Art Dept interview:

As the winner of your category in the 2004 International Art Contest, being selected by such a diverse group of artists from all around the world, how do you feel?

As was the case in 2001, I am flattered.

Please describe your current works and any plans for forthcoming exhibits.

I am currently in the middle of a three-part commission piece, “The Triathlete.” I hope to finish the entire project sometime around July 2005. My next solo show will also be in July 2005, at the Southern Vermont Arts Center in Manchester, Vermont.

If any, in what ways have you seen changes in attitudes towards "art"?

Well, I know that my attitude towards my own art is constantly changing: some days I think it is ok, while on other days, it strikes me as suspiciously maudlin. It really depends on my mood.

Regardless of what frame of mind I’m in though, I almost always have zero tolerance for the “too representational” critique of my work. In fact, as I mentioned in my last interview with Art Department, I think we are in a period where representational art is viewed by self-described cutting-edge critics and artists as “copying”—making things look like things, they seem to suggest, is a hopelessly naive approach to art. Meanwhile, according to this mindset, so-called conceptual art is much more sophisticated, and thus, is artistically enlightened. But to be honest, I’ve never really seen a coherent philosophical defense of this “cutting edge” point of view. Granted, in our more generous moments, we might say that Plato made a very thoughtful case for a somewhat similar position in the Republic. But I wonder if contemporary conceptual artists and art critics would be pleased to know that at best, they are promoting a dangerously superficial interpretation of a 2000 year-old idea. And that might not even be the worst of it; at least when Plato used literary images (e.g. the “myth of the cave”), and in this regard “art,” to illustrate his theory of knowledge, we know that he had a pretty solid grasp of the position he was illustrating—to say the least. But I’m not so convinced that many of our contemporary conceptual artists are in touch with the “philosophical concepts” that they attempt to illustrate with their art; or even with what it means to “illustrate” a concept. Does this make them bad illustrators or bad philosophers? I’m not sure, maybe both; in either case, I’m not so sure that this makes them good artists.

But I do think that there are some terrific non-representational, conceptual artists out there; hybrids who are really good philosophers as well as really good artists. But they are rare, although, unfortunately, the desire to make conceptual art is not. And there are certainly some bad representational artists too, but at least the impulse to make this kind of bad art is less pretentious than the impulse to make bad conceptual art. I’d take a velvet Elvis painting any day over, say, a partially burnt piece of tinfoil hung inside a yellow spray-painted Barbie dollhouse, meant to illustrate my artificial and charred soul, trapped inside the constraints of an expectant, disenchanted and materialistic male society, priced to move at $75,000 (I have never actually seen or heard of such a thing; it came to mind as I finished a bag of Cheetos).

Do you think that the fine artist will survive as technology replaces our skills?

Yes. But I think what this question really asks is: Do I think that machines will eventually be able to make art? For instance, will it be possible that one day, a machine will be able to make, say, wood sculpture? And not just awkward mannequins, or simple ducks and that sort of thing, but say, really powerful, beautiful human figures, at least ten times technically better than anything we have ever seen before? Yes, I think that could happen. But does this mean that if someone did suddenly come up with this machine that I would stop making art? No—although I have to admit that my initial impulse would be to smash this clever machine into bits, out of sheer jealousy. But after I cooled off and got a grip on myself, I would, hopefully, remember that I make art because I have to, not because I think I can make technically better figurative art than what has already been made (and I don’t think I can, by the way), nor because I think that I have something new or original to say, nor because I have some partially developed philosophical concept that I am compelled to cryptically illustrate in my art. So it does not really matter to me if technology could or will replace me in terms of the kind of work I make. I would—mawkish one that I am—continue to be moved, if not occasionally paralysed by people, and so, continue to make people. And very still, wooden people at that, maybe in some kind of weird attempt to paralyse them back, at least in my own child’s-size-medium mind.

What advice could you give to those embarking upon a career as an artist?

Hard to tell. Be as honest with yourself as possible I guess. This means you’ll have practice escape and evade when it comes to trends, but don’t be so stubborn that you ignore the genuine trend setters.

Why did you enter the Art Dept contest and what decided your selection for entry?

It’s a very well-organized contest and attracts a bunch of interesting artists.

Is there anything about being an artist that you do not like?

I have to talk about myself a lot. But then again, it’s the age of confessional talk shows, endless “reveals” and “blogs,” so maybe talking about myself makes me contemporary after all.

Would you sell your most favourite artwork, or keep it?

Keep it probably, although one never knows what will happen when the credit card debt starts piling up. Or when my loveable brat of a car throws one of its frequent fits.

How important was education and training to you?

Although I have had plenty of fantastic figure-drawing and painting classes (Colby, Tyler School of Art in Rome, and RISD Summer School), I am a self-taught sculptor. But I have learned a lot from looking at and drawing other sculptors’ work—after I work through the jealously stage, I tend to thrill in other people’s talent.

Is there anything in your art career that you would have changed?

For practical purposes I wish that I had started showing my work earlier. It’s just that it took a long time for me to put together a reasonable body of work.

If you were invited overseas to exhibit, where would you like that to be?

Anywhere in Europe, given the great tradition of woodcarving that presides there.

Do you recommend use of the Internet for an artist's publicity?

Absolutely. The internet is a tremendous resource.

Would you change anything about how the contest is organised?

No, I just wish that there been a few more entrants this year.

How can the Internet be made better for working artists?

I think that more galleries should accept on-line portfolios (rather than slides). I can’t tell you how many slides I’ve lost in the Vortex of No-Response.