A Writer's Canvas

Confessing our deepest emotions through our own words at times seems like the impossible task. Sure, there’s fear of all potential judgments, which is overwhelming for anyone, but saying what we mean is liberating. For Ecuadorian artist, Jaime Nuñez del Arco, the written word serves as a powerful tool to deliver snippets of raw human condition capturing distinct parts of our psyche. These striking messages are supported by a complex vignette of visuals that are sprinkled around to complement the story being told on canvas. 

Painting is something that has always remained close to Nuñez del Arco’s heart and culture. As he points out, “I come from an Ecuadorian coastal family that is strongly connected to culture and letters; artists, musicians, poets and writers. I keep memories from my childhood like drawing metal band logos and creating small fanzine-inspired movie posters that appeared in the local newspaper. Then I continued writing regularly, and studying and working as an advertising copywriter in agencies.”

Nuñez del Arco’s work has a “punk” element aligned with the Neo-expressionist movement of the 1970s.  First emerged in America, the movement paired words with cartoon-like visuals welcoming a fresh way of looking at life through an unapologetic artistic lens. The style is known for expressing intense emotion through vibrant colors in an almost collage-like manner. Renowned artists emerging from this school include Julian Schnabel, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and Georg Baselitz. 

For Nuñez del Arco, as his career started taking off during the 2000s, he showed his first works on paper and other small formats at galleries in Ecuador and Europe. “However, I consider that my first serious show took place when I was invited to On the Edge of Drawing (2010), a collective in the mythical gallery DPM in Guayaquil, curated by Rodolfo Kronfle Chambers,” he says.

His ability to mix graffiti-like visuals, scribble, and words instigates one’s own imagination to kick into high gear. In comparison to today’s world where language sometimes takes a backseat to visual imagery, thanks to social media, television, and smartphones, it’s refreshing to bring back communication via words and language overall. It’s like we have almost forgotten about the power of imagination that comes from organically connecting to messages by reading versus solely relying on visual imagery. By observing the artist’s work, our minds connect the dots to the messages that include confessions, realizations, or simple truths about humanity with pools of color scattered with a feeling to envelop each moment within the whole, like puzzle pieces.

“Words allow me to maintain direct dialogue with an audience. In many of my works, texts extend to build short stories, sometimes ironic, sometimes humorous, always observations of our relationships with sex, technology, religion, or consumption. The pace of letters, strokes, dimensions, readability, and their location in space are variables that define the tone of the work and how we relate to it. There is an architectural element in the connection and stack of letters that attracts me. Although some pieces can be nearly impossible to read, if you invest a little time in these very recognizable forms, you can discover its intention, or desire, build your own narrative. I believe my work progresses towards a world almost entirely written, but of course, also could become something even more chaotic, abstract and cloudy. For now, it is essential to keep writing and keep looking,” he explains.

Nuñez del Arco’s work has been receiving more international exposure. Last year, he had individual shows in Quito (Ecuador), took part in a collective in Klosterfelde Gallery (Berlin) and participated in the Saatchi Gallery’s Screen Project (London). He also expands creatively through his side project Terminal Editions (terminalediciones.com), which allows him to publish his own artist books and those of great talents in Latin American. Additionally, he contributes to collections for institutions such as Printed Matter, Inc. in New York City, the New York Public Library and the MACBA in Barcelona.

The artist is focused on revealing how humans express themselves about anything and how we all do it in an individual manner, which essentially drives his creative mind to create the works we see today. He explains, “I love Wikipedia, the system of questions and answers in Quora, letters to the editor of old magazines, poorly drafted band biographies or characters in subcultures, comments full of humor, romance, nostalgia, violence, and even racism that you are in video YouTube, Instagram posts, or articles from the New York Times. These are all marginal short texts, forgotten and quickly discarded that inspire me to build my works. And even among my clear references are Cy Twombly, Basquiat or contemporaries like David Shrigley or Mark Gonzales, the truth is that I do not follow much the work of other artists. I work day-to-day to detach from that visual obsession that we live with. I prefer to keep sailing between letters, absurd constructions and my own memories.”

That honesty portrayed in his work reveals the layers of humanity that shape the questions, perceptions, opinions, and breakthroughs of our lives. It shows that life is not always lived through the need for preconceived perfection, and even when it is, one can still find the guts to laugh at the absurdities and find humor in the small things as we continue to figure out our individual life cycle in the contemporary world. 

