operating outside the studio community in a professional capacity could help. That said, there is a reason poetry has been inextricably linked to painting. Super-powered language is needed to convey a non-verbal medium in swiftly moving times.

“...there is a reason poetry has been inextricably linked to painting. Super-powered language is needed to convey a non-verbal medium in swiftly moving times.”

Who and/or what are some of your biggest artistic influences?  How?  Why?
Picasso/Matisse/Basquiat. The biggest may be Cy Twombly.

Twombly’s drawing strategies (or lack thereof) were a lighting strike. Of course, the first exposure yielded an, “Okay, how does he get away with THAT?!!”

 Digging deeper and working somatically like that tied it all up neatly and at the same time opened up so many new avenues. My drawing skills were pretty developed at the time and letting go of those was powerful. That moment almost totally irradicated my interest in working in realism. It also seriously eroded my skill and I never went back- it was a particular escape velocity and I am very grateful for it.

How does your work demonstrate departure from the above influences?
The current work up at Zeitgeist features birch panels with graphite and correct tape. I’m not sure there is much of a departure there. I’ve always considered myself a figurative abstract painter (figurative working from nature). If there’s no figure present, it stepped aside; if the image is obscured, it accreted under texture and material or got totally buried; no color, got tossed out. In this case as there was a mark, it was “corrected” and made “to be nothing.”

Installation of Lain York’s work at Zeitgeist Gallery.

What upcoming projects and/or exhibitions do you have planned within the next 12 months?
I’m currently working on an opportunity somewhere to show with Briena Harmening. I really enjoy her, her work, and our involvement with an independent group of Donelson/Hermitage-based artists.

Briena Harmening, Grab the Popcorn, Trapunto stitched letters on fabric with crocheted blanket and airbrush.

I’m planning on a series of 48 x 48” canvases with drawings I have been working on for the past 4 years,

Untitled by Lain York

All images relate to garage rock I have been recording and posting on Spotify and Bandcamp under the name atomicpork.

What are your goals for your art within the next 12 months? 
At this point helping organize local shows featuring work/performances relevant to this exciting moment in American/world history that responsibly, compassionately, and constructively move the general well-being of all flora and fauna on this planet forward and gently nestle them into the rightful spots the Benevolent Universal Presence has planned for us all.

Non-art question time: What’s your favorite food and drink?
That would be peperoni pizza and Budweiser.

Band(s) and/or record(s)?
At the moment: Foodman/Moriyama and OOIOO/Gamel

Movie(s)?
2001: a Space Odyssey

Money’s not a factor, you will burn no social bridges, and you’re guaranteed a comfortable lifestyle no matter what—where would you live, and what would you do?
Sit quietly in a semi-darkened room in the house I bought in 1993 in Nashville, TN in relative silence and Individuate, Integrate, and grow in accordance with my inner directives (as dictated by CG Jung and B Kliban).

Political cartoon provided by Lain York

Anything else you’d like to add?
Make stuff, show art- what could go wrong?

Lain York is a visual artist, musician, curator, and gallery director for the Zeitgeist Gallery in Nashville, TN. You can learn more about his work at LainYork.com, and listen to his music on Spotify and Bandcamp under the moniker atomicpork.

20 Questions with Khara Woods

Memphis-based artist Khara Woods’s solo exhibition Edgewise: Exploring Pattern and Rhythm with Line closed last month at the Crosstown Concourse.  A show abundant with work founded on geometry, it demonstrated Woods’s talent for making the complex appear seemingly simple.  Or, perhaps it is the other way around.  Nay, both.  Woods is a designer, muralist, and artist (of both two- and three-dimensional media) whose orderly and clean aesthetic presents forms that embody movement, vibration.  This may not seem like a difficult feat, lest the method by which Woods creates; bold lines and polygonal patterns generate rhythmic pulsations despite being definitively static.  While visiting Edgewise, I found myself flowing into a meditative state—hyperaware yet calmly intrigued—by the compositions that adorned the gallery walls.  In this way, Woods’s work has an almost seductive quality.  Cerebral yet charming, the perfect combination. 

The following interview unpacks the inspirations, motivations, and celebrations of artist Khara Woods.   

What is your earliest memory of your burgeoning interest in art?
My mom wrote a book of poems and illustrated each of them, she would read them to me often and I loved her line drawings as much as the words. One was about a little girl whose hair was made of number 8’s. I must’ve been around four or five years old.

How have you witnessed this early interest reveal itself in your current work?
I’m not good at drawing or illustration, but I admire those who are talented at it. I was interested in whimsical illustrations of Shel Silverstein and Ed Emberly’s how to draw books. I would go to the library and get the maximum amount of books (I think it was 25) most would be comic books and graphic novels of all sorts. I loved them and wanted to be a cartoonist when I got older. I was really into Garfield books. I can see some of the comic style visible in the way I use primary colors and line and dot patterns in my design and paintings.

What motivated and/or inspired you to pursue art making and design?
I’ve been surrounded by art as far as I can remember. My mom was a maker. She experimented with wire sculpture, painting, writing, and illustration. I admire her so much and saw how much it made her happy and realized it made me happy too.

“I’ve been surrounded by art as far as I can remember. My mom was a maker. She experimented with wire sculpture, painting, writing, and illustration. I admire her so much and saw how much it made her happy and realized it made me happy too.”

In your recent exhibition Edgewise: Exploring Pattern and Rhythm with Line that was on view at the Crosstown Concourse in Memphis, the introduction explains that the works in the show “examine the creation of movement and texture focusing on a restricted set of grids, bold colors and shapes inspired by basic geometry.”  What initially piqued your interest in working within the parameters of the grid and basic geometry?
I’ve always been interested in lines, modular systems, symmetry, and a way to express this was through geometry. It seemed a natural way for me to express this interest. Plus, I was never good at math, but I always enjoyed geometry. It was the only math I, somewhat, understood.

Can you unpack this a bit more for us? How do your static, geometric renderings create movement?
There’s movement in the direction of the lines, movement in the patterns—they turn on, they turn off, the lines alternate, they shift, they vibrate. Some of my pieces, where the lines have tight spaces between them, if you record them with your phone, some sort of banding, moiré pattern is created. It’s a cool byproduct. It feels like animation to me—I love that.

“There’s movement in the direction of the lines, movement in the patterns—they turn on, they turn off, the lines alternate, they shift, they vibrate.”

Edgewise was my introduction to your art. It was an absolutely stunning exhibition. One of the visual elements of your work that I’m particularly drawn to is the impact of negative space in your compositions.  To me, it seemed like the “blank” areas of your work not only further emphasized the magnetism of the rendered forms, but they also maintained a kind of pulse of their own… even if this pulse invites a pause. On your works on wood, this was especially highlighted between the natural grain of the plain that is interrupted by the addition of layered pigment. How does such dynamic between positive and negative space inspire your image making, if at all? What influenced you to paint on wood?
Thank you very much! I’m thrilled at the reception my exhibition received. Still beaming from it. Can’t believe the time passed so quickly and now the show has been de-installed. But yes, the play on the positive and negative does inspire my making. I enjoy exploiting contrasts in my work: neutral and colorful, off and on, symmetry and asymmetry, animated and subdued. I love wood as a material because alone it is beautiful, there’s so much variety, the pattern in the grain, etc. I enjoy working with it for many reasons. 

Many of your paintings’ color palettes and forms express a calm tone. Is this intentional?
No, I see them a bit differently. I’m using color to give contrast and breathe some energy into the work. But I think the repetition that I use could be calming. But it’s not at the forefront of my mind.

Do you find that there is a particular voice or point of view that you are only able to activate visually, that does not translate as well through other forms of communication? If so, why do you think this is?
Yeah, I’ve never thought about that, but my work is way bolder than I am. It isn’t timid to start a conversation. I do have a lot to say, I feel, at times, but I keep it to myself. However, in my work I get to say more, more than I ever could on my own.

“... my work is way bolder than I am. It isn’t timid to start a conversation. I do have a lot to say, I feel, at times, but I keep it to myself. However, in my work I get to say more, more than I ever could on my own.”

You are also a muralist, sculptor, and graphic designer. What kinds of murals have you completed, and how do they differ from your fine art?
I’ve done some murals commissioned as a public artist and some commissioned for the type of design and art I make. The public art of course is about what the community wants to see through my artistic lens. There are many people to please when you work on a public art project. Those murals address a particular need in the community. Murals where I have total artistic freedom, are whatever I feel fits the space the best, but they’re always abstract and geometric in style.

I did a little Googling, and saw that you also take photos which capture architectural abstraction and minimalist environs. Do such types of development directly inform your concrete sculptures?
My photos inform my paintings and my sculptural studies. It’s one reason why I enjoy the hobby so much because I get many ideas and it recharges me. I get to see something I feel is beautiful, stretch my legs, train my eyes, and then I attempt to reflect that in my work in some way.

You are from Memphis. What is the city’s art community like, and how does Memphis specifically inspire your creativity, if at all?
Memphis is brimming with creative people. The art community here is thriving. Of course, as artists we could always use space and funding. Yet, Memphis artists are resourceful and are making some fine artwork with what they’ve got. Yes, I think you can see a little Memphis in my work, since a lot of my art is inspired by the architecture that I’ve documented throughout the city. It’s in there.

“Memphis is brimming with creative people. The art community here is thriving. Of course, as artists we could always use space and funding. Yet, Memphis artists are resourceful and are making some fine artwork with what they’ve got.”

What method would you prefer one take when making a critique of your art: a formal, contextual, or expressive approach? Why?
I’m not sure. I once did an open crit night, three or four years ago, and got some pointers from the audience on how to expand my work, but it was nothing formal. So maybe a formal approach the next time I get the opportunity.

Who and/or what are some of your biggest artistic influences? How? Why?
The hard-edge painting, geometric abstraction, op-art movements in art and the art deco, post-modern and brutalism eras in architecture deeply resonate with me. It’s hard to quantify because I love these eras for many reasons. I would say a connection between these styles and movements, for me, would be geometric shapes, all-things linear and I do adore lines. I love Frank Stella, Sol Lewitt and Victor Vasarely.            

How does your work demonstrate departure from the above influences?
I think my work diverges from these influences because it’s distilled through my own lens and experiences, my environment, being a woman in the 21st century, etc.

What upcoming projects and/or exhibitions do you have planned within the next 12 months?
I’m working on some asphalt art projects including crosswalks and intersections around Memphis. Also, I’m making an effort to increase my time in my studio. I have a lot of paintings planned and molds for my concrete studies I’d like to make.

What are your goals for your art within the next 12 months?
I want to increase my time in the woodshop, right now it’s hit or miss. I use the woodshop at Crosstown Arts shared workspace. I want to make some cool concrete and wood sculptures. Sketching ideas for molds now. I would love to get the molds cut using the CNC router at the woodshop.

Non-art question time: What’s your favorite food and drink?
Italian food is my favorite. Never been to Italy—yet. It’s on my list though. But I would eat and drink myself in a food coma there. Would love to visit Florence first. I’m a coffee fanatic. I hear the coffee in Italy is delicious too, so there’s another reason to visit.

Band(s) and/or record(s)?
Oof! Do we have time?! I love Kasa Overall’s “The Lava is Calm.” I’m listening to lots of jazz again lately, lots of Lonnie Liston Smith and Yusef Lateef, who was born in Chattanooga, TN. “Blue” from V.C.R., who is from Memphis, is in heavy rotation. I listen regularly to Nick Hakim, Q, Charlotte Dos Santos, We Are King, Eddie Chacon, Mamas Gun, Ryo Fukui, Lynda Dawn and on and on and on. Ugh, there are so many.

Movie(s)?
Of course, there’s a whole universe of films I enjoy, but lately I’ve enjoyed watching “The Father” with Olivia Coleman and Anthony Hopkins and “Tokyo Trial”. I like my films quiet and understated and my music loud.

Money’s not a factor, you will burn no social bridges, and you’re guaranteed a comfortable lifestyle no matter what—where would you live, and what would you do?
Fiji—hands down! Would love to listen to the ocean daily, eat tropical fruit and never worry about chilly weather.

Anything else you’d like to add?
That’s all folks!

To learn more about Khara Woods and her work, please visit her online at www.kharawoods.com and on her Instagram page @khara0ke_studio.

20 Questions with Ryan Rado

I met artist and curator Ryan Rado during May’s Art Crawl when he stopped by Red 225.  Little did I know what an accomplished individual he is in Nashville’s creative community.  Having worked in the music industry for years prior to picking up a paint brush, Rado’s take on action painting is imbued with retrospection. His current exhibition titled Detroit was Always a Mystery to Me hints at this via an assembly of paintings that reference memories of Rado’s childhood lived in Michigan, albeit through forms of pure abstraction explored using dark palettes atop large planes of velvet.  These paintings are incredibly visceral and haunting.  While I was visiting the exhibition, I kept thinking about connections between psychology and art because it is quite clear that Rado’s work is emotionally uninhibited.  It views like a raw, exposed nerve, and is thus quite brave and beautiful.  Detroit was Always a Mystery to Me is co-curated by Alyssa Beach, and can be seen at the Rock Wall Gallery in Houston Station where Rado also curates.  The following interview unpacks motivations behind this exhibition, as well as other facets in life that keep Rado inspired and grateful. 

What is your earliest memory of your burgeoning interest in art?
I used to draw my Air-Jordans on notebook paper around age 11/12.  I wish I still had those drawings, but they’re long gone.

