Skin in the Game
When
I reported to basic training weeks after completing my undergrad in painting I
was unprepared. Hair newly shorn due to the removal of a large red mohawk, I
had a head full of theory that leaned toward an anti-authoritative tendency (I
carried Noam Chomsky in my rucksack). Adapting to a military climate
was…challenging. In nine weeks however I
had been taken apart and rebuilt, all the while understanding somewhere in my
over-worked brain and body the transformation was frighteningly well engineered.
I knew going into it the challenge I faced, and although sure I would perish
more than once during the training, I made it. This experience, renowned by
those who have accomplished it as being exponentially the most arduous of their
existence, was ironically not as trying as my first semester of grad school.
Although like basic training, I am coming to the end of my first semester both
with a feeling of accomplishment, better understanding of the work ahead, and
an anxious anticipation of what will follow toward completing the program.
The
first residency caught me completely off-guard.
I expected my situation to be wrought with tribulation, as I was unsure
of the possibility of switching from tattoo to fine art. During the critiques
these suspicions were confirmed, although I was positively affirmed of the possibility of the leap, however it was
inferred that my job to find the translation would be as much difficult as
definitely necessary if I wanted to find a voice in the art world. I was given amazing suggestions and direction
of how the work I brought to the residency fell short, however the exact
direction I was to take was left to personal discovery, and the importance of
experimentation with medium, finding ambiguity and viewing more art was
insisted upon for the upcoming semester. I took heed and returned home excited
and unsure how to continue, and knowing at least that I wanted to ditch all
work up until that point. Then I hit a creative brick wall and had no idea what
to actually do. In the ten years I
tattooed it was a necessary part of the business that I, as tattooer would constantly
produce, regardless of what the client requested. Tattoos being immediate signifiers, it became
requisite that I had a catalogue of images stored to apply to the client’s
intention. Interestingly this also
transformed the way I made art. As ambiguity
and conceptuality strengthen art making, it does not necessarily translate to
the rules of tattooing, and I realized I had to break down and rebuild. In a critique with Ben Sloat he encouraged
failing, that it would be a part of the process. This again was so different than tattooing,
as failing in someone’s skin is heresy.
This advice however, is what kept me afloat the whole semester, as I did
fail many times, until finally arriving at what will be how I continue building
the language I use to convey the messages I feel obliged.
Without knowing
exactly how to proceed, I started medium experimentation. I started cutting up porcine casing which is the
outer covering of pig intestines used to make sausage. As mentioned in my
residency summary, in a critique I had with Nancy Meyer, she suggested I
investigate the art making possibilities of casing, as we discussed finding
different ways to build what I paint on as well as keeping with the notional
aspect of art on living surface via tattoo, as well as continuing the
spit-shade painting technique. I thought
the suggestion was awesome and definitely worth trying, although the act of
cutting intestines and stretching them enacted contention from friends and
family, the deviance of it only solidified my excitement of its conceptual
possibility. After trying various ways to stretch it, I found the most visually
gratifying was to stretch it over plywood board. After drying the gut stretched plywood I
attempted spit-shading over the casing, only to suddenly recognize that my
chosen technique could have volatile complications regarding the possibility of
salmonella poisoning. As spit-shading
requires using the artists own spit, a brush is repeatedly put in the mouth.
This became problematic after using it on the casing, as intestines are
notorious for harboring such menacing bacteria as salmonella. Obviously failing
in this instance had life-preserving obligation.
During
this time I also I saw the Open This End
collection at the Nasher Museum at Duke University, which was a terrific
exhibit to attend while figuring how to incorporate more ambiguity and
conceptuality in my work. The artist I
have taken most from in that collection is Wangechi Mutu, although the
experience of the collection as a whole was epic in my deliverance from the
naïve obviousness of my former work. I
also saw the dddrrraaawwwiiinnnggg
exhibit at the Contemporary Art Museum of Raleigh. The accessibility of the
drawing movement and the low-brow connection seemed a possibility to how I
could bridge tattooing with fine art, and as expressed in my residency summary
I considered that drawing was possibly where my art fell on the spectrum, at
this point doubting I was a painter at all. I was still flailing quite a bit at
this point, and still trying to paint on intestines. I also attempted a few paintings on paper,
although subject matter felt mostly contrived.
Meeting
with my mentor, Gary Bolding, for the first time put an end to the aimless
wandering it felt as if I were doing. It
became clear how the program then works (along with research papers which also
became essential to the process), and after the first meet I was decidedly put
back in action. He informed me that I
was in fact painting, and suggested Gregory Gillespie, Lucian Frued and William
Beckman. He also suggested I paint more
from life and really observe skin, as well as correct anatomical issues, recommending
I make a series of portraits. On the
presentation of using porcine casing, he was interested, but understandably
explained the aspect of having to know what it is to appreciate the intention,
as well it didn’t allow for spit-shading.
I went back to the drawing board with the aim to further develop the
surface of painted skin, and discover how much I could develop the spit-shade
technique. I then bought a magnifying visor. I wore it with a headlamp attached.