For more about the artist, please visit his website.

Today’s poem reflects Jaime’s effective use of words on paint:

A Supermarket in California 

BY ALLEN GINSBERG

What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.

         In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!

         What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!—and you, Garcia Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons?

         I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys.

         I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?

         I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans following you, and followed in my imagination by the store detective.

         We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy, and never passing the cashier.

         Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour. Which way does your beard point tonight?

         (I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel absurd.)

         Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be lonely.

         Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent cottage?

         Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what America did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe?

Berkeley, 1955

Striking that Delicate Balance

Self-taught Maryland-based photographer Aphra Adkins’ work is a witty sensory experience, and then some. Though her photographs are technically still life, it is fair to refer to them as “pop photography.” With its thematic elements of cultural commentary and the use of eye catching colors, her work goes much further than your average Dutch master fruit bowl.

When we think of pop art, Andy Warhol and Wayne Thiebaud come to mind, with their bright colored riffs on the mundane. It is this artistic expression also found in Adkins’ work that brings vibrancy and a fresh perspective on how we connect with everyday items that are part of our personal lives, and what these may symbolize.

There’s something alluring about Adkins’ work, because it touches on all of our senses to make us ponder its aesthetic—either like a smack in the face (in a good way) or with a delicate lingering touch. Some stills can be interpreted to have a deeper meaning beyond just an aha moment, while others spark something unexplainable, but something that makes you smile regardless of what comes to mind.

Adkins explains, “I usually start with a specific image in mind and try to work toward that, but also allow myself to be inspired in the moment. I follow through on all those little "what if" feelings - what if the milk spilled everywhere, what if the egg was blue instead, etc.”

Still life emerged during the 17th century in the form of paintings by the Dutch and Flemish, which later evolved as photographs in Europe in the 19th century. Today, notable still life school of art photographers include Ori Gersht, Laura Letinsky, and Margriet Smulders.

The beauty of still life photographs is that it allows you to consider every detail presented, as it was purposely staged to have a specific effect. Sure, still life can seem well, quiet, but in Adkins’ case it is the opposite of that. Her work is vibrant, has texture, movement, and it actually touches on an strong sensory response which then activates an emotional one. It is through this connection to the visual complexity that viewers can discern what each photograph represents for them personally.

Adkins is a natural behind the lens, and she explains how her visions come to life. “I am constantly learning as I go. There are definitely moments of frustration when I try something new, or can't quite get the shot, but it's also that much more satisfying when an image turns out just the way I'd imagined it.”

Some of her photographs connect with the viewers through a level of satire on individuality, which go beyond that typical pop art and still life components. A perfect vibrant egg yolk on a squeaky clean sponge representing the fragility of fertility, or a pastel fountain dripping milky liquid to observe the impossibility of the perseverance of physical youth through the passing of time. Because of the way she envisions her images, these more serious topics have a whimsical reaction from the viewer thanks to the way she presents them. Her images are full of vibrant colors, patterns, provocative visuals, perfection and chaos, where themes are pushed to the edge, figuratively and literally, but without ever going overboard.  

Adkins’ work shows us a range of emotive responses that are delicately balanced. Light and dark, dangerous and safe, soft and hard; all aspects needed to achieve a sense of mastery within life and most importantly, within ourselves. “I hope [my work] encourages people to take risks, whether that be trying something new or embracing something they've been afraid to,” she remarks.

Through her photos, she in a way asks us to look at things from an uplifting perspective and simply find joy in the little things, which may seem mundane at first, but that make our personal lives more interesting. It is this notion that essentially keeps us on our toes, because it is in the curiosity that we learn more about ourselves and our surroundings.

All photos courtesy of the artist, and for more on her work please visit her page.

Today’s poem touches on the astute observations and whimsical tones found in Aphra’s work:

This Is Just To Say

BY WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS

I have eaten

the plums

that were in

the icebox

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold

As Above, So Below

Curiosity for our environment is what drives our knowledge.  This natural sequence stems from our perception and Vu Q. Nguyen’s artwork persuades us look beyond that surface. As a nature-inspired artist, he believes in the importance of organic interactions and how these impact our lives in a number of ways.