How have you witnessed this early interest reveal itself in your current work?
I experienced a lot of violence and familial abuse as a child, I realize now that drawing for hours in my room was a way to escape that heaviness and an intuitive effort to stay intact with myself in massive amount of chaos.  It’s a similar experience now, but one of the previously unconscious aspects to the solitude is now isolation.  I suppose I was creating both back then, but repressed how isolated I felt being stuck inside a house filled with so much unrest.  It seems a little cliche, but painting is a way to process those feelings and thoughts of loneliness and solitude as an adult.  The two blur together a lot of the time, for me at least.

What motivated and/or inspired you to pursue painting?
I went toward music for a few decades, and was heavily involved in that industry and the local scenes in Michigan and here in Nashville.  In 2014 I started painting “out of nowhere,” or what seemed like it.  It was more of a feeling that was brought forth from the earlier time in my life.  Familiar, solitary, exciting.  Painting and the act of painting provided me complete jurisdiction over a space. I made all the decisions, felt in control of parts of my life when I felt purposeless.  Now, the words “complete control” feel so far away from my current practice, even down to the handling of the materials. They have their own consciousness and can be influenced, but not completely cointrolled, thank God.

The texture and perception of depth that you’re able to create on your velvet paintings is particularly alluring. Why did you select velvet as a foundation for your artwork?
Thank you.  I chose velvet more or less because of my previous understanding that it was “frowned upon” by the more clinical, institutional types.  I wanted to see what it felt like to make work with materials that were considered to be cheap garbage by academics.  I’m realizing now that my previous understanding was informed by one person’s view of how velvet paintings are received by critics.  I didn’t do my own research, and am now seeing that it was more of a compulsion to say NO to this particular person.  I could’ve just said I disagree, but put it into a passive action which has been unconscious until now answering your question. 

Many of your paintings’ color palettes and forms express a somber tone. Is this intentional?
Somber.. I like that word.  I love how I feel when I say it, even more when I pay attention to the WAY I say it.  The quality of it.  Somber, for me, is filled with compassion, sadness and meaning.  The most meaningful aspects of life are found in our tears, even more, in our recognition of our own sadness. And that could be a big reason most of us tend to avoid tears and sadness; it’s overwhelming. And that’s why I think it’s so crucial to spend time exploring those internal spaces.  I’m also a romantic and romantic painter, at least, that’s what I believe about myself right now, subject to change. 

“Somber, for me, is filled with compassion, sadness and meaning. The most meaningful aspects of life are found in our tears, even more, in our recognition of our own sadness. And that could be a big reason most of us tend to avoid tears and sadness; it’s overwhelming.”

Do you find that there is a particular voice or point of view that you are only able to activate visually, that does not translate as well through other forms of communication? If so, why do you think this is?
I think the point of view is that of The Observer, the metacognition of my own story and the stories I tend to create about my history coupled with my current feelings.  This way I can document more of the narrative I’ve helped create for myself along the way. I hope it’s an effort to change that narrative over time the more I observe it.  This process is more felt than known. I liken it to when we make attempts to describe God with words.  We feel God, we don’t intellectually know God.

The work in your current exhibition Detroit Was Always a Mystery to Me at the Rockwall Gallery is said to be inspired by your relationship with your hometown and your father. What was it like growing up in Detroit?
I didn’t grow up in Detroit.  I grew up mainly in Howell and some in Farmington Hills.  I was always listening to Detroit radio stations, and would hear talk of landmarks, events and personalities in Detroit. I made up stories about all of them existing together, but separate. I did the same with my Father. I didn’t see him much and made up a lot about who he was.  These stories were heavily influenced by what my Mother thought of him overall, most of which wasn’t favorable.  Parents, don’t do that shit to your kids at one hundred percent.. Leave some wiggle room for everyone to change, even you.

Now that you are a father, has your attitude towards your relationship with your dad changed? If so, how?
Yeah, I have a lot more grace and understanding for the efforts he did make.  He did what he could with the consciousness he had at the trime.  Now that he’s gone, the contempt for him and his lack of effort has vanished, 

Why did you decide to move to Nashville?
The circumstantial answer is, I had to get away from a crazy girl. 

This exhibition was also co-presented by The Forge and the Risology Club. How are these two organizations involved in the show?
The Forge’s Alyssa Beach is co-curator of this show and has helped me with several different art-related events I’ve hosted in the past at The Forge.  Grateful for her help and vision. Josh Shearon at Risology Club and I are producing a booklet associated with the story and works in this current exhibition.

What method would you prefer one take when making a critique of your art: a formal, contextual, or expressive approach? Why?
I’d love to hear a critique from all of these approaches.  I’m mostly always curious about anyone’s projections related to my work.  Speaking or writing about a piece of art is rarely about the artwork itself.  It seems to be more related to the conditioning of mind and sub-conscious material showing up for the critic. There’s really no way around that. I also respect the hierarchy of the art world as an institution, and despise it.  There has to be structures and lenses through which art is processed and judged for the continuance of its worth and purpose, even more how we relate to it all (which could be the greatest worth and purpose).  Otherwise, like anything else, art and its value will dissolve.  Do we really want that just to feel like our art is acceptable?  Who are we looking to be accepted by?  Speaking for myself, I want my art to be accepted by what or who I've put in a position of authority over myself.  A quote comes to mind : “We don’t know how things really are, we only know how they are for us.” 

“Speaking or writing about a piece of art is rarely about the artwork itself. It seems to be more related to the conditioning of mind and sub-conscious material showing up for the critic. There’s really no way around that.”

Who and/or what are some of your biggest artistic influences? How? Why?
That word somber comes back up for me. Peter Paul Reubens, Goya, Bacon, Renoir, Richter, Robert Frost, Emily Dickinson, Michigan Winters, family strife and reconciliation.  How?  I gravitate toward the content of any artistic work.  I like darkness with glints of light. It could be the heaviness of my upbringing and how sensitive I was/am to the feelings or reconciliation and vulnerable communication.  Why? Not sure I ever want to define that.

How does your work demonstrate departure from the above influences?
As far as some of these influences go, at this point, I don’t possess the technical skills they did.  If I attempt to emulate and aspects of their work, it’s from feeling. I work mostly from feeling.  I relate, again, to the somber, dark night of the soul present in their work, or what I interpret in their work.  I have a hard time connecting with puppy dogs and ice cream pop-art, or overtly political art. 

You are also a curator for Rockwall Gallery. How did you come to curate, and in this space specifically?
Yep, I am.  I had a solo show early on in my career at Abrasive Media upstairs inside Houston Station.  The building owner liked the work I was doing and asked me to curate the building. I agreed to curate the space downstairs that is now Rock Wall Gallery. I don’t know for how long I’ll be doing it, but for now it’s a good opportunity.

What upcoming projects and/or exhibitions do you have planned within the next 12 months?
Hard to admit, but not much.  I’m day by day right now.

What are your goals for your art within the next 12 months?
It’s hard to think about the next 12 months especially while taking care of a two-and-a-half year old.  But, I’d like to get this collection of work out of Nashville.  I’d like to see it primarily in Detroit, Chicago, Philly and DC, who knows.  I’m going to keep working as much as possible and find more consistency in my work.  I’ve been all over the place for too long

“I’m going to keep working as much as possible and find more consistency in my work. I’ve been all over the place for too long.”

Non-art question time: What’s your favorite food and drink?
Starbucks, basically.

Band(s) and/or record(s)?
Older Smashing Pumpkins, Quicksand, 1975, Nine Inch Nails, Souls Of Mischief, Tool, Sarah Mclachlan, Velour 100, anything with heart

Movie(s)?
Currently watched Shawshank Redemption, The Equalizer, Brokeback Mountain, Interstellar, Sausage Party, BEEF.

Money’s not a factor, you will burn no social bridges, and you’re guaranteed a comfortable lifestyle no matter what—where would you live, and what would you do?
Probably live in NYC, Detroit making my work, doing some residencies, building and maintaining a butterfly house, curating shows, doing Ontological work with celebrities and artists in general.  Not worrying for the sake of needing something to gain control over, continuing group therapy, and being Harrison’s dad.

Anything else you’d like to add?
Everything I’ve written here as answers is subject to change at any time without notice.  Thank you for your time.

To learn more about Ryan Rado and his work, please visit him online at www.ryanrado.com and on his Instagram page @ryanrado. The Rock Wall Gallery is located within Houston Station at 434 Houston Street, Nashville, TN 37203, as well as on Instagram @rock_wall_gallery.

Exhibition Review: "Rise" at Modfellows Gallery

Hot.  If only one word could be used to describe Modfellows’s exhibition Rise, this is it.  Showcasing work by artists Cara Lynch and Suzy Smith, Rise consists of paintings that are obviously bold, bright, and provocative.  Lynch is a multidisciplinary artist based in Nashville and NYC whose eye for abstraction makes me weak in the knees.  Her collection of work delivers forms that appear fractured, like floral illustrations kaleidoscopically gyrated, balanced yet disinterested in symmetry.  Smith resides in Albuquerque, and paints crazy gorgeous women who don’t seem to care about the male gaze, all the while fully grasping what it is.  Art historical references to Pop art heavy hitters such as Warhol, Lichtenstein, and Thiebaud are included in some of Smith’s paintings, further intensifying the awareness of youth and sex rendered inextricable to commodification, a burden disproportionately thwarted upon women.  Smith is wise, though, in pushing such references to her paintings’ backgrounds, her female figures rendered atop, tough, poised, possibly adorning accessories of fashions past, as if to ask, “Okay, what’s next?”

Rise is on exhibit until July 1st at Modfellows gallery.
3655 Trousdale Dr. Studio C, Nashville, TN 37204

20 Questions with Brooke Hailey

Since opening the Red 225 gallery in February 2023, two of the questions that I’m most frequently asked are, “Are you an artist?” to which I reply, “No, not really,” which then elicits the follow-up question, “You mean, you do all of this just because you like art?”  For some reason, the premise of a curator can confuse people.  Why would one want to dedicate hours of their life in support of sharing another’s creative work?  In the following interview with curator Brooke Hailey, such puzzle is unpacked.  The sole proprietor of Femme Gallery located in Germantown’s 100 Taylor Arts Market, Hailey is an art historian and curator who has been working in the exhibitions field for years.  Their latest projects are dedicated to expanding conversations that concern topics of gender and sexual identity, particularly as it pertains to social injustice faced by those in the LGBTQ+ community.  Hailey is unafraid to seek and share work that is provocative, a practice that is necessary if public discourse surrounding sexuality is to evolve.

What is your earliest memory of your burgeoning interest in art?

I’ve always been a creative person, but I gained a passion for art in Art History classes in high school. I then continued to study throughout undergrad and then decided when I graduated at 20 to continue to pursue my interest in art in graduate school. I then was studying and working at the Whitechapel Gallery and took volunteer positions at various other galleries. That is when I felt really confident that my interest in art would be my passion.

How have you witnessed this early interest reveal itself in your work as a curator?

Regarding my early interest, I think my curiosity really comes out in my role as a curator. I am interested in learning about anything and everything, and that along with my ability to keep pushing forward really makes my work.

What motivated and/or inspired you to open Femme Gallery?

It was a combination of a hospital stay where I discovered I have a chronic illness and lack of opportunities for curators in Nashville. I wanted to curate and I wasn’t going to wait for a position to pop up, so I decided to create my own opportunities for myself and other artists.

“I wanted to curate and I wasn’t going to wait for a position to pop up, so I decided to create my own opportunities for myself and other artists.”

What artists have you shown at Femme?

Bridget Bailey

Rae Yo Young

Courtney Adair Johnson

Kirby Miles

Emily April Allen

Ali El-Chaer

How do you select what artists/artwork to exhibit?

I select artists based on a few factors. The work is obviously an important part. I am drawn to work that really embodies the artist. I also think, “does the piece spark curiosity?”. I want to be drawn into the piece and want to know everything about the background and story and even the process of creation. It’s more of a feeling I get when I look at a piece. I also use my art historian background to really process concepts that pieces discuss and its place in the art historical context is important too.

Has the southeastern US, and specifically the city of Nashville, had any particular impact on your curatorial practice? Why or why not?

I would say yes. I grew up in the South so the South is a really important place for me. Being able to curate exhibitions with art by Southern queer artists is really important. Trans rights are being taken away in the South, specifically Tennessee, and it's my job to show art by trans people.

You’ve mentioned that you have a graduate degree in Art History and studied overseas. How does such experience inform your curatorial practice?

I have an MA in History of Art from University College London in England. I was able to be thrown into such a big art scene with so many different subcultures that I really got to explore what art can be and the various ways it can be shown. All I did during that time was work in a gallery, write and go to exhibitions. Being in that art scene really gave me the fire to keep pushing and keep working.

What, if any, aspects of the European art world would you like to see unfold in Nashville? What insights or realizations, if any, do you hope your viewers will understand when they visit the exhibitions at Femme?

I would love for Nashville to have more spaces for creation. I have so many art, exhibition, and party ideas and I wish finding spaces to host those things was easier. My biggest stressor as a curator is space.

“I would love for Nashville to have more spaces for creation... My biggest stressor as a curator is space.”

I hope that viewers can understand the idea of an experimental curatorial space. In this city and economy, experimental spaces should be embraced. I always see the coolest art and curation in experimental curatorial spaces. I would also like viewers to understand how supporting artists is for everyone. Buying art is cool.

On the flip side, what are some aspects of Femme’s exhibitions that may not be evident to your audience based solely on its surface/appearance?

I think the biggest one is that FEMME is a one person show. I run every single aspect of FEMME by myself. I’m thankful I get to collaborate with artists, it gives me my sanity. For people that are looking to know more about FEMME, FEMME is a fine art curatorial space that hosts contemporary art. FEMME will continue to host artists that are pushing boundaries and navigating hot topics.

Femme is an unconventional gallery space. How did you acquire it?

I received a grant from Robert Jones with Overton Arts which is located in the 100 Taylor Arts Collective. This grant has given me a public space to show art and throw events and even turn FEMME into an LLC. This grant has changed the game for me and I'm so thankful for Robert’s support.

I think of FEMME more as a concept rather than a space because FEMME is not defined by spaces and that has been proven from its creation. I can create FEMME exhibitions anywhere and I think that is what excites me about it.

A lot of people don’t realize the complexities involved with curating. To any hopeful curators who are reading this interview, what is some advice that you can share that you wish someone had shared with you?

If you’re a curator the best advice that I can give is to just keep curating. Networking is extremely important as well so getting yourself out there is important. I took tons of volunteer opportunities to meet people in the art scene.

What are your goals for Femme within the next 12 months?

My biggest goal is to hopefully transition into a new space where I can host events and curate more exhibitions. We will be offering prints soon which is very exciting. I would also like to continue to collect artist interviews for a book I'm working on.

Goals for your life in general?

My main goal is to be able to feel secure and happy with what I'm doing. As long as I am healthy and get to pursue my creative outlets, I'm set.

“My main goal is to be able to feel secure and happy with what I’m doing. As long as I am healthy and get to pursue my creative outlets, I’m set.”

Since we’ve brought up life in general, what’s your favorite food and drink?

Curries or any type of noodle. I love kombucha. And when I say kombucha I mean making it on my own with different plants from a farm. Stinging nettle Kombucha with a hint of floral-- THAT is my favorite drink.

Band(s) and/or record(s)?

I’m a huge house music fan. Kim Petras, Sophie, Bored Lord.  “Raingurl” by Yaeji is my track of the moment.

Movie(s)?

Juliet of the Spirits is my all time favorite movie. The score combined with the incredible visuals makes it a masterpiece.

Hang spot(s)?

Lipstick lounge.  Any spot that is playing house music.

Weekend activity(ies)?

Dancing, going for walks with friends, gardening, mixing music.

Money’s not a factor, you will burn no social bridges, and you’re guaranteed a comfortable lifestyle no matter what—where would you live, and what would you do?

I would have a home base in Nashville and travel a lot for work. I would continue to run FEMME and curate independently internationally.

Anything else that you’d like to add?

Support trans lives. Donate to local trans-lead organizations or send money to trans people directly.

Hailey’s Femme Gallery is located in the 100 Taylor Arts Market in Germantown, Nashville. You can also follow the gallery’s Instagram account @FemmeArtGallery.

20 Questions with Megan "Meg Jo" Jordan

When I first saw Megan “Meg Jo” Jordan’s paintings in a coffee house, I immediately wanted to learn more about this work. A self-taught artist who recently earned her PhD in Sociology from Vanderbilt University, Jordan creates imagery that confronts paradox.  Her art is sharp, illustrative, bold in its depiction of social justice topics via polychromatic palettes, color choices that appear joyful and perhaps atypical for notably serious subject matter.  Yet Jordan is able to synthesize such seemingly confused elements in a manner that appears effortless, thus creating a space in which topics such as racism, sexism, mental health, climate change, etc. feel safe to discuss.  It is clear that this is the work of an informed artist, one who understands the complexities of her subjects, but is unafraid of any challenges they may pose—artwork that moves toward resolution by raising awareness.  What struck me most about Jordan’s paintings was the sense of hope that they evoked.  At a time in which the nation’s problems seem forever bleak and unyielding, it is both comforting and inspiring to witness one’s raw acknowledgement of said conflicts.  It reminds me that we’re all in this together.

In the following interview, Jordan discusses her artistic explorations.

What is your earliest memory of your burgeoning interest in art?

Growing up my dad used to draw a lot. I had a fascination with lines and a competitive streak to draw everything better than him. So, we would compete over who drew the best horse or car or person or whatever. That’s what got me hooked. I also had an obsession with Dr. Suess books. The use of lines to elicit emotions were super cool to me.

How have you witnessed this early interest reveal itself in your current work?

I would say the whimsical nature of Dr. Suess’s works are a goal of my current work on nature and activism. A lot of the subject matter of my works (racism, mental health, economic inequality, acceptance, humanity, prison abolition, etc.) are depressing and disheartening topics so I try to bring in whimsical shapes, colors, and elements to make the topics more inviting for a wider audience to reflect on.

What motivated and/or inspired you to pursue painting?

First, I truly love color, and sought out a medium that allows me to play with bright colors and create a range of textures. Second, I used to make keychains and jewelry from elementary school through college. I sold in shops and to friends for years. Somewhere along the way, I badly injured my wrist from overworking it. I still craved making, so I needed to find a medium that didn’t put tension on my wrist as much, and painting was it!

“A lot of the subject matter of my works (racism, mental health, economic inequality, acceptance, humanity, prison abolition, etc.) are depressing and disheartening topics so I try to bring in whimsical shapes, colors, and elements to make the topics more inviting for a wider audience to reflect on.”

On your website MegJoArt.com, you identify yourself as a community organizer.  How did you come to pursue this path, and what accomplishments have you achieved thus far?

I first learned what organizing was when I became a summer intern for the American Federation of Labor & Congress of Industrial Organizations (AFL-CIO). I was working as a labor organizer organizing workers at a ‘eco-friendly’ bus manufacturing plant in Alabama. This experience changed my life in many ways and opened my understanding of people power.

As far as ‘accomplishments’ go, I don’t really like to frame experiences as ‘accomplishments’ or ‘wins’ or ‘losses’ because even in dark times and times where things don’t go as planned, we learn what to do differently the next time. Events are learning moments, which can be framed as accomplishments even if the initial goals are not met. My experiences as an organizer in various spaces over the years have taught me more disheartening things than I expected or wished. It has taught me that as long as we are segregated racially, by gender and/or sexuality, etc, we will not win. Collective action across our identity differences, connecting and supporting one another grounded in a shared humanity is the ONLY path forward to alleviating the struggles of the working class and liberating our people.

But if I had to answer I would say my time organizing with Vanderbilt Graduate Workers United at Vanderbilt University, led us to several wins. We got a Mental Health Bill of Rights passed. We successfully made demands to administrators to protect our rights and health as workers during the COVID-19 pandemic, which led to free PPE, two raises, improved working conditions, dental care, and in some cases, extensions to our work contracts. There is still a long way to go as graduate workers can barely afford to live in Nashville even with the raises we were able to win. We still don’t have rights to maternity leave or accountability structures to report workplace discrimination to, because the university has long defined us as “apprentices” not “workers” to shirk responsibilities to protecting our rights as workers.

You are also a PhD candidate at Vanderbilt University.  What do you study?

I am a sociologist who specializes in power, social movements, burnout, and nonromantic love. My dissertation focuses on activists’ experiences with burnout and their retention strategies to keep going in their work.

How do your activism and academics inform your art?

I would say my art is married to my academics and activism. I take lessons I learn in my movement work and my studies and attempt to depict them in inviting ways in my paintings and digital illustrations. My goal is to take complex ideas and simplify them into inviting images.

Do you find that there is a particular voice or point of view that you are only able to activate visually, that does not translate as well through other forms of communication?  If so, why do you think this is?

I worked to share my voice and point of view in my academic writing and my art, but unfortunately the folks I am most interested in speaking to are not reading academic articles, not to their own fault. Academic writing is often elitist and inaccessible. As an academic aware of this, I write to be more accessible, but my field does not reward or take seriously simplified/accessible research. So that’s where my art comes in.

“I would say my art is married to my academics and activism... My goal is to take complex ideas and simplify them into inviting images.”

In your figurative paintings, many of them appear to portray either females or sexless figures.  Is there a certain motivation behind this decision?

As a Black woman artist, I like to depict feminine forms to shed light on womxn’s experiences. I say womxn with an ‘x’ to include nonbinary fems and thems. I desire to tell stories from a fem perspective, because too often our media is portrayed through a White male lens of experience and interest.

My sexless figures, which I call “star people,” are a product of my childhood sketches. I like to use them in works that center our shared human experiences of love, fear, desire for peace, etc.

What role does the subject of nature play in your art?

I like to use nature as a foreground and background that my subjects interact with to show the interconnected nature of people to the planet. We are in nature and of nature. The cycles and symbiosis of nature apply to us as humans as well and how we function in community.

What intersections, if any, do you see between social justice and nature, and how is this revealed in your work?

In my works “Go to the Ground,” “Let Me Spell It Out For You,” and “All Hands” I depict human hands coming from the ground, surrounded by grasses. These hands represent the hands of changemakers (activists) of the present, but also the past. My use of bees in my work is probably my most powerful symbol. As many know, our survival is deeply tied to bees. One third of the world’s food production depends on bees. In my paintings, bees are pollinating the scene to show human dependency and relationship with nature. Often, I depict bees in a symmetrical way to create a feeling of harmony I wish we had with nature.

You have created murals as well.  Tell us more about these projects.

I have worked on a few community mural projects sponsored by Nashville Black Lives Matter, Planned Parenthood of TN, Promised Land Heritage Association, Workers’ Dignity, Black Nashville Assembly, Nashville People’s Budget Coalition, PATHE Nashville, The Frontline, and Unemployed Workers United.

For each project fellow artists and I were tasked in creating an image that resonates with the mission of the organization and the collective sentiment of the time be it love for Black lives, love for those who have received abortions, or working class solidarity in a global pandemic. Our second task was to figure out ways to include the participation of community members in co-creating a meaningful work of art. For the Black Lives Matter street mural, this meant giving community members the chance to fill in the letters with paint. For the Planned Parenthood Mural for ‘Love Notes to Abortion’ this meant providing community members the option to sign their names on the figures of the mural to show love to those impacted by restrictions to abortion access. In other cases, this meant allowing community members to work with us as thought partners to create the subjects of the work.

“I like to use nature as a foreground and background that my subjects interact with to show the interconnected nature of people to the planet. We are in nature and of nature.”

What method would you prefer one take when making a critique of your art: a formal, contextual, or expressive approach?  Why?

I’m a self-taught artist. My knowledge of art-world lingo is somewhat minimal. Being the case, I just want people to vibe with my art. Think about how it makes them feel. Context can be important to know for works I made at the height of BLM summer 2020 protests, but the sentiments are pretty evergreen. So, context isn’t too important.

Who and/or what are some of your biggest artistic influences?  How?  Why?

My art influences change over time. Right now, I am inspired by the works of Carrie Mae Weems, Soji Adesina, Bisa Butler, and Emma Amos.  Carrie Mae Weems’ use of space and contrast and her placement of her subjects gives a sort of drama to her images. The color, use of shapes, and unhuman sizes in the works of Soji Adesina inspire me to be more whimsical in my work. Likewise, Bisa Butler’s use of color and texture to depict black skin and clothing inspires me to be more playful with my subjects. Finally, Emma Amos’s use of cultural symbols encourages me to continue to use charged symbols to promote discourse of culture and conflict.

How does your work demonstrate departure from the above influences?

I think the way I center my subject in nature is a departure. Being that I’m of the millennial generation, climate change is a leading social problem on my mind. So, my works highlight human-nature relationships.

What upcoming projects and/or exhibitions do you have planned within the next 12 months?

In 2023, I will be showing at Nashville International Airport (BNA) January through March and the Brentwood Library in February. Those are the exhibitions that have sure dates.

I have two upcoming projects I am working on in 2023. The first is on sleep and the importance of rest. The second is about women’s freedom. This second project will lean more into natural landscapes and mixed media than I have ever before.

What are your goals for your art within the next 12 months? 

My goals are to challenge myself with my art. Do things I have never tried before and better document my process. I also hope to collaborate with nonprofits to use my art as a communication tool for their audiences, specifically around the topics of antiracism, abortion access, climate change, and environmental sustainability.

“I depict human hands coming from the ground, surrounded by grasses. These hands represent the hands of changemakers (activists) of the present, but also the past. My use of bees in my work is probably my most powerful symbol... In my paintings, bees are pollinating the scene to show human dependency and relationship with nature.”

Non-art question time: What’s your favorite food and drink?

My favorite type of food is Thai, hands down! Panang curry. Drink: Thai iced tea with oatmilk!

Band(s) and/or record(s)?

Albums: A Collection of Fleeting Moments and Daydreams by Orion Sun, Sophomore Slump by Claire Ernst, The Debut Farewell Album by Avenue Beat, Mt. Joy by Mt. Joy

Movie(s)?

Across the Universe; To All the Boys I Loved Before; This Changes Everything; Kiss the Ground; 27 Dresses

Money’s not a factor, you will burn no social bridges, and you’re guaranteed a comfortable lifestyle no matter what—where would you live, and what would you do?

I would live near freshwater, somewhere that’s walkable and bikeable with clean air and not too much noise. A place that has forests and mountains. I would hike all day, paint landscapes, have a garden, and cook amazing vegetarian food with my partner.

To learn more about Meg Jo and her work, please visit her online at www.megjoart.com and at her Instagram page @meggo_jojo.