I spent much longer on paintings as I did previously, finding that layering the
liquid acrylic proved fantastic in describing skin, and I am still pursuing the
possibilities. The suggestion of Gregory
Gillespie has been optimal along these lines. His pathological obsession with
skin texture motivated my desire to find how far I could take spit-shading and
liquid acrylic as compared to his oil paintings.
Concurrently with developing skin texture, ideas
such as obsession and compulsion that seemed the way I was painting skin
started to mimic personal life. The
constant anxiety of military life, and the existence it creates, causes these
‘fun’ personality dilemmas, at least personally. I was beginning to realize
that in my technique I was building conceptuality pertaining to
life-as-I-knew-it, without cutting up pig insides but in the painting itself. Although
the intestines haven’t been taken from the chopping block just yet either.
One
of the issues I faced during the initial residency was that there was a lack of
unified focus in my work, as there were directly tattoo style paintings, and
more painterly figurative works, two different styles that did not blend in the
work. There was much I wanted to present
but without crafted nuances of fine art to do so, my visual dialect was
premature. The possibility of combining
tattoo and fine art continues to be apart of how I approach art making, however
I understand more the language to make it work cohesively. In a critique with Sunanda Sanyal he suggested
using photography and perhaps collage.
At the time I highly doubted being able to successfully incorporate
photography, but with the artists I have discovered during this semester I
arrived at an effective use of exactly what Sunanda suggested, in a way that
satisfies different mediums without sacrificing the intended aesthetic.
Along with his
excruciatingly detailed portraits, Gillespie also experimented with collage and
alter-like constructions in his later works.
Likewise, Mutu has used collage in groundbreaking inventive ways
pertaining to modern imagery. I had
discovered that spit-shading could only work on paper, and in that decision it
became obvious that the way in which to build the surface could be through
collage, cutting out the painted imagery and collaging it with other imagery
and material. Along with deciding
resolutely on painting on paper, I still felt it necessary to represent the
mark making quality of tattoo. Perhaps removing from that process the
importance of a signifying image and focusing on the actual mark-making quality
of needle to skin. Of course I’d have to remove the living quality of the skin.
So I used dead skin. I started experimenting
with rawhide. After (once again) many failed attempts, I figured out a process
to tattoo rawhide, and the interesting aspect of using this once living skin
that is now carved with tattoo, as a part of the collage. The marks made on
rawhide are different than on living skin and they hold to a more primitive
aesthetic which I wanted to promote, but unsure of what exact marks to
make. Conceptually worthy to me due to
its anxious (when tattooed) and compulsive design was to attempt tattooing
geometric shapes and tessellations on the rawhide. The anxiety produced both in
this difficult procedure and the visual outcome fit the intended ideas
presented by the imagery it is collaged with.
I began painting obsessively detailed skin and tattooing geometric
patterns on rawhide. Anxiety abounds.
There
is a structural quality to the work now.
Collaging painted images carved out of heavy weighted paper and rawhide
that is carved into, there’s new dimension being achieved. This alludes to Gillespie’s alter-like
constructions as well as Mutu’s ability to create sculpturesque images with her
collages. At least that’s how it’s beginning
to develop. With the use of collage I
can also incorporate the porcine casing as aspects of the construction of the
piece, building the surface.
This leads up to
the most thematically conceptual aspect of my work so far, which considers the
idiom of having ‘Skin in the Game’.
Its
etymology derived from financial dealings, it basically means having much to
lose in a given situation. From the research done this semester on the
Impressionists and their implementation of the responsibility of the artist
being to paint life in Baudelaire’s
Painter
of Modern Life, I consider it personally imperative that my work expresses
how I experience the world I know.
Which
is why I gravitate toward artists such as Mutu, whom meet that challenge
head-on and develop a visual language based on imagery taken from modern
life.
The high anxiety, demand and
consequences of active-duty military life makes it impossible not to react to.
There is definitely an aspect to this life in
which you feel you have ‘skin in the game’, or much to lose in your dealings within
it.
Literally this works as well, being
that I’m attempting to paint
skin
obsessively, and tattooing s
kin to
use in the collage. Through the use of collaging experimental material and cutout
painted images I’m developing a visual dialogue between my experience as a
tattooer, the experience of living a military life and the way in which this
has enabled and constructed my identity.
The cutting, slicing, carving, use of intestines and skin, as well as my
actual saliva to blend my paint all works conceptually in a juxtaposition of
images and materials I don’t intend to pacify the viewer with. The uneasily
tattooed geometric lines and obsessively layered ‘spit-paint’ reiterate this.
Overall the first
semester was intensely transforming. There is definitely more confidence in the
approach to art making, while concurrently is the desire to branch out to more
intense compositions, while still keeping with the process I’m developing. I have a much different reaction to failure
and understand how it can positively alter process. I also have accepted that my work will
reflect a manic energy I have and embrace the anxiety of personal situations both
with imagery and material. I have no
choice but to contend visually with reality and experience, the continuing objective
is to create work that will endure respectively.
The process has become more definite as I progress with pieces.
Initially there is a written brainstorm as I
collect imagery and decide on subject to paint. Then a schematic is developed
as to the design and how the piece is layered, planning out the drying stages
of the rawhide or casing used as well. These pieces are much more labor and
time intensive than those brought to the initial residency and I’m beginning to
work accordingly.