“My interest in the relationship between nature and humans stems from my family and how I grew up. Farming and agriculture played a big part, from places where we plant the food we eat to creating a sense of community. Like many artists, I look to nature to find inspiration but for me it is important to represent nature's influences on every day life. We leave our 'human' traces where we live but how that affects other parts of the world in not very apparent,” he says.

What you might immediately notice in Nguyen’s paintings aside from the beautiful blends of colors are the shapes and dimensions.  It all comes down to perception, whether we’re focusing on the bigger picture or just a specific part of it. Whichever way you see it, the context extends like an infinity pool of abstraction where the details take over the entire canvas. The gentle colors and gestural marks represent something that can’t be ignored, which are part of the overall abundance of emotion being evoked beyond the top layer. These marks are all unique in shape, brightness, opaqueness, and stand out to complement the environment, yet show us that one detail cannot exist without the others. Even if parts of the painting stand out, they all belong to the whole, which is the way nature and experiences work. There might be good, bad, surprising parts to everything we experience, but if one hadn’t occurred, then we wouldn’t have the same results after all.

Nguyen explains, “I had a deep interest in storytelling when I first began my career. I represented those stories with symbols and figures. Most of my early works contained symbols that were culturally specific and figures of family and friends whom I knew well. I wanted to tell their stories while incorporating an element of place. Over time my work became more abstract which for me was a natural progression because I became more involved with traveling and nature. I felt that I could tell my story better with more of an emotional expression rather than pure representation.”

The abstract shapes represent the complexities of everything we see in life, yet everything portrayed has many layers, like the physical earth does. These layers can portray anything you imagine, even though Nguyen’s work is built on his travel and organic experiences, what you see can also be applicable to the overall environment within life. Everything in our environment is layered because nothing is really black and white, there are more shades of gray than anything else, which again leads us to perception and how we may see the surface and what lies underneath. Think of each layer and pigment in the paintings as what is beneath each person, the earth, feelings, reactions to actions, among other examples.

“My works over the past five or more years have been linked to land in the sense of how it's divided over time. I incorporate this with things that I find interesting in that area. I make small sketches that represent patterns of what I see. I start the base of my paintings as maps some real, some I make up. Then I put layers of patterns that I've collected more of which will obscure all the drawing underneath. I use a wide variety of mediums. Currently I create a lot of my work using dry pigment. I tend to use drawing as painting so oil sticks, pens, markers, charcoal/graphite is my main go-to,” he says.

There is a sense of looking within and without when you’re observing these landscapes.  This causes you to look into what is there from the inside, meaning the layers and what completes the whole or it causes you to look at the bigger picture, as if you’re looking at things from the sky. It all depends on your personal viewpoint, which relates to how you look at things in life: Are you looking at the details up close and analyzing every single thing that is presented right in front of you, or are you pulling back and analyzing things from afar and getting a gist of what the overall message might be? That is the question.

Nugyen exhibited his work at the Foundry Gallery in Washington D.C. this past spring. For more about the artist’s work, please visit his website.

Today’s poem represents the detail of emotive color and movement found in Vu’s paintings:

Field of Moving Colors Layered

BY TINO VILLANUEVA

I’m not easily mesmerized.

But how can you not be drawn in by swirls,

angles and whorls brought together to obey

a field of moving colors layered, muted ...

others bright that make you linger

there?

Just look at those Carpaccio reds.

Right then my mind

leaps to Cezanne:

his dark-blue vest in Self-Portrait (1879–1880);

the Seven Bathers (ca. 1900) wallowing in blue;

his blue beyond in Château Noir (1904).

Consider now the three, or is it four figures

in Alberto Valdés’s Untitled (ca. 1965).

They are wayward energy, moving right

to left (the right one more sensuous than the rest)

about to dive

into the deep-blue waiting — call it the unknown.

I’d like to be there when they meet that blue abyss

head on.

Will they keep their shape, I wonder,

or break up and rearrange themselves

into a brighter, more memorable pose

... into a bigger elemental thing?

I’m really asking this:

When they run into the landscape of blue,

will these figures lose their logic of luster?

Will they lose their lucid argument of color,

their accumulated wealth of geometry?

Will they still engage the entire me,

hold me,

keep me mesmerized?