20 Questions with Jodi Hays

Montage can seem to self-contradict—familiar materials’ oft-repurposed to be unfamiliar albeit recognizable.  Changed but the same.  Akin but different.  So too is memory teased by an interplay of expectation and recontextualization; connection seemingly far reached now at once within grasp.  This highly-personal creative endeavor may yield conceptual results whose physicality can manifest only within a composition, the result of overlapping ideas best articulated palpably.  Jodi Hays’s montages are visual poetry.

Nashville-based, Hays is an artist who grew up in the American South.  Her artwork weaves aspects of subjective narrative within a greater cultural context that includes, but is not limited to, regional sociopolitical and historical foundations, modern and postmodern art theory, and peer conversation.  By incorporating materials such as reclaimed textiles and cardboard with conventional art media, Hays conceives of abstractions that sensitively articulate how context is inextricable to her process.  Though stagnant in its materiality, Hays’s art exudes a momentum of intellectual curiosity and aesthetic bravery.  Multi-layered in their construction, these works lend themselves to storytelling, to enticing viewers to both unpack the motivations behind her material selection, geometric structure, and varying form, as well as delve further into one’s own narrative.  The following interview with Hays addresses some of these topics, while also discussing how the artist handled the pandemic, and what is to unfold over the course of 2021.     

What is your earliest memory of your burgeoning interest in art?
I played on stacks of feed sacks and bales of hay. I collected pine needles and fashioned them into lines, making elaborate house plans with the straw, like inhabited blueprints. My memories of what I began to understand (misunderstand) as “art” are less interesting (yet not unimportant); relegated to paint markers on a yellow school box, crayon on the wall, drawing on my lunch sacks.

How have you witnessed this early interest reveal itself in your current work?
As I came to understand a process independent of an art world definition, I call upon grit, hard work and defiance that often mark those from a rural place.

Tell us about your work. What do you create?
I make abstract work that hinges on my twin loves of painting and materiality. Landscape and the material vocabulary of the American South influence my work. I use reclaimed textiles, fabric, and cardboard in addition to more typical mediums of oil paint, linen, canvas and spray enamel. These materials serve as stand-ins for expressive marks and resourceful labor.

“I make abstract work that hinges on my twin loves of painting and materiality. ”

How has your daily life informed your art making?
My art making is my daily life. The Brooklyn Rail recently ran an interview with Theaster Gates in which he said “ I feel very strongly that I should have a unified life. I'm always living and I'm always making art. I don't stop at 5 p.m.” That is not to say that I do not rest, but resting is the work. Making is the work. Thinking, thrifting, teaching, parenting, painting is all the work.

Your artwork seems to explore the space between assemblage and keen abstract painting—keen meaning that your sense of form reflects knowledge of abstraction’s history. How does the materiality of non-traditional art objects inspire your creative process?
Thank you! There is something improvisational in using materials that one finds in the periphery of a tradition, a convention, a history or a market. I also find “humility of materials[1]” deeply personal (therefore political).

Inversely, how does abstract painting inform your work?
I am a student of painting, which of course includes abstraction, minimalism, high Modernism and design. I am interested in Gerhatd Richter’s ambivalence, Anne Truit’s “Southern Elegy” (among others), the grid of a tobacco basket, and the conceptual implications of all of it.

Who and/or what are some of your biggest artistic influences? How? Why?
My influences are rangey and are not dependent on vocation. Eva Hesse has been a touchstone for decades for her true north compass. More recently, in my last trip to New York (February 2020) I saw a Romare Bearden collage show at DC Moore that continues to impact my practice for their skillful composition, clarity, restraint, scale and palette. Those are just two of the grands[2]. I subsume the words of CD Wright, the late fellow Arkansan, poet and intellectual. Though I did not see the recent show at BAMPFA, I have the Rosie Lee Tompkins (also, Arkansan) catalog.

How does your work demonstrate departure from the above influences?
I like to call my work “sentiminimal.” While I appreciate and ground my work in conversation on what shape and form can do, I also invite an expression and emotional cleave that can inhabit pure design. In often using found or used materials the work becomes a solution for how these vocabularies can unify, forming a new language.

“I like to call my work ‘sentiminimal.’”

How has your art making changed while in quarantine/during 2020 (if at all)?
My studio is in my backyard, so I was able to manifest an uptick in production. My time, though not by any stretch “free,” was immersive, my practice seasoned and I enjoyed some unexpectedly large gains with materials, paper and fabric.

Would you say you were able to make breakthroughs with your work that may not have happened if it wasn’t for the sociopolitical climate of our country over this past year?
Elapsed time will be helpful to better understand all we have been through collectively and how that moves the needle for my work, personally. There were several factors that have contributed equally to what I would call some significant breakthroughs in my practice in 2020, which I recognize as being very bizarre timing. Anne Truitt mentions that when conception happens, you welcome it. So I did, in the very early hours, daily.

That being said, in early quarantine I taught on an online art teaching platform called studioELL. My friend John Ros (NY) developed it years ago, ahead of the curve (there are quite a few that had cropped up by the time 2021 rolled around). I took his course on collage to better get to know the mechanics of the platform. I worked alongside other professional artists, culling and sorting of materials in the home, infused with my love of formal issues, it just caught fire. I took an additional course with Azikiwe Mohommad. I was also mentoring in the Crit Crew for Artist Mother Podcast.

Artwork from John Ros’s quarantine studioELL course, April 2020.

What method would you prefer one take when making a critique of your art: a formal, contextual, or expressive approach? Why?
I enjoy when someone can see the work in its totality and not as either/or. To quote Jack Whitten, “It is very important for me not to separate idea from content from process. The painting must always be seen within the context of forming. The painting is not an illustration of the idea.” I prefer that a writer see the work in its totality, not either/or, but all.

What insights or realizations, if any, do you hope your viewers will understand when they observe your work?
I don’t want to be prescriptive, but I always love going to see a show that makes me want to immediately get back to my studio and make. I’d be nice if my work could do the same for others.

What are some aspects of your work that may not be evident to your audience based solely on its surface/appearance?
I entered abstraction through the back door. I could not make it without Matisse’s Piano Lesson, Richter’s landscapes, Tuyman’s Condoleeza (back at that spot in old MoMA), the heft of Hesse, the certitude of Celmins. I couldn’t expand the field without having camped out in the field for a long time. Thanks to Alma Thomas, Michelle Grabner, Agnes Martin, Beverly Buchanan, and Rosie Tompkins. I see my work in conversation with peers as well, friends like Barbara Campbell Thomas, Karen Dana, Allison Reimus and Vadis Turner, and also Joanne Greenbaum.

“I don’t want to be prescriptive, but I always love going to see a show that makes me want to immediately get back to my studio and make. ”

What upcoming projects and/or exhibitions do you have planned within the next 12 months?
I am in the middle of a collaboration/conversation with Ayanah Moor for Intermission Museum, show is in June 2021. I am headed to a residency this summer at Trillium close to Black Mountain College, as well as to the border of Texas for an artist retreat. There are several group shows in which my work will be included, in addition to a two-person in January at Red Arrow Gallery. I think an exciting solo show is in the works, but I can’t say yet cause I don’t want to jinx it.

What are your goals for your art within the next 12 months?
I have yet to show any of the large scale work from 2020 and this year, so I suppose some of my work is to manifest that. At the residency I will enjoy some solitude, which has been impossible this past year. I will be working towards a few exhibitions, both solo and two person, which means a lot of decisions have to be made regarding post-production, installation, shipping, etc. Though I do set goals, I am in this whole thing for a lifetime.

Non-art question time: What’s your favorite food and drink?
Food made by others with love. Most any drink (but a Stanley Tucci Negroni will do) on a porch or balcony at golden hour.

Band(s) and/or record(s)?
This question gives me stagefright. It always does. I get really self-conscious in ways that I don’t when I talk about my work. After all, I have so many friends that make their living by playing out, touring or supporting the music industry. When I am in the studio, I listen to a very occasional podcast and NPR’s new Nashville music station (91.1). But I find that silence is my favorite, it gets me deep into something special. I suppose I also listen to birds outside my studio, and have become a novice birder (putting out seeds, growing sunflowers to attract Goldfinch).

Movie(s)?
Ted Lasso made me laugh this year.

Money’s not a factor, you will burn no social bridges, and you’re guaranteed a comfortable lifestyle no matter what—where would you live, and what would you do?
As CD Wright says “I am fairly aware of the contradictions in my work and personality. I’m country but sophisticated. I’m particular and concrete, but I’m probing another plane...there are many times when I want to hammer the head. Other times I want to sleep on the hammer.”

So I would split my time between the hills of Arkansas with several A-frame cabins with a giant studio in the rear and a place in New York to rest my traveling head and visit museums.

Anything else that you’d like to add?
Orange Flip. That’s my favorite lipstick color, via my late maternal grandmother (and after whom I am named), Melba Allen Wright.

To learn more about Jodi Hays and her work, please visit her online at www.jodyhays.com and at her Instagram page @JodiHaysPainter. Hays’s work can be seen at the Red Arrow Gallery in Nashville, TN.

Artwork photos by Sam Angel.

[1] Thank you William Petroni, for the apt description

[2] see question 13

20 Questions with Emily Doty

Artist Emily Doty’s abstractions give shape to the intangible.  A marriage of organic forms, willful-yet-scant lines, and all-embracing color palettes, her work channels that which occurs within and physically surfaces only via creative practice.  While her art demonstrates a nod to both early twentieth-century Russian expressionism and New York action painting, Doty’s compositions reveal a vision that resounds tough and contemporary—at times manic and persistent—in a good, unapologetic way.  Her canvases appear brave, as though they demand your attention, yet are indifferent to your opinion. The following interview addresses Doty’s motivations, time spent in Italy, and decision to recently call Nashville home.      

What is your earliest memory of your burgeoning interest in art?
My earliest memories of my interest in art are probably just my bringing crayon drawing after crayon drawing to my parents and grandparents and receiving kind reviews.

How have you witnessed this early interest reveal itself in your current work?
The way that my connection with expression and emotion was encouraged early on helped solidify a way of thinking about certain experiences that allowed (or, required?) translation through art. Being aware of and in turn giving attention to experiences that aren’t easy to categorize or that exist in a kind of suspended duality of feeling, allowed me to pursue them early on. Though I didn’t necessarily have the tools or the forethought at the time - the initial pursuit to explain or make sense out of an abstract experience remained consistent enough that when I had the tools, the knowledge, and the allotted space I had a practiced pattern of thought that helped in that translation. My current work, though not necessarily speaking on early experiences in a literal sense, is a direct result of cultivating a way of thinking and the pursuit of making sense of it.

Your paintings are saturated in vibrant color and abstract forms that seem to both collapse into and rise out of each other. Is there a particular narrative at the foundation of these images?
Yes, absolutely! In the summer of 2019, after a bit of what felt like a drought in my work, I completed a triptych that was painted in tandem with my time at the White River in Indiana. Engaging with the directness of a natural movement, like water flow, tethered my understanding of my experiences to the cyclical narrative of the natural world. Most of recent work deals with my experiences of grief, memory, and a return to a physical place after the abstract feelings you felt there dissipate: a cycle that is easily patterned into the rise and fall of the seasons and the way the natural world experiences time. An emphasis on the movement of nature is a definite narrative tool I use all the time - the relatability of nature’s security and mystery to the journey everyone takes as a human being is unparalleled!

“An emphasis on the movement of nature is a definite narrative tool I use all the time - the relatability of nature’s security and mystery to the journey everyone takes as a human being is unparalleled!”

What motivated you to pursue painting, and would you consider this to be your primary medium of interest?
I didn’t consider painting as my primary interest until Freshman year of college! As an exercise in value assignments required small paintings with palette knives and I immediately connected to the tactility and use of the body in it’s practice. It felt more physical than drawing and more honest than a more design route. I do consider painting to be my primary medium of interest now! Oil painting, especially!

In contrast to the previous question, how did you become involved in printmaking?
My involvement in printmaking began in some early college classes but I really began to pursue it while I was studying in Italy. The school I attended in Italy had a beautiful print studio with a pomegranate tree just outside the windows (so you could grab a snack if you ever needed one!) Up until then I had had my hand in linocuts, woodcuts, engraving, etching/intaglio, etc. but I fell in love with monotypes and that ennobled my involvement outside of class as well!

Selections of Doty’s paintings in hanging in her studio.

Are there any ideas or questions that motivate your printmaking process that are absent from your painting, and if so what are they?
The primary difference between my practice in painting and printmaking is that my painting work feels more viscerally connected to me. Painting looks inward, whereas my printmaking looks outward. The content of my printmaking is typically more process-oriented and requires that I find a way to shift a narrative into a different line weight, color palette, texture, and the nature of the process that allots an almost never ending production of the image. My printmaking feels additional, or just an accompaniment to my paintings!

According to your CV, you spent time studying in Italy. How has this experience influenced your creativity?
My time studying in Italy is so difficult to summarize! In no small way can I describe the weight of that experience! Most notable, and perhaps most relevant to my work, were the countless museums I was able to routinely attend! There was a Modern Art museum that I went to often that influenced the way my work evolved more fully into abstraction.

Since we’re on the topic of locales, what was it like to be an art student in Indiana?
It was okay! I had incredible professors whom I still admire and connect with several years later! Though there aren’t any major museums in Indiana Chicago was a short drive away and many, many trips were made to the Chicago Institute of Art. The landscape was deeply influential to me as well as many of the students I shared work with. It became more of a struggle as I reached the last two years of undergrad when aside from professors, I was the only studio artist in my graduating class. I cannot stress enough how necessary I believe it is to commune with like-minds and pursue critique.

“The primary difference between my practice in painting and printmaking is that my painting work feels more viscerally connected to me. Painting looks inward, whereas my printmaking looks outward. ”

What caused you to move to Nashville?
I moved to Nashville to get out of Indiana for a bit! I had lived there a couple years after college and had exhausted a lot of the opportunities around me. The landscape here is different enough and the quality of moving that more often than not leaves you knowing so little about your new home, and thus encouraging learning, drives my work a great deal!

Do you recognize differences in the art communities between these places, and if so, can you please explain them?
I’ve unfortunately not gotten to experience much of the art community here yet because of the pandemic! But there are several artists here whose work I’ve followed for awhile - who maintain a studio practice and make good work.

What method would you prefer one take when making a critique of your art: a formal, contextual, or expressive approach? Why?
I prefer to begin with a formal critique which addresses my primary concerns of shape, color, composition, etc. I’m less interested in the perceived emotive quality of my work corresponding with it’s intent than I am about the untranslatable language of shape and color at least in the beginning. My primary concern with my work is if it exists as a piece in totality: if the loose ends are tied and shapes and colors exist in a way that ‘works’. I want it to be visually complete. Because I don’t necessarily feel that my work has a message that needs to be tailored - my focus remains on it’s literal, visual existence even though it describes, to me, an abstract experience.

Who and/or what are some of your biggest artistic influences? How? Why?
Oh boy! DeKooning, Kandinsky, Matisse, Helen Frankenthaler, Joan Mitchell, Arshile Gorky, Amy Sillman, Kyle Staver, and Kandinsky are a few that come to mind first. Their use of shape and color teaches me CONSTANTLY. Outside of painting I’m always learning from creatives like David Byrne and David Berman (who’s respective bodies of work are wildly broad and holistic), whatever literature I’m engaged with, or things I’ve seen or discussed on a walk somewhere.

How does your work demonstrate departure from the above influences?
The departure that I recognize between my work and those that I am influenced by lies primarily in the difference in experience, narration, and the subsequent translation through shape and color. Abstract work is so much about body, gesture, and the experience of making. Because the medium is so tactile and personal - it has to originate from the individual, no matter where the learned tools are acquired.

“Abstract work is so much about body, gesture, and the experience of making. Because the medium is so tactile and personal - it has to originate from the individual, no matter where the learned tools are acquired.”

What upcoming projects and/or exhibitions do you have planned within the next 12 months?
Having just relocated here, most of my goals involve getting my ducks in a row, so to speak! I’m hoping to find a studio space in which to begin painting again and get connected to the visual art community in Nashville, in whatever capacity I can! My last exhibition was an online show at the Grunewald Gallery in Bloomington, IN and though I am looking forward to showing work again soon, I really want to feel some ground under my feet before anything! I have a small collection of thoughts I want to extrapolate on as soon as I get the chance as well as a small series of drawings just to keep my hands busy and my mind awake!

What are additional goals do you have for your art within the next 12 months?
I simply cannot wait to have a space and to begin to make again here. My goal is primarily to get connected and make some things!

Non-art question time: What’s your favorite food and drink?
Big, BIG coffee fan! things get dark if I don’t have coffee by 10am! My food of choice is probably falafel - but not WITH coffee.

Band(s) and/or record(s)?
There’s so, so many. As winter approaches I’m listening to a lot of David Berman and R.A.P. Ferreira

Movie(s)?
I’ve been watching a lot of Ingmar Bergman films lately. His color and use of value is incredible!

Money’s not a factor, you will burn no social bridges, and you’re guaranteed a comfortable lifestyle no matter what—where would you live, and what would you do?
I would buy the party-size amount of hummus, live on the coast, and paint! Having access to the facilities to make art (studio, printmaking press, etc) would be the dream.

Anything else that you’d like to add?
I have two darling cats, Margot Tenenbaum and Smooth, who made this interview difficult to answer by walking across the keyboard every chance they got. (But I still love them).

Doty’s felines Smooth and Margot Tenenbaum.

To learn more about Emily Doty and her work, please visit her online at www.EmilyKD.com and at her Instagram page @EmiilyED.

20 Questions with Cari Griffith

I first saw photographer Cari Griffith’s work while waiting in line at Dose coffee shop off of West End in Nashville. Her travel photos were a breath of fresh air, a change of much-needed scenery during a time of quarantine. Griffith is also an accomplished portrait photographer who tenderly captures the nuances of her subjects, bringing vitality to still images. In the following interview, Griffith discusses her process and motivations for both areas of her photographic practice.

What is your earliest memory of your burgeoning interest in photography?
My dad was a film photographer before I was born, and stumbling across his prints from a solo trip out west in his 20s inspired me in both my photography and my love for travel. It was just him, his car, a 35mm, a tripod, and some rad 80s white shorts. A print of his still hangs in my doorway.

How have you witnessed this early interest reveal itself in your current work?
My dad has always been a source of inspiration to me creatively. He was always traveling, and loved spending time outside, so I grew up with my hands in the dirt and an insatiable desire to go places from a very early age. I’ve always been interested in storytelling, and I attribute a lot of my love for little details to my long days spent in my backyard woods as a child.

What motivated and/or inspired you to pursue portrait photography?
I’ve kind of always known I wanted to be a photographer, because it just makes sense to me. I enjoy connecting with people, and through photography I’m able to portray people in a way that highlights that connection in an empowering way.  I’m grateful to have been able to use my craft as full time employment, and that I continue to love what I do more and more each year.

“I’ve kind of always known I wanted to be a photographer, because it just makes sense to me. I enjoy connecting with people, and through photography I’m able to portray people in a way that highlights that connection in an empowering way. ”

How do you make visual connections apparent between the physical appearance of your subjects, and characteristics of their personalities?
In my travel work, I aim to photograph strangers in a dignifying way, and have spent a lot of time thinking about the ethics of true representation in travel/humanitarian work. In my family/couple portrait work, it’s important in choosing locations and timeframes that allow the person to feel comfortable, interactive, and free. Even in my booking forms, I’m asking intentional questions that allow me to represent the person’s true self as much as possible.

How has your portrait photography informed your travel works?
I actually think it’s the other way around! My travel work explores the magic present in a place and captures how human built structures interact within a natural ecosystem, and it’s much easier to see those fascinating details and landscapes when you’re in a new city. Everything just feels so much more captivating when you’re away. I think it takes a lot more work and soul to find that magic in everyday people and places. So, when using regular locations like parks, downtown areas, and spaces around the city, I try to find or creatively employ that magic that I feel when traveling, and help my clients feel fully emotionally present and adventurous even in an ordinary family session.

Should the Covid-19 pandemic see an end, what are your next photo travel plans?
We’re hoping to eventually move to Ireland so I can purse an Art and Ecology masters program, so as soon as it’s safe, we’re heading back there! The Irish landscapes are incredibly expansive and inspiring, and I’m anticipating putting some roots down there and exploring photography purely as an art form and not just an income source.

Have you been able to take a travel photography approach to regional locales, and if so can you describe the experience(s)?
Yes! I had an incredible grant funded opportunity through National Geographic to photograph some regional areas along the Tennessee River. The partnership was with National Geographic’s geo-tourism initiative, and it was a beautiful exploration of all of the areas of thriving biodiversity and culture alongside the river, that might not otherwise be noted. I hiked, canoed, explored tiny museums, photographed turtles and song birds, and went on a pontoon boat ride with a fresh water pearl diver, and genuine mystic. It was an incredibly fulfilling project, and it gave me a deeper appreciation for all of those signs for small towns you see along interstate 40, but will probably never go to.

On your website CariGriffith.com, you identify your photography as, “joyful, vibrant, honest, storytelling.”  What qualities of your work characterize them as joyful and vibrant?  
I especially hope to embody these characteristics in my family portrait and wedding work. I’m a naturally joyful person (although Covid has really put that one to the test), so I hope that whenever a family leaves a session with me, they will feel like they were able to fully represent the connection they have with their family members. I also edit in a way that is vibrant and rich, because that’s how I see colors and nature. Desaturated tones and colors are super in right now, and I just can’t do it personally.

Continuing from the previous question, what are the honest qualities of your work? 
Because I strive to encourage and facilitate connection in my portrait work, I’m never trying to artificially enhance an interaction to create something that isn’t there. A lot of talented photographers are skilled in conceptual or editorial portrait work, and I’m leaving that art form in their hands. My motive is to photograph people just as they are, but in a way that helps them see what the outside world sees in them. The mirror always lies, but through intimate and intentional camera work, I can help show people how beautiful and purposeful they really are.

“I had an incredible grant funded opportunity through National Geographic to photograph some regional areas along the Tennessee River. The partnership was with National Geographic’s geo-tourism initiative, and it was a beautiful exploration of all of the areas of thriving biodiversity and culture alongside the river, that might not otherwise be noted.”

And continuing even further from the previous question pair, what are some of the most noteworthy stories that you have told through your photography?
Early on in my photojournalism work, I was on an assignment at the US/Mexico border town of Laredo, covering a catastrophic flooding of the Rio Grande. I was 19 or 20, navigating Texas with printed google maps pages in a pile on the passenger seat, and calling my dad for maps support on my flip phone - it was a wild adventure. That day I was riding around with a border patrol agent and meeting immigrant families who had been impacted by the severe flooding. I will never forget this one family I met, with a newborn baby in tow, who’s mother was still wearing her hospital bracelet. Their house was completely caked in mud, and she was using their drinking water jug to wash a cut on her middle son’s foot. My job was purely storytelling, in hopes that the organization I was working for could raise funding and support for those working to improve conditions in the border towns. I was immediately faced with an ethical dilemma of representation, dignity, and responsibility. We, of course, communicated with them what we were doing and why, and received permission to photograph their situation, but to this day I wish I had been able to spend the day with them, to really learn their story and ensure that they got the help they needed. To ensure that they didn’t feel exposed or ridiculed in being photographed. I was ushered away by the borden patrol agent within a few minutes, and that moment still haunts me. I’m left with an image of a donated Salvation Army bucket and a sponge, sitting on the floor in a home completely caked to the ceiling with mud. It opened my eyes to the critical issues facing immigrant families, and has shaped both my humanitarian photography and my political activism.

Please describe your preferred photographic medium.  Do you see yourself experimenting with other print techniques?
At the moment I’m shooting with a Sony mirrorless system, but I have my eye on a Contax rangefinder camera, and hoping to explore different film mediums this year.

What method would you prefer one take when making a critique of your art: a formal, contextual, or expressive approach?  Why?
I would assume a contextual critique of my work would be most appropriate, considering that the way I attempt to photograph people and places aims to capture both their unique nature and their fullest self. Although, there is a little bit of self expression in how I photograph, but I don’t always pick up on those elements until much later.

Who and/or what are some of your biggest artistic influences?  How?  Why?
One of my favorite photographers is William Albert Allard. His image “Basque Girls Running Home” made me gasp when I saw it for the first time. He captures light and people in their purest, fullest forms, and has the ability to funnel all of the magic in a person and place into one single image. I just had the privileged of purchasing that image in printed form, and I’m too intimidated to select a frame for such a prized piece of art, so it’s still in the shipping package.

How does your work demonstrate departure from the above influences?
I wouldn’t say that my work is a departure of his, necessarily. But my work does differ from his in terms of content and approach. My portrait work is much more contemporary, but I hope to be able to create travel images like his that create a sense of fullness and wonder in viewers. 

What upcoming projects and/or exhibitions do you have planned within the next 12 months?
I have an exhibition up at both locations of Dose Coffee at the moment, and with the insane unknowns of Covid-19 social life, I don’t anticipate another gallery showing for the next few months. Once the show at Dose comes down, I hope to have a local gallery show with an opportunity to gather folks together and share about my work.

What are your goals for your art within the next 12 months? 
I’m applying for an MFA in Art and Ecology at a small school in Ireland, and hoping to pursue a more intensive approach to involving my love for natural ecosystems and artistic interpretation.

“One of my favorite photographers is William Albert Allard. His image “Basque Girls Running Home” made me gasp when I saw it for the first time... I just had the privileged of purchasing that image in printed form, and I’m too intimidated to select a frame for such a prized piece of art, so it’s still in the shipping package. ”

Non-art question time: What’s your favorite food and drink? I’m not the best at picking  favorites because I’m just generally pretty excited about everything. But a real tasty breakfast biscuit sandwich is always a favorite, and I love just a good ole black iced coffee from Dose Coffee. My favorite meal I’ve ever eaten was at a little family Italian restaurant in Twickenham, near London. I ordered this fresh and handmade salmon ravioli with a lovely delicate dill cream sauce, and my husband got this magical chorizo and scallop dish with a minty pea puree, and it sounds weird, but it was truly revolutionary. We always share dishes together when we order, but I 100% ended up eating most of his. I still think about it. Haha.

Band(s) and/or record(s)? I’m not very cool when it comes to music tastes, because I kind of just listen to the same 3 albums over and over again. But I love 60s/70s folk, like Simon and Garfunkel, Neil Young, James Taylor. But I’ve recently been listening to a lot of Black Gospel choir albums, both new and old. Like Dedicated Men of Zion, and “Do Not Pass Me By” by Pastor T.L. Barrett. It’s just given me a little more communal hope in these dark days.

Movie(s)? I’m going to show my all of nerd cards here real hard, but I watch the Jurassic Park movies and the original Star Wars trilogy at least once a year, and I’m on my second run through all of Dr. Who. I’m a pretty big fan of sci-fi in general. I just watched My Neighbor Totoro, and it is my most recent favorite film, because the way he captures childlike natural wonder and curiosity is flawless.

Money’s not a factor, you will burn no social bridges, and you’re guaranteed a comfortable lifestyle no matter what—where would you live, and what would you do? I would live in Apt, France in the Provence area, with my husband Rob, some good old dogs, and a big garden. And I would never visit or think about America ever again.

To learn more about Cari Griffith and her work, please visit her online at www.CariGriffith.com and at her Instagram page @CariGriffithPhoto.

The following are a selection of Griffith’s travel photography.

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20 Questions with Alex Blau

What is your earliest memory of your burgeoning interest in art?
My grandmother always painted. Whenever we went to visit she would have all her work set up on a table which I thought was really cool. With the exception of a sweet cartooning class when I was around 12, I didn’t draw or paint in my preteen and early teen years. I did have an innate desire to experiment with making, building, burning, mixing and concocting.

How have you witnessed this early interest reveal itself in your current work?
When I started taking formal art classes in college I was drawn to the materials and the process. I was completely immersed in the color and feel of the paint.

Speaking of your current work, tell us about your recent exhibition at Zeitgeist Gallery.  What motivated and/or inspired this show?
The most recent show Chasing the Sun was made over a period of 18 months. This work was really a marrying of newer directions with some ideas I have worked with for decades: on one hand these expansive dreamy gesturally dyed spaces and on the other hand the use of rigid systematized geometries and patterns. Their combination was a conscious effort to use the paintings as a way to set up interactions of visual forms as well as communication across time between different works and directions in my own history of artmaking.

“This commitment to bringing things together mirrors my daily life juggling 10 things at once. I wanted to explore what that compression of activity, time and flow look like within the language of painting.”

How does this collection of work demonstrate a departure from some of your earlier art? 
I have gone through periods of making highly labor intensive, tight, repetitive work inspired by quilts and at other times very loose, improvisational work. In this group, there is a considered effort to use these contrasts to set up stories, even figurative stories. This commitment to bringing things together mirrors my daily life juggling 10 things at once. I wanted to explore what that compression of activity, time and flow look like within the language of painting.

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How did your work come to find itself at this gallery?
I have worked with Gallery Director Lain York and Zeitgeist Gallery for the last 6 years and I love my association with that roster of artists. When we moved to Nashville the community was amazingly welcoming. We quickly met a network of artists and felt really at home and part of this vibrant conversation. Mark Scala came for a studio visit and invited me to be a part of a show titled Abstractometry at the Frist Museum and I think having my work alongside some Zeitgeist artists helped to have my work considered by Lain into a group show at the gallery.

Has the southeastern US, and specifically the city of Nashville, had any particular impact on your art?  Why or why not?
I am always influenced by where I am and the rhythms of my daily life. I find a lot of conflicts here. There is the peaceful quiet of Nashville combined with the chaos of the highways, the chaos of raising kids and working. There are so many small pockets to explore which I find really intriguing. I think of a single painting holding all these different speeds, rhythms and potential discoveries at the same time.

What insights or realizations, if any, do you hope your viewers will understand when they observe your art?
That things can change right under your nose if you look hard enough. My paintings are put together in surprising ways. They look like something until you see it’s just a setup for surprise. Keep looking.

“I am constantly taking pictures during whatever errand or chore I’m handling, and those pictures and their details find their way into the planning of all my pieces. That autobiography and portrait of place might surprise people.”

On the flip side, what are some aspects of your work that may not be evident to your audience based solely on its surface/appearance?
Just how much of my daily life gets baked into every piece. I am constantly taking pictures during whatever errand or chore I’m handling, and those pictures and their details find their way into the planning of all my pieces. That autobiography and portrait of place might surprise people.

Building upon the previous question, what method would you prefer one take when making a critique of your art: a formal, contextual, or expressive approach?  Why?
The paintings are made as a mix of approaches and so a good discussion usually also should. We can start with, “That looks cool,” and dig in from there. Each approach alone leaves me a little cold.

Who and/or what are some of your biggest artistic influences?  How?  Why?
This is a big question, okay. But some important influences (and reasons) are my grandmother (grounded and unstoppable), Sigmar Polke (explorer), James Rosenquist (sweet collages), Yayoi Kusama (lyricism and earnest weirdness), Lynda Benglis (power and unleashed materiality), Agnes Martin (centeredness), Richard Tuttle (touch), Mark Rothko (depth of color), Ken Price (precision and humor), Vija Celmins (nature), Loretta Petway and the artists of the Gees Bend Quilt Collective (pattern and power), Katarina Grosz (epic spray and color).

How does your work demonstrate departure from the above influences?
Hmm… I can’t pretend that my work is as good as those incredible artists, but I’m doing my own weird wild best.

What upcoming projects and/or exhibitions do you have planned within the next 12 months?
I’m in a show now at Cheekwood showing new drawings and paintings from the first few months of the pandemic. With everything going online I have had a couple of virtual shows this summer, with Zeitgeist Gallery here in town and with Mark Moore in Los Angeles. I expect there will be more virtual shows popping up until 2021.

What are your goals for your art within the next 12 months?
It’s a pandemic! Everything in the art world has been pushed back a year or turned into an Instagram Live event. For the last six months art has happened in the small spaces between helping my kids with their virtual learning, keeping the family fed and trying to keep safe. I’m lucky to have my studio in the backyard so that I can escape there from time to time.

“The paintings are made as a mix of approaches and so a good discussion usually also should. We can start with, ‘That looks cool,’ and dig in from there. Each approach alone leaves me a little cold.”

Goals for your life in general?
Oh god. Happy healthy kids, and actively supporting a more just and healthy world. Getting back to the things I loved before Covid like traveling and working in the studio for hours on end worrying only about color and paint.

Since we’ve brought up life in general, what’s your favorite food and drink?
Very tough, exceptional Dimsum and a tie between margaritas and manhattans.

Band(s) and/or record(s)?
First Aid Kit. Frank Black’s Teenager of the Year.

Movie(s)?
Lost in Translation.

Hang spot(s)?
My backyard!

Weekend activity(ies)?
Bike riding, hiking, bonfires.

Money’s not a factor, you will burn no social bridges, and you’re guaranteed a comfortable lifestyle no matter what—where would you live, and what would you do?
Brooklyn and I would mostly urban explore and spend time in my sweet studio. I would find a way for supporting choice of many kinds and the environment. And, since I would have so much cash, I would travel half of the time, and then go back to Brooklyn to drink more coffee. 

To learn more about Alex Blau and her work, please visit her online at www.alexblau.com and at her Instagram page @AlexBlau1999.

The following are a selection of Blau’s paintings featured at Zeitgeist Gallery.

20 Questions with J. Todd Greene

What is your earliest memory of your burgeoning interest in art?
I recall at a very young age, maybe 6 years old, making a drawing which my Dad refused to concede that I had made. My guess is that he was kidding me a bit, but it was clear that he was impressed. So, I've felt talented or artistically observant for most of my life.  I didn't really feel like I 'got' art until college, however. That door in my mind was opened by the other student painters at SCAD.

How have you witnessed this early interest reveal itself in your current work?
Being hyper observant felt like a curse as a young person. "Why do I notice everything?" The artistic part of the brain naturally reflects and renders its environment, mostly without judgement, but it is difficult to accept and process this as a kid. However, I relish it now, as a man of a certain age. Though life can still be scary, the outlet of art making is good and necessary medicine for me.

What motivated and/or inspired your latest exhibition Fragile as Fruit?
My latest body of work, called A Family Affair, is the result of 8 months of painting with my parents, John and Linda Greene. 

My mom's grandfather, Herbert Morgan, was a Southern Baptist preacher in the small Georgia town where my Mom grew up. He never learned to read very well, so he would sketch out his sermons, in a crude comic book fashion, onto 4" x 6" index cards, which he would keep hidden in his bible for reference while he preached. It was a secret kept from everyone but his wife, Ida. Herbert died in 1982, but the cards survived and were passed down to my Mom. We made a body of paintings and sculptures based on these images from his sermon cards.

How does this collection of work demonstrate a departure from some of your earlier art?
I have been making art based on these sermon cards, off and on, for years. What was new and invigorating about this incarnation was that my parents were willing to co-create the work with me. 

I was growing bored with myself and all my tricks for producing images and wanted a fresh approach. At first, my Mom was pretty reluctant at the prospect, but eventually acclimated herself to the process like a pro. My Dad draws well, so he wasn't as reticent, but the subject matter and execution of the paintings was challenging for us all at first. It took some time to gel, but we were eventually working in silence together, for hours at a time.

“What was new and invigorating about this incarnation was that my parents were willing to co-create the work with me. I was growing bored with myself and all my tricks for producing images and wanted a fresh approach... It took some time to gel, but we were eventually working in silence together, for hours at a time.”

How did your work come to find itself hanging in a variety of galleries and museums throughout town?
I have been very fortunate as an artist. People have come to my shows consistently over the last two decades, and I have felt very supported and encouraged to keep going.

Anne Brown at the Arts Company was very instrumental in connecting me with countless art enthusiasts, including the Tn. State Museum. Joe Nolan, Ron Yorke, Ann Daigh, Robin Vernon are a few more local names which come to mind regarding keeping me connected to the living.

Has the southeastern US, and specifically the city of Nashville, had any particular impact on your art?  Why or why not?
I am a big fan of folk art and artists like Howard Finster, Bill Traylor, Mary Tillman, Thorton Dial to name a few. I don't think art gets better than the best folk art, and most of it is very thoroughly Southern. The sincerity and absence of pretense in genuine folk art is attractive to me. I have tried to emulate my favorites to varying degrees of success. 

I think it's that combination of unbridled 'play', coupled with a deep sense of calling that is so compelling to me. I am a sucker for artists with visions or who hear the voice of God telling them to go out and make something. 

I'm not sure how Nashville itself influences me artistically. I am leary of the intense speed of growth and changes the city has experienced in the last decade. There is a subterranean anxiety about it within me that certainly shapes my perspective and informs the imagery.

What insights or realizations, if any, do you hope your viewers will understand when they observe your art?
I suppose that as creators, we hope and aim to ignite the feelings in a viewer that we ourselves had when a painting, film, or song spoke to us. Art has the power to open doors in the mind leading us into a deeper or higher consciousness, I believe.  Whether you are making it or are open to be moved by it, art can shift your perspective suddenly like drugs can, but with fewer side effects. An artist is always hoping that 'thing' will happen. The muse showing up, the juice flowing, the zone appearing, the 'thing' is what we're after, right?

On the flip side, what are some aspects of your work that may not be evident to your audience based solely on its surface/appearance?
I strive for simplicity and an economy of marks, which I don't pull off very often. I think I overwork pieces consistently. 

Also, I've gotten to a point where I have no use for my own work after it is completed. Hoarding my own output is not for me. So, I tend to work on pieces longer than necessary, simply to keep from having to stack it somewhere. I have tried giving it away, but the "pay what you want" model has proven to work better for me. 

Building upon the previous question, what method would you prefer one take when making a critique of your art: a formal, contextual, or expressive approach?  Why?
We all want to feel intelligent. I think it's universal that we want to feel like our efforts are worthwhile and come from a deep and informed place. That said, I'd love for people to find my work at least interesting. I don't know if it is Kafka's ice-axe to break the seas frozen in our soul, but I hope sometimes it is. Time will tell, I suppose.

I'd like the work to be seen as referential and not derivative. Inspired, not forced. A natural byproduct. The older I get, however, the less concerned I am about being critiqued. There was a time when I cared about being taken seriously in the art world, whatever that is, but now I do it because I enjoy it. I do want people to like it, of course.

“I’d like the work to be seen as referential and not derivative. Inspired, not forced. A natural byproduct. The older I get, however, the less concerned I am about being critiqued. There was a time when I cared about being taken seriously in the art world, whatever that is, but now I do it because I enjoy it.”

Who and/or what are some of your biggest artistic influences?  How?  Why?
I'll leave out the more obvious giants of the art world and name a few peripheral influencers that have informed and loved me through their work.

Jack Davis and Mort Drucker were the first illustrators (both famous for their work in Mad Magazine) to knock me out with their abilities to render and lampoon. The effortlessness of their drawing skills, to this day, mystify me. 

David Hockney's work and his writing about art is so very pleasurable to me. His penchant for speaking plainly about art, both demystifies and remystifies it.

I think Thornton Dial will go down in history as one of the most important artists of all. Although a self-taught painter and sculptor, the complexity of his compositions are every bit as inspired, informed and intelligent as any Jasper Johns or Robert Rauschenberg.  

Louise Nevelson's sculptures are unmatched in my mind.

The humanity and beauty revealed in Diane Arbus's and Sally Mann's photography always inspire me. 

And, more recently, the hyper-realistic fantastical sculptures by Patricia Piccinini seem like something only God could make. Ice-axe level artistry.

How does your work demonstrate departure from the above influences?
I don't know if I've managed to depart, at least not very far, from the people who have influenced me. I constantly have the feeling that what I am doing has already been done and better by much more gifted artists. So, in that sense I feel like a fraud or poser a great deal of the time, but I guess I'd rather be a living hack than a dead master.

I don't think that what I do is terribly original, but I believe it was William S. Burroughs who said that originality was overrated anyway.

I do find art making fun, however, and I know that my abilities have improved over the years.

What upcoming projects and/or exhibitions do you have planned within the next 12 months?
I am in negotiations for a show in 2020 at Julia Martin Gallery, where I currently display single panel cartoons.

My 9 year old son strong armed me into applying for a school art show in May. 

I have plans to collaborate with longtime friend and artist, Andrew Harding.

And, I've started an Instagram only series called, "Sunspot", with that aforementioned, strong arming, 9 year old called.

What are your goals for your art within the next 12 months?
Saying yes to everything is dangerous, but I plan to do that artistically in 2020. I believe more collaborating with friends and family is in store.

There is a real freedom in the 'pay what you want' model. It has left me feeling like I can do what I want, when I want to do it. A different kind of wealth.

Goals for your life in general?
Goals for life: Less complaining. More artistic risk taking. Make a documentary. More meditation. Less worry. Be more present. Be more generous. Compliment my wife more. 

Since we’ve brought up life in general, what’s your favorite food and drink?
One of my favorite meals on earth is the Slice Special at Manny's House of Pizza in the Arcade downtown. It is a last meal before execution kind of thing for me.

I recently had one of the best meals of my life at a restaurant called, Korean Bar b que, in a strip mall on Nolensville Rd, almost all the way to Nolensville. I was with somebody who knew what they were doing with the DIY cooking. Unbelievably good.

The Old Fashioned at Bastion is a pretty dang good drink. Some great craft beers at Tailgate.

“I think Thornton Dial will go down in history as one of the most important artists of all. Although a self-taught painter and sculptor, the complexity of his compositions are every bit as inspired, informed and intelligent as any Jasper Johns or Robert Rauschenberg.”

Band(s) and/or record(s)?
Musically, I am currently smitten with a couple of artists. Cate LeBon and Weyes Blood. They both seem to have created their own worlds. Familiar, but alien. I can't get enough.

Movie(s)?
Some of my favorite movies are: 2001 A Space Odyssey, Bladerunner, Solaris, and Raising Arizona.

A couple faves (but don't necessarily recommend) of the last few years are: Hereditary and Mandy.

Hang spot(s)?
I really enjoy hanging at Headquarters Coffee on Charlotte Ave. They have a cool, secret back patio. I'm embarrassed to say this, but I've only recently discovered Betty's just around the corner from Headquarters. Pretty amazing place.

Portland Brew on 12th. And, still enjoy our public libraries.

Weekend activity(ies)?
Weekend activities do tend to revolve around your kids for better or worse. So, lots of soccer lately. My son is a Cub Scout and I'm the Den Leader, so there are quite a few activities involving khaki shirts on Sunday afternoons. Coffee. Naps. Occasional art shows. 

Money’s not a factor, you will burn no social bridges, and you’re guaranteed a comfortable lifestyle no matter what—where would you live, and what would you do?
I'd love a big ol' weird house or hotel on Tybee Island, near Savannah Georgia. It is one of my favorite places of all. I love the heat. The ocean. The weirdos. It has dodged the corporate bullet somehow, and still has that local, leathery, beach bum, feel. 

Maybe a ‘lil place in Parma Italy too.

Thank you for humoring me!

To learn more about J. Todd Greene and his work, please visit him online at www.jtgreene.com and at his Facebook page @JToddGreene.

20 Questions with David Onri Anderson

I had the pleasure of having artist David Onri Anderson as a student when I taught History of Photography at Watkins College of Art and Design.  Anderson was a great student who sat in the front row, and would casually sketch during class which, to be fair, was a three-hour lecture course that started at 8:30 a.m. Mondays.  Rough.  (It was also my first year teaching—double rough.)  Fast forward a few years to find Anderson as one of the most celebrated young artists in Nashville.  His paintings present unexpected associations between one’s personal experience and nature, investigations into the interconnectedness that binds all matter together.  In his exhibition Fragile as Fruit, Anderson pushes familiar whole food imagery into abstraction in a nod of gratitude to those which nourish and thus enable creative (and really all) life activity.  In the following interview, Anderson discusses his process, inspirations, and motivations behind this body of work.

What is your earliest memory of your burgeoning interest in art?
When I was about 4 years old, I remember seeing a puddle and imagining a little world in that puddle with these little green floating creatures that have purple crafts that help them float around. I made little drawings of this idea with markers.

How have you witnessed this early interest reveal itself in your current work?
I have realized that my strongest approach is to come right from the initial inspiration, keep it simple and direct, and make it something I want to live and grow with.

What motivated and/or inspired your big idea for the group exhibition Fragile as Fruit?
Lately, I have been feeling the urge more and more to connect with nature and let it guide my life. I did a show in 2018 with Elephant Gallery called Earthbound and that show was the start of a soul searching journey through painting and making to reconnect with my environment and its diversity of life in all its unexpected forms and frequencies. With this continued exploration, I’ve come to work with fruit as a rich metaphor for a character or place caught in a drama between natural and otherwise unnatural forces.

“I’ve come to work with fruit as a rich metaphor for a character or place caught in a drama between natural and otherwise unnatural forces.”

How does this collection of work demonstrate a departure from some of your earlier art?
I work slowly and gradually, so the departure is always subtle with surprises peppered throughout (I have to get surprised every now and then in order to continue). This collection has moments where the atmosphere or setting or time becomes more apparent and the banana peel or apple core will start to feel more introverted or like it has its own personality and inner life, because in reality they do, they came from a tree and there’s a whole story to its history, how it got to where it is now, etc. I am seeking out the personhood of these seeming objects, I am showing subject-ness of these discarded characters. I feel these new paintings might be a bit more filthy and outgoing and beautiful in a complex way. There are also a dozen small paintings of eggs. I think this body of work is very funny and honest and hits me in the stomach in a way that feels fresh to me.

How did your work come to find itself in at the David Lusk gallery?
I think it was after my solo show at Elephant Gallery they became interested in my work. Maybe David Lusk had a dream one night where a grim reaper appeared to him and demanded that he look at my paintings and think about it for a while and then sign me. Who knows, I hope it was a good mix of both.

Has the southeastern US, and specifically the city of Nashville, had any particular impact on your art? Why or why not?
Definitely. I was born in Nashville, so it’s sometimes hard for me to think of any other place, it’s where I’ve always lived and made things. On the other hand, my mother is from France and her Dad is from Algeria, so there is a lot of family culture that is inherited and leaves many impressions.

What insights or realizations, if any, do you hope your viewers will understand when they observe your art?
I hope they realize how much life and magic is in each little thing and in each present moment and how they can participate at any given time, they have the power.

On the flip side, what are some aspects of your work that may not be evident to your audience based solely on its surface/appearance?
The sacrifices and soul searchings it took to make the paintings and to come to these realizations through continuation of the practice. It’s all personal discoveries lost and found within the practice and recorded through each painting made.

Building upon the previous question, what method would you prefer one take when making a critique of your art: a formal, contextual, or expressive approach? Why?
I don’t have any preference for their critique, but I would say my art isn’t trying to be clever or academic. It is more of the psychic and subconscious realm, dream states perhaps. At the same time I think of them as vessels of experienced reality mixed with constructed questions, stories, fantasies and theories.

“...my art isn’t trying to be clever or academic. It is more of the psychic and subconscious realm, dream states perhaps. At the same time I think of (my artwork) as vessels of experienced reality mixed with constructed questions, stories, fantasies and theories.”

Who and/or what are some of your biggest artistic influences? How? Why?
My first influence is how nature works, stars, planets, weather, physics, fungus, rocks, trees, animals, all the natural phenomena that I continue to become aware of. My family and friends are very important to my creative health, ex-girlfriends have really taught me a lot and inspired newness. I’m really into the old cave paintings and images carved on rocks by indigenous peoples of North and South America. Tantric paintings from India, Agnes Martin, Bill Traylor, Forrest Bess, Hilma Af Klint, Gees Bend Quilts. All of these lives inspire me and encourage me to make what I make. 

How does your work demonstrate departure from the above influences?
I have to turn back to myself, to my life, my dreams and visions and think of how I can participate in my own way. I started realizing I’ve been eating an apple and a banana almost every single day for years and years. This is very important because those have been my energies sustaining my life. So I decided to make paintings that explore the energetic ways of these fruit that are a big part of my life and life in a broader sense. They connect me back to nature, to a specific environment that has personhood.

What upcoming projects and/or exhibitions do you have planned within the next 12 months?
Always doing curatorial stuff with my project space Electric Shed. I have some plans cooking up for a group show in NYC in 2020. My gallery in Los Angeles, Patrick Painter just moved to central downtown and we plan to do something again, no dates for that yet.

What are your goals for your art within the next 12 months?
Keep it real. Don’t get distracted by capitalist mechanics and trends.

Goals for your life in general?
To paint and live a healthy, sustainable life full of love and music.

Since we’ve brought up life in general, what’s your favorite food and drink?
I love this dish my mother makes called shakshouka and iced mint tea from the garden to drink with it, comfort food from our North African roots.

Band(s) and/or record(s)?
Sade.

Movie(s)?
I’ve been watching a lot of Les Blank documentaries lately, those are beautiful. Chulas Fronteras was a film by Les Blank that the Belcourt had shown recently, and that got me on fire for his documentaries. 

“I feel these new paintings might be a bit more filthy and outgoing and beautiful in a complex way... this body of work is very funny and honest and hits me in the stomach in a way that feels fresh to me.”

Hang spot(s)?
Radnor Lake, my studio, art crawls, the old streets of Nashville

Weekend activity(ies)?
Usually a bit of painting, hiking, cooking, reading, playing music. Maybe some debauchery.

Money’s not a factor, you will burn no social bridges, and you’re guaranteed a comfortable lifestyle no matter what—where would you live, and what would you do?
In the tomb of King Tut!

Anything else that you’d like to add? 
Keep Nashville spicy y’all. Thanks a million for doing this!!! 

To learn more about David Onri Anderson and his work, please visit him online at www.davidonrianderson.com and at his Instagram page @davidonri.

Image selections from Anderson’s exhibition Fragile As Fruit at David Lusk gallery in Nashville, TN, on view October 1 - 26, 2019. Instagram @DavidLuskGallery.

20 Questions with Patrick DeGuira

Artist, writer, and curator Patrick DeGuira is an advocate for nature.  His latest exhibition titled Land Derived Sentiments is a group show that explores the political, emotional, and spiritual interconnectedness that occurs within nature’s subjectivity.  Motivated by and reacting to DeGuira’s written reflections about the environment, the artists featured in LDS have created a broad range of work that showcase multifaceted responses to his observations.  The result?  Proof that human’s relationship with the earth is further challenged by inherent individualism.  The following interview unpacks the aims of this exhibition while also providing insight to DeGuira’s process.

What is your earliest memory of your burgeoning interest in art?
Hi, thanks for your interest in the exhibition!

My earliest memory starts with encouragement and artistic support from my parents. Growing up the last of ten children in semi-pastoral Tennessee, I shared one parent among many half siblings. Because of these differences, I often felt alone and of many, like a person whose identity was divided into several facets: brother, child, and only child. Art helped me differentiate aloneness from isolation… it showed me ways there can be meditative freedom in making. I think this is a big reason why I began to pursue creative acts. I also had the great advantage of growing up with access to a 130 acre farm and freely exploring this place (the feeling of this place). This memory has become embedded in my work as an adult.

How have you witnessed this early interest reveal itself in your current work?
First and foremost, I like sharing the work of others… and placing my work in conversation with others. From a very early age, the natural world left an enduring mark on my psyche. Returning to the same subject as a source of creation, even as I and it continue to evolve, is enriching and complicated. I still try and convey a sense of early childhood wonderment, emotions and visual curiosity in my work as an adult.

“From a very early age, the natural world left an enduring mark on my psyche... I still try and convey a sense of early childhood wonderment, emotions and visual curiosity in my work as an adult.”

How has your art making informed your curatorial practice? 
My work is informed by systems thinking. I have made decisive steps to establish a practice more open and accessible to the possibilities of curatorial structures and collaboration. By making space for a synthesization of research, writing, and studio production, in addition to embracing my community and learning from their amazing work as artists, writers, activists, teachers, I began to realize the once seemingly disparate isolated roles--artist, educator, curator, designer--could function as interdependent parts of a whole. I guess in a “Bueysian” way, I don’t differentiate “organization” from art making.

What motivated and/or inspired your big idea for the group exhibition Land Derived Sentiments?
My writing is inspired by the land, or the disruption of what we have named the natural world… and the promise of our “nature” is dependent on ecological partnerships we’ve helped forge and misalign. My goal is to dream of a political and emotional space for nature… to turn our attention towards nature as a primary subject. To borrow words from writer Melinda Baker, I am interested in better understanding “the interconnectivity and tension within the human-nature relationship.” My hope is to highlight the beauty and necessity of an ecocentric view… now, more than ever.

How did your curating process unfold for this exhibition in terms of selecting the artists shown in LDS?
It was important that many visual forms be represented in this exhibition. Each of us experience poetic, political or observational spaces differently. For some it is more realistically or drawn from a documentarian space, others experience the world more abstractly, narratively or emotionally. Most importantly, each artist in this exhibition is empathetic and poetic in their own right. Each were excited to interpret my writing, trusted me to interpret their work and create an interconnected dialogue amongst the final works on display.

How does this collection of work demonstrate a departure from previous exhibitions you’ve curated?
Not so much a departure, but in a sense… a continuation. Aftermath from 2010 explored ideas pertaining to dystopia or the failure of societal systems; the housing crash, natural disasters brought forth by climate change, and culture’s obsession with “end times.” One of the highlights of the exhibit was a hidden quote by John Adams (white vinyl displayed on the gallery wall), which read, “I must study politics and war, that our sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy. Our sons ought to study mathematics and philosophy, geography, natural history and naval architecture, navigation, commerce and agriculture in order to give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry and porcelain.” The Medium’s Session, from 2013, was built on ideas pertaining to salvation, ritual, spirituality, materiality and regrowth. Here, the artist plays shaman, performer, or conduit, working harmoniously with or perhaps guided by their chosen materials. The biggest difference between Land Derived Sentiments and past shows is an underlying urgency and a very clear writing component or position. Additionally, there is an important aspect of call and response, which I hope connects the works more directly.

What insights or realizations, if any, do you hope your viewers will understand when they observe this exhibition?
To continue to support ecological partnerships--ones that have co-evolved to make a profound type of progress together. To leave feeling connected to the land. To NOT surrender to climate skepticism or dirty energy, better yet, be inspired to combat it.

What are some aspects of this exhibition that may not be evident to your audience based solely on its surface/appearance?
It is designed to encourage others to participate in an environmental conversation after leaving the gallery.

Tell us about your work.  What do you create?
My work is intended to be conceptual and carried out with minimal means. I work in a broad range of materials and forms, including installation and sculpture, photography, research and observation, video, writing, sound-based recordings and performance. My work evolves from ideas such as systems thinking, temporality, and the study of nature and phenomena.

“My work is intended to be conceptual and carried out with minimal means. I work in a broad range of materials and forms... My work evolves from ideas such as systems thinking, temporality, and the study of nature and phenomena.”

Personally, I have a soft spot for artists’ books.  What brought you to venture into this medium?
Me too! I write daily, and at some point I realized I could hunker down and produce a small book of writing. Books are portable, accessible, yet complex, and can reach a wide audience.

How did your work come to find itself in LDS?
I don’t typically include my work in curated projects… frankly I find it tacky. That said, this project was so multifaceted and I had my thoughts are so directly within it, that it made sense to include my own visual responses. Oftentimes my work on display was being made in support of the writing and vice versa.

What method would you prefer one take when making a critique of your art: a formal, contextual, or expressive approach?  Why?
Wow, love this… I believe your question answers the question. Art, in my mind, should contain or be sympathetic to each of these elements. It should be formal, in that it suggests compositional space, the intersections of form and line, posited through a considered medium. It should, in this arena, provide a context… a meaning… a statement or idea, making space for expression, be it personal, political, emotional.  

Who and/or what are some of your biggest artistic influences?  How?  Why?
Too many. Let’s see... Alice Oswald, Joseph Beuys, Alicia Kwande, Anish Kapoor, Wolfgang Laib, Mono Ha, Robert Irwin, Jack Burnham, Susan Howe, Arte Provera, Institute Without Boundaries, Buckminster Fuller, David Haskell, Rural Studio Program, Olafur Eliasson, 350.org, Greta Thunberg, Prem Krishnamurthy, Sunrise Movement... so many! I am interested in how each of these individuals, places, or ideas are processed based.

What upcoming projects and/or exhibitions do you have planned within the next 12 months?
I am releasing a second book this summer, titled Moving Seasons at a Distance. I am in a couple of upcoming group shows, Zeitgeist and one at Vanderbilt University. Also, I will be presenting lectures at Watkins College and Governor’s School for the Arts, each in June.

What are your goals for your art within the next 12 months?
I’m in application mode; residencies, grants, etc. I have started a collaboration with artist Greg Pond that I would like to focus on.

“Art, in my mind, should contain or be sympathetic to each of these elements. It should be formal, in that it suggests compositional space, the intersections of form and line, posited through a considered medium. It should, in this arena, provide a context… a meaning… a statement or idea, making space for expression, be it personal, political, emotional.”

Non-art question time: What’s your favorite food and drink?
My wife and I are plant based eaters, with a penchant for fish. Call us pescatarian light. Like most Americans, I am taco crazy. I am also Michelada crazy… and rarely pass up Bourbon whiskey. My doctor keeps a watchful eye on me. Thanks Dr. Wei.

Band(s) and/or record(s)?
Most recently I have listened to Caroline Shaw, the new Lambchop record, The Association, Alice Coltrane, and various Indian Ragas.

Movie(s)?
Man… it rarely sucks being a dad, but I watch a lot of kid movies. I liked the Peter Rabbit film, and Christopher Robin was awesome. I recently watched and thought Blade Runner 2049, Phantom Thread, 24 Frames and Eighth Grade were all memorable.

Weekend activity?
Spending time with my family and making space for outdoor activities; walking the dogs, heading to the dog park, or going on a hike. 

Money’s not a factor, you will burn no social bridges, and you’re guaranteed a comfortable lifestyle no matter what—where would you live, and what would you do?
Wow… yes, okay! I would approach it like Shel Silverstein. Silverstein (whom I had the pleasure of once meeting) had four homes in the final decades of his life, including a houseboat in California, apartments in New York and Tokyo, and a modest country home in England. I would love to have small, sustainable spaces in Oaxaca City, Japan, maybe a houseboat in Nova Scotia (why not), and of course, a functional little cabin in Tennessee. All artist, family, dog and environmentally friendly of course! I would hope to work on projects and with others in each of these locations. You know, maybe I would open a place to cook food for people, have a community garden, small project space for art, ideas, lectures and events?

To learn more about Patrick DeGuira and his work, please visit him online at www.patrickdeguira.com and at his Instagram page @p.deguira.

Photos of DeGuira’s exhibition Land Derived Sentiments at Zeitgeist gallery in Nashville, TN, on view March 2 - April 26, 2019. Instagram @ZeitgeistGallery.

20 Questions with John Paul Kesling

For the past few months, John Paul Kesling’s painting exhibition Panic and Purpose has been on view at East Nashville’s Red Arrow Gallery. A bombastic collection of medium-to-large scale works on canvas, Kesling’s bold vision is desolate and humorous, mysterious and familiar, as though witness to a contradiction that makes perfect sense.

Red 225 asked the artist 20 questions about art and life in general. What transpired can be found below.

What is your earliest memory of your burgeoning interest in art?
Good question. I grew up in a small town in Kentucky so art museums and galleries might as well had been on a moon circling Jupiter. There’s a few things that stand out. I grew up (or didn’t grow up) in a Disney household. So there were always cartoons and crayons. I was always jealous of the kids in school with the 64 pack of crayons but I kinda felt like I had to earn those extra colors so I needed to practice. Another weird memory of being exposed to art came when my brothers and I were helping my dad tear down some old wallpaper in our house. Somebody had drawn these little drawings of trolls on the walls before putting the paper up years before we were there. To a sweaty little dirt-ball kid, it was like discovering cave paintings. I also remember drawing my favorite wrestlers but tearing them all up one day when my brother said they didn’t look good. I was high-strung.

How have you witnessed this early interest reveal itself in your current work?
I did recently finish a painting of “The Ultimate Warrior” which I’m pretty excited about (even if it doesn’t look like him). I’ve chilled out.  And in non-wrestling news, I think there’s a sense of play in my work that sneaks in. I like hiding little references throughout. It could be a Bart Simpson or just some magical glazing technique for the painting nerds. If a painting is half as fun to look at up close as it was to make, I’m happy.

“I think there’s a sense of play in my work that sneaks in. I like hiding little references throughout. It could be a Bart Simpson or just some magical glazing technique for the painting nerds. If a painting is half as fun to look at up close as it was to make, I’m happy.”

Speaking of your current work, tell us about your recent exhibition “Panic and Purpose” at Red Arrow Gallery.  What motivated and/or inspired this show?
Katie (from Red Arrow) did a studio visit and told me she had an unexpected opening in her schedule. She wanted work that hadn’t been shown and I had a few months. I like deadlines so I got to work. This show is a collection new work finished in 2018/2019. Since graduate school, I’ve mostly quit making conceptual work and just work intuitively. If there’s an overarching theme, it would be something about me trying to synthesize the contemporary human experience. Broad stuff and non-linear.  I make a lot of work and the grouping in this show could’ve went a number of directions. As we got closer to the opening, I wrote about the pieces we decided on and “Panic And Purpose” was pulled from that writing. It seemed right.

How does this collection of work demonstrate a departure from some of your earlier art?
The more I paint, the more I like painting. I think that shows in the work. The most obvious departure is the scale of the work. The large pieces are the largest I’ve ever worked. Moving to Nashville from Brooklyn has allowed for that to happen logistically. Making these large pieces ,primarily on the floor, was fun and allowed me to treat the materials in a less-precious way. I hope that translates to the viewer. It breaks my heart when I see a painting and it looks like the artist doesn’t even like paint. Paint is so primitive yet so magical, like most of the good stuff.

How did your work come to find itself in at this gallery?
See above. But The Red Arrow Gallery was one of my first stops when I moved to Nashville. I stopped in within the first couple of weeks of moving here and met Katie.  I showed around at a few other galleries and finally reconnected with Red Arrow after 2 1/2 years and we set up a studio visit. She offered me a show before she left and that was it.

Has the southeastern US, and specifically the city of Nashville, had any particular impact on your art?  Why or why not?
Nature. Space. Time. Those are the biggest gifts an artist can ask for. Subject matter and inspiration can be found anywhere if you’re a curious person. Those other three things are the elusive ones. Thanks, Nashville!

“Nature. Space. Time. Those are the biggest gifts an artist can ask for. Subject matter and inspiration can be found anywhere if you’re a curious person.”

What insights or realizations, if any, do you hope your viewers will understand when they observe your art?
I just hope people like the work. It’s pretty simple. I worked hard on this stuff to hopefully make it not suck.  My favorite thing to do at the opening was to ask people which was their least favorite painting. It really makes people feel comfortable.

On the flip side, what are some aspects of your work that may not be evident to your audience based solely on its surface/appearance?
I don’t think that a lot of people realize how many bad paintings are underneath the painting they see on the surface. Some of the thicker, more labored pieces have at least three or four horrible paintings hidden away that I’ve painted over. Let’s call it “process”.

Building upon the previous question, what method would you prefer one take when making a critique of your art: a formal, contextual, or expressive approach?  Why?
I think it would be hard for me to be offended by a bad critique of these pieces. I put great effort into masking the seriousness of much of the work and don’t expect the viewer to take away everything I put in. Any approach to critique would be interesting for me to read.  The work IS emotional. The work IS expressive. If a critic feels anything, great. And formally, I try to push myself to make interesting paintings with challenging choices. I like there to be a little tension in the composition so that the painting is teetering on then edge of failure. They have flaws, walk pigeon-toed, but they work hard, and man oh man do they keep that old front porch swept clean!

Who and/or what are some of your biggest artistic influences?  How?  Why?
Francesco Clemente for his versatility, romance and sensitivity/sexuality. Picasso for his confidence. Tal R for his silliness and line. Katherine Bradford for her color and boldness. David Hockney for most things. Peter Doig for his mystery. Ellen Siebers for her quiet. Terry Ekasala for her palette and shapes. Jules De Balincourt for his intensity and composition. And improv comedy podcast for its quick twists and turns. Oh, and Eminem and Fiona Apple for words, rhythm and melody.

How does your work demonstrate departure from the above influences?
My lexicon of visual vocabulary is a house full of stolen paint and brushes but the pickle jar they’re stored in are pickles I ate. It all has my stink on it which makes it mine.

What upcoming projects and/or exhibitions do you have planned within the next 12 months?
At the beginning of May I’ll have eight works in a group show at Tim Faulkner Gallery in Louisville, KY.  At the end of May I’ll be attending a two-week artist residency in Hot Springs, NC. We’re also putting together another solo show at The Red Arrow Gallery in 2020 but haven’t set the dates yet.

What are your goals for your art within the next 12 months? 
If I could do this full-time and not bartend, that’d be pretty okay.

Goals for your life in general?
Art for 11 months a year. Looking for shark teeth at the beach the other month so I can make my dog and girlfriend some sweet jewelry.

Since we’ve brought up life in general, what’s your favorite food and drink?
Food: Pizza till I die (which will probably be within 2 weeks on that diet). Drink: Egyptian Licorice Herbal Tea at the moment.

“My lexicon of visual vocabulary is a house full of stolen paint and brushes but the pickle jar they’re stored in are pickles I ate. It all has my stink on it which makes it mine.”

Band(s) and/or record(s)?
Eminem “Kamikaze”, Tyler Childers “Live On Red Barn Radio 1&2”, Patty Griffin “Living With Ghosts”

Movie(s)?
“Great Expectations” with Ethan Hawke and Gwyneth Paltrow

Hang spot(s)?
Picnic table in my side yard with my dog, Maggie.

Weekend activity?
When I’m not bartending, finding water to sit by.

Money’s not a factor, you will burn no social bridges, and you’re guaranteed a comfortable lifestyle no matter what—where would you live, and what would you do?
Terrifying question. Kokomo sounds pretty good.

To learn more about John Paul Kesling and his artwork, please visit him online at www.johnpaulkesling.com and at this Instagram page @JohnPaulKesling.

Photos of Kesling’s exhibition Panic and Purpose at the Red Arrow gallery in Nashville, TN, on view February 23 - March 30, 2019. Instagram @TheRedArrowGallery